-Chasing the Wind- By J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S. Super Critical Reactor Axe Man, Fission Park Press wildeman@psn.net Synopsis Ranma and Akane are caught in a science experiment in Nerima that affects their ki. They experience terrible nightmares and lose their fighting focus. Neither can get any sleep without being in close proximity with the other. They call upon the scientists to help them through Ranma's friend from the Second Korean War, Hiro Ohata. Hiro works for Professor Balthazar McFogg, the leader of the scientists, as a kind of 'Man Friday'. Hiro sends them to England where they become embroiled in a worldwide search for electromagnetic 'events' like the one that affected them in Nerima. In chasing these events they hope to find a cure, but what they do find is that there is more going on than they ever imagined. Ranma meets a mysterious woman named Anazali, who is following them. She claims to be their friend, and hints that the end of their search will not only cure their ki problems, but may also end Ranma's Jusenkyo curse. They receive a vision during the event in Scotland that takes them to Granada, Spain. From there they experience the next event, and a very disturbing vision hinting not only at a world wide disaster, but of the end of their blossoming relationship as well. Ukyo, Kuno and Nabiki are kidnapped by agents working for Ivan Tarchenko, an assistant of a second research group that is studying these events. They are taken to a dacha outside of Odessa, where Ukyo is tortured. Kuno breaks them free and they flee across the southern Ukraine. Tarchenko sends a group of men to pursue them They are rescued from their pursuer, a vicious man named Fyodor, by a stranger, who takes them to a ship belonging to his brother. His brother, named Aerandir, is no less unusual, and he sails them to an island in the Aegean sea to stay with his uncle. Aerandir reveals to them that he is an 8000 year old descendant of an ancient people whose land was destroyed by forces similar to the event the scientists are looking for. He explains to them the history of his people and that if steps are not taken, a second disaster will befall the Earth. Ranma and Akane in the company of Professor McFogg's research group come to Monaco for the Prince's Charity Ball. Aerandir leaves his uncle, taking Nabiki and Kuno with him, and sails to Monaco. Doctor Casimir appears as well, hoping to talk to McFogg and the Wayfinders, Ranma and Akane. They are all brought together at the Charity Ball, including Fyodor, who has his own agenda. Ranma proposes to Akane that night, but before they can share their joyous announcement with anyone, Fyodor and his agents attack. Hiro and Kuno try to stop Fyodor, but succeed only in killing one of his men and rescuing Akane. Ranma is taken away into the night. Part Eight: At What Price Ranma? Chapter One Ivan Tarchenko looked through the soundproof glass window to the examination table where Ranma Saotome lay. He was unconscious and strapped down with thick leather thongs. Several men in white lab coats hovered over him, monitoring his vital functions. A large gas-plasma display over the table projected a series of Electroencephalo- gram (EEG) waveforms in both real-time and a scaled time-index format simultaneously. A little over a hundred electrode leads were glued to various points on his head and base of his neck, trailing to the EEG processor. Fyodor entered the side room where Tarchenko stood. "I see that 'Bronze Horseman' wasn't quite a success," he observed to the huge Ukrainian. "There were complications," Fyodor admitted. "Quite correct Fyodor. Two agents dead, a third with a ruptured liver that isn't expected to survive the week, a fourth who will have to live on broth and gelatin for the next six weeks while his jaw heals enough to support upper and lower dental prosthesis. Yes I quite agree there were complications." He gestured to the window. His finger pointed directly to Ranma. "Not the least of which is that I only see Yevgeny lying in there." Fyodor swallowed. "Where is his beloved Parasha?" Tarchenko asked sternly. "We were unable to escape with her. We were unaware that they enjoyed the support and protection of the Prince." "It was your job to know such things!" "Authorization was given at the very last minute!" Fyodor thundered. "Had you ordered me to act in Spain where we had set up detailed surveillance and the use of indigenous support -to say nothing of the lack of security around them, your precious 'Bronze Horseman' scheme would have worked! Instead you order me into a desperate unrehearsed extraction against formidable opposition!" "It is of little matter now," Tarchenko sighed, his demeanor distant and cool. "A second attempt would be too risky from a political standpoint. The Prince of Monaco may be restraining himself for the moment, but I do not think he will a second time." Fyodor seethed a little more. "Calm yourself Fyodor." "I find it difficult under the circumstances." "Did you find your remuneration to your liking?" "It is the only reason I am still here, Ivan Mikhailyvich." "Good. I may still have some work for you then." Fyodor raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Fyodor. Work more suited to your talents. Far less delicate work than I've asked of you in the recent past." "Who do you want me to kill?" "Patience Fyodor. Not yet. I shall contact you. In the meantime enjoy your money." Fyodor grunted once and stared down at Tarchenko with hard dark eyes. Then he turned and left the room. A middle-aged man in a lab coat carrying a clipboard entered not long after. "Ah, Doctor Pulatski. What news?" Pulatski consulted his clipboard. "Subject is a Japanese male, aged approximately 18 to 21 years. Subject is well nourished and well developed, indicative of regular intensive physical conditioning. The subject is in a barbiturate induced state of unconsciousness, time approximately nine hours. He is normalocephalic, and stable, with no acute traumas. Preliminary blood work indicates that he was exposed to enough Nembutal to drop a bull elephant, and I'm told it was necessary to affect extraction without further casualties to the team. Other than that the subject is clear of steroids, narcotics, alcohol, and nicotine." "In layman's terms?" The doctor gestured to Ranma through the glass. "You've got a young healthy clean-living Japanese man in there who is as strong as an ox and requires dangerous levels of intramuscular barbiturates to put him down." "I understand the dangers of the drugs, but what can you tell me from a more, shall we say, _esoteric_ viewpoint?" The doctor understood immediately what Tarchenko referred to. That was the reason he was here. "His EEG's normal for a man in drug induced narcosis. If you want anymore answers you'll have to let him dry out. I can't administer the multiphasic personality inventory or any kind of intelligence examinations with him doped up. I recommend the immediate suspension of his Diprivan injections." "That may be dangerous doctor, for reasons you have already pointed out." "You can still restrain him physically, but I need him coherent for my tests." Tarchenko nodded. "I see... Very well doctor, do what you must. But see to it that he is well restrained." The doctor agreed with a murmur. "May I may an alternative suggestion?" Tarchenko was willing to hear what the doctor had to say. "Go on." "The subject is closely attached to a woman, a fiancée or some sort of lover. As he has been unconscious since his extraction, he is unaware that we do not have her in our possession." Tarchenko smiled evilly. "I see where you are going with this. Yes, I'm sure if we convinced him that his cooperation was necessary for the well being of his fiancée, he would be most compliant." "I shall see that he is made aware of his circumstances when he regains consciousness." "How long will that take?" "A few hours at the most. His body is proving to be quite resistant to the drugs." * * * It was the third day since Ranma had been taken, and still there was no word on his whereabouts. McFogg's group had taken up residence in the Palace, where Akane could be protected from a second kidnapping attempt. In addition to the Prince's men, Nabiki and Hiro alternated their watch over her, but she remained withdrawn and silent. The nightmares had also returned without Ranma's proximity, and she was physically and emotionally a wreck. Thus far they had been following Doctor Casimir's advice, and had made no official recognition that the events of that terrible night had even happened. At the Prince's insistence, the police had dropped their investigation into the kidnapping, and into a possible manslaughter charge against Hiro Ohata for the death of Fyodor's agent. It was fairly obvious that you couldn't acknowledge one event without the other, and if there was no kidnapping, then there could be no manslaughter related to that kidnapping. The luckless agent was being cremated that very day. No autopsy had been performed, and no one had come asking for the remains. It was if the man never existed. That suited Hiro well enough. If he had his way, there would have been a few more John Does on their way to anonymous graves via the state funeral home. He paced moodily outside Akane's room deep in thought. "" he muttered. "" Heironymous Durango replied from a heavy upholstered chair opposite him. "" "" Hiro said bitterly. "" He sunk against the wall and slid down, clenching his fists tight. "I was supposed to protect them!" He hissed to himself. Durango looked across the hall to Hiro, who now sat on the floor and stewed. "" Hiro looked up at Durango. He said nothing, but the fire in his eyes spoke volumes. Aerandir walked down the hall towards them. Anazali and Nabiki were with him. Hiro wasn't sure what to make of the tall man with the pale hair and the sea-colored eyes. Nabiki had told him a little about Aerandir, but Hiro still had his misgivings. Anazali only ranked slightly higher on his list of people he could trust. One of the Prince's men stopped them, but when Aerandir identified himself he was allowed to pass. He stepped up to the door and waited. Hiro looked up at him. Aerandir's face was calm as he addressed Hiro. "Mister Ohata, may I speak with Akane?" "Something tells me I wouldn't be able to stop you," Hiro replied. Aerandir offered him a nod of agreement. "Be that as it may, I do wish to have your approval." Hiro stood. "Sure. Follow me." He knocked at the door and entered. Akane was standing at the window, looking out to the sea. Merchant ships plied the Mediterranean beyond the window. Tall masted sailing yachts darted between the bulky freighters and tankers. She was still in a nightgown. The bed next to her was unmade. When she turned around to face them Hiro felt his heart sink to behold her. She was weary beyond the words it would take to describe her. Weary and heartsick and emotionally spent. She didn't have a tear left in her, but still her eyes ached to shed more. "Hello Akane," Aerandir greeted pleasantly. "I'm told you're having trouble sleeping?" Akane managed a short, bitter laugh. "I can help you perhaps," he said soothingly. "If you would permit me, of course." "I can't sleep," she replied in a hoarse voice. "The nightmares... Without Ranma close by, the nightmares return. It's too much for me." "Aerandir can help you sleep, dear." It was Anazali who said this to her. "He can keep the nightmares from you." "Please let him help you sis," Nabiki added. Akane did want to sleep. Desperately. But the terror of those nightmares she had experienced were far worse than any she had endured in Nerima. Now that Ranma had pledged to share his very life with her, the thought of losing him forever was beyond endurance. Her nightmares reflected that loss with a dull edged pain that had sawed pitilessly through her soul in the last three days. "I can't," she sobbed. Hiro was ready to kick them all out and force them to leave her alone. At least then it would lessen the pain that their presence was inflicting upon her. Aerandir nodded sadly, then pulled his flute from his tunic. Nabiki's songbirds suddenly flew through the door and alighted upon her shoulder. Nabiki looked to them, and they sang brightly for her. In spite of herself, Akane smiled. Aerandir offered a hand to Akane, and begged that she sit upon the bed. "Very well then, I won't force you to sleep. Allow me instead to sing for you, that I may ease your worries." Akane found that she couldn't resist him. She sat back on the bed and waited for him to begin. Aerandir looked to the little songbirds who perched upon Nabiki's shoulder, and they trilled in reply. He put the flute to his lips, and blew a soft haunting note. The birds had their key, and began to sing. Aerandir joined them, and they fell into harmony. "What skies upon the east do glow That sound the harken to sun's warm grace To make the new world stir and grow And brings light to shine upon man's face Farewell to ice and bitter cold Abjure the snow and banish the waste Bring forth the rays that shine like gold Arise ye men, Spring's sweet dew to taste." As Aerandir sang, Akane began to sink down upon the bed. Her eyes became heavy and she started to drift away. The song was an ancient one, from an epic that detailed the rise of the Maiar. Hiro watched dumbfounded at Aerandir as he began another song: a lullaby to the accompaniment of the songbirds, and of Anazali who joined him, though her voice was in the tongue of the Maiar. "Sing we now sweetly and dreams let us weave her, Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her! The lady does sleepeth, now light be her heart! Love is her armor, we are her shield, Of all that we wish her, our hopes are revealed: Never from her light, nor love shall she part! Sing we now sweetly and dreams let us weave her, Wind her in slumber and there let us leave her!" Akane was now fast asleep. Aerandir placed a hand softly upon her brow and whispered something in her ear. She murmured a reply and sank back into the bed with a slight smile pursed upon her lips. The songbirds fell silent upon Nabiki's shoulder. The mariner sank back upon a chair and rubbed at his temple. He looked suddenly very tired and at once showed perhaps a sign of his vast age. Anazali gave him the fondest smile then and retired from the room. "You should see to her Mister Ohata," Aerandir said to him. Hiro shook his head as if awakening from a dream. He saw that Akane was slumbering peacefully, the first time he had seen her do so in three days. With the greatest care he lifted the sheets from the bed and set her beneath them. Nabiki was nearly bursting with relief. She leaned over and kissed Aerandir's brow. "Thank you Aerandir," she said to him. "As always; I am your servant, Nabiki." He rubbed at his temple again. "She will sleep very deeply, free from the imbalances to her essence which have brought her such torment. I have lent her a bit of my own to carry her through this day, and I have given her a very special dream as well. When she awakens tomorrow morning she will be restored to health." Hiro looked to Aerandir. His opinion of the man had just grown by an order of magnitude. Then he returned his attention to Akane, and watched over her. It was in some small way a redress for having failed them once. "Look after her well, Mister Ohata," Aerandir admonished him as he rose from the chair. "I shall retire to Kelebros. Look for me there if any should need me." Nabiki stopped him gently with a hand at his arm. When he turned to see what she wanted, she cocked her head to the songbirds that were now silent on her shoulder. "I thought you didn't like them, so how did you get them to cooperate like that with the songs?" "I have reached an understanding with them," he replied. "In return for their silence to my uncle, I continue to allow them to be near you. They're rather fond of you actually, so I think we have nothing to worry about." This was still all so weird for her, but when he told her that the songbirds liked her, she became very pleased with the idea. It reinforced her notion that they were hers, sort of. Sensing this, the birds suddenly twittered affectionately in her ear. "Do they have names?" She found herself asking him. Aerandir nodded. "Their personal names to each other do not translate very well I'm afraid. My uncle calls them Innael, Birathiel, and Gliredhel." The three birds each chirped at the mention of their name "They are named for my uncle's three sisters who perished with the drowning of Maianar. He would sometimes speak to me about them and their beautiful singing voices, but I'm afraid these three birds are all that I will ever know of them... My uncle granted them a remarkable span of years." Nabiki let him go after that. She didn't have anything she could say in reply. Innael took wing then and flew over to the headboard of the bed where Akane slept. Birathiel and Gliredhel chirped once and then joined their sister. Together on the headboard they began to sing very softly to Akane, and Nabiki beamed at them. Hiro watched all of this still a little confused. In any event he was happy to see Akane resting peacefully and the sight of Nabiki and her wondrous songbirds made him feel as if they had a powerful ally in the mariner named Aerandir. For the first time since Ranma's abduction, he felt hope. "Are you going to stay here awhile?" He asked Nabiki. Nabiki nodded and sat down to listen to the birds and to watch over her baby sister. "I was going to see about lunch. Would you like anything?" He continued. "If you would please. That would be nice." She had found herself liking Hiro even though it could be argued that he and his scientist employers had gotten them in this mess in the first place. "I'll see what I can do." "Thank you, Hiro." Hiro nodded and got up on his feet. He glanced once at Akane and left the room. Tatewaki Kuno appeared some time later. Nabiki gestured for him to be silent, and pointed to Akane's sleeping form. Kuno began to beam with happiness. "Hello Kuno-baby," she said to him quietly. Kuno was relieved that she hadn't called him 'Tate-chan' again. To hear that name from her lips confused him so. That it was presumption beyond forgiveness was certain, but why he had been unable to reproach her for such familiarity was the source of his confusion. He settled for a short nod of acknowledgment. "I see the lovely Akane is at last within the sheltering arms of Morpheus," he observed. "Aerandir sang her a lullaby. She went right out." Kuno nodded sagely. After that, their store of small talk was exhausted. They stood or sat in silence. The only sounds in the room were the soft singing of Nabiki's birds, the deep even breaths Akane took, and the ticking of a clock on the mantle of the fireplace. It was almost laughable, except that the two of them were too busy thinking about others things to notice how quiet the room had become. Nabiki was still trying to figure out what had been going through her head when she engaged Kuno in that kiss. **It was a stupid thing to do,** she told herself. **You're lucky he didn't attach himself to you on the spot.** She wanted to chalk it up to the romance of the moment. Attaching that rationalization to her thoughts wasn't coming very easy though. She thought back to that night, and their kiss. She had never been kissed like that before. Ever. It felt so good to be loved like that, even if just for a few moments. Even by Tatewaki Kuno. Her eyes drifted over to Kuno, who stood solemnly watching over Akane. There wasn't any of the usual adoration in his eyes when he looked at Akane, meaning that he was in his Protector mode again. It was the mantle he had assumed over Ukyo and herself when they had escaped from the Russians. **Had all of that just been part of the little dramas he played out in his head?** She suddenly wondered. She thought of how caring and strong he had been for the three of them. How open he had been with her as they walked for many kilometers across the southern Ukraine. It was so unlike him that it had to be genuine. She laughed quietly to herself about how ridiculous that sounded. **One way to find out...** She had to know. Even if she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She gave herself a mental kick in the rear and pressed on. Timid was an adjective that did not apply to Nabiki Tendo, and she wasn't going to have that sentiment proved wrong. She cleared her throat for attention. "Hey Kuno-baby," she said to him. Tatewaki Kuno was jolted out of his reflection and cast a questioning glance in her direction. "Yes Nabiki?" He asked. **Yes Nabiki-? Not 'Yes Nabiki Tendo?'** All of a sudden she felt very nervous. Maybe Kuno _was_ a little hung up on her. She mustered her cool again and rose to her feet. "I wanted to talk to you about the other night," she began. It was true enough: they hadn't said a word about it to each other since then. She had downplayed it in her own mind, and Kuno was trying his best to deny that it had ever happened. "Yes Nabiki?" He seemed quite oblivious to her intentions. She walked over to him. He watched her approach with a casual eye but said nothing. When she was standing before him and looking up into his eyes he began to cross his arms over his chest. She stopped him with a hand on his arm and brought it down to his side, never taking her eyes off his. Her gall was astounding, even if Kuno expected as much from her. He began to say something, but Nabiki cut him off. "I want to know if what happened between us was just a heat of the moment thing, or if there was more to it." "Whatever are you talking about, Nabiki Tendo?" Kuno replied, just a hint of defensiveness in his voice. **How can he be so stubbornly ignorant?** Nabiki railed inwardly. **Just how big _is_ that fantasy world of his?** "I'm talking about _this,_" she said sternly. She stood up on her toes and kissed him warmly, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself close to him. She was about to break the kiss when it seemed he wasn't going to respond, but then his arms went around her and he deepened their embrace. _Then_ she broke the kiss. She bobbed back down on her heels and looked at him for a minute. He looked a little surprised, and did she dare think _hurt_ by her sudden suspension of affection? She turned her back to him and returned to her chair. "Thanks Kuno-baby, that's all I wanted to know." Tatewaki Kuno stood paralyzed in the middle of the room. When at last he could move he spared a single guilty look to Akane, then a confused one for Nabiki. Nabiki watched him with sharp eyes, taking in his distress. **It serves him right for being such an insensitive clod about the whole affair.** "If you're looking for poetic words of undying love to Akane, you had best save your breath Kuno-baby," she told him after he turned longing eyes to her sleeping sister. He didn't reply, he just watched Akane and sighed. "Ranma proposed to her that night," Nabiki went on. "She said 'yes'." Kuno sighed again. He had heard vicious rumors to this effect, but the tone of Nabiki's voice told him that the rumors were true. It was one thing to be trapped in an arranged marriage and still pine for one's true love. It was another to commit to that marriage out of one's own free will. As disgusting and terrible as being the wife of the contemptible Ranma Saotome seemed to him, he realized that Akane Tendo was forever lost to him. He was an honorable man. As much as he disliked Saotome (and even more so for finally stealing Akane away from him), he would abide by their engagement. Unless he could prove that Saotome had used some sort of coercion, their engagement was valid, and he would do what he could for Akane that she would be happy. Nabiki could see the sudden sad turn in Kuno's expression. It had gone beyond the noble melancholy he affected when things didn't go his way, it was grievous injury. She felt very sorry for him then. It bothered her to see him that way. Suddenly it seemed as if a light bulb lit up above his head. Granted, it was only a twenty watt bulb, but something had instantly jerked him out of his sad reflection and put an ever growing smile on his face. His eyes took on that mad glow that occurred when his ego ballooned out of control. Nabiki tensed in her chair, waiting for him to spill forth whatever epiphany he had. "If Akane Tendo be the fiancée of the accursed Saotome of her own will, then he has no more hold upon the Pig-Tailed Girl! At last this cup has passed from me! My way is clear! Oh Love reveals her true face at last!" He struck a dramatic pose and raised his sword on high. Tears streamed down his face. " 'Let not my love be call'd idolatry, Nor my beloved as an idol show, Since all alike are my songs and praises be To one, of one, still such, and ever so. Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind, Still constant in a wondrous excellence; Therefore my verse to consistency confined, One thing expressing, leaves out difference. 'Fair, kind, and true,' is all my argument, 'Fair, kind, and true,' varying to other words; And in this change is my invention spent, Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords. 'Fair, kind, and true,' have often lived alone, Which three till now never kept seat in one.'" The three songbirds stopped their quiet lullaby for Akane and turned their attention to Kuno. Even for birds, the look they gave him was one of alarm for his madness. Part of Nabiki wanted to scream at him. The other part, the one still in control, instead offered him a fond smile. "I'm glad you worked this out Kuno-baby," she told him. "Oh would that this adventure was of its conclusion reached!" He cried in rare form. "That I may return to bask in the sweet glow of the Pig-Tailed Girl's love!" With that he started for the door, bowing low once for Akane, who continued to sleep oblivious to Kuno's passionate outburst, before leaving. Nabiki shook her head sadly. **Oh Tate-chan, you are so hopeless...** Hiro appeared with a knock at the door. He had a wheeled tray with lunch at his side. He pushed the tray into the room quietly for fear of awakening Akane. "Don't worry about the noise, Hiro," Nabiki said to him. "Kuno was just in here bellowing, and she didn't move a muscle." "I thought I heard a familiar voice from down the hall. Shakespeare?" Nabiki gave him a knowing smile. "One of the stanzas from the Sonnets I believe." "That wasn't hard to guess," Hiro said flatly. He gestured to the tray. "Any preferences?" Nabiki found that she didn't have much of an appetite anymore, but gamely reached for a bowl of consommé and a piece of bread from the basket to keep up appearances. Chapter Two Ranma glared at the man who had introduced himself as Ivan. The Russian for his part sat calmly across a table from him while a few men in lab coats finished last minute touches on the array of sensory gear emplaced around the martial artist. Doctor Pulatski and an unkempt gentleman in a dirty sweater and stained trousers watched from the corner of the room. A man acting as a translator took his place by Tarchenko's side. Ranma had a splitting headache, no doubt the side effects of whatever they had dosed him with in Monaco. Ever since his awakening he had been questioned, prodded, probed, scanned, and in general turned into their guinea pig. That was three days ago. He recognized some of the tests they had performed on him as being similar to ones McFogg's researchers had used on himself and Akane when they first came to London. McFogg's men had been a bit more civil about it than the Russians. He looked around him. He was in the examination room, a short walk from his windowless holding cell. He had no idea where in the world he was, but had the sinking feeling it wasn't anywhere near Monaco. "" Tarchenko asked. The translator repeated the question in Japanese. "Go fuck yourself," Ranma replied curtly. "" Ranma took the translator's words with a snarl, trying to leap up out of his chair. For a moment in his rage he had forgotten that he was bound in a straight-jacket and chained down to the floor. They had learned about his prodigious strength soon after he had regained consciousness. An agent was learning to live with one arm broken backwards at the elbow for his carelessness. Tarchenko made a gesture to the straight-jacket. "" "Let me see that Akane's all right and I will be!" "" Tarchenko replied. "" Tarchenko gestured to Ranma's three hulking playmates for the last three days. They were the ones who were for a lack of a better term his handlers. They were ones who moved him from his cell to the examination room and back again, who lashed him down and beat him whenever they felt he wasn't cooperating. Which was often. Ranma's body in fact was a wealth of welts, bruises, and contusions. Ranma wasn't all that sure they had Akane anymore. Before he blacked out he had heard Hiro and Kuno's voices approaching. It was possible that they could have rescued her, and that the Russian was just bluffing. On the other hand there was no way he was going to take any chances with Akane's life. "" Tarchenko asked. Instruments flicked on with hums and whirs. A tape recorder was switched on. Ranma could see other men enter the room in the shadows behind Tarchenko. When the 'interview' was over, Ranma's handlers dragged his dazed body out of the examination room and to his holding cell. The beatings hadn't been very bad, it was just that he hadn't been getting any sleep because of the nightmares. The questions Ivan had asked were absolutely nonsensical. They had nothing to do with McFogg's group, or the events, or how Ranma could sense them. Nevertheless the assembled interrogators took them quite seriously, and forced him to answer with the first thing that came to mind. The cell door swung open and he was thrown inside. He wished they would take the straight-jacket off so he could move his arms. The leg irons they gave him were digging into the flesh of his ankles. What was left of his tuxedo was mostly tatters. The door slammed shut and he was in darkness again. He felt his way to the foam mattress in the corner and dragged himself onto it. He had no desire to sleep, even though he was exhausted. The nightmares would come for him if he slept. He sobbed just once before catching himself. His tears weren't for himself, they were for Akane. Even if the Russians didn't have her, she would be prey to the nightmares the same as he. The thought that she was also suffering, no matter where, was a cold spike through his heart. "Well Doctor?" Tarchenko asked. Pulatski consulted his notes. "He is only of average intelligence. Personality tests indicate a strong moral core coupled with an abnormally independent motivational center. He's tough, opinionated, inflexible, and confrontational. In addition he has a strong value sense concerning life and the well being of others -provided they don't conflict with his personal value system. We had a good example of this during his extraction: he was capable of killing a man barehanded to protect his fiancée, and seriously injured several others. "Analysis of neural pathways is indicative of advanced motor and reflex control. That's in keeping with his martial artist profession, but we've found some other interesting indications as well." "Go on." "While his neural architecture is not compliant with accepted standards of psionic aptitude, his fourth brain structures are highly developed. There is no corresponding cerebellum enlargement or pons activity under PET scan, however. Kirlian analysis supports the theory that while he is capable of focusing large amounts of psionic potential, he has none of the accepted psionic talents." "Then he's a latent psychic?" Tarchenko asked. "No," the unkempt man interjected. "Not at all. He displays no aptitude for the so called sensitive talents. No telepathy, no empathic transference, no precognition, no psychometry. He has a slight Kirlian awareness, but his index isn't remarkably higher than an average person. I can sense no parapsionic awareness within him." "What are you getting at, gentlemen?" Pulatski fielded this one. "Given separately, his physical aptitude and his fourth brain development are meaningless. However, when combined we believe he may be able to gather, focus, and project energy from himself and his surroundings. That would make him an advanced physical archetype." Tarchenko had heard that term before. He'd never seen one in action, but the stories were fascinating. Men who could perform ridiculous feats of strength and agility, some who could even project psionic energy blasts! Now he felt better about keeping his young Japanese prisoner tightly bound. "You think he is one?" "Current evidence supports this conclusion," Pulatski replied. Tarchenko nodded slowly. "In regards to his sensitivity to the events. What is his connection?" The two men conferred for a moment. Pulatski spoke up. "We don't have any quantitative evidence to support any theories, but..." "Tell me what you think." "We don't think that he is, in and of himself, sensitive to these events. There is an outside influence at work here. We believe that it may be in part responsible for the traumatic dream states that plague him in REM sleep." Tarchenko felt as if they were holding back from him. He would have none of that. "There's more to it of course. Do go on." "It's possible that an outside presence is directing him. Although we are at a loss to localize such a presence if it exists." "I see... So his usefulness has reached its end?" The men understood what Tarchenko was implying. Pulatski again spoke up. "We would like to observe him for another two or three days if possible. There is so much we can learn from him regarding other paranormal fields, that it would be a waste to get rid of him so soon." "You must understand my position as well," Tarchenko cautioned. "Our presence with this young man is making our landlords nervous." He gestured to the ceiling, where above them was the bustling activity of the Russian Embassy to France. "I give you forty-eight hours." "We understand," Pulatski replied. He and the unkempt man known as Toschev offered good-days and left the examination room. * * * Doctor Casimir entered the Salon in the early evening with a pile of papers in his hands and a broad smile upon his face. Professor McFogg, Prince Rainier, Clay and Ferguson, Heironymous Durango and D-Day, Hiro, and Kuno were already present. They were smoking, drinking tea, and conferring among themselves. The mood in the room was subdued, even angry. "" Casimir cried. This garnered immediate attention. "" McFogg asked hopefully. "" Casimir told them. "" Prince Rainier asked in wonderment. None of his discreet inquiries with the French had been successful. Casimir took a seat in a leather bound chair and reached for the silver teapot. Only after pouring himself a cup of Earl Grey did he speak. The room was silent in expectation. "" Casimir began. "" "<-The leading parapsychologist in the world,>" Clay was quick to interject. It took one to know one. "" Casimir supplied mournfully. He had never fully trusted Tarchenko, but this betrayal had been especially difficult to put behind him. "" Hiro asked. "" "" Durango snorted. "" Casimir said calmly. "" "" Hiro declared. "" "" Casimir replied. Everyone gave a collective series of curses and groans. "" Durango said bitterly. "" "" Ferguson noted. Aerandir entered the room with Anazali. The men all stood for the tall and graceful Maiar woman. Anazali chose to stand at the far end of the salon, away from the others. Aerandir took a chair next to the Prince. "We would like it known that we pledge our support in rescuing Ranma Saotome," Aerandir declared. Anazali nodded from across the room. "" Prince Rainier replied fondly. "" Hiro said to them. "" "" Durango announced. "" the Professor replied. "" he replied. He lit up a Don Diego Churchill and began to puff away. * * * It was well past midnight when Nabiki walked into the Salon. There was a haze of cigar and pipe smoke hanging in the air, and the remains of sandwiches and other no effort foods were scattered on tables. Papers, maps, memo pads and other sundries were likewise scattered about. A servant entered with a large silver coffee pot on a tray. He set it next to the men as they gathered around a large table that had been moved from one of the dining rooms to the salon. A few of them grunted acknowledgment and poured fresh cups for themselves. She thumbed through the papers. Most of them were faxes from all over Europe, but mostly from Paris. One of them looked suspiciously like a blueprint or technical drawing. For the public utilities of all things. Nabiki watched Heironymous Durango as he chewed on the end of a pencil while he and D-Day pored over a navigational chart of the local Paris airspace. They wrote down various communications frequencies, informational squawks, and beacons on a set of notepads. D-Day checked them with some other notes they'd taken earlier. Then he began rambling on about fuel ladders. One of the Prince's men was on a phone line getting them weather information. She moved on to the others. Hiro was going over an inventory of the small arms Durango and D-Day had with them aboard Bettie's Dare. Kuno meditated in silence because he had little to offer the group other than his sword. McFogg was in the middle of a phone call on another line while one of the Prince's men monitored the line against wiretaps from equipment housed in a briefcase. Ferguson took down instructions and notes from McFogg as he relayed information from where Nabiki presumed to be London. He was puffing away rather furiously on his pipe as he spoke. Clay was talking with Aerandir and Anazali in one corner of the room. He seemed to be detailing some sort of plan to the two Maiar, who would occasionally shake their heads and correct him on some point or other. For the most part they seemed to be agreeing, which made Nabiki feel a little better. Casimir was on a third line, also being monitored against wiretap, and speaking in animated Russian with whoever was on the other side of the line. He jotted down notes and passed them over to McFogg and Durango. Occasionally the Catalina pilot would have a question regarding the scientist's sloppy handwriting, and particularly because some of the notes taken were in Russian. All of this James Bond stuff was a little overwhelming, even for a woman who prided herself on being well connected in the right circles. For a moment she wished Akane was awake just so she would have someone she could talk to. She watched them work for awhile. At least the activity indicated that they had some sort of plan to rescue Ranma from Tarchenko. "" The Professor asked her. She had barely gotten to know the Professor in the last two days, but it was easy to see why Ranma and Akane trusted him. She wondered if she was looking like the fifth wheel that she felt she was. When she joined him at the table he handed her a notepad with various scribblings and asked her if she could make a few phone calls. It was busy-work, but the alternative was sitting alone and worrying. She took the notebook and proceeded to the last available phone line that the Prince's people had hastily installed in the Salon. She looked over the notes and got to work. After awhile her old talents of making connections and getting people to do what she wanted started paying off. Contacts she had never known before began complying to her wishes as she applied a little manipulation here, a little promise of grease there. Just like old times. She looked over to the Professor, who was smiling in admiration of her efforts, and wondered just what her sister had told the Professor about her these last few weeks. * * * Akane awoke just before lunch the next day. She seemed to look much better than she had the previous day. As Aerandir had promised, she had suffered no nightmares, but in fact had a rather pleasant dream featuring Ranma. Reality asserted itself once again with consciousness. Hiro was quick to allay her worries by telling her they had found where Ranma was being kept and that they were going after him that night. Of course Akane was adamant about going with them. "Out of the question!" Hiro had protested. "It's too dangerous." She had argued with him for awhile, then finally relented. Nabiki wasn't too sure about her sister buckling so easy, but kept it to herself. Her part in this plan detailed that she leave with Ferguson and Anazali early that afternoon on a commercial air flight to set a few things up in Paris. Akane was Hiro's problem after that. * * * The PBY-5A Catalina floated alongside the slip as the Monaco sky began to darken with sunset. Hiro and Kuno loaded the last of the gear they were bringing with them. D-Day crawled along the top of the wing, checking that engine and control surface access panels were securely in place. Aerandir could be seen through the cockpit canopy talking to Durango as the pilot went through his preflight checklists. Clay poked his head out of the dorsal hatch and took a heavy duffel bag from Hiro. When they had finished stowing everything, Durango asked if they were ready. Hiro looked to Kuno, who looked to Clay, who looked to Aerandir. The mariner was wearing a black cloak and an equally dark expression. His sword lay over his lap in its scabbard. He nodded his head. His reason for joining them was clear. It was likely that his uncle Sarophan was ultimately behind the Russians, and that one of his own kind was surreptitiously watching over the Embassy. He would deal with that threat should it arise. He only hoped he could stop whoever had been detailed for such an assignment without killing him. "" Durango cried. "" D-Day scrambled over to the little cleat just outside the door when he was pushed aside by Akane Tendo. She was dressed in a dark wool pullover sweater and black sweatpants. Black running shoes completed her outfit. Despite her efforts, the last thing she looked like was a commando. "" D-Day protested. She ignored him. Akane climbed aboard Bettie's Dare. "Where do you think you're going?" Hiro asked. "I'm coming with you," she said matter-of-factly. "Absolutely not!" Hiro yelled at her. "You are not going with us! I don't want anything happening to you." "I'm a martial artist!" Akane yelled back in protest. "I'm prepared to get hurt!" Hiro turned crimson. He ripped open his shirt to reveal an ugly scar to the right of his breastbone. From his pocket he produced a jagged, halfway unraveled piece of dull grey metal flecked with copper and thrust it in her face. "When one of these comes crashing into you at fifteen hundred feet per second you'll wish all it did was 'hurt'!" He thundered. Kuno and D-Day were about to step in and calm him down when Hiro lowered his voice. Although Kuno wouldn't tolerate Hiro's outburst to Akane under other circumstances, he knew from first hand experience that the former infantryman and comrade in arms was correct. "This thing hit me the day the North Koreans kicked us off our hill. The same day your friend Gosunkugi got hit. It went in through my body armor, drilled right through the chicken-plate, and entered into my chest. From there it grazed my lung, missed my heart by about three millimeters, gouged a nice groove through the edge of my spine, and was about halfway out my backside when it hung up on one of my ribs." Akane looked with horror at the oblong scar on Hiro's chest. She tried to imagine what it was like for the jagged piece of metal in his hand to have gone through him like that. It never occurred to her that the reason it was so jagged and deformed was _because_ it had gone through him. Now she understood why he had been reluctant to take his tank top off at the beach. "The bullet missed everything important, but I still felt like I was being turned inside-out," he said in as grim and serious a voice as he could. "I was in so much pain they had to shoot me up with morphine just to get me to stop screaming." He held the spent round up to the light. "There are going to be hundreds of these little bastards flying through the air if and when things go wrong. I don't want you anywhere near them. The only way I ever want you to know about what it's like to get shot is to hear it from someone else." "I don't care!" Akane cried. "I'm going and you can't stop me!" She glared at him with a look that bordered on despair. Hiro was wounded to see that in her eyes, but his concern for her overrode any ideas of placating her. He lowered his head wearily. For a moment she thought he was going to give in. "Are you going to be doing him any favors if you get yourself killed?" He hissed angrily at her. He hated himself for being so mean to her, but goddammit why couldn't she understand? "I love him!" She protested. "Ranma would move Heaven and Earth for me if our positions were reversed. Tell me he wouldn't!" Hiro couldn't deny that. He'd seen it on a mountain in North Korea. "Now it's my turn to do this for him," she said sternly. "I am going with you." Hiro was about to take his life into his hands and try and remove her forcibly from the Catalina when Aerandir stopped him with a gentle tug of his arm. He turned around to glare at the mariner. His mouth opened in rebuke. He didn't care what kind of powers the mariner had, there was no way he would allow Akane to go. Aerandir cut him off. "Let her accompany us Mister Ohata. I sense that her presence will be very necessary in locating Ranma." He looked to Clay. "Wouldn't you agree, Mister Clay?" Clay squinted his eyes at Akane for a moment. "" the parapsychologist replied. "" Hiro groused. "Mister Clay and others who are sensitive to such things can see something very special with Akane. They can use it to locate Ranma." "Huh?" Hiro replied, wondering what Aerandir was driving at. "Mister Clay?" Aerandir gestured to the parapsychologist that he might explain. Clay cleared his throat. "" he said solemnly. Akane suddenly blushed furiously at the same time that enormous happiness welled within her. "" "" Clay explained. "" "" Hiro protested. He thought he remembered a little folklore on the subject, but nothing was coming to him. "" "" Hiro asked. He could see his attempts at getting Akane off the seaplane were failing and would argue anything at this point. "" Akane knew victory when she saw it. She took a seat next to Aerandir and Kuno and offered him a wicked smile of smug satisfaction. Hiro clenched his fists tight and stuffed his 'lucky bullet' in his pocket. "I don't fucking believe this," he cursed to himself. Durango called down to them. "" "You may proceed at your discretion Mister Durango," Aerandir replied. "<'Bout goddamn time. Come on D-Day, let's go.>" D-Day cast them off and secured the door. Then he proceeded to the cockpit. The supercharged radial piston engines of Bettie's Dare exploded to life moments later. As the engine noise increased, the seaplane began to taxi out of the La Condamine marina. Durango firewalled the engines once they got clear, and the Catalina lurched into the air minutes later. He brought the plane into a shallow turn and headed north by northwest, Paris bound. Hiro retreated to the cockpit because he couldn't stand the thought of Akane coming with them. It was bad enough that he was scared about losing his own life, but to lose Akane's was beyond imagining. "" Durango announced for them. They were well aware of their time table, but a little reinforcement never hurt. Bettie's Dare disappeared into a darkening cloud bank as the sun sunk over the western horizon. Chapter Three Ranma awoke with great gasp for breath. Cold sweat rolled down his face as he shook away the last vestiges of the nightmare he had suffered. It was a very familiar one, and he started to wonder if there was any meaning behind it. Once again he dreamed that he was fighting people atop the Eiffel Tower. Akane was there, and she was fighting them too. Then she was pushed over the side, and he jumped after her, and together they plummeted straight down. He woke up before they could hit the ground. He wiped the sweat away from his eyes. Someone had eventually prevailed upon his jailers to remove the straight-jacket during the short periods when he was allowed sleep. Double sets of manacles took the straight-jacket's place. At least he could move a little. Perhaps even break them if he tried hard enough. **If Kuno could do it,** he thought, remembering back to the short bit of catching up they'd shared with Nabiki before the Ball. **I gotta be able to do it.** He was almost certain by now that they didn't have Akane in their clutches. It was a little strange, but he felt as if he would _know_ if she was around. It didn't feel like it, and the way he was treated today suggested that it wouldn't matter shortly. **All the more reason to try and get out of here. They aren't going to just let me go when they're done with me. I gotta think of something.** He looked down at his manacles. They had a little play in them so as not to cut off the circulation, but there was no way he was going to wriggle them off his wrists. **Unless I suddenly got a lot smaller...** He looked over to the stainless steel toilet basin in the corner by the dim crack of light from the bottom of the door. He didn't need a lot, just enough to transform. He crawled over to the toilet and splashed up water upon himself. It was tepid, but just cold enough to do the job. He felt himself shrink into the tattered fabric of his ruined tuxedo. His breasts swelled from his chest even as his wrists and ankles shrunk in their manacles. The things nearly fell off him as he became a girl. Ranma-chan slipped off her manacles and stepped out of her leg irons. It wasn't much, but this was the closest she'd been to freedom in three days. She knew that she couldn't get the door open as a girl, and doubted that she would have the strength or the focus to blast it open. All she needed to do was bide her time and wait for them to come for her. And wouldn't they be in for a surprise. * * * Nabiki and Ferguson stopped the truck along the Right Bank of the river Seine near Bercy. It was late evening and the many barges and boats that plied the river were now moored. She could see the glow of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, just barely in sight past the distant Notre Dame Cathedral upon the Ile de la Cite, across the water. Anazali stepped out from the passenger side and surveyed their surroundings. They were on the eastern end of Paris. The express lanes along the Right bank were to the west of them and a large industrial park was on the other side of the river. There wasn't much traffic here, vehicular or otherwise. "I believe this is the place," she said to them. "" Nabiki told him. Ferguson nodded and engaged the parking brake. He left the motor running as he stepped out of the cab. "" he told her. Nabiki gestured to the cellular phone she held in her hand. "" Ferguson grunted something inaudible and headed to the back of the truck. Pulling back the canvas flap that covered the bed, he lowered the tailgate, set two long four by sixes down as a ramp, and began to carefully roll the ten 55 gallon drums down onto the pavement. Anazali kept up the watch as Ferguson rolled each drum to the side of the street and the masonry and wrought iron fence that protected against a drop to the river twenty feet below. He stood the drums up on end and reached into his back pocket for the bung wrench. He loosened the bung caps on the drums, both the vent and the siphon caps. For curiosity's sake he took the vent cap off of one and took a whiff. A strong petroleum smell hit him square on. Ferguson was standing beside 550 gallons of JP-8 high performance military jet fuel. "" Heironymous Durango announced. He thumbed one of the function keys on the GPS display, calling up a preprogrammed position map. D-Day had the wheel, and made the course corrections as Durango called them out. The light of Paris was a distant glow on the horizon. Hiro nodded in reply. Akane hunched next to him in the cockpit. He still couldn't believe they were taking her with them. It was bad enough that Clay had no experience in these matters, but the rest of them save Akane were all warriors of one sort or the other. Even Aerandir from the look of his broadsword. Akane may have been a martial artist, but she had never pulled the trigger on someone, so to speak. "" Durango asked them then. "" Hiro replied. "" "" D-Day added sarcastically. "" He looked at them for a second to make sure they were getting all of this. "" Hiro and Akane traded looks. "" Hiro answered. "" he told them. "" Hiro wasn't sure where the pilot was going with this. Akane listened patiently for the punch line. "" Durango said with an evil grin. D-Day suddenly whooped with laughter at the memory of it. "" he finished. He turned back to the GPS display. "" Hiro and Akane nodded and went aft. "" D-Day said after the two headed back to the main cabin. "" D-Day jerked a thumb aft. "" "" Durango asked. "" "" "" "" Durango adjusted the display for the small pulse Doppler weather radar they had retrofitted in the nose of the seaplane. There was clear skies ahead, no nasty winds or other developments that would preclude what they were going to attempt. "" "" Durango replied. "" "" "" "" Durango took over the wheel while D-Day got out of his seat to energize the EW rig. Various signals posted themselves on the split screen display. D-Day began to isolate and identify signals for their use in the immediate future. "" He reached down to the radio transponder panel, and dialed in the number that was taped next to it. Bettie's Dare suddenly became British Airways Express Flight 4255 on the worksheets of Air Traffic Controllers at Charles de Gaulle and Orly international airports. British Airways Express Flight 4255 never existed; it was in fact a flight plan filed by one of the people Nabiki had talked to on the telephone the night before. The man was a friend of Durango's who ran a dubious air-freight business out of Calais. "" Durango yelled aft to get their attention. "" The radio crackled for attention. A voice in French accented English spoke to them. "" Durango keyed his transmitter. "" "" Durango complied and set his transponder to 6600. Then he picked up the cellular phone taped to the side of the console. He dialed a number from a yellow post-it note on the control yoke. Professor Balthazar McFogg sat in the study of his mansion in London with Doctor Casimir, Doctor Vickers, MD; Katy Price, and Ames. Several students from Cambridge University were there as well, one of whom was online in a chat room via the Internet. The others in the chat room made small talk, but they were 'virtually' assembled for one purpose that evening. A cellular phone began to ring. The Professor and Katy both made a dive for it, with the Professor snatching it up and answering. The loud thrum of supercharged radial piston engines greeted him. "" he asked. "" Heironymous Durango told him. "" The line went dead. The Professor looked at his pocket watch and waited. Hiro checked his gear securely fastened to his body. Then he went through his weapons. Sig Sauer P-220 and six magazines, that was his backup weapon. The one he carried in hand was a Thompson SMG with 30 round stick magazine, and an army surplus magazine pouch with six more. He had decided on the Tommygun over an MP-5PK because it was .45 caliber, the same as his pistol. It didn't have any suppresser on it, but Hiro figured that if it came down to actually using it, it wouldn't matter. An Ithaca Stakeout 12 gauge pump shotgun was slung over shoulder. Kuno carried his sword. That was all he needed, and would accept no firearms. Hiro knew from experience that the swordsman was deadly with his sword, even in the middle of a firefight, and so didn't press too hard for him to accept at least a pistol. Akane had no understanding of firearms nor any desire to carry one. Hiro wasn't going to try and get her to carry one either. So armed she could be as dangerous to them as the Russians. She was to stick close to Aerandir's side in any event. Clay took a matching Sig, but he had only done a little target shooting on a range. Aerandir had his sword, plus whatever other firepower he might suddenly muster in their defense. If it came down to a firefight, Hiro was going to be the only one capable of shooting back. The point of the plan was that it wasn't supposed to get that far. Hiro knew better than that, but had held his tongue. He resolved to be ready for anything. The only martial art he knew was Ching Ching Pow. His weapons were the extensions of his art. At least he told himself this often whenever he saw a true martial artist at work. Aerandir gathered them close to him. This was the part Hiro was dreading. He was an accidental commando thanks to Operation Chancellor, but a paratrooper was the last thing he had ever considered being in his short career as a soldier. The dreadful part was that paratroopers at least had parachutes. They didn't have that luxury. "Hold tight to each other until we touch the ground," he admonished them. Akane looked to Hiro, who nodded his head and put his arm around her waist. She wanted to go, he couldn't stop her, so be it. He just wished everything would work out okay. She smiled gamely for him and locked her arm around his waist. Aerandir took hold of her from the other side. Kuno and Clay joined up and then Kuno took hold of Hiro. "Are you scared?" Akane asked him. She looked very frightened, but was still determined to go on. He wondered what he was looking like for her to ask. "Scared to death," he whispered in her ear. "Me too," she admitted. He gave her a squeeze which she returned gratefully. They were ready. It was all in Durango's court now. Nabiki nearly jumped out of her shoes when the cellular phone rang. She turned it on. "" She asked. "" It was Durango's voice over the roar of propeller wash. "" she replied. The line clicked dead. She turned to Ferguson and gave him a 'thumbs up'. He returned her gesture. Anazali came up next to her and began taking deep breaths. Ferguson removed all of the bung caps from the drums and began kicking them on their sides. JP-8 began gushing forth to spill down into the river. The current was slow on this part of the Seine, and a rapidly expanding slick of high performance jet fuel began to form. "Are you going to be able to do this?" Nabiki asked her. "Don't worry about me Nabiki," Anazali returned. "Now you and Ferguson get out of here so we can continue with the plan." "" Ferguson cried as the last of the drums emptied. He began to pick up a drum. "Leave them," Anazali cried. "I shall take care of them. Go now!" Ferguson shrugged and jumped into the truck with Nabiki. He released the brake and jumped on the gas. The truck sped away as Anazali gathered in the energies around her. She felt something odd in the wind. Something unexpected. "" Durango said with a tight edge to his voice. "" "" "" Durango smiled. "" He turned back to the main cabin. "" "We are ready, Mister Durango." Aerandir called back to him. Durango looked to D-Day, who rejoined him at the controls. D-Day gave him a 'thumbs-up.' Durango nodded, laughed once, and then dialed his transponder to 7700. "" He took a deep breath and clicked on his radio transmitter to 121.5 MHz. At first Orly Approach did not notice that B177's transponder squawk had changed to 7700. He was busy directing the always crowded airspace around two major airports. When Durango's voice came over the radio, the controllers suddenly looked to their screens in the closest they would allow themselves to panic. B177 was headed straight for metropolitan Paris. "" The ATC supervisor took immediate charge of the situation. He consulted the displays while another controller pulled Flight 4255's flight plan and manifest. He flashed the number 26 with his fingers, indicating that Flight 4255's total list of flight crew and passengers was 26 people. "" "" It was the best Durango could do to keep a straight face. "" Durango paused for a moment as if he was actually trying to turn. Instead he began his shallow dive towards the heart of Paris a few miles distant. His landmark was the Arc de Triomphe, which someone had thoughtfully illuminated for him. "" He cried in his best panicked voice. "" "" A total hydraulic failure was as unlikely as they came, but the men at Orly were too busy thinking about 26 people on a crippled aircraft and who knew how many below if they should crash in the city. "" The Supervisor ordered. A man scrambled to a telephone. "" "" Durango told them. Then added with a cry, "" "" the ATC pleaded with them. "" The radio began to crackle badly as if it was shorted out. "" Durango clicked off the radio and began sniggering, trying to hold it in and keep his concentration. The men in Orly ATC went silent. Eyes went to displays where the blip marked 7700 dropped lower and lower, and headed straight for downtown Paris. There was nothing they could do now but wait for the inevitable. Bettie's Dare howled over the rooftops of Nanterre on it's way into Paris proper. D-Day had swiveled the GPS display to face him, and now called out course corrections to Durango in his measured bombardier drawl. The pilot dove the Catalina down to 500 feet. It was just like the good old days, only instead of dropping a few thousand pounds of high explosives they would be dropping about six hundred pounds of people. "" D-Day spared him a momentary frown. "" "" They were almost to the Arc de Triomphe. Durango made his bank when D-Day called it out, and the Catalina slipped in midair to a parallel track along the Champs Elysee headed southeast. Their target was coming up: an older four story building better known as the Russian Embassy to France. "" He yelled. Aerandir opened the door, and the wind howled and threatened to suck them out. The lights of Paris glowed below them, though much closer than Hiro and Akane and Clay would have preferred. Kuno of course was fearless in this regard, and it was Aerandir who would support them. He had no doubts in his mind. If he did it wouldn't work. "Remember to hold tight to each other, the slipstream could be treacherous," he admonished them. Durango made the final adjustments to their heading. D-Day called out the GPS cues as they howled in under 200 feet. With his other hand D-Day throttled back on Bettie's engines. Durango began to pull up into a slight climb and lowered the flaps. The Catalina began to flare out, and airspeed bled off quickly. The final act was to switch off the transponder and altimeter squawk. "" Durango yelled. "" Bettie's Dare screamed in within two city blocks of the Embassy at two hundred feet. The preprogrammed GPS prompt began to flash on the display. D-Day's voice rang out clear and loud over the roar of the engines. "" Aerandir pushed them out the door with as much force as he dared. "" D-Day called as he watched out of the canopy. He still couldn't believe they were doing this, but what the hell, right? Durango firewalled the engines, which roared in reply. The Catalina began to level off as it shot straight over the roof of the Russian Embassy. Durango slip turned back on course directly above the always busy Champs Elysee at an altitude of one hundred and twenty feet. "" D-Day yelled. "" Durango shot back. "" D-Day observed, gesturing to the park before them, and to the Louvre not so far ahead. Like any good bombardier, he knew better than to try and usurp Durango's control by grabbing his own control column. "" Durango snarled back as he wrenched at the control column. "" Ivan Tarchenko heard the sound of Bettie's Dare roaring overhead and then felt the entire building shake with its passing. **What on Earth was that?** He and the others who enjoyed a late evening drink in the lounge looked up to the ceiling. Someone declared that it sounded like a low flying aircraft. Members of the diplomatic staff ran to the windows. "" One of them cried. That drew the rest to the windows. Nabiki and Ferguson were heading to the pickup point when they saw the Catalina roar overhead, and dive for the river Seine. Ferguson stopped the truck as he and Nabiki looked out the windows. The seaplane was dropping like a dead duck. "" Ferguson remarked. "" Nabiki said, thinking of Hiro and the others. She didn't know that Akane had accompanied them yet. She looked down at the cellular phone in her lap. Soon it would ring, at least she hoped it would. Anazali drew in the energy around her, felt it build up within her body. The seaplane was close, she could hear it diving towards the river where she stood. This was not something she made a habit of. She wasn't as strong as most of the others. Not like Aerandir, who was stronger than he believed. The air seemed to crackle around her. Bettie's Dare was seconds away. "" Durango cried. He jerked at the control column as the Catalina dropped like a rock in a stall. D-Day grabbed at his column in support of Durango. They risked all the engine power they had in their final maneuver. "" He yelled to no one in particular. Bettie's Dare bounced along the water for an instant before clawing it's way aloft. The two pilots had calculated their fuel consumption very carefully to know how heavy they'd be when they hit. It was close enough. Anazali released the energy that had built up within her in a furious lighting bolt. The bolt rippled across the river with a great thunderclap, and the jet fuel exploded into the air with a blinding fireball. Windows shattered close by, buildings shook, and the small railway bridge over the Seine she had targeted disintegrated in a roiling cloud of dust and shattered masonry. Flames leaped across the river, rising fifty feet into the air. She was nearly overwhelmed by the fierce heat, and found herself stepping back in response. Debris from the destroyed bridge began raining down around her. Traffic slowed on the nearby highway as the fireball climbed into the sky. As an afterthought she obliterated the ten empty fuel drums. Fragments of scorched metal began to scatter around the street in concert with the pieces of shattered stone. It was a scene straight out of a disaster movie, and would keep emergency services busy for sometime before anyone figured out that it was a hoax. Feeling very tired, she ran away from the river to her next objective. The nagging feeling that something was in the wind tugged at her awareness. She couldn't put her finger on it yet. The sing-song wail of French emergency and police sirens picked up in the distance. Ranma-chan felt the building shake above her. She had no idea what it was, but it was followed moments later by the sounds of boot steps coming down the short hallway outside. She tensed in expectation, ready to explode into whoever was dumb enough to open the door. Akane had never wanted to scream so badly in her life. Her voice just wouldn't come. She was falling at a hundred miles per hour straight at a building from a height of a two hundred feet. In fact there were buildings all around them they could hit. She clutched onto Hiro with all her strength as he was the first out of the door. She was dimly aware that Kuno was now behind and above her. Aerandir focused himself and began to pull at the winds around them. There was ample energy to be found in the currents of the air, and he was well accustomed to controlling them. The wind responded to his wishes, twisting and pushing up at them. Their falls began to slow. He then tugged at the four below him, catching them up in his mind. He willed them to slow down even as the winds pushed against their fall. He needed energy to do this, but there was plenty to be found in a bustling city of ten million people. With one last tug of his mind he stopped them three feet short of the ground. He released them then, and they dropped to their feet upon the grounds within the twenty foot compound walls of the Embassy. The underground garage was only thirty meters away, and that was their best access into the building. Professor McFogg's watch read the appointed time. Durango had not called, and therefore he had to assume that everything was going as planned. He nodded his head to the Cambridge student at the computer terminal. The student got everyone's attention in the chat room. Upon giving the proper code word, those who were involved acknowledged and left the chat room. The student then disconnected. McFogg looked to Doctor Casimir, who had his fingers crossed, and to Doctor Vickers, who had brought two interns, a nurse and enough surgical gear and supplies to provide immediate trauma care as necessary when they arrived in England. McFogg prayed that it was an unnecessary precaution. Now all they could do was wait. Emergency lines began ringing off the hook in Paris. Some of the calls were legitimate calls from local Parisians who lived close to the explosion Anazali had caused. The rest were a sudden influx of bogus calls being bounced in from across Europe while looking like local calls. They all said the same thing though: that a plane had crashed in the river near Bercy. Fire Companies scrambled to their trucks. Hospitals went on alert. Police units called in off duty officers. The city responded as best it could. No one knew exactly what was going on yet, but plenty of misinformation was being fed to them. That was why no one was terribly surprised when half of Paris went black with the sudden disruption of electrical power. Anazali couldn't keep this kind of destruction up all night. The substation crackled merrily beneath the street after the Maiar woman had summarily blown it up. Pink and gold flames launched into the air from vents in the streets and manway covers. Lights went out all around her as power was lost. Aerandir had just enough warning to push the others clear before a lightning bolt exploded at his feet. Hiro had his Tommygun to bear but no one to aim it at. The Embassy went dark a moment later. Kuno caught Akane before she could fall, and pulled her to safety beneath the garage overhang. Clay threw himself against the wall and held out his pistol. He had nothing to aim at, but felt much better with it in hand. Aerandir looked up to see a man floating thirty feet above him. A glitter of silver caught his eye, a large broadsword. He didn't have to see who it was that nearly fried them with a lightning bolt. He felt his familiar presence. It was his brother Palandir. "Sil Amarn! I will not allow you to betray us so!" Palandir cried to him in the tongue of the Maia. "It is you who betray the world!" Aerandir retorted. He detached a part of his consciousness long enough to shout in the minds of Hiro, Akane, Kuno, and Clay. ^Go! Find Ranma and get him to safety! I shall follow when I can!^ Hiro was the first to jump to action. He rushed the door to the parking garage, jamming the butt of his Tommygun into the jaw of the one man on guard. The Russian was stunned by the force of the thunderclap, Hiro's strike put him out for the rest of the night. "Come on!" He shouted to the others. Palandir watched them run and raised another lighting bolt. It was hard to find the energy with all of the power out in the neighborhood. He was forced to reach farther from the center of the city. It took more time than he had. Aerandir lofted up at him with his sword ready. Palandir let go of his tenuous hold on the energy and raised his sword in defense. Steel rang against steel as the two brothers clashed in midair. "Very clever, brother!" Palandir noted. The other four had escaped within the garage, and there was no way he could reach them without turning away from Aerandir. He did have other means of taking care of them. As Aerandir had done moments earlier, he now detached a part of his consciousness to sound the alarm within the minds of Ivan Tarchenko and his cronies. Ivan Tarchenko looked up at the lights as they went out. He saw that lights had gone out all over that part of town. It didn't matter, the Embassy had it's own backup diesel-driven generators on the premises. They would start up automatically. He suddenly wondered if the plane crash they had witnessed as a huge ball of fire rising into the sky had been responsible. It made sense. He looked to Fyodor and the other thugs in his employ. They seemed unconcerned with the goings-on. It was late. He was about to take his leave of the room and go to bed when a sudden thought burst into his mind. Concern flashed across his awareness. Something was very wrong and he must see that his Japanese prisoner was secure. It must have been the paranoia born of being a spy, but he trusted gut instinct. Right now his gut was telling him to make certain Ranma Saotome was secure. He yelled to Fyodor and his men and ordered them to follow him to the examination cells in the basement. Ranma-chan tried to contain her glee as the sounds of a bolt being thrown back echoed in the silence of the basement. The door was opened. Just then the lights went out. She saw her one favorite jailer look dumbstruck at the sight of a young woman wearing a tattered tuxedo with the sleeves and pant legs rolled up to her elbows and knees. It was the last thing he saw. As the building's lights went out, so did his. Emergency lights flicked on. Ranma-chan cracked her knuckles with righteous fury as the man bounced off the far wall and collapsed with a heavy thud to the stone floor. Doctor Pulatski stood across the hall in shock as he saw a strange red-haired girl step out of the cell and bash the daylights out of Gennady. Ranma-chan turned and saw Pulatski back against the far wall of the hallway, stammering in broken Russian. She glowered at him and started stomping towards him. It was the kind of walk that was only intimidating if you were a full grown and muscular man. The hate filled look in Ranma-chan's eyes more than made up for the fact that she weighed 100 pounds soaking wet and holding a brick. "You!" She yelled at him. He didn't understand Japanese, but he had an idea what she was saying as she stabbed a finger at him. She backed him against the wall and then lashed out a hand to collar him and lift him up on his toes. Nevermind the fact that he was several heads taller than the mysterious and extremely violent girl that grabbed him. Nevermind the fact that he was even now voiding his bladder onto the stone floor. Ranma-chan seemed not to notice. Ranma-chan switched to English. Hopefully the Russian had a smattering of that. Otherwise she was just going to beat him to a pulp and find someone else who could show her to the door. "" She yelled in his face. "" "" Pulatski cried. He understood the part about leaving, but hot water? "" Ranma-chan yelled, putting the squeeze on Pulatski's throat. "" **Hot water?** Ranma-chan gave him a tighter squeeze. Pulatski gestured over to the examination room. Through the open door she could see a coffee pot and some instant tea bags in a glass bowl. Steam wafted from the pot. She picked him up by the throat and dragged him with her to the examination room. With one hand clamped firmly around his throat, she reached out to the coffee pot and picked it up. This was going to hurt, but beggars couldn't be choosy. She dumped the contents of the pot on her head. It was coffee all right. And it was hot. She screamed in pain, and her voice suddenly took on a deeper timbre. Pulatski nearly fainted as he watched the girl grow taller, muscles burst forth on her arms, a bit of five o'clock shadow formed on the face, the jawline became tight and firm. Suddenly there was a fully grown Japanese man with a black pigtail holding him by the throat. It was Ranma Saotome! He couldn't believe his eyes! "" Ranma growled menacingly at him. "" Pulatski stammered in Russian. Ranma threw the man into a stack of computer equipment. Pulatski crashed onto the floor whining in pain. Ranma stood over him and kicked him sharply with his bare foot. "" He yelled at the fallen scientist. "" He drew his hand across his throat in a slicing motion. Pulatski got the hint. "" Hiro cried. They had made their way into the lower levels of the Embassy with ease during the confusion. Casimir had drawn them a fairly accurate map of the Embassy from his time spent there in the 60s. Fortunately they hadn't done any major remodeling since then, as Hiro found what he remembered to match up well with what he found. So far so good... They had Akane in the middle with Clay. Kuno followed as rearguard with his katana drawn and ready. Aerandir hadn't caught up with them, and Hiro could only presume that the mariner was busy outside. Clay squinted hard at Akane. The excitement was interfering with his concentration, but after a few moments he could see the red thread of psionic force that lead from her heart point straight down and to the left of them. Ranma was down there. "" Clay responded. "" That was good enough for Hiro Ohata. He introduced a burly GRU major who had blundered into them from a side door to the butt of his Tommygun. The two hit it off right from the start, but it was a short friendship. As the GRU major hit the floor, things went to hell from there. A security man cried out and drew a machine pistol. Hiro barked a warning for Akane and Kuno and brought the Tommygun to bear. Akane had just enough time to cry out as the first of the Russian's burst chewed into the fine oak paneled walls over her head before Hiro's answering burst took the man apart at the midsection. They ran past the fallen guard. Akane looked down with horror at the dead Russian's body. There wasn't time for anything more as the sounds of gunfire drew more attention. Clay pulled on her with them. Suddenly she began to have a sense of appreciation for Hiro trying to keep her from joining them. Hiro led the way. The idea that they had been discovered rang in his mind. It was to be expected, but they were counting on Aerandir's support. Now it was up to him to get them out of this alive. It was like being back in the middle of the war again. He had never felt more alive in his life than when someone was actively trying to kill him. Another burst of gunfire ripped apart an endtable in the hallway. Hiro barked a short burst of suppression fire at the security man, who ducked behind a door frame. The door to the stairwell was just past the hallway. "" Hiro yelled. He unlimbered his shotgun and cycled a shell. Clay started to go, but the security man popped out from behind the door while Hiro was busy and nearly blew the scientist apart in a storm of 9mm hollowpoints. Akane saw the Russian just in time and jerked him back behind the corner. Hiro fumbled up his Tommygun with one hand and cut loose with the rest of the magazine. The Russian ducked back behind the ruined door frame to reload. Kuno sounded like he was hacking someone up down the hall. Hiro was ready now with the shotgun. "Go!" he yelled at them. "I'm covering!" Clay swallowed hard and jumped into the open. Akane followed. The Russian appeared, and he had a friend. Hiro clamped down on the shotgun trigger and held on. Hiro's shotgun blast annihilated the door behind the two Russians as they jumped back inside at the last second. They popped back out, guns blazing, before they thought Hiro could cycle another shell through the breech. They were wrong. 9mm bullets whined past his head and shot down the hall. One very nearly struck Akane, but it smashed into the paneled walls and showered her with splinters. She cried out about the time Hiro fired a second time with the shotgun. Whereas Hiro's first shell had been double-ought buckshot, the second shell was a 3 inch Nitromag .50 caliber discarding sabot slug. It blasted clean through both mens' chests, through the wall behind them, and out a first floor window via the closed steel shutters. Hiro's wrist and the webbing between his thumb and forefinger were on fire. That was just not the kind of shotgun shell you fired with a roomsweeper like the Stakeout. Kuno ran up to him as he winced in pain for his wrist. "No time to dawdle, man!" Kuno rebuked. "This way! Onward!" Kuno charged through the door with his bloodstained sword after Clay and Akane. Hiro decided to sling the shotgun again and use the Tommygun for awhile. At least as long as the ammo held up. He had burned one magazine already and they still hadn't found Ranma. The way things looked the whole building would realize they were under attack before they could get out. He jacked a fresh clip into the Tommygun and turned to follow Kuno. He tried to ignore the two ruined corpses not ten meters away. The sight of the cherries jubilee stain all over the hallway was a little much even for him. Aerandir leaped clear of Palandir's fiery sword. His brother was ever the finer swordsman than he, and he suspected he was holding back from him. He managed to hold his own against the renewed assault, but it was taking all he had. "Why do you insist in this Sil Amarn?" Palandir asked him. "We are your family!" "Ask yourself why you insist upon destroying the world, Sil Amass," Aerandir retorted. "For that is what you seek!" Palandir didn't reply to that. Instead he lashed savagely at his brother and said, "In truth I did not expect to see you here, brother. One would think the sea has too great a hold upon you." "When the cause is noble enough, not even the sea may hold me fast in its thrall." "And the life of one man is noble enough for you?" "Especially the life of one man!" Aerandir cried. His brilliantly flaming sword stroke nearly took Palandir's nose off. "We were sworn to protect these people since before you and I were born!" "Then why do you betray us!?" Palandir thundered. His brilliant sword strokes drove Aerandir down towards the ground. "Our uncle would save this world and it's people from themselves!" Aerandir called up a reserve of strength to fight him off to a standstill. Palandir retreated in midair to fly back thirty meters from him. The mariner rose up to the same height and waited. "A hundred of our finest magi couldn't hold the Heart of the World in the end. How do you imagine our dear uncle could hope to do so alone?" Palandir spit in reply. "Had any one of those hundred wise men lived for twelve thousand years? I think not! Sarophan has the power to tear this world in twain if that was his desire!" "Sarophan may get his wish!" They flew at each other again with renewed fury. They were no longer brothers in each other's eyes. They were the deadliest of enemies. Ivan Tarchenko heard the sound of gunfire from the lower levels and suddenly his worst fears were coming true. **How was this possible? This was the sovereign territory of the Russian Federation. An attack was unthinkable!** But he knew it to be true. He knew what they had come for, whoever they were. He wasn't going to let them have Ranma Saotome alive. Fyodor and the others drew appropriate small arms and followed Tarchenko to the basement holding area. Calls to the Paris Police had been futile, every single man they had was converging on the site of the plane crash. The local television stations, acting on anonymous reports, were calling it the worst air disaster in French history. If necessary he would have Saotome killed on the spot. It wasn't as if he had any more use for him in any event. Fyodor grunted to his men, and they began to file down the hallways. Staff types and pencil pushers cowered behind doors, unsure of what was going on. They watched timidly at them as they made their way to the stairwell. Others began the process of destroying classified documents. He could hear the shredders working overtime. **I'm afraid I've worn out my welcome here,** Tarchenko thought bitterly. **But if in the end I have the Heart of the World, it will not matter.** Ranma had Pulatski by the throat as the scientist directed him towards the stairwell. If his luck held out, he could be free in ten minutes. Maybe less. He didn't know what he would do once he escaped, but he'd burn that bridge when he crossed it. Chapter Four Kuno had the point as they scrambled down the dimly lit stairwell. His sword gleamed by the emergency lighting as he stomped down the stairs. Akane stayed close to Clay. She was starting to understand why Hiro had been so adamant about her staying in Monaco. The last thing she wanted to think about was getting herself shot. She just wanted to find Ranma. She needed to know that he was all right. She vowed that she would do anything to see him safe and sound. They had a future together, and no one was going to take that from them. Hiro snaked ahead of them again. He had powder burns on his face from where a guard had nearly taken his head off at point blank range with an AK-74. Akane didn't have to guess where the bright red splatter across his brow had came from. "" He cried. He was running out of ammo for the Tommygun. Clay knew they were close. The red thread of force was visible to him without any effort now. "" he cried, pointing down to the bottom of the stairwell. "" Hiro slammed up against the stairwell wall to make room for them to pass. "Kuno! Cover them below while I cover from above!" He unlimbered the shotgun again and remembered to extend the folding wire stock this time. It wasn't much, but at least he could brace it against his shoulder. "You need not give orders to me Ohata!" Kuno bellowed. "Tatewaki Kuno knows what must be done!" He leaped over the banister and down two flights of steps to the bottom. Ranma Saotome appeared through the door with Pulatski in his grasp. Kuno very nearly decapitated Ranma in his fury and haste. His blade stopped just a centimeter shy of Ranma's throat. Both Ranma and Pulatski breathed a sigh of relief. Pulatski because Kuno's blade was going to go through him on the way out of Ranma's neck. "Saotome!" Kuno announced. "I am a man of my word, and have come to rescue you from these villains!" "Hey uh, thanks Kuno," Ranma managed. As much as he hoped someone would come, he honestly hadn't expected it. "RANMA!" Akane cried out from a flight of stairs above. Ranma looked up to see Akane, dressed in black mufti, looking down at him. He didn't know if he wanted to cry out in delight or in rage at seeing her here in the middle of this mess. Kuno took his burden from him, throwing Pulatski against the wall and raising his sword to cut him down. "Thus ends thy sorry life!" Kuno cried wrathfully. "Hold on a second Kuno!" Ranma told him. "We could always use a hostage to get out of here." Even he had noticed the sounds of gunfire raging above just minutes earlier, and figured the element of surprise was quite thoroughly destroyed. Kuno complied with a scowl and pushed the man before them at the end of his sword. This sorry wretch deserved only a swift death by his hands. "Step lively knave, lest ye feel the steel of the Blue Thunder!" A poke of the katana between the shoulder blades got Pulatski moving, even though he didn't understand a word of Kuno's Japanese. Akane wasted no time in jumping down over the banister to reach Ranma. She ran up to him and threw her arms around him, eyes suddenly dewing with tears. A tiny part of him knew better than to waste precious time holding her tight against him, but that was the part that didn't love her with all of his heart. He caught her up in what would have been a crushing embrace if they weren't used to each other's shows of affection. "I thought I'd lost you forever," she whispered to him. "You know me better than that," he replied quietly. "Well you didn't have to scare me like that. Twice is enough for one lifetime with you! Now three times?" She retorted once more in a whisper. She kissed him on the cheek next to his ear and let him go. "You okay Saotome?" Hiro called from above them. "What took you so long?" Ranma shot back. "Hell, I was halfway out of here on my own!" "Finding out what city you were in took a little time," Hiro said as the party climbed back up the steps. Pulatski was in front acting as a convenient bullet stopper for them should the need arise. Clay followed behind Kuno and Pulatski. Now that Ranma was found, he served no more purpose, and was eager to get the hell out of here while the getting was good. "Oh yeah?" Ranma asked, holding Akane close to his side. "What city is that?" "Paris!" Akane said next to him. "This ain't how I was hoping to visit Paris," he observed. He reluctantly took the Tommygun Hiro gave him because he had been pretty wasted over the last three days and had spent damn near all his strength on Pulatski while in a rage. Hiro had the Stakeout in hand, sweeping it along the winding stairwell banister above them as they climbed. "That's okay Saotome, I think we're in the process of leveling most of it in order to make a diversion for your rescue," Hiro remarked casually. "That was nice of you." "Anytime." Ranma looked at the Tommygun. "Feeling kinda light. What do I have left?" Hiro handed him a stick magazine from his pouch. "Maybe half a clip in the gun, plus this one. Don't spend it all in one place." Ranma tucked the clip in his waist band. "I'll try not to." "It's a Thompson, so it's got a low rate of fire compared to the MP-5 you're used to. And the bullets are nice fat .45 hydrashoks, so don't try shooting through any walls with it. They might make it through, but not in any shape to do much good." "I'll remember that." They were just getting up to the right floor when a blast of gunfire from high above them hit Pulatski. The scientist staggered back against Kuno, his white lab coat suddenly soaked in red. The man tumbled over as Kuno threw him aside and began moaning on the stairwell. Hiro only saw the muzzle flash for a second and fired his Stakeout on reflex. Ranma jerked Akane behind him to shield her from any more gunfire. Clay began shooting sporadically over their heads until his Sig was empty. "" Ivan Tarchenko yelled down at them in English. He looked to the others in his group. Fyodor and his men readied hand grenades. Their fingers locked around safety rings in preparation to arm and toss them at Tarchenko's command. "" Ranma shot back. "" Tarchenko told them. "" "" Ranma yelled furiously. Tarchenko nodded to Fyodor and the others. They pulled the safeties on their grenades. The grenades' spoons flicked away and rang upon the concrete stairs. "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark!" Kuno hissed suddenly. He wasted no time in busting down the door to the floor that opened into the parking garage. He began waving his sword at them to spur them on. Hiro finished off the rest of the shotgun's internal magazine and began combat loading on the run. "Make haste!" Kuno bellowed to the four of them. "Lest the foe surround us!" "Go!" Hiro yelled at Ranma and Akane. "While their heads are down!" He kept up a blistering series of shotgun blasts. Ranma pulled at Akane, practically dragging her through the door. Clay was close behind them. Kuno was already charging down the hall with his sword, chasing the staff types before him and ranting madly. Hiro saw the dull egg shaped grenades falling towards them as they made their break for the exit to the stairwell. His finger tensed on the trigger of the shotgun once more as he leaped for the door. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt as much as he was expecting. "Fire in the hole!" He yelled. Ranma caught and lifted Akane off her feet while still on the run. He threw her a little roughly to the floor against the wall and then dove over her body. She cried out in protest, but in that scant second before the grenades went off she saw that he was too busy holding his ears and yawning. In that instant she figured he knew something she didn't, and copied him as best she could. Six grenades exploded in unison at the door. The shockwave helped to blast Hiro clear of the door. Glass windows set in doors shattered, paintings and photographs were shaken off the walls. A wall of heat and black smoke washed over them. A consuming silence fell over them, broken only by the patter of dust and small bits of the ceiling raining down. "You okay?" Ranma asked her. She was seeing stars from the noise of the explosions, but told him she was all right. He wasted no time in pulling her to her feet. Clay was already up and helped them along. Ranma cast a look back to Hiro, who pulled himself up and hobbled towards them with a limp. "Hiro!" Akane cried when she saw the bloodstains on his right leg. Hiro waved them off and barked at them to keep moving. "It ain't bad!" He protested. Actually it wasn't, but hurt like blue blazes anyway just to spite him. Aerandir knew he was outmatched against his brother's swordsmanship. Part of his awareness informed him that Ranma had been found alive and well, and for that he was glad. All he needed to do was hold off his brother long enough for the others to escape. He wasn't sure what Palandir would do if he saw Ranma escaping, but wasn't prepared to take any chances with the young man's life. It was possible that Palandir was merely around the Embassy awaiting orders from their uncle to kill Ranma. Perhaps Sarophan had assessed the man and his fiancée as the threat Anazali and her companions believed them to be. He didn't have too much time to dwell on such thoughts, as Palandir drove home another series of glittering fiery sword strokes upon him. He heard astonished voices in French and Russian below them as he fought off the attack. He and his brother were putting on quite an aerial show for them. "You waste my time brother," Palandir told him curtly. "I have other business here." "If it concerns the life of Ranma Saotome and his fiancée than I'm afraid you'll have to take it up with me, Sil Amass." "So be it!" Palandir barked. "I did not wish to kill you, but if I must than I shall!" Aerandir braced for the all out assault he knew Palandir had been holding back from him. "" Ferguson lamented. The truck was at the assigned pickup point four blocks from the embassy. Power was still out in this part of town, and the incessant wail of police and emergency sirens echoed in the distance. The Parisians hadn't figured out yet that the crash had been a hoax. Nabiki silently agreed. Her thoughts drifted to Akane and Ranma. Hiro. Even Tatewaki Kuno. She hoped they were all right. Anazali appeared silently before them out of thin air. Both Ferguson and Nabiki started in their seats within the truck. The woman's oddly complected skin seemed to glow even in the darkness. Nabiki found herself just a little jealous of her for a moment. The Maia woman looked very weary. She walked over to the cab and opened the door. Nabiki scooted over next to Ferguson to make room for her. Anazali stepped up into the cab and sank into the bench seat. "Are you okay?" Nabiki asked her. Anazali nodded. "I'm very worried," she told them. "I sense another presence here. On par with Aerandir, and that frightens me." "Huh? Who?" Nabiki asked. Ferguson was quite lost. "There are few among my kind who are as old or as powerful as Aerandir. I myself am but an eighth of his span of years... I fear it may be Sil Amass, known as Palandir, his brother." Nabiki remembered Aerandir mention his brother once to Ukyo. He had been the one to pull them from the Dneister River. He had saved them from Tarchenko's murder squad, and sent them to safety with Aerandir that they be taken to Sarophan. If Palandir was their enemy, then that meant that Sarophan was their enemy. And that meant that... "Oh my God!" Nabiki cried in horror. "Ukyo!" "What is it, Nabiki?" Anazali asked her. "Ukyo! She's with Aerandir's uncle!" Anazali was missing something here. So was Ferguson. Nabiki looked at both of them and grit her teeth in frustration. There was too much to explain to be doing it here. Anazali didn't give her the chance. She jumped out of the truck and started running towards the Embassy. "Waitaminute!" Nabiki yelled at her. "Where do you think you're going?" "Aerandir needs my help!" Anazali cried in reply. Then she faded from sight. "Damn!" Nabiki cursed. She turned to Ferguson and gave him a sour look. "" Ferguson gave her a dubious look in reply, thinking back to what he had said to begin this conversation. "" The two of them harrumphed and turned back to face over the hood of the truck. Nabiki felt very cold inside with the knowledge that Ukyo was in the clutches of their enemy. **I won't lose Akane, Ranma, and Ukyo too. I won't lose any of them!** Tarchenko scrambled down the smoke filled stairwell when Fyodor and his men had secured it. One of Fyodor's men had the dazed Doctor Pulatski in his arms. Aside from the bullet wound in the arm, the doctor was unhurt. Blind luck had him roll down the stairs far enough to avoid the shrapnel of the grenades. "" He demanded. Fyodor pointed down the hall. "" Fyodor nodded and circled his finger to muster his men. Finally he would be able to do what he did best. He was tired of treading lightly upon eggshells. It was time to crush a few. Kuno held off two guards at sword point. He had deftly disarmed them, his blade having cut clean through their rifles. He was just about to turn them into steak tartare when Ranma and the others came running towards him from down the hall. The parking garage beyond was now filled with armed soldiers. Unfortunately it was their only way out. "Leave 'em," Ranma told the swordsman. "We got other problems." Kuno seethed at being told what to do, but conceded that Saotome might have a point. He leaped at both of them, bringing his pommel down upon their heads and knocking them out cold. He spat upon them in contempt. "Know ye that the mercy of the Blue Thunder is vast beyond even your meager worth," he told them. "" Clay said in a hushed voice. The soldiers for their part were busy watching two men outside wheel and dive around each other in midair. Silvery flashes of light were punctuated by the ring of steel on steel. "That's Aerandir!" Akane cried. "Who's he fighting?" "Beats me," Ranma replied. He looked to Hiro, who was rubbing at his leg and looking for the piece of shrapnel that hurt him so. "Got any ideas?" "You're the great martial artist," Hiro replied between clenched teeth. He found it. "If I thought I had the juice left in me, I'd rush 'em." Ranma said bitterly. "But even if I did, it's too dangerous with Akane and Mister Clay to worry about." "Hah! You think I can't take a few?" Akane asked archly. Ranma clenched his fists and glared at her. She glared back at him. "For Christ's sake, this is no time to start arguing," Hiro spat. He pulled an inch long piece of bloody steel filament wire from his leg. Standard anti-personnel shrapnel. "Give me a minute, and I'll give us a little cover." He bit back a few choicer curses as he shifted his weight on his wounded leg. He reached into his satchel and produced a brace of four canisters. He handed one to Ranma, Kuno and Akane, keeping the last for himself. Akane looked at hers. It had this ring pin on the top of the can. "What?" "Smoke grenade," Ranma supplied for her. "If I had any I woulda brought a few frags, but we were kinda in a hurry to find you." "This'll work," Ranma said. He looked to Kuno, who readied his without a word. Then he looked to Akane. "Just pull the pin when we do and throw the grenade at them." "On three," Hiro said. He pulled his pin and the rest followed. "One...Two.. Three!" He lobbed his smoke grenade as Clay held the door open. Ranma and Kuno hurled theirs. Akane wound up and threw hers as hard as she could. Hiro's grenade popped loudly in flight, then began spewing forth voluminous clouds of thick blue smoke. At the sound the Russians turned, only to get more grenades going off around them. The last Russian in sight took Akane's grenade right in the forehead and was cold-cocked before it went off. "Well that wasn't quite what I had in mind, but whatever works!" Ranma said to her as they watched the Russian fall over unconscious. Hiro charged through the smoke blasting his shotgun blindly in the direction of the Russians. Kuno let out a blood-curdling war cry and leaped to follow. Ranma led Akane around the outskirts of the garage. There was no way he was going to take her through the middle of Hiro and Kuno's crazed charge. The garage became pure pandemonium. Choking blue smoke filled the space, billowing out of the open doors. Gunfire erupted in response to Hiro's shotgun blasts. Kuno kept yelling something like "The Hundred Blows!" and men screamed in terror and pain. Akane coughed against the smoke and her eyes watered badly. Ranma led them past the melee with Clay close behind. As they staggered out into the open he saw a Russian raise his rifle against them. Akane shrieked once. He remembered the Tommygun and emptied the clip into the man's legs. The Russian dropped like a stone and began howling. Hiro appeared through the smoke a second later. Kuno charged through behind him. They were free of the building, there was just the matter of the twenty foot high walls before them. They looked towards the gate, which someone had finally sealed off and posted with heavily armed security guards. They wouldn't be getting out of there that way. They were still trapped. "Aerandir was supposed to get us over the wall," Hiro said bitterly. Palandir had finally drawn blood. His brother had fought with all his might, but the superior skill was beginning to tell. Aerandir managed to disengage long enough to get a few meters between them. Blood dripped down onto the grass of the courtyard below from a slash across his side. That was when Palandir saw that Ranma and the others had escaped from the building. "Very clever!" He commended Aerandir. "You play a marvelous waiting game... All for naught I'm afraid." Palandir began to gather the energy he needed. The electricity was restored to the building, so there was no need to reach so far from himself to collect it. He held Aerandir back with one arm pointing the sword directly towards him, while the other arm lifted over his head. St. Elmo's fire began to crackle in his hand. Aerandir wasn't finished yet. He knew he couldn't charge his brother without catching either the sword or the energy blast that was being mustered. Instead he decided to affect a more localized defense. He reached out with his mind, looking for something useful. A gas main beneath the grounds ruptured at his prompt. It didn't take much from there to get it lit. A geyser of blue and orange flame rocketed skyward. The Russians on the grounds cried out in panic and threw themselves to the grass. The main blowtorched fifty feet into the black sky. The roar of the ruptured gas main was deafening, distracting Palandir's attention back towards Aerandir. Ranma and the others had a few more moments respite. The exploding gas main sent Ranma and the others to the grass as well. "You get the feeling we're the minor players in this firefight?" Hiro groused. He jerked a thumb into the air at the two dueling Maiar. "We got ourselves another distraction," Ranma said. He scrambled to his feet. "Come on, I got an idea!" They got up with him and followed him to the corner of the wall and away from all of the pyrotechnics. Kuno began to argue that a charge upon the gate would succeed, but Hiro started yelling back that it was crazy to charge across that much open ground. Clay kept watch against the Russians, but for the moment it was clear that they were still trying to deal with the exploding gas main to bother with the five intruders. Ranma ignored them and looked straight into Akane's eyes. "I need your help for this," he told her. "I can't do it alone." "Me?" "Yeah. I don't have the juice for a ki-blast on my own. I haven't slept in three days, really. The only thing keeping me up right now is the adrenaline. I need you to power me up." "What? I can't do any of that stuff!" Akane protested. It was a bitter point with her, as she had felt very little like a martial artist around people who could use such techniques. "You're wrong, Akane!" Ranma told her sternly. "This attack doesn't work unless you have the utmost confidence in yourself. You have to believe you can do it! I'll get the thing started, but I need you to help me give it some oomph!" "What are you talking about? How am I supposed to give any power to you?" Ranma clasped his hand in hers. By this time Hiro and Kuno had stopped arguing and spared them a look of wonderment. Then a stray bullet whizzing by got their attention, and they focused themselves on holding the Russians off. Clay had the Tommygun now, and began clipping short bursts at them to the accompaniment of Hiro's shotgun and Kuno's taunting oaths. Ranma paid no attention to any of it, instead looking once more into Akane's eyes. "It's our ki's, Akane. We've got each other's ki's. Sort of. Parts of them anyway. That's why we're skewed opposite of each other! You've got a piece of me inside you, I've got a piece of you inside me! When we're together, we're the same!" Akane knew it to be true then. She didn't know what she could do to help, but now as Ranma began to gather himself, she could feel that part of him within her begin to glow with power. That inner flame was infectious, spreading to the rest of her until she tingled at the fingertips with heat. "I know you can do this," he said to her. "I believe in you. You just gotta believe in yourself." He held out his right hand as he held her right in his left. She put her free hand next to his as he directed. He took a deep breath. He could feel what little power he had to spare rising within him. **It would be enough, dammit!** The fireball of ki energy began to coalesce in their hands. He was giving it all he had. Akane gasped as she saw it, and more importantly _felt_ it. There was power there: his power, her power, _their_ power. She felt it flow out of her in a torrent. The fireball grew and grew in their hands. It was all Ranma could do to keep it together, Akane was busy feeding it her strength. When he had all he could hope to contain and possibly a little bit more, he flung it forth. "MOKO TAKABISHA!!!" They cried in unison. For an instant, if you knew what you were looking for, you could see the image of a tiger swell around the two. The ki ball blossomed forth into a lance of power that slammed straight through the stone wall with runaway freight train force. The explosion blew them off their feet, and for one panicked moment Hiro thought a Russian had launched an RPG at them from the roof. When the smoke and dust cleared, there was a seven foot hole blasted through eighteen inches of stone. The edges of the hole were scorched black. A faint sparkle of light dimmed to nothingness in the wake of the blast. Clay lowered the Thompson and stared wide-eyed at the huge hole through the wall. "Let's go!" Ranma yelled. He sagged against Akane for a second, and she helped to steady him. "Are you okay?" "Just a little shaky," he replied. He started towards the hole. "Come on, I'll be fine." Hiro didn't need a written invitation. He fired the last of his three-inch Nitromags into the corner of the building where several guards took shelter before running for the hole. The slug blew apart a large stone, peppering the Russians with rock shrapnel and convincing them that they had best wait a few moments before doing anything. Aerandir felt the buildup and release of ki energy below. The explosion that blew apart the wall surprised him. He hadn't expected Saotome to be capable of such a feat in his current condition. Palandir was of a like mind. "It appears Nimatar's opinions of them are well founded," he said to himself. His hand crackled with power and he directed it at the fleeing party below. Aerandir realized that he didn't have much choice at this point, and flung himself towards his brother with a great cry. It wasn't Aerandir who connected with Palandir. It was Anazali's blast that caught the Maia across the chest in a storm of radiant blue light. Palandir staggered back in midair, stunned, but not hurt. Anazali's attack wasn't strong enough to hurt him. He snarled a curse and split his energies into a triple tined fork of crimson red might. One blast stopped Aerandir cold, making him wince against the blow but not seriously hurting him. Anazali was blasted to the ground with a cry of pain. The third blast landed squarely between Ranma and Akane, and the others. The pavement was thrown up around them in a ear-splitting peal of thunder. Angry red motes of light exploded around them, burning with an icy touch upon exposed skin. Ranma and Akane stumbled forward, still running, while Hiro and the others were thrown back. Hiro, Kuno, and Clay were closest to the blast, and were knocked silly by the concussion. They fell over face down and lay there with their ears ringing loudly. It was the only thing that saved them when Fyodor and his men came charging through the hole in pursuit of Ranma and Akane. Fyodor saw the smoking crater the three were laying around like points on a clock face, and decided that they were quite dead. He saw Ranma and Akane running away from their friends and that confirmed his beliefs. He motioned for his men to pursue them. There was too much cover for a clear shot at them down the tree lined boulevard. They ran off in hot pursuit. When Hiro got to his feet and the dust settled, he could see Ranma and Akane running away as fast as they could. He could also see Fyodor and his men chasing them. He yelled a warning but they were too far away to hear him. He pulled himself painfully to his knees, waiting for another blast to come raining down upon them, and praying that one wouldn't. Kuno got back to his feet, and turned in time to cut down one of the Russians with his sword as the man ran through the hole. The scream cut short was enough to get Hiro moving again. Bullets crashed around him as Kuno stepped away from the hole, and the rest of the Russians opened up with AK-74s. Clay threw himself against the wall and began edging away as fast as he could. All he had left was the Sig. He drew it in one swift motion and stood in the middle of the hail of bullets and fired twice. His shots took the closest one square in the chest, pitching him back. He kept firing, knowing that he was buying time for Ranma and Akane to escape. The seventh round was gone and the slide locked back before he realized what a stupid thing he was doing. A bullet grazed him across the temple and confirmed it. As he spun around seeing stars he wished he hadn't done it. When he hit the ground he saw that Ranma and Akane had put a considerable distance between themselves and the Embassy. At least he had kept more people from chasing after them for long enough to let the trail grow cold. **Hope it was worth it,** he thought before he blacked out. Kuno saw Hiro spin around to the ground and felt the splatter of fine droplets of hot blood upon his face. While Ohata had never been his friend, he too was a comrade in arms, and he deserved to be avenged. He would take that vengeance now. "Oh wretched villains!" He raged at them, as heedless of the bullets as Hiro had been. (Such courage must only be recognized in kind.) "Your lives are forfeit! The Blue Thunder comes for thee!" A growl arose from the depths of his throat. He raised his sword on high, and at once sparkling blue flames lit up along the steel. If he had known that he was doing it, he would have stopped and stared in awe right there. But this was Tatewaki Kuno, and when the red rage was upon him the words 'tunnel vision' failed to describe his lack of awareness. He charged right at ten men armed with AK-74s with fifty feet between them. The Russians stood their ground and dropped into firing stances. The rifles barked with foot long tongues of flame in the night. Brass shell casings spurted high into the air in shimmering golden streams. The sound of so many fully automatic reports was blurred into an angry roar of gunfire. They never touched him. The first one was lifted up into the air with the steely stroke and flung ten feet away. His uniform became wreathed in eery blue flames as he hit the ground. The second one took a slash across the chest and fell back with those same blue flames licking across his clothes. The third was twisting away in panic and so only lost an arm at the elbow. The rest had enough time to scramble away in panic. They did not face a man but a incoherently babbling demon with a fiery sword! Kuno bellowed at them to stand and die with some honor. He shook his flaming sword at them and berated them ceaselessly for their cowardice. He still hadn't noticed the spectral flames that danced upon the blade. Hiro had by this time come around. He had caught the tail end of Kuno's suicide charge and grit his teeth expecting the swordsman to get blown into hamburger. Instead the butcher shop belonged to Tatewaki Kuno. Hiro shook his head in disbelief. This was just like Korea. His thoughts drifted back to memories of Kuno standing upright in the middle of artillery barrages unscathed. Of him taunting machine gun nests as others worked their way in close with grenades. **And by way, where the hell did those blue flames come from on his sword?** Some terribly rational part of his mind squeaked in his head. "How the hell does he _do_ that?" Hiro said to himself. He brought his hand up to his brow and it came away slicked in blood. It didn't hurt, yet, and he had more pressing concerns. Like finding Ranma and Akane before the Russians did. The truck with Nabiki and Ferguson screeched to a halt next to Hiro as he stood up. Hiro spun around ready to put his fresh magazine through them. Nabiki raised her hands to her face, expecting to get shot. Hiro lowered the Sig and jumped inside next to Nabiki. She looked at the dirty, bloody mess he had become, and reached for something to staunch the free flowing wound at his temple. Hiro for his part was screaming for Clay and Kuno to get in the truck. Clay appeared from behind a tree and made his break for the bed. Kuno looked around him as if he was hearing a ghost, which considering that he thought Hiro was dead, was exactly what he was thinking. The sword was no longer alight. "Kuno you blockhead!" Nabiki yelled at him. "There isn't time for this!" Hiro yelled. "We gotta go now!" Kuno stood there with his back to them looking very puzzled. He couldn't possibly have heard the voice of Nabiki Tendo. Could he? Nabiki brought out the big guns. "Tate-chan!" She called to him sweetly. This couldn't be a hallucination. Kuno turned around to see Nabiki Tendo smiling winsomely for him from the window of a heavy truck. As soon as he figured out that he wasn't seeing things, her expression became very irate. "Get in the truck you moron!" She yelled at him. Kuno turned and ran back for the truck. He saw that Hiro was still alive, and was about to say something in regards to it when Nabiki collared him and dragged him halfway through the window. "" She cried over Kuno's vehement protestations. Ferguson put the truck in gear and floored the accelerator. As the truck sped off down the boulevard, police cars finally showed up in response to the Embassy's pleas. The gas main continued to spew fifty foot high flames into the night as they put distance between themselves and the Russian Embassy. Palandir wasn't expecting his brother to have fared so well after his blast. He had thought that he had hurt him. He was mustering up the power to incinerate the fallen Anazali when he felt another power surge from behind. He spun around in midair as Aerandir brought his fists down swiftly to his sides, and the winds spiraled around the blowtorching gas main, turning it into a tornado of flame. Aerandir directed the winds again, launching the tornado at his brother. Palandir admired his brother's cleverness. He was always a master of such elemental forces as the wind, never much for the raw power of an energy blast. His wind attack was subtle in that Palandir was expecting something flashier, something with a bit of give-away before it hit. It took all his will to muster sufficient moisture around him to keep him from being broiled by the fiery tornado. As it was he felt the waves of blistering heat all around him, driving him away as fast as he could fly. He would have to flee or he would be burnt to a crisp. As long as he was close to the burning gas main he was vulnerable to more of those tornadoes. He didn't have a chance at contesting Aerandir for control of the wind. As he fled his awareness flicked out ahead of him. There was the unfinished matter of the two Wayfinders. If anyone needed to die tonight, it was them. Aerandir could wait. When Sarophan bound the Heart of the World perhaps his brother would see his mistake. In time they could be reconciled. It might take a few centuries, but that wasn't an inordinately long amount of time to wait. Aerandir knelt over Anazali. She yet lived, though her breathing was labored. Her eyes had a dull gleam of pain in them. "That was a stupid thing to do, woman," he told her softly in the tongue of the Maia. "Had he not split his attack in three parts you would have been slain." Anazali looked up with a weary smile for him. "I had to do something for the living legend of our people." Aerandir took her up into his arms and carried her gently towards the gate. The police were arriving, as well as a few fire trucks called away from the bogus crash site. He walked past all of them, caressing each man's mind, whispering to them that there was nothing to see. They let him pass without comment. He knew that Ranma and Akane had escaped. He could only hope that they were on their way to the rendezvous point with Durango and his seaplane for the quick hop across the English Channel. Palandir was out there as well. He could be searching for them even as he delayed with Anazali. A sudden prickling sensation traveled up his spine. He sniffed at the air then, not liking what he sensed. Anazali wriggled in his arms. "There, did you feel it too?" She asked him. "Yes." "It's coming," she declared. "They won't be leaving Paris yet." "You are likely correct," he responded. "Set me down," she told him then. "I can manage for myself now. You must protect them from Palandir." Chapter Five "" Heironymous Durango grumbled. Bettie's Dare was making a slow and low orbital of the vast Bois de Boulogne Park. They were sufficiently low enough and screened by the low hills surrounding Paris proper from the air search radars of Orly and Charles de Gaulle. Numerous people who walked the park below could see them, but it was of little matter. Even the emergency authorities would figure out that the crash was a hoax sooner or later. It was too dark too make out any details of the plane anyway. "" D-Day said not looking up from the Electronics Warfare suite. A stray beam of radar energy occasionally hit them, but not of sufficient strength for the kind of return signal an ATC would consider to be anything more than ground clutter. He listened over the headphones, dialing around the various radio and microwave frequencies to monitor for signs of the rescuers' progress. (Or detection.) So far there was mass confusion at the 'crash scene'. Radio calls for scuba divers and a 100 ton mobile crane were traveling back and forth across the ether. A frantic report of a gas main explosion at the Russian Embassy got his attention. He didn't have enough French to get any details, just enough to pick out key words. The cellular phone rang then. Durango fumbled it up with one hand as he kept the other on the control yoke. He turned it on and barked, "" Nabiki's voice replied. "" "" "" Nabiki hung up. "" Durango cursed. He looked up to the sky. "" D-Day looked at him after this outburst. "" "" Bettie's Dare continued its impatient orbit of the park. Ranma and Akane were about to stop running when they noticed that Fyodor and his men were only two blocks behind. The Ukrainian and his men were gaining on them. They couldn't see Hiro or the others anywhere, and suddenly wondered when they had lost them. Speaking of lost, they had no idea where they were. They were just running now. Ranma doubted that he had the kind of horsepower left to try and fight them. He would if it came down to it of course, but he wasn't very optimistic about his chances. **Maybe if I had a chance to rest.** He tugged at Akane's hand and pulled her towards the river. There was a small park here, perhaps they could lose them through it and backtrack. Akane followed after, glad at least for bringing running shoes. She had almost procured a pair of combat boots like Hiro's for this. Ranma was barefoot. At least he was used to running barefoot. "Any ideas?" He asked her. "What are you asking me for?" She replied with nary a huff. She was thankful for keeping in shape during their time with the Professor. The running was paying off. " 'Cause at the moment I'm fresh out," he declared. "I guess we can just run all night until we find Hiro and the others." They ducked through the park and twisted past tress and jumped over hedgerows. They did everything they could think of to confuse their pursuers. The park was smaller than they hoped though, and it soon ended with a broad thoroughfare about a quarter mile from the Arc de Triomphe. The Seine flowed leisurely before them, and the twin lights of two raging fires glowed in the darkened Paris sky. The more distant of the two began to fade, but the gas main fire still filled the night with an orange glow. Fyodor had anticipated their move, and sent three of his men branching off towards the river while he and the rest stayed on the trail. When Ranma and Akane burst free of the park they were only fifty meters away from them. AK-74s and an MP-5 spat a few dozen rounds in their direction. With the Russians firing on the run, and Ranma and Akane moving targets, the most they did was kick up fragments of stone and macadam at their feet and make a lot of pretty sparks. The noise did however direct Fyodor and the rest on which way the couple had run. "Will you two shut up!" Hiro yelled to Nabiki and Kuno, who were busy yelling at each other. He thought he heard something. His outburst silenced them long enough for them to hear the second burst of gunfire in the distance. Ferguson craned his neck out of the window to locate the source. "There, ya see?" He snarled at them. "Shut the hell up so we can follow after that noise." He elbowed the back window out and pulled himself gingerly through into the bed of the truck. He saw Clay sitting there, he was not very content at the moment. "" the parapsychologist remarked. "" Hiro replied. "" "" Hiro wiped at his temple again. It was starting to hurt, but looked far worse than it was. A few stitches at the most. **Now if it had been a centimeter to the right...** A third burst of gunfire perked up his ears. He thumped on the roof of the six by six truck to get Ferguson's attention. "" "" Ferguson replied, and jerked the wheel to the left. Hiro checked his Sig fully loaded. He was out of ammo for anything else. Only five magazines too. At the rate he had been using ammunition, it wouldn't last. He turned over his shoulder to look at Clay. "" Clay offered it up to him with the three magazines he had left. Hiro took the other Sig and smiled. He tucked the extra Sig magazines in his satchel. "Just call me 'Pistolero'," he said to himself, holding the two P-220s up in a gunfighter stance. Gods help those Russians when he got within range. They only had one way to go now. Ranma and Akane sprinted for the bridge across the Seine to the Left Bank. Fyodor and his men pursued them brandishing their rifles openly before the throngs of curious that came out of their homes following the blackout. Fyodor knocked them over whenever they got in his way. He wouldn't let Ranma and his fiancée get away. When the crowds became too thick to run through, he cut loose with burst of rifle fire and they obliged him with screams and lots of diving for cover. Not having a police presence was at last working for them now, he had no fears of running into a Gendarme with them all over at the Notre Dame Cathedral. One of his men blasted away at the two again. He succeeded in putting out a bunch of automobile windows, but little else. The gunfire rightly inspired Ranma and Akane to run a little faster. The Left Bank was on a separate power grid than across the river. Thus it was still lit. Ornate street lamps glowed for them, which would have been very pretty to look at and even a little romantic to stroll under with the love of your life at your side if there weren't a bunch of bloodthirsty Russians led by one particularly psychotic Ukrainian hot on your heels. He looked to Akane. At least he had the love of his life by his side. At first Ranma didn't realize what he was running towards. He was too busy trying to stay on his feet and avoid all of the people that were outside to watch the disturbances in the city. Fyodor and his goon squad shooting at them at least got the citizens out of their way. It was when Akane gasped in awe that he looked up. Not so far ahead of them was the Eiffel Tower. His nightmare came back to him in a rush. Every fiber in his being wanted to drag him in some other direction. The sudden appearance of Palandir above them gave him other ideas. Like ducking for cover. He and Akane made a sudden juke to the right as Palandir rained down a vicious blast of crimson heat death at them. The blast dug a meter wide trench through the street. Fyodor and his men pointed up into the sky and began shooting at Palandir. The range was long, only a single round zipped through the Maia. He clutched at his chest as blood spurted forth from the front and the rear of his body. He felt the round pass straight through him. It punctured his right lung, which was bad in and of itself, but at least the tiny 5.45mm round hadn't struck bone. He could cope. He coughed up a little blood, willing away the sudden fire in his chest cavity from the collapsed lung. The pain at least fueled his rage. He called up a bolt of hellfire from within him heedless of the fact that he might need it to heal himself. This was the first time one of these worms had injured him in a very long time. That insult would not go unaddressed. "DIE!!!" He told the offending rifleman. The hellfire spurted forth from his hand to strike the Russian square in the chest. The man burst into spectral flames and fell to the ground writhing in agony. Fyodor and the rest dove for cover as the man's dying screams echoed across the well to do neighborhood. There was just a pile of ashes when it was over. Palandir sank to the ground. It was too much to remain in the air and try and repair the damage within him at the same time. He watched Ranma and Akane sprint away like rabbits and gurgled an impotent curse at them. He had spent the last of his offensive strength in that wasteful lesson upon the rifleman. Fyodor looked up to the sky, but the man was gone. He knew it was the same man who had nearly killed him at the Dniester river. The same man who had been ghosting Doctor Casimir's research group, and his own men for months. Cautiously he got to his feet. Upon seeing that no bolts of light struck him down, the survivors joined him. They made their way forward, using the parked cars for cover. When he got close to where the man had floated, he saw a fresh pool of blood, still warm. **He bleeds...** Fyodor thought to himself. The others saw the blood and drew the same conclusion as himself. **We can kill this man if he shows his face again. We must simply be faster on the draw.** "" he told his men. "" Ranma and Akane didn't know that Palandir was wounded. They kept running in the only direction they had available. That was in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. Once they scrambled across the marble tiles a hundred yards from the Tower they realized that while Palandir was not chasing them anymore, Fyodor and his goon squad were. The ironwork of the Tower suddenly sounded like a good hiding spot. **Maybe I could take them out one or two at a time up there. No way I could do it out here in the open. I'd just get the both of us shot.** "Come on," he told her. "To the tower." She followed him across the marble tiles and skirted around a large pool. The fountains were spraying and cheerfully lit with white, blue, and red lights. The massive ironwork frame of the Eiffel Tower towered three hundred meters high before them. The elevators were shut down, and the doors to the stairwells up the four legs of the tower were locked. A few twenty-something Parisians watched them scramble around for a way up in amusement. Finally Ranma got mad enough to rip a door off it's hinges. The Parisians decided to leave quickly at this point. He and Akane clambered up the winding iron stairs as fast as they could. The first observation deck was a good ways up. When they got there they were starting to get winded. "How far have we been running?" Akane asked him with a pant. "Four, five miles. Plus all the fighting, running up these damn stairs." Ranma paused to catch his breath. It was then that he realized that he had caught a piece of shrapnel from those grenades. Either that or piece of the pavement that Palandir blew up right behind them. His back was sore, and fresh blood came away from his hand. Akane gasped in fright. "Ranma!" She cried. "I'm all right. I don't think it's bad." He told her. "I just noticed it myself." She wasn't buying it. She turned him around and gingerly lifted the tattered tuxedo jacket and shirt to inspect the wound. There was a piece of steel wire just sticking out of the small of his back, to the left of his spine. It was just like the piece Hiro had pulled out of his leg. She couldn't tell how much was inside, and was afraid to touch it for fear of hurting Ranma even worse. "Oh my God, Ranma. There's a piece of metal in your back." She said in a frightened voice. She thought of him huddling over her when those grenades had exploded. The shrapnel was meant for her. "I said I'll be okay. It ain't the first time for me you know. It's just another scar to add to the collection, that's all." **It would be nice if it would stop happening though...** "It's the first time I've had to know about it," she told him crossly. "You know I worry about you just as much as you worry about me." He looked softly at her. He knew she cared, but there was a time and a place for it. This wasn't the time and it wasn't the place. "I know you do Akane. But right now we gotta think of a place to hide from these guys. Come on." He took her by the hand. The first observation deck was also a restaurant. It was also locked. Ranma had committed enough property damage for one night. There were other places they could hide. "Higher?" Akane asked as they came to the next set of stairs. "Yeah, that way we'll be able to hold them off easier." He gestured to the way the four legs of the tower gracefully arched inwards towards each other at the top. "If we get lucky they won't look for us here. But don't count on it, 'cause so far our luck ain't been so good." "" Fyodor thundered. The park was big and open, but with their head start they could have gone in any direction and disappeared from sight by now. The gaggle of Parisians ran by. He stopped them short with a quick burst of rifle fire. He turned to Mikhail, who spoke French, and pointed at the college students. Mikhail asked them if they had seen a young Japanese couple, and that they had best answer as quickly and as honestly as possible. Fyodor brandished his rifle and scowled at them from beneath his dark forelocks for effect. The students pointed frantically at the Eiffel Tower. Fyodor looked at the imposing structure and nodded. With a quick word to Mikhail and the others he started stomping off towards the tower. The students huddled together, fully expecting to be shot. When the last of the Russians turned his back, they ran away as fast and as quietly as they could. Ferguson didn't need to follow the sounds of gunfire anymore. He just asked all of the frightened Parisians on the streets a few direct questions and was rewarded with the direction they had run and how long ago that was. The hard part was getting through the traffic. It seemed everyone in the city was driving around to see what was going on. Everyone was talking about the airplane crash they heard about over battery operated radios. Now there was a terrorist bombing at the Russian Embassy or something. A gas line had exploded and threatened that part of the city. Hiro stood in the bed of the six by six with his pistols lowered in hand. They were catching up, but how far away were the Russians? At least no one had said anything about two Japanese being killed. "" Ferguson grunted as the cars moving across the Seine wouldn't let them get by and onto the bridge. Hiro complied. He jumped out of the truck, favoring his wounded leg, and stumped over to the offending automobile drivers. He was in no mood to mince around with pleasantries. His friends lives' were in danger. He casually smashed the driver's side window of the first car trying to cut them off and jammed one of the Sigs against the driver's nose. With the other Sig in hand he waved the truck through. The driver of the car began to babble in terror. Hiro screamed at him to shut up in Japanese and dug the pistol in a little deeper. The man shut up. Ferguson rolled by. "" "" Hiro smiled. When the truck was on the bridge Hiro removed the pistol from the man's nose. There was a little .45 caliber sized circular indentation pressed into the end. He bowed for the man and jogged at a limp to the truck and hopped into the bed. The truck sped off across the bridge. Nabiki gave him a wink and a grin through the broken back window of the cab. It was only when the queue of cars behind him began honking and yelling at him that he remembered to start driving again. They got across the bridge. About that time the Parisian students who had narrowly escaped Fyodor with their lives came barreling through. Hiro and Ferguson had seen enough of that in the last few minutes to know that they were on the right track. Ferguson yelled for them to stop. They kept going. Hiro waved the pistols in their faces and they came to a weary halt, not believing their ill fortune this evening. Ferguson asked them the standard questions. They replied that a bunch of rifle toting thugs had also asked them about Ranma and Akane. Then they pointed to the Eiffel Tower. Ferguson thanked them for their help and floored the accelerator. The students decided to call it a night before someone _did_ decide to shoot them at the end of the interview. Nabiki decided that now would be a good time to call Durango. She picked up the cellular phone and began dialing. Kuno was sulking in his seat next to her. He had wanted to swim in the hot flowing rivers of his enemies' blood, but so far they had all just run away the minute he started hacking up their companions. It just wasn't fair that no one would give him a stand up fight. "" Heironymous Durango asked her in a grouchy voice as he picked up the phone on his end. "" Nabiki berated him. "" "" came Durango's self-assured reply. "" "" "" Nabiki hung up. "" Durango told D-Day. "" D-Day consulted his chart. "" "" Durango cried. "" "" Durango had to concede that point. While the aerial phase of this operation had gone off without a hitch (he knocked on a piece of the plywood divider panel), the ground phase had gone straight to hell. Drinking a stiff snort of the Professor's brandy and smoking a good Churchill sounded really great right now. He nosed the throttles forward a bit and pulled the Catalina into a nice wide flat turn. He didn't have the altitude to try anything terribly fancy. He set course straight for the Eiffel Tower, another Paris landmark someone had thoughtfully illuminated for him. Then he lit up one of his Don Diego Churchills, sucked in a huge drag, and then began chewing on the end as the smoke spilled out of his grinning mouth. Ranma and Akane were up to the second observation deck now. It was about halfway up the tower. They stopped to rest for a few minutes. At least they would be able to see Fyodor and his goon squad approaching. What they didn't know was that Fyodor and his goon squad were already there. They had missed their approach as they climbed the many steps to the second deck. They also didn't know that Mikhail knew where the circuit breakers for the elevators were. So when two of Fyodor's men stepped out of the elevator with rifles at the ready, you can imagine Ranma and Akane's surprise. They froze in place. The two men began to fan out, covering each other with their rifles. The tower made the occasional settling noise, even after over a century of standing, and the two would carefully investigate each one. In one of those occupied moments Ranma pulled Akane quietly up into the ironwork structure When one of them nosed close, Ranma carefully made his way along the ironwork and hung upside down over the man. His hands lashed out, snapping the man's neck instantly. The Russian slumped to the deck. Ranma pulled himself back up into the ironwork. Hopefully Akane hadn't seen that. He may have gotten over his reluctance to kill when necessary, but it was never an act he was proud of. His partner lost sight of him and called out softly in Russian. If Ranma had even a clue about that language he might have said something softly in reply to allay the man's suspicions. Instead he waited very patiently. This was for Akane's sake he told himself. He reached down to snap his neck when he got close. At that moment the piece of shrapnel in his back shifted, and a white hot sliver of pain shot out to the ends of all his nerves. It was too sudden and too intense to hold back a gasp of pain. The Russian jumped back and cut loose with a long burst above him. Bullets zinged and whined around him with bright firework flowers of red and orange sparks. The Russian had misguessed his position, but in the spray of light from the long muzzle flash he saw where Ranma hung. He dropped back and corrected his aim. Ranma flew out of the girders and somersaulted onto the ground. The second burst went high, ringing across the iron work. Ranma charged the man before he could get a third burst off. He took the man with a head butt in the midsection. The man nearly dropped his rifle as Ranma slammed him against a beam. Then his back spasmed again and he lost his leverage. The Russian dropped his rifle down hard on Ranma's back. The young martial artist felt his knees go weak and he slumped to the deck. The Russian threw a loose knife-edge kick that caught him across the jaw. Ranma flew backwards and splayed along the deck. The Russian leveled his rifle to shoot Ranma through the chest when Akane cried out in her most wrathful voice: "DROP IT OR I'LL KILL YOU!!!" It was at this point that the Russian noticed that Akane was pointing an AK-74 at him. She had screamed at him in Japanese, which he didn't understand a word of, but the rifle made her intent clear enough. Ranma looked up from the floor in shock. **She doesn't know how to use one of those! Does she...?** The Russian decided she was serious enough to use the rifle. He spun on her and squeezed the trigger. **Nothing! The rifle was empty!** Her body was moving too fast for her mind to register this fact. Akane closed her eyes and jerked at her trigger. The AK-74 exploded into a fusillade of 5.45mm copper-jacketed lead. Shell casings spilled all over the ironwork. She had no firm concept of recoil, as the only guns she had ever really seen in action before this night had been on television or the movies. Thus when she began hosing her Russian-made heater at the man, she quickly lost control. The assault rifle belched out its storm of fully automatic fire totally out of control. She tried to walk it back in the right direction, but just kept throwing the bullets around in crazy circles. She was clamped down on the trigger in panic, too busy trying to hold onto the damn thing to realize that if she let off the trigger it would stop on its own. **Guess not!** Ranma thought suddenly in terror. He threw himself into a fetal position in the hopes that the wild ricochets she was causing wouldn't hit him. Spent rounds crashed and whined all over the second deck. The stroboscopic flashes of gunfire made for interesting lighting effects upon the iron framework, but Ranma was too busy fearing for his life to appreciate it. About three seconds later the rifle was empty. The Russian slid down the girder to the deck and lay very still. Akane dropped the rifle and stared at the man in shock and self loathing. Ranma got back to his feet and looked at the Russian. Akane was close to tears at this point, but something was very wrong here. There should have been enough blood and gore splattered all over the place to look like a slaughterhouse. He crept over to the man. "Don't touch him," Akane gasped. Ranma looked down to the man. **Jeez... Full auto at point blank range and she couldn't hit him once... He must have passed out from fright.** Then the smell hit him. He jerked his face away and tried not to gag. **Yep... He was scared all right!** He stood up and laughed at her. "Akane, you are such a klutz!" He said with a wry smile. "What?!" She spluttered. "Next time let the professional handle it." Akane began to realize that she hadn't killed the man. Her sense of relief was suddenly cut short as her brain engaged again. "Professional? If I hadn't done that you'd be dead now!" She protested. "You damn near killed me yourself with that thing." He nudged at the depleted rifle with his foot. "Where'd you get it anyway?" "From the guy whose neck you broke," she replied off-handedly. He suddenly flushed with shame. She punched him lightly in the arm. "I don't think badly of you Ranma..." She said quietly. "You did what had to be done..." "Come on," he said then, not wishing to discuss it further. He snatched up the other guy's rifle and the few spare magazines. The smell was really bad now. He decided the best thing he could do was leave him there after taking everything he might use to fight with. "This is bound to attract attention." Fyodor and the others converged on the elevators from the third and highest deck. At a radio prompt from Fyodor, Mikhail secured the elevators from the first deck down so they couldn't escape the tower. There was no radio contact from Sergei or from Anton, and that was a bad sign. Ranma and Akane took the elevator down to the first deck. If the Russians could use them, they weren't going to argue about it. Hopefully they could sneak away. The doors opened onto the first deck. A Russian was there with his back towards them. Another was standing on the other side of the first, facing the elevator. He yelled, Ranma yelled, Akane yelled. The first Russian turned around in time to catch Ranma's fist in his face. His knees went out as Akane stabbed at the 'door close' button. The doors slid shut and up they went. Bullets slammed into the elevator, but with all of the iron framework around them, they were just ricochets. The truck stopped at the base of the tower. Hiro wasted no time in shooting the Russian who stood guard over a service shack next to one of the massive legs. It was Mikhail, and now he had a couple hydrashoks in his gut to worry about. He clutched at his stomach as Hiro kicked away his rifle. The man wasn't in any shape to answer questions, so he and Kuno looked at the stairway door ripped off its hinges and drew their own conclusions. Hiro threw the rifle to Nabiki, who passed it immediately to Ferguson. The scientist studied the weapon for a few moments before setting it on the dash. "" he explained to her. "" They came out on the second deck again. For a minute Ranma considered trying the stairs, but they all passed the first deck in big wide open areas. It was possible to cover three legs of the tower from one corner. That was asking to get shot. As the doors opened, Ranma took a quick look around. There was nothing in front of the doors. He poked his head out, and Fyodor jerked him out of the elevator the rest of the way. The man's huge hand neatly palmed the top of Ranma's head as he did so. As Ranma flew across the observation deck, his rifle spilled over the side and was gone. Fyodor's partner grabbed at Akane. She responded by cold- cocking him with a shot to the jaw. The Russian made one startled cry before flying into Fyodor, and knocking his rifle from his hand. Akane launched a desperate kick at the weapon, punting it neatly over the side. The big Ukrainian backhanded her in response. She flew against the elevator with a cry of pain. Fyodor palmed her head as well and threw her in Ranma's direction. Ranma caught her up in his arms and kept her from joining the two rifles over the side. "I think we're in trouble," he whispered to her. This was starting to look chillingly like their favorite nightmare. He turned over his shoulder and looked out across Paris. **Definitely looks familiar,** he thought darkly. "I don't need a weapon," Fyodor menaced in badly accented Japanese. He popped his knuckles and started walking towards them. Ranma sighed tiredly. He was just about out of gas at this point. He had maybe a minute of no holds barred fight left in him. Keeping Akane at his back, he assumed a fighting stance appropriate for facing off against Godzilla. As Fyodor closed the range, two more of his men appeared from the elevators. They had come from the first deck obviously. "" one of them stammered. "" Fyodor stopped. "" He bellowed, still keeping his eyes on Ranma. "" "" Ranma began to feel a peculiar tingling sensation at the base of his spine. At first he thought it was the piece of metal stuck in him. But when his tongue began to tingle he began to tremble with anger. The wind began to pick up around them. **Not now! Anytime but now! I don't need this kind of distraction!** Akane touched him worriedly. She could feel it too. Fyodor decided that they had no time to play around. If Mikhail was dead then the friends of these two were on their way. He gestured to the two Japanese who were obviously quivering with fear. "" he ordered them. The two leveled their rifles at Ranma and Akane. "I love you, Ranma," she whispered desperately. "It ain't over yet." Hiro and Kuno charged up the stairs at the run. Hiro couldn't even feel his leg wound anymore he was so charged up. Hiro had the lead, and body checked one of the gunmen. His burst cut loose into the overhead and he fell to the ground. The second one spun around in time to catch Kuno's katana in the belly. The swordsman opened him up like a can of spam. "Go Akane!" Ranma yelled, pushing her away from him. Sparkles of light began to dance around them. Fyodor was too fast for them. He palmed Akane by the face and threw her over the side of the rail. Ranma twisted backwards to catch her arm and was pulled over the side with her. They fell towards unforgiving concrete hundreds of feet below. "NO!!!" Hiro screamed. He emptied both Sigs into Fyodor's chest. Every round struck dead on, but the giant didn't even flinch. Hiro stared dumbfounded. "Body armor," Fyodor replied smugly in his mangled Japanese. "No coat of mail shall withstand the blade of the Blue Thunder!" Kuno bellowed. Upon seeing Ranma and Akane plummet over the side his heart twisted in rage beyond imagining. Once again his katana burst forth with spectral blue flames, though once again he was unaware of that fact. Fyodor knew a few kevlar panels weren't going to stop a katana. Particularly one that suddenly burst into flames. He wished now that he had waited long enough in Monaco to kill this raving samurai lunatic. **The man was relentless!** He did the only thing he could in that situation, which was pick up the stunned Maxim and throw him at Kuno. The swordsman lashed out with his blade so swiftly that Maxim was diced into bite sized pieces before his mortal remains could hit the ground. It was just enough of a delay for Fyodor to make a break for the stairs. He drew a Tokarev and emptied it ineffectually at them in escape. Kuno tried to pursue but slipped on Maxim and lost his balance enough for the Ukrainian to get away. The wind was bitter and cold and just getting stronger. Hiro began to notice the sparkles of light in the air. Then he heard a very faint cry for help. He looked over the side to see Ranma hanging by one arm from the framework, with Akane clutching tightly to his chest. They were a _long_ way down. "Saotome! Akane-chan!" He cried. Ranma couldn't hold on for much longer. He was too weak and wasted, and in addition to having himself to worry about there was Akane weighing him down even more. He could feel his grip loosening more and more. It was about a hundred feet to the ground. He looked up to Hiro high above him. That was about two hundred and fifty feet of climb, assuming he could get a foot hold somewhere. Which he couldn't. The light began to sparkle around them. He grit his teeth in anger. Who cared if the next event was here and now? They were gonna die and it wouldn't make any difference. The wind became even stronger now, rocking them back and forth as they hung. "I can't look," Akane said in a soft voice. "It ain't over yet," Ranma growled. He tried to make himself believe it. The sparkling lights became even brighter, more numerous, it was just a matter of moments now before the next event unfolded around them. Ferguson felt the wind pick up. He looked up at the tower and saw that it was shimmering faintly with a golden light. Motes of color began to appear around it. Even Nabiki noticed it. "" She asked. "" Clay cried from the bed of the truck. He stood up and began to open himself to it as he had many times before. "" Ferguson yelled. "" "I got an idea," he told her as they nearly fell. He clamped down hard on the girder and garnered them an extra few seconds of purchase. Akane was ready to hear him tell her they could fly. "We're gonna fly," he told her. Well, not quite ready for that. She gave him a hopeless look in response. The wind was raging around them now. They were oscillating pretty badly. "No I mean it!" Ranma protested. "Anazali said I could draw on this kinda stuff, that I just didn't know I was doing it. I don't have the power left to try this now, and I don't think you do either, but what about when the event gets here? You know how much power there is when that happens." She could already feel the enormous buildup of energy around them. The event unfolded then with a flash of brilliant white light. A rush of wind tore them free from the girder, and for a moment they were actually heading upwards. Then they began their fall towards the ground. "Hold on tight!" Ranma cried. He had all the power he needed in that moment. "" D-Day yelled as the Eiffel Tower lit up before them. A column of golden light rose high into a bank of clouds from the tower. Paris was aglow with the light, truly living up to its name. Durango grinned and put his sunglasses on. "Oh God!" Nabiki cried as she looked up and saw Ranma and Akane falling through waves of golden light. **This is the only flying trick I know...** Ranma thought in that instant before release. Akane could feel the air get very cold around them as he drew the energy in for his blast. He held onto Akane with one arm and thrust the other up into the air as they plummeted straight down. "HIRYU SHOTEN HA!!!" He dropped his arm savagely towards the ground. The Dragon Cyclone blowtorched through them and spiraled towards the ground. It rebounded then and shot back up at them. Ranma nearly lost his hold on Akane as the blast wave struck them. Now they were flying. Flying straight through blinding amounts of energy. Ten times what they'd endured in the Alhambra. It was like being in the center of a brilliant and comfy warm sun. In fact they were flying straight up the now golden sides of the Eiffel Tower. Very fast. Hiro saw them coming and reached out with his arms. Kuno held onto Hiro to keep him from going over the side. At the very limit of his reach he caught them. Ranma and Akane couldn't feel it, because they were somewhere and somewhen else right then. They saw an island nation in the very zenith of its existence. Radiant people like Aerandir and Anazali walked the wide tree lined streets. Baroque flying machines formed like butterflies, birds, and even more esoteric creatures floated silently upon the air. They found themselves standing in a great public square filled with people. Before them was an enormous pyramid of white stone. Golden light flowed from the top of the pyramid and bathed everything in its radiance. Akane turned, and there were the stone lion fountains of the Alhambra standing next to them. Water continued to flow from their mouths as they spoke to them. The water flowed around them and then seemed to fade away. "Watch," they told them. "Learn." They looked back to the pyramid, which began to shimmer and quake. People began to look around in distress. The radiant glow of light began to change colors to an angry red. They watched as a hundred men in flowing robes scaled the pyramid at a run. They raised their hands to the sky, perhaps praying, perhaps fighting what was happening. It was to no avail. The pyramid exploded with the force of a hydrogen bomb. As the blast wave rolled out to consume the island, Ranma and Akane saw that the people did not disintegrate, but were instead drawn into the fiery core of the blast. Everyone was sucked into the fireball even as the seas drowned the entire island. The lions were weeping water from their eyes as well as their mouths. "We are trapped in the Heart of the World," they told them. "But you must not free us." Ranma and Akane looked at them in puzzlement. "If you're trapped then why don't you want to be free?" Akane asked. The stone lions looked at her. "To free us would mean to repeat this tragedy. Never again." The fireball faded away from their eyes. A small white pyramid appeared then before them. Ranma could see into it, and he suddenly knew how perfectly it was formed. He didn't know how he knew, but he was getting used to the practice of ideas being planted into his head. He also knew how important it was for the pyramid to remain flawless within. And for some odd reason how important it was for the pyramid, no, something corrected him; for the prism to be flawed within. Very important. Part of his consciousness slapped him around and told him to pay attention to that last part. The world exploded back into view around them. Hiro heaved with all his might and pulled them onto the observation deck. The night sky went dark again and the wind died away around them. Hiro held the two of them close to him. They trembled in his embrace at the power and vision they had experienced. The Eiffel Tower's radiance faded away and returned to its regular black iron self. Kuno stood guard over them, his sword no longer burning. * * * Bettie's Dare was twenty minutes from the McFogg estate. Ferguson and Clay sat on chairs and dozed idly. Kuno knelt on the floor of the cabin and meditated upon his sword. Nabiki cleaned up the bloody mess that was Hiro's face, clucking motherly every time he winced. The gash on his temple was only going to need a few stitches. Hiro carried on like he was mortally wounded. Durango poked his head in to check on everyone while D-Day had the wheel. They were bloody, they were hurting, and they were very tired. One thing was certain however: When they looked to the other side of the cabin, what they saw told each of them that the price they'd paid was worth it. Akane cradled Ranma in her lap. He was fast asleep, the first decent sleep he'd had since his abduction. She was happy to hold him close and occasionally whisper something in his ear. He never responded, but he had a deep and contented smile. * * * That Ryoga Hibiki was lost was such a hopelessly regular occurrence as to be cliché. That didn't change the fact that it was all too true. He struggled on through the jungle, with no idea where he was, and the sinking feeling that he was wandering in circles again. That sinking feeling hit him in spades when he saw that he _was_ walking in circles again. He had passed this same crashed airplane twice today. He knew it couldn't be a different plane, because the same skeletal body of its pilot lay halfway out of the cockpit window wearing the same faded floral pattern shirt. The jungle had long since overgrown the wreck. He was feeling pretty depressed, and just a little tired of all of this. He sat down next to the wreckage of the plane and thought long and hard about where he could possibly be. He hadn't heard Chinese in a very long time, not since winter, and so he gathered that he was no longer in China anymore. He was positive that he had crossed no large bodies of water. Positive! That had to put him in Asia. The locals he had seen had dark skin and black hair. They spoke a language altogether unfamiliar to him. Where did that put him? **India maybe?** It was a thought. India was close to China as far as he remembered. He heard a rustling through the jungle nearby. He looked up to see three small boys looking at him. It was a look he was used to: locals staring at the stranger. He was too tired and homesick to care. The boys took another look at him. He wore camouflage pattern trousers and combat boots that had seen a lot of marching by the look of the worn soles. He wore a dingy tank top because wherever this place was, it was sure hot and humid! A yellow and black headband completed the ensemble. It was when they saw his traveling pack that the children freaked. "El Paraguo Rojo!" The oldest of them cried, pointing to the red bamboo umbrella Ryoga carried with him, and then to Ryoga himself. "El Javelino!!" The other two cried in unison. The three ran away as fast as they could into the jungle. Ryoga watched them go. He didn't think Indian children would be so rude. He wished that he had spent enough time in one place to pick up a little of the language. As it stood he knew enough to ask for work to pay for his food and shelter, please and thank-you; politeness kinds of words. Nothing substantial. He sighed and went to sleep. Perhaps he'd figure it out over a nap. A voice woke him. He opened his eyes to see a man squatting down on his haunches looking at him. He wore faded jeans, soft knee high buckskin boots, and a Grateful Dead T-shirt. The man had a golden complexion to his skin -not just a healthy tan, but a faint metallic shimmer to it when the errant ray of sunshine poked through the jungle canopy to strike it. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable in a bed?" The man asked him. It sounded like Japanese, but Ryoga noticed that his mouth wasn't moving correctly for the sounds he was making. Watching him speak was like watching a badly dubbed movie. He seemed friendly, and Ryoga was so lonely at this point he was dying for the chance to talk to someone. Perhaps this stranger could tell him where he was. Instead the man said to him: "You look like you could use a good meal as well. Come. Follow me and I shall see that you get both." "Both?" Ryoga asked. He was still a little groggy when the man first spoke to him. "A bed and a meal," the man supplied. "It isn't far." Ryoga had nothing better to do, so he followed him. End of Part Eight Author's Notes: 1) I had meant for a lot more to be discussed in this installment than space permitted. Part 8 is really the rescue of Ranma now. I suppose if you're happy then I'm happy. Part 9 was my buffer installment against my dreaded literary elephantitus anyway. 2) I would like to thank Big T of Fission Park for his assistance with the procedures for declaring in-flight emergencies and with general Air Traffic Control protocols. Squawking '7700' with your transponder is an emergency signal. 121.5 MHz is the distress radio frequency. 3) I would also like to thank Front 242, Gravity Kills, Metallica, Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult for their invaluable inspiration while I wrote this. For your own information, the original draft of Part 8 was much bloodier because of them. Later I felt that the violence needed to be toned down, although the recent spate of snuff-fics on the FFML may have desensitized some of you. 4) Last of all I thank my proofreaders and Men in Europe, who kindly pointed out all of my mistakes. These would be Jerome in Paris, Chris Rijk in London (even if we rarely agree, thanks whole bunches), and Bridget Engmen with her fine toothed comb. (Even if she isn't in Europe, I'm including her anyway.) 5) You didn't really think I was going to have Akane kill someone did you? Shame on you! Free the Nukes!