Well, here I am again!
^_^
As usual, I insert my pleas and wishes for C&C here. I honestly appreciate
recieving anything you people have to give, so feel free to drop a line and
let me know how I'm doing, okay?
Let's see, there's something else I'm supposed to do...
Oh, and of course, if anybody would like to see what-all's been going on in
Ronin Summer up to this point, I have previous story arcs archived at my
website. The address is
http://dataraven_659.tripod.com/roninsummer.html
There is a mirror page at
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Underworld/4709/roninsummer1.html
If you want previous chapters of Dark Crusade, you'll have to e-mail me for
them. It's not hard : my address is up there in the Cc: line of this
message.
I've been told that clicking the "Reply" button has also been known to work.
^_^
Anyway, on with the show!
_______________________________________________________
Say Bye to Slow Internet!
http://www.home.com/xinbox/signup.html
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
OBLIGATORY LEGAL DISCLAIMER : Some of these guys aren't mine. The
Sailor Senshi belong to DIC and Kodansha, while the Yoroiden are owned
by Sunrise and Graz Entertainment. Okay? So don't bother suing me. I'm
a student.
RONIN SUMMER : DARK CRUSADE
A Sailor Moon / Yoroiden Samurai Troopers cross-over
by Morgan Hudson (dataraven_659@excite.com)
Chapter Four : SEARCHING
It was early winter in Tokyo, but the rain didn't care. It fell
less in drops than in sheets, pounding against the icy pavement and
sending chunks of melting snow floating down the streets like miniature
icebergs, seeking miniature ships to sink. A loud peal of thunder
rolled through the air, vibrating through the nearly vacant streets
like the beating of a giant snare drum.
It was not the best of weather for man or beast, and yet both
were out in meager numbers. Salarymen struggled to keep their umbrellas
in their hands, as the malicious wind tore at the thin fabric shields.
It was nearly nine o'clock, and the government offices would be opening
soon. There were a few shopkeepers slogging through the storm, as
well : stores had to be open for business by ten, and there was always
stock to shelve.
Traffic was light, and most of the children were safe in their
schools by this hour, probably grateful to have missed the worst of
the storm on their way to class. A local bus hydroplaned down the
street, great plumes of water rising from the flooded street on either
side as it doggedly followed its route.
Two men in particular were less than pleased with the weather.
One, trying to shake off the excess water that the bus had deposited
onto his already soaked form, turned to his compatriot. "Well?"
"It's raining." The other man was shorter, clutching one arm
to his ribs as he shuffled down the sidewalk. He wore long black
hakama, the pleated pants of a samurai, and had a long shirt partially
tucked into his waisband. The shirt may at one point have been white,
but was now leaning towards a dark pink, as the rainwater mixed with
the blood staining his left side.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." The taller of the two men was
wearing black pants and a quilted vest over a black shirt. His clothes
were practically glued to his frame by the water, and his silver hair
hung limply behind him as he lifted his arms and tried to rearrange
the sodden patch clinging to his left eye. "What the hell do you want
ME to do about it?"
"Nothing." Gritting his teeth, the dark haired man limped over
to a buzzing streetlight and sniffed slightly. "Rain just makes it
harder, you know. It'll wipe out his trail, and it's hard enough
tracking him through all this." He shook his head, and sniffed again.
"I think I've got his scent, and one other, but it's confused."
"Confused?" The taller man made a face and glanced around to
make sure nobody was paying attention to them. Despite their outlandish
appearance, nobody seemed curious enough to risk getting wetter just
to find out what they were up to. "Explain 'confused' for me, Anubis."
"Confused," the Masho of Darkness explained as he continued
sniffing the air, "as in it should be Seiji Date, but isn't. Not quite.
Whoever it is, they're with Naaza. And they went..." He sniffed around
a bit more, before pointing down the road. "THAT way."
"Wonderful." Rajura, Masho of Deception, consulted a fine
golden watch that on closer inspection resembled a miniature sundial.
Not one to be troubled by cloud cover, he had somehow arranged for it
to have a miniature sun, as well. "We have another three and a half
hours before the gate reopens." Removing his eyepatch, he wrung out at
least a pint of water from the scrap of cloth before reattaching it to
his head. "I suggest we hurry : my patch is getting soggy."
**********
Haruka Ten'ou idly poked at her breakfast with her chopsticks
as she stared out of the window. The rain pummeled the thin plate of
glass as though frustrated at the unexpected resistance. All in all,
the blonde woman reflected, it was a bad day to go outside. Wisely,
she had decided not to.
Across the table, Michiru Kaioh set down her bowl of miso soup
and cast a concerned glance over at her partner. "I'm not sure about
this," she said in her usual lilting tones. "Perhaps we really should
try to get to school. Even being late would be better than missing the
day completely."
"In this weather?" Haruka snorted. "Sure, why not? You go get
Hotaru's boots, and I'll start building the ark. I told you, Michi,
nobody is setting foot outside this house until I can look out that
window without some fish looking back."
"I don't think it's that bad." Michiru smiled secretively as
she slid around the table to sit next to Haruka, taking the other
woman's hand in her own. "I mean, it's kind of romantic, to me. Water
and air, joining as one, merging until nobody can be sure where one
stops and the other begins..."
Haruka raised one eyebrow. "Are you still talking about the
rain, Sailor Neptune?"
Michiru smiled again, and rested her head on Haruka's shoulder.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, "but I know a way to find out..." Slowly,
the woman craned her neck until her lips were just barely brushing
Haruka's, their breath mingling as they slowly leaned towards each
other.
"Good morning, Haruka-papa. Good morning, Michiru-mama." A
pale young girl drifted into the room and folded her legs under her,
smoothing the pleats in her skirt with one hand as she reached for
her chopsticks. "I must have overslept : I'm sorry."
Haruka groaned, and began to chuckle. With a soft laugh of her
own, Michiru pecked her lover on the forehead and sat back, smiling
at their adopted daughter. "Nuts," Haruka sighed, "and just when it
about to get good. We need to work on your timing, kiddo."
Hotaru smiled slightly. "As my role models, you should be far
more careful how you behave in the presence of minors."
Haruka grinned. "Good point. Go to your room."
Sipping from her bowl of soup, the raven haired young girl
checked her watch. "We're quite late for school, aren't we? First bell
was nearly an hour ago."
"We aren't going today, Hotaru-chan." Haruka retrieved her
chopsticks and continued picking at her breakfast. "I've got a really
bad feeling about this storm : we'd be better off staying inside." The
woman sighed and straightened the collar of her boy's school uniform.
"Not to mention," Michiru added, "that it knocked out the power
last night and none of our alarms went off this morning. And Haruka
hates bucket duty."
"Yes," the taller woman agreed as she shook back her short
fringe of golden hair, "Haruka hates bucket duty. And all of her
teachers know that she hates it, which is why they always give it to
her. Excuse me, but I believe that something you hate deserves to be
avoided."
"Oh," Hotaru pursed her lips and contemplated her breakfast
as she thought about that. "So... if I hate milk, then I can avoid
drinking it?"
"Drink your milk," Haruka said firmly, dashing young Hotaru's
hopes. The girl took a reluctant sip from her glass and made a sour
face as Haruka began reading the newspaper.
"And don't think I don't see that face you're making, young
lasy" she said, without even bothering to look up from the news. "I
know you don't like milk, but you have to drink it."
Hotaru pouted. "Why?"
"Because I say so."
"Why?"
"Because I'm in charge."
"Why?"
"Because," Haruka answered calmly, "I'm bigger than you."
Folding the paper over, she glanced over at the young girl. "Hotaru,
if you keep this up, you'll still end up drinking the milk. It's
just going to be warm when you do it. Now, ask yourself which you like
less : warm milk, or cold milk?"
Hotaru made another face and stared at her glass as though
the white liquid within was going to jump up and attack her. With a
resigned sigh, she took another sip and shuddered as she swallowed.
Michiru shrugged helpfully and returned to drinking her soup. Hotaru
looked thoughtfully at the milk still lapping against the edge of her
glass. Slowly, she ate the last of her sticky beans and pickles. "Can
I please clear the dishes from the table?"
"Yuh-huh," the voice from behind the paper responded, and an
arm stretched out, holding an additional bowl. "Knock yourself out,
kid."
Hotaru looked at Michiru, who shook her head and smiled. With a
hopeful look in her eyes once more, the girl quickly gathered all of
the dirty dishes (as well as her still-full glass) and headed into
the kitchen.
**********
Rajura cast a worried glance at Anubis as the Masho of Darkness
stumbled along the rain-soaked street. His wound was still bleeding,
and his normally inscrutable expression was contorted by pain. The
dark haired Masho was wheezing constantly, struggling for every breath
and splurting even more blood from his side with each exhalation.
"Would you let me take a look at that wound?" Rajura had the
sinking suspicion it had been a trifle more serious than the other man
had let on, and the last thing he needed was Anubis dropping dead in
the gutter. How the hell would he be expected to track Naaza then?
"No need," Anubis gasped, "I'm perfectly healthy."
"Fine," Rajura sighed, "be stubborn, Anubis, just like you
always are..."
"Thanks," the man answered, "don't mind if I do."
"...but you realise," the Masho of Deception continued, as
though his partner hadn't spoken, "that I am more than willing to wait
until you pass out from blood loss, and THEN examine you. I'd say you
have about two minutes, at this rate."
Anubis grumbled something unintelligible over his shoulder
and hobbled off down the road, with Rajura following close behind.
Neither man spoke for several minutes, simply walking in the rain and
keeping their own counsel, as both were wont to do. The rain continued
to drizzle relentlessly, forming great pools that the pair tromped
through apathetically. Finally, Anubis stopped in his tracks and glared
at the one-eyed man he was travelling with.
"I hate you," he growled.
"A wise choice," Rajura replied with an affable smile. "Most
people do, to some degree or another."
With a put-upon sigh, Anubis pulled his nightshirt out of the
waistband of his hakama. "Take your damn look, Spider, if it will get
me rid of you." Gripping the wet fabric, he peeled it off of his
muscular torso and hissed as he raised both arms above his head. Rajura
pulled a few damp strands of hair away from his good eye and kneeled
in the growing puddles on the sidewalk, peering intently at the wound
marring his fellow Masho's side.
"I see," he said at length, and glanced up at the man. "Give me
that shirt."
"Why should I?" Anubis curled his lip and clutched the sodden
material possessively.
"Because you need a bandage, and I'll be damned if I destroy a
one of my perfectly good shirts on YOUR behalf." The fabric made a
loud tearing noise as Rajura ripped it into strips and began applying
them to the other man's side. "You," he told his friend analytically,
"have a punctured lung, and a sucking chest wound. By all rights, you
should have died hours ago."
"I guess it's a good thing that I'm stubborn," Anubis hissed
as the bands of fabric rasped against his wound. "Are you done
torturing me yet? We haven't much time to find Naaza."
Rajura glared at Anubis, and roughly jammed his fingers into
the man's ribs before tying off the torn strips of fabric he had wound
around Anubis' chest and shoulder. The Masho's eyes bugged, and he
bit his lower lip until it bled, groaning in pain.
"Remember that," Rajura said with a cold glare, "the next time
you decide to be facetious. You are in no condition to beat me, if I
were to take issue with your orders : I follow you only by choice, and
convenience." The tall man rose, tossing his wet hair back over his
shoulder as he stormed away. Behind him, Anubis made a disgrunted face
and chased after, sniffing the air for any signs of their ally's
scent.
**********
Hotaru gleefully watched her milk gurgle down the drain as she
placed the rest of the dishes in the sink for washing. The rain still
tapped against the windowpane, and the young girl took a moment to
view the patterns formed as the water rippled and ran down the glass.
It was enchanting, almost hypnotic as the shapes and forms unveiled
themselves to her, melting as soon as they appeared.
Leaning closer, she traced a vague outline as the water parted
and trickled in a familiar shape. Setsuna, she thought as the image
vanished like steam on a summer's day. For a moment, she would have
sworn she could see the green-haired woman's image formed in the
ripples of rainwater. With a sigh, she rested her head in her hands
and leaned against the counter. Haruka-papa and Michiru-mama had been
acting as though nothing was different, but she could tell that even
they missed the last member of their little family.
The worst part, Hotaru reflected silently as she fiddled with a
chopstick and looked at the rain, was that nobody had even bothered
telling her what had happened. Sailor Pluto had left with the Samurai
Troopers to battle the Dark Kingdom, and the Troopers had returned
with the Inner Senshi a day later, Setsuna-less. Touma Hashiba had
taken Haruka aside and whispered something to her under his breath,
and the next thing Hotaru knew, she was in the car and going home with
the other Outer Senshi. She didn't think Pluto was dead : if that had
been the case, then Haruka-papa would have said something by now.
Still, that didn't mean she wasn't worried...
The window rattled, and Hotaru jerked back reflexively, the
chopstick snapping in her grip as she glanced around in confusion.
She must have been lost in thought, she decided. The wind probably
blew something against the glass, or maybe it had begun hailing.
Shaking her head sadly, she ran her left hand over her right, healing
the cut on her palm from the shattered utensil.
The window rattled again, and this time Hotaru saw a hand
pressed against the pane, its owner nothing more than a blur between
the darkness and the veil of water. Moving slowly, she walked around
the counter and unlocked the back door, nearly losing her grip on the
knob as a great gust of wind ripped at it and buffeted her. A thick
spray of water washed over her, chilling her to the bone as she peered
into the darkness. She stared for minutes on end, but there was
nothing as far as she could see, except for darkness and puddles of
water, rippling in the heavy rain.
"What are you doing, Hotaru?" A pair of arms wrapped around her
waist, and Haruka pulled the frail raven-haired girl back into the
warmth and safety of their home. "Do you want to catch pneumonia? You
aren't even wearing a coat!"
"I... I heard a noise, I thought I saw a hand on the window..."
Hotaru struggled slightly in Haruka's grasp, reaching for the door
again even as Michiru forced it shut. "What if somebody needs help?"
Haruka sighed. "Listen, if it'll make you feel better, I'll go
and see if there's anybody out there. Michiru, you get Hotaru upstairs
and into some dry clothes : she's soaked." Pulling on a black raincoat
and grabbing an umbrella from the nearby stand, Haruka opened the door
and rushed out into the storm.
"There, now." With a gentle smile, Michiru knelt next to Hotaru
and began to rub her shoulders. "Do you see? Haruka will go and take
care of whoever it was you saw. You go upstairs and get changed, dear.
You're starting to puddle on the floor."
**********
Haruka sloshed through the bog which had at one point been a
yard, and turned in a circle. If there was anybody out in this mess,
she reflected, they had five minutes to show themselves, and then she
was going back inside. And back to bed, if she had anything to say
about it. Fumbling slightly with the mechanism, she managed to open
her umbrella and was nearly tugged off of her feet by a particularly
bad tempered breeze. The things I do for this kid, she grumbled
mentally, and plunged on into the storm with her umbrella flapping
and bucking in her hands as though it had a life of its own.
"Hey!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping to be heard
over the howling wind. "Anybody out here? My kid saw you in the window!
Hello? Olly, olly, oxen-free!" Getting no response, she walked around
the corner of the house and headed towards the window. There, lying
on the ground, was a man. He had long silver hair, and his clothes
were plastered with mud. Squatting next to him, Haruka held the
umbrella over both of their forms and prodded him with her free hand.
"What's wrong, buddy? Car break down? Were you robbed?"
"Not... me..." The man managed to gasp, as he struggled to his
feet and pointed past Haruka's shoulder, into the dark shadows beyond.
"There's a man... passed out in the street. He needs a hospital, if
you know... where one is."
Haruka glanced first in the direction that the man was
pointing, then back down at the man himself. "Are you sure you're okay,
pal? You look a bit worn out, to me."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just need... to catch my breath. That idiot
gets pretty heavy... after a few blocks." The man lifted one hand, and
Haruka pulled him to his feet. He wasn't dressed in a business suit,
but his clothes did look rather expensive. It was a shame they were
ruined.
"Show me where this guy is." The tall blonde watched as the
strange man walked off into the shadows. Just because things seemed to
be on the level so far, it didn't mean that this wasn't something to
be suspicious of. That bad feeling which had bothering her all day
began to tickle the hairs on the back of her neck again.
Nearly at their front door, another man lay face down in the
muck. With growing trepidation, Haruka reached out and rolled the
man onto his back. He was wearing hakama and had a torn shirt wrapped
around him as a bandage. The fabric was stained through with blood, and
his skin was so pale that the angry red scar on his cheek seemed to
glow by comparison. Haruka leaned back slightly, and looked a little
closer at the familiar figure. It was that scar, that distinct
cross-shaped mark, that triggered the recognition in her mind.
"Anubis of the Masho? What on Earth is he doing... ON Earth?"
The last time she had seen him, Anubis had been a devoted soldier of
his Empress Kayura, to the point where he nearly killed Haruka and
Hotaru both. It had all been a huge mistake on everyone's part, and
they had parted as - well, if not friends, then at least not enemies,
either. How, months later, could his beaten body have washed up on
her doorstep?
**********
"Entirely by accident, I assure you," Rajura explained several
minutes later as he leaned back in his chair and took a brief sip
from the china teacup he held cradled in his grasp. Without realising
it, he carefully turned the cup in his hands before setting it back
down. "You Sailor Senshi were the last people we had ever expected-or
hoped-to see, no offense intended."
"None taken," Haruka said with a smirk from her position in the
corner of the room. "We weren't exactly counting the days until we
could see YOU again, either. Now, what's going on? You say you're
looking for Naaza? Why?"
"No big deal," Rajura said quickly, interuppting Anubis' own
attempt to answer the question. "We simply thought it was about time
he started heading home. He's been gone a while, and there's some...
work... piling up that he really should be helping us take care of."
Anubis made a low noise in his throat from his prone position
on the couch, where Hotaru was running her hands over his injury.
Rajura responded with a silent glare, pursing his lips slightly and
lifting his eyebrows. Michiru observed the entire exchange with quiet
interest, calmly drinking from her teacup.
"I'm afraid," she said at length, "that you just missed Naaza.
He was here last night ; he dropped by with Seiji Date, and spent a
few hours talking to Nasuti while Hotaru and Jun watched a movie
upstairs. I believe the three of them left together."
With a gruff chuckle, Anubis reached over and patted Hotaru
on the cheek. "You've done a fine job," he commented to the girl with
a wolfish grin. "Naaza himself hasn't patched me up better." With
returning vigour, he began to lever himself off of the couch.
"If that's all," Rajura said brusquely, "we shall thank you
kindly for your assistance, and be on our way. Good day to you,
ladies." Bowing slightly at the waist, he stood from his seat and began
to walk towards the door.
"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Michiru said as she nodded her head
in Haruka's direction. Like a wraith, the blone woman seemed to flow
along the wall and materialise in front of the door, arms crossed.
"You see," the Senshi of Neptune continued, "what kind of hosts would
we be if you sent you back out into that storm? Please, at least stay
with us until the worst of it is over."
Rajura made a face. "We appreciate your hospitality, but we
really do need to be leaving now. We have to find our friend in the
next-" he checked his watch. "One hour and fifteen minutes."
"At least," Michiru countered, "until your clothes are dry.
Surely that isn't so very long to hold your search, if you don't know
where to look?"
With a dangerously suspicious look in his eye, Rajura nodded
silently. "Excellent," Michiru concluded with a serene smile. "If
you'll excuse me, we seem to be getting low on tea. Haruka, could you
join me in the kitchen?"
**********
"I'm not the best at mathematics," Michiru whispered to her
partner as she refilled the kettle, "but I can tell when things don't
add up. Something about this situation smells strange."
"If by 'something', you mean 'everything', then I agree."
Haruka hopped up onto the counter and braced herself with her arms,
legs crossed at the ankles and swinging idly. "My common sense is
tingling, Michi. Something reeks."
The Senshi of Neptune shook back her long mane of sea-green
hair and blinked as she carefully added the tea leaves to the boiling
water. "There's too many questions," she agreed, "like : why would
Kayura send two of her most powerful warriors just to tell somebody
they were late for work?"
"Yeah, and why send somebody as seriously wounded as Anubis?
He's one of the best warriors I've met, and I don't believe he could
be injured that badly by accident." Haruka glanced back at the living
room, where Hotaru and Anubis were chatting quietly under Rajura's
stern gaze. "And did you see the way Rajura never let Anubis get a word
in edgewise? Almost like he was afraid the guy'd let something slip..."
"He's in far too much of a hurry for this to be 'no big deal',
too. Did you notice the way he was so insistent on leaving? When Naaza
was here, he acted as though he had all the time in the world. Not the
way I'd expect someone to behave if they had urgent business at home."
Michiru carefully poured the tea from the kettle into a teapot.
"So something came up while he was gone." Haruka's eyes
narrowed as she slowly lowered herself back to the ground from her
perch on the countertop. "Something they're not willing to tell us
about."
"So we're agreed?" Michiru asked as she lifted the teapot and
took a step back towards the door. "The Masho don't leave here until
we know for certain what they're up to?"
"Unless," Haruka cautioned, "it's none of our business. We got
in a lot of trouble with these guys the last time we went poking
around where we weren't wanted. I'm not too eager to jump back in the
shark tank without a good reason."
**********
Pedri's expression was one of extreme distaste as he let the
whip drop from his slackened grasp. Idly, he whistled a tune he
couldn't quite remember as he tugged the sodden black gauntlets from
his hands and dropped them on the slick tile with the weapon he had
discarded. He rubbed his bare hands together and primly smoothed the
creases from his crimson uniform jacket, adjusting his gleaming
rows of silver medals back into their proper arrangement.
Lifting one arm, he summoned his chair to him and sat, propping
his feet up and leaning back in the chrome frame as he opened a small
drawer in its side. Reaching in, he drew a fresh pair of ebony gloves
and pulled them on, the leather squeaking in protest as he flexed
his fingers. Reaching into a similar drawer located on the other side,
he retrieved a golden cigarette case and opened it.
The man gave a resigned sigh and pulled one cigarette free
from its brothers. Twirling the unlit cylinder in his fingers, Pedri
donned a small headset, hooking the device around his ears. A slim
microphone rested against his jawline as he activated it and began
speaking.
"Tuls? This is Pedri."
"But of course it is, baby," a sultry voice in his earpiece
replied. "Nobody else has my number..."
A smile tugged at his lips as the dark haired man adjusted his
position in the chair and threw his long grey cape over his shoulder
and out of his way. "I wish I could believe you, Tuls, I really do.
Do you have any further information from the ground troops?"
"Well, that depends," Tuls purred. "What are you wearing?"
Pedri scowled and began tapping his cigarette case against the
armrest of his chair in irritation. "I'm here to talk business, Tuls.
Stop the games and give me what I want."
Tuls' sigh reverberated over the earphones as she relented.
"Fine, fine. We've been scanning every part of the youjakai for these
Masho guys you're so worried about, but we're turning up nothing.
There's a couple of energy spikes over in the ningenkai..."
"The Earth Realm?" Pedri set down the cigarette case and laced
his fingers together, leaning forward slightly. "Do any match the
mystic energy we sensed from Empress Kayura?"
"You mean that hot little number in the black armour? Let me
check that, boss. Keep your pants on -or not, if you prefer." Tuls
hummed to herself for a few seconds, and Pedri lifted the cigarette he
had chosen, holding it at arm's length from him. With a flash of light,
the end of the paper tube burst to life, a small tendril of smoke
rising from its charred tip.
"We're good to go, love. Six close matches, but all pretty
low level. I'd guess they're either not as strong as the babe, or
not using their power to its full ability. One of them is nearly a
dead ringer for her. Stronger than the other five, too."
Pedri slowly dragged on the cigarette, its tip glowing orange
as he contemplated his strategy. "Send a squadron of our troops to
check it out."
"That Empress of yours took out nearly a division before we
finally got her, hon. Shouldn't you be a little more careful? Send
Erdge!"
Pedri's footstool quivered, and began to groan as she tried to
climb to her feet. Casually, he lifted his boot high and brought it
crashing down on the base of her skull. There was a loud crack, and
she slumped back onto the floor. "I'm afraid Erdge is out at the
moment," he reported pleasantly. "Oh, and that reminds me... could you
send someone to mop the floor in the command room? I'm afraid there's
a dreadful mess up here."
"Love, love." Tuls clucked her tongue. "Wasting all that
sadism on someone like Erdge? She'll never appreciate it, you know. At
least tell me you've got it on tape..."
"Just send the damned squadron, Tuls." Pedri turned off his
headset and yanked it free of his cranium. Taking another long pull
on his cigarette, the man looked over at the glowing crystal tube
sitting nearby. Within it, a beautiful woman floated naked in a sea
of burbling gel.
"These Masho," he said, watching the smoke pour from his mouth
and writhe in intricate patterns around him, "they may prove difficult,
Mother." He paused, and took another drag on the butt clenched between
his fingers. "Well, yes," he agreed, nodding, "I do concur that they
should be dealt with. Yes, expediently is best. Of course, Mother,
I would never doubt you. It's just..." He sighed. "Yes, Mother. You do
know best. We'll find them." Holding the burning cigarette before him
again, he let it fall from his grasp and tumble into his palm.
"And when we do," he hissed softly as he closed his hand into
a fist, "thy will... shall be done."
**********
TO BE CONTINUED...