The Turn: Chapter Sixteen

The Turn

Chapter Sixteen

~Mission Impossible – Part Two~

Two Years before the Turn

Zara looked around. If the assassins were to be aborting their original plan with the waiter on the balcony, it was almost impossible to tell what they might do next. She clapped absent mindedly as the President ended his speech and was thanking those who attended. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement.

One of the other waiters was walking toward the stage where the president sat. Zara gripped onto her butter knife as she watched him closely. He wasn’t carrying a tray so he wasn’t going to any tables. The waiter rubbed his pant leg nervously. He reached back and pulled out a gun and aimed it ahead at the President.

Zara stood up and threw the knife hitting the man in the shoulder blade. He dropped the gun and fell to the ground gripping his injured shoulder. The whole room gasped. All their eyes were on the man in the center of the room. The President stepped a few steps back in shock.

An officer, the officer in charge of the left side of the stage, walked up on stage toward the President, “Are you alright, Mr. President?”

The waiter grabbed the dropped gun with his uninjured hand. A shot rang through the air and struck the man in the other arm. Naru reloaded the gun and readied the weapon to fire. He figured he had a few more minutes before the place was swarmed with cops. When the officer walked up on the stage, his eyes fell on the officers hand radio. The officer had a radio and the ability to overlook a few weapons entering the facility. He aimed his weapon near the stage.

The officer saw the second failed attempt. He looked at the President as he crouched, hands over head. The officer reached for his weapon and aimed it at the President himself. The President looked up at him. His eyes grew wide with realization.

Deontay, on the other side of the stage, stepped onto the stage and reached for his gun. Vicky grabbed the tray she was holding and threw it at the officer’s leg like a discus. Just as the officer fell, Deontay walked up and kicked the dropped gun out of the way. His own weapon was aimed at the officer. The officer reached for his hidden weapon on his uncle. A shot went off from the third balcony.

Naru brought out a handkerchief from his pocket and whipped down the borrowed weapon. He heard someone running up the steps. Another waiter ran up the steps and looked around. He saw Naru and ran the other direction. There were some stairs that led to the roof. Naru placed down the gun and ran to the man he had knocked out before.

“Someone is headed your way,” Naru said to his sister.

“Time to disappear,” Zara said. She returned to her accent and screamed, “Zere he is! In ze balcony! Run!”

Mass panic erupted. Both Chaud and Zara ran toward the entrance. She darted down one hallway and he ran down another. Zara pulled her dress over her head revealing simple black clothing. She wrapped it around her waist like a decorative belt. Zara made it to a window and opened it. She walked out into the alley and started walking casually walking away.

Hina turned around as the door opened. The waiter stopped short when he saw her. She thrust out her hand and he hit the bottom of the stair well and was out cold. There were noises in the lower floor and Hina ran to the edge of the building. She pumped over the edge and gripped onto the ledge. There was a window below her and she stepped onto the small space above it and kept herself hidden from prying eyes.

Vicky ran out into the alley and nearly bumped into the truck there. She opened the truck and started to hot wire it. Naru came out shortly after with the man he knocked out over his arm. He dragged him to the back of the truck and climbed in. Hina made her way down and also entered the truck. The doors closed, the truck started and it drove away in the chaos.

Zara walked on the sidewalk casually looking behind her with a curious look on her face. A red convertible drove up alongside her. Chaud looked up at her over his sunglasses. He wore a sleeveless shirt and black jeans. Zara rolled her eyes, opened the door and got in. Together they drove away.

Police cars drove up from nearly every direction. Deontay walked out of the building still in his police uniform. He walked to one of the cop cars and got in. After flipping on the sirens he drove off.

IOIOIOIOI

Galaxy watched their hostage sweat in the dark room. He stood in the adjoining room looking through a one way window. Galaxy looked into a file quickly and read the content quickly. Over the year, there had been strange things going on that all seemed to be connected in some way. Galaxy didn’t know exactly how they fit together and that was what he didn’t like.

The door opened and Kaiba walked in. He looked into the other room and handed his father another file.

“Do you want me to interrogate him?” Kaiba asked.

“No, I think I’ll do it this time,” Galaxy smiled.

Kaiba looked up at him, “You want to do it?”

“I want answers,” Galaxy took the folder and walked into the room.

The man looked up at Galaxy as he entered. He looked back down at the table as Galaxy sat down.

“Hello,” Galaxy smiled at the man, “Do you need anything?”

The man shook his head. Then he opened his mouth as if changing his mind, “Maybe a glass of water…”

“We’ll see if we can do something about that,” Galaxy glanced at the mirror to his right. On the other side, Kaiba walked out to get some water. Galaxy looked at the man again, “Let’s get this started, shall we?”

The man shifted uncomfortably as Galaxy fingered slowly through the decently sized file.

“What do you need with kirilium?” Galaxy asked, “There was a robbery a year ago where the thieves stole quite a bit of kirilium. It wasn’t sold on the black market or sold in a private sale. So the question is where is the metal now and what are you going to do with it?”

The man didn’t say a thing.

“A few months later,” Galaxy continued, “there was a large heist in Texas. No one knows it quite yet but once someone starts crunching numbers they will find hundreds of thousands of dollars are missing. What do you need all that money for?”

The man shook his head, refusing to answer.

“Gas prices have skyrocketed in recent months,” Galaxy stated, “It’s even starting to affect us here on out little island. Saudi Arabia seems to be missing several truck loads worth of oil. Over a few months the Saudi Arabian government has lost over thirty trucks. They haven’t shown up anywhere. There are an awful lot of things missing, you see. It makes me feel uneasy.”

The man avoided Galaxy’s gaze.

“There are a lot of other things missing too that seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth. Care to enlighten us on where they went?”

Kaiba walked in just then. He walked to his father’s side, the glass of water in his hand, and waited. Galaxy nodded and Kaiba handed the glass to the man who took it and drank.

“Let’s try a different approach,” Galaxy looked at the man, “You tell me what you want to tell me. I’m sure there’s a part of you that wants to boast about all that you’ve done. You don’t have to say much. Just a useful sentence would be fine. Monologue if you must.”

Galaxy sat in silence as the man sat looking at his fingers. He waited patiently. Kaiba too stood in silence. Silence was a crippling weapon. People in general were afraid of silence because it gave them time to think and depending on what there was to think about some people would spill everything to avoid silence.

“The New Order…” the man muttered.

“I’m sorry?” Galaxy suddenly couldn’t hear. Unfortunately the man said no more. Galaxy pulled together all his things and walked out, Kaiba on his heels.

“What do you want me to do?” Kaiba asked sensing the wheels starting to turn behind his father’s eyes.

“I don’t know yet,” Galaxy said as he walked down a hallway. He stopped suddenly, “Actually, I think I’ll have you look up all you can about what he said.”

“The New Order?” Kaiba raised an eyebrow, “Sounds like a cult.”

Galaxy smiled, “You never know, son. The only thing more dangerous than a cult is a cult with 5000 tons of ammo.”

Kaiba shrugged, “I guess.”

“Stop guessing and get to work,” Galaxy continued walking back to his office.

IOIOIOIOI

Scar walked out of the police station after hours of interrogation. His normally cheery attitude had dampened a little from the intense questioning. He looked relieved as he walked down the steps and saw his driver. The driver stood in front of a limo waiting for his master to come out. He barely smiled as Scar threw his arms around the man.

“Oh! Driver! That was the most frightening thing I’ve ever had to go through! That officer was mean!”

The driver opened one of the doors, “He’s merely doing his job.”

Scar entered the car, “But still! It was as if he were accusing me of setting the whole thing up!”

A dark smile crept across the driver’s face, “Didn’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Scar thought a moment, “but he has no proof!”

The driver closed the door and entered the driver’s side. He pulled away from the curb and drove, “It didn’t happen like we planned, did it.”

“What was your first clue?” Scar said sarcastically.

“Remember when I told you about that secret organization?” the driver stated, “The one called the Tower?”

Scar nodded.

“Well, luckily for you, you got to see their handwork,” the driver pointed out, “I told you they could pose a problem.”

“What do you suggest?” Scar sat up straighter in his seat.

“We’ll have to get rid of them, of course,” said the driver after he made a left turn.

Scar almost laughed, “An entire organization? Just take them out? Are you insane?”

The driver continued as if he wasn’t interrupted, “We still need supplies. So what I think we should do is to do things as we’ve always done. When we send people out for a supply run, we’ll just make sure to send out another group to deal with the pesky Tower when they come.”

“Won’t the Tower need to know where we’ll hit next?” Scar asked.

The driver rolled his eyes, “I’m sure they have their sources. No reason in putting the New Order in jeopardy.”

“Right,” Scar leaned back in his seat, “I knew that.”

“Idiot,” the driver muttered under his breath.

The Turn: Chapter Fifteen

The Turn

Chapter Fifteen

~Mission Impossible – Part One~

Two Years before the Turn

An expensive restaurant in New York City was open with all its glitz and glamor. Politicians and people with generally too much money drove up in their black limos to the current Presidents fundraising dinner. News camera’s gathered around a type of red carpet of political who’s who.

The venue was just getting started and a van pulled around into the back alley. Out walked the waiters who would be serving the politicians that evening. A girl with her hair in a ponytail walked out rubbing her eyes helplessly. Apparently her contacts weren’t exactly being friendly to her at the moment. A boy with long black hair also walked out of the back of the van with some others. His hair was also in a ponytail. He grabbed a bag from the van and followed the other waiters into the building. The girl followed slowly, rubbing her eyes.

They walked into a side entrance where they were met with on duty police officers. There were four tables with a police officer at each. An officer with African American decent motioned the boy with the bag over. He opened the bag and looked inside. The officer was noticeably young but looked like he could hold his own. When he finished looking inside, he handed the bag back. After giving the boy a quick pat down, he allowed the boy to proceed.

The boy walked into a small changing room to get into his uniform. He placed the bag into a locker and walked out into the kitchen for the ‘motivational’ instructions from the restaurant owner.

In the front, a limo drove up. Instantly the cameras were on flash. An aggressive photographer pushed her way forward. She wasn’t afraid to elbow the nearest camera man. She managed to get in front of everyone and started her camera on stream. A boy in a standard suit stepped out of the limo and helped out a woman in a beautiful black sparkling form fitting dressed. Even as no one seemed to know who they were they were very photogenic together so on the flashes went. It was assumed that they were the children of some ambassador or congressman who was invited.

When the two went into the building the aggressive photographer was pushed back as a congressman pulled up. She ended up at the back of the school of piranhas. She didn’t seem to mind though. She walked around into an alley and fiddled with her camera as if it wasn’t working properly. As if to test if it was working, she aimed the camera into the sky. Something shot out of the lens at attached itself to the wall near the flat roof.

She unconnected her cameras lens and attached it to her belt. She pulled on the string and rose easily up the wall. She climbed over onto the roof. There was a police officer on the far end. She got to her feet and ran behind him. She swung her leg at his feet. He fell to the ground and she hit him in the neck, knocking him out. She tied his hands behind his back and stood, detaching a pair of binoculars from her belt and using them to look around.

The couple inside stood in line as they were seated. The girl fiddled anxiously with her purse.

“Chaud,” she said, her lips not moving apart from a smile.

“What?” again, his lips didn’t move.

“Are you sure you thought of everything?”

“I told you,” he sighed, “You plan, I make things happen. I went through this whole thing backwards and forwards. We’ll be fine.”

“What are our reservation names?” Zara asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chaud muttered.

The seating attendant looked up at them, “Next!”

The two walked forward.

“Names?” she asked.

“We’re part of the Holtinger party,” Chaud stated.

“The senator?” the girl asked.

“Of course the senator! What are you? Stupid?”

“No, sir,” she muttered, “are you Cale, sir?”

“Yes, I am,” he looked to Zara, “I mean I’ve only been in Russia for two months and they’ve already almost forgotten about me!”

Zara rolled her eyes, “Da, darling. Porheps vi should go somevere else vere vi are more appreciated,” she said in a thick Russian accent.

They turned to leave when the girl tired her best to change the situation, “Please! Pardon my rudeness! I can get you seated right away!”

Chaud shrugged, “Well I guess we can stay.”

The girl led them to their table.

“Oh, and don’t tell my father we’re here,” Chaud said as she was about to leave, “He doesn’t know I’m back stateside yet. This will be a surprise…if you can keep your mouth shut.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as she walked away.

“That was mean,” Zara muttered, dropping the accent.

Chaud shrugged, “How else do you expect spoiled little senator sons to act?”

“Mean I guess,” Zara answered.

“Hello,” a waiter walked up, “My name is Nelson and I’ll be your waiter this evening. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Chaud looked up at the waiter. The waiter’s hair was down now from the ponytail before. He held a large round tray in front of his body. Chaud looked at his Asian appearance.

“Nelson…right…we’ll just have water,” Chaud stated.

“Right,” ‘Nelson’ said as he walked back into the kitchen.

Zara looked over at Chaud, “Nelson?”

“He was the only one I could food poison in time with my limited planning time. I had two days of surveillance and one day to get everything put together. Nelson just happened to eat at a hot dog stand where may not have cooked it quite right…”

“You’re evil.”

“All in three days' work,” Chaud smiled, “besides its food poisoning, he’ll be fine!”

Nelson, otherwise known as Naru, returned with their drinks, “May I take your order?”

“What do you have?” Chaud asked, not even bothering to look at the menu.

“We have a three course meal—”

“Three courses? Didn’t realize the President was a cheapskate…” Chaud muttered.

“Da, vat a shame,” Zara stated.

“For the appetizer we have either a soup or salad—”

“That soups?” Chaud asked.

“Chicken or tomato—”

“Do you have, Olivier Salad, traditional to my homeland Russia?”

“No—”

“What is this chicken soup?” Chaud complained, “Is there someone sick here? Do we look sick to you?”

“Vat salads do you have zen?”

“I don’t really want the tomato soup, either.”

“Vi should have gone someplace else. Porheps somevere that serves Olivier Salad.”

“The President wants out money with this crappy food?”

“I—”

Naru interrupted, “I think I’ll let you look at the menu. I’ll be back.”

There was silence at the table after Naru left. Zara saw Victoria, known as Jane here, as she waited a table few tables down. The people at the table seemed to be treating her fairly nicely.

Zara leaned into Chaud and whispered, “That was kind of fun. Mean, but fun.”

“It comes kind of naturally when you're rich,” Chaud nodded.

“You don’t act that way,” Zara observed.

“Because you’d hit me in the head several times a day,” he said as he grabbed the menu off the table.

“Don’t I already do that?”

“I’m trying to keep it at less than 30 times a day.”

Zara raised her eyebrow, “That’s not several?”

“I have the feeling that you’re just getting started.”

Four more people came to their table including Mr. and Mrs. Holtinger. Because they were not told who they were, Chaud and Zara became Greg and Olga Wilson. Zara kept herself from hitting Chaud for introducing her as an Olga. Apparently they were stepbrother and sister, Olga being their father’s wife’s daughter from Russia. It also seemed apparent that Chaud could spout bull crap whenever he needed to. Nelson returned and introduced himself again and asked for orders. Fortunately, the Wilson siblings got their orders straightened out.

The officer finished at his post and continued back stage to prepare the area for the President’s speech.

“Hey, Johnson, you think you’re ready for this?” another officer asked.

Johnson, AKA Deontay, smiled that good hearted smile, “I was born ready, sir!”

“We’re not expecting anything but you can’t be too careful these days,” the officer said.

“Too true,” Johnsons said in a manner that seemed to indicate the other officer was speaking a little too close to the truth.

The other officer shrugged it off, “Let’s begin the inspection.”

Hina on the roof looked down at the coming people. A limo drove up and a man with blond hair stepped out. He didn’t seem too much of a threat, other than his excessive happy-go-luckiness.

Zara was eating her Cesar Salad as she looked carefully around. She saw the man come in and was seated.

“Dragon to panther, come in panther,” Hina’s voice rang in Hina’s ear.

“Greg, vat do you call dis in America?” she pointed at one of the hard bread pieces.

“Croutons,” Chaud answered casually.

“Da, croutons,” Zara stated.

“Is that a yes, you read me?” Hina asked.

“Da, they are very good.”

“I’m gonna tell you what I noticed anyway, okay?” Hina stated, still unsure what exactly was going on, “We’ll I haven’t seen any one with guns blazing in through the front door.”

“Good, very good,” Zara answered.

“And I have seen anything out of the ordinary; they may already be on the inside.”

“But it seems the leafy greens are a little bitter.”

Hina sighed, “I’ll take that as a ‘keep looking’. Over and out.”

“It’s what you get for eating a Cesar Salad in the middle of winter in New York,” Chaud mumbled.

Zara started looking at people more closely. There was a round of applause as the President walked in. People stood to their feet as the music played. When they sat down their entrees were served and the President started his speech. Zara continued to look around. The person with the most access it seemed were the waiters who could go around as they pleased. The audience started laughing at one of the Presidents efforts at a joke. Zara laughed half-heartedly as she looked around at the waiters. While most of the waiters, including Nelson and Jane, had the fakest of smiles on their faces as they served their ‘greater than thou’ guests there were some who seemed to be concentrating on something else. One seemed to be looking at his watch frequently.

“Excuse me,” Zara said as she stood up and walked to the bathroom. When inside, she entered a stall, lowered the toilet seat cover and sat down, “Alright can everyone hear me? I think the assassins came in the same route that we did, as waiters. So that means they must have a cop in their band or they wouldn’t be able to sneak anything in. Keep an eye out.”

She heard someone coming into the bathroom. Zara stood and flushed the toilet and lifted the seat cover. She walked out and washed her hands. A woman walked in to touch up her makeup, Zara decided that wouldn’t be such a bad thing to do as well. She reached into her purse for a tube of lipstick and began applying.

Their mission, assigned by the Tower, was to prevent an assassination by making it an assassination attempt. Assassinations were generally prevented by the Tower for several common sense reasons but this one seemed more important somehow. Over the past year, Zara and her team had had several missions that seemed quite out of the blue. But there was something nagging at her that they might be connected. She assumed that the Tower was trying to connect the dots as well. That was why on this specific mission, they were to bring back one of the assassins. Zara smacked her lips together before walking out of the bathroom.

The President was nearing the end of his speech. She knew that if the assassins were going to act it would be soon. It was time to get everyone in position. She sat at her table and ate some of her food. Just about then, Naru came by.

“Vaiter? Could you take zis back to your kitchen? Ze pasta isn’t, how you say, cooked very vell,” Zara raised her plate.

Naru took the plate and bowed apologetically, “I’m sorry, Ms. I’ll have the chef make you a new plate.”

“Don’t bother,” Zara waved her hand as if she was insulted, “I’ll vait for ze desert.”

Naru went back into the kitchen. He dumped the plate, food and all, into the nearest garbage can. After that, he made his way casually to his locker. He grabbed the bag and started out again. He walked casually as he kept to the back of the room. After Zara’s warning, his eyes scanned the floor for anything unusual.

“Um, waiter?” an old man asked at a table.

Naru stopped and plaster a smile in his face, “May I help you?”

“Our waiter,” the old mad stated, “He hasn’t been serving us very well tonight. We asked for refills on out water, but we haven’t got it yet. It’s been a long while, too. Would you mind getting us some?”

Naru thought a moment. The old man seemed nice enough but he had work to do, “I would but this isn’t my table. I’d get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out. I’m sure your waiter will be around shortly.”

“Hmm!” the younger woman beside the old man crossed her arms, “I doubt he’ll be down those steps anytime soon!”

“He went upstairs?” Naru asked.

The old man seemed apologetic, “Yes, he went up those stairs and hasn’t come back down.”

Naru smiled, “I’ll go see if I can find him.”

“Thank you so much, young man,” the old man nodded.

Naru continued on his way. He walked up the stairs to the first balcony. He walked past the second floor diner to more stairs that were secretly behind a red curtain. The stairs led up to a third floor used mostly for changing the lighting and such.

“I think I found one of the waiters,” Naru sighed into his ear piece.

“Make sure you keep him alive, bro, unlike the guy in Rio!” Hina shouted.

Naru rolled his eyes, “Why won’t anyone believe when I say he fell off the building. I didn’t kill him. He tripped over his feet. Honestly, the clumsiest person I’ve ever met.”

Naru made his way up the stairs. He was light in his feet, even the floor boards didn’t make much of a sound. On the third floor, he walked to a balcony. At the angle he was sanding, the stage was at a horrible angle. He looked around carefully then saw what he was looking for. There was a man with a sniper rifle propped on the railing. After setting down his back, he made his way quietly to the man.

Naru was nearly behind him when he turned around suddenly. The man tried to turn the gun on him but was unsuccessful. Naru grabbed the gun and took it away easily. He used the butt of the gun to crush the man’s left foot. The man opened his mouth to shout in pain but Naru released his grip on the weapon and placed one hand firmly on his mouth and his other arm around his neck. Naru waited as the man struggled for about five more seconds until the man was out cold. Slowly, Naru released the man’s neck as he slumped over. He stood up and picked up the riffle. He propped the weapon on the railing after detaching the scope and tossing it to the side. Naru never used a scope and his accuracy was the best in the Tower.

“I’m in position,” Naru stated casually.

The crowd clapped enthusiastically as the President neared the end of his speech.

“Good, good,” Zara said as she clapped. It was a dual meaning as she talked to Naru.

“zzz…Nathan, what are you doing?...zzz…Nathan?...zzz…”

Naru heard a short distance radio go off. He looked around the room below, unable to find the person on the other end. He thought of who would naturally have a radio.

“In conclusion,” the President began wrapping up his speech.

“It’s almost finished?” Zara leaned into Chaud as she asked. Chaud nodded in response.

“Johnson!” the officer came up behind Deontay. Deontay turned around and smiled.

“Yeah?”

“You go around the other side. I got this one,” he smiled and sent Deontay on his way.

Vicky was in the middle of serving her table.

“…zzz…move to plan B…zzz…”

“Their changing plans,” Naru reported.