Chapter XXXV: Tokyo Nights
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1700 HOURS
UNITED NATIONS SPECIAL DISASTER RELIEF ZONE
TOKYO, JAPAN
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From the moment she met him, Lisa knew she didn’t like Mr. M. The good feeling she’d been riding after returning to the Illustrious following a long overdue exercise of her trigger finger hadn’t lasted long thanks to two things: the news of the sheer scale of the devastation in Dusseldorf, and the arrival of the lanky, gray-suited man that now sat beside and above them. It wasn’t anything to do with Mr. M in particular. He didn’t come off as a typical G-Man, all business and robotic reaction. He also didn’t come off as a spook. At least, not entirely…wait, that was it!
There was one thing about him that reminded her of a spook, and it was the eyes. He carried himself like any other man but for the eyes. It was like those cold, green eyes were laughing at you, like he knew something you didn’t and just wanted to lord it over you. Under any other circumstance, Lisa might have almost tricked herself into buddying up with Mr. M, maybe laughing about his ridiculous codename over a few drinks together with the others, if only it wasn’t for those laughing eyes.
And of course, it wasn’t just that. There hadn’t been much drinking done in the small cafeteria the UNCDI team had been given, barring the flash Anton kept sipping from. Still, that didn’t keep Felipe from trying to stare the old Russian to death from wherever he stood whenever the pair were in the same room together, and that in turn led to Anton rapidly excusing himself whenever Felipe made an appearance. Or just taking a few extra sips from that damned flask.
Lisa sighed. Between their new babysitter and whatever the hell happened between her teammates while everyone else was gone, tensions had been rising on the ship. The previous days as they made full steam towards Tokyo had been so filled with anxious energy that she’d taken to hiding herself in her cabin, or strolling the deck where sailors could ogle her ass, anything to get away from the others.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. This was so fucked up! Here they were, in the partially-rebuilt ruins of Tokyo, surrounded by UN tank convoys and food lines, in a city overflowing with Newfoal refugees, on the verge of a visitation by a possibly-genocidal demigod, and she almost felt like she was on a vacation! Anything that got her away from the heavy atmosphere below the decks of the Illustrious felt like it could be a vacation! They were supposed to be on their A-game, dammit! They were supposed to control a situation involving a horse goddess and a million civilians out for blood! How were they supposed to handle any of that if half of them could barely stand to be in the same room!?
“Thinking about our new babysitter?”
Lisa smiled at the voice. The one thing that hadn’t changed, at least, was David. In typical American form, he’d apparently remained oblivious to whatever had lodged a small forest up the others’ asses, and had managed to even join her on one or two sunset walks along the deck. He’d even worked up the stones to ask her out once they made landfall! Sure, the date destinations in a place like Tokyo were limited, but the fact that he’d gotten the guts to try again sure as hell went pretty far with her.
“Actually, no,” she said, taking David’s offered hand and hoisting herself up off their bench. “Our teammates, truth be told, if you can even call them that anymore.”
He nodded. “You felt that too, huh?”
“Felt it!? You could see it from space!” She enthused with a roll of her eyes. “The Great Wall of China was built with more subtlety in mind!”
He nodded again. “I agree.” Oh good, obviously he was experienced with keeping a girl happy. “I dunno what happened with the others, but Jesus, it’s like Thanksgiving at my aunt’s house every day in there. The one who divorced the uncle for touching my cousins but still lets the bastard show up drunk every year.”
She beamed at that. “A wonderfully dysfunctional family,” Lisa cooed, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice to find someone you have so much in common with.”
“At least they got him to stop playing Santa ‘round Christmas,” he sighed with a shiver. “Not sure how other families do it, but I’m damn sure Santa isn’t supposed to ask you to talk about the first thing that pops up when he gets you on his lap.”
She giggled at that, letting the comment hang alongside her breath, visible in the cool air. Seeing that, she could almost trick herself into believing they were anywhere else, maybe even back in London. That the noodle vendor down the way didn’t have his shop setup in front of the scorched ruins of his old building. That the elderly couple leaning against each other on the bench next to them had all their fingers, and skin that hadn’t been horrifically scarred by solar blasts. That the kids having a snowball fight beneath the light of a flickering streetlamp weren’t all blind, and that they all had warm homes to go to and not drafty UN-supplied canvas tents. She could gaze over at his face, at that easygoing gaze he had looking out into the darkening Tokyo evening, and just enjoy what she was getting more comfortable with calling a date.
Finally, as they turned a corner to take in a long column of refugees lining up to accept blankets from a group of men in Japanese uniforms, with the occasional light-blue UN, her grip loosened on David’s hand, and the light feeling in her breast dissipated. She gazed over to David, and was disappointed to see his shoulders sink. However, he did manage to soldier on admirably, turning to her with a smile and a light little laugh to his voice that almost didn’t sound forced.
“Well, looks like some people won’t be going cold tonight!” He said.
She suppressed a cringe and nodded. To her surprise, his smile faded. “Ugh...sorry, that sounded way more...cringey than I wanted it to.”
She blinked in surprise. “No, it was...um...nice...”
He deadpanned at her, clearing his throat.
“...it was like you were trying to ape a Hallmark card,” she said with a dry smile. “Don’t do that again, it’s not a good look for you.”
“I’ll try to resist, m’lady,” he said.
She was about to sock him one to the shoulder for channeling his inner neckbeard when something twinged in the corner of her eye. She looked up. A pale man looked back at her. His oval eyes hinted at least at some Asian descent, but his skin gave him away as having at least one white parent. She tried to scan over the line, keeping the man at least in her peripherals. Her mind, the part of her mind that had been trained to pick Taliban targets out of crowded markets in Kabul, then PER targets out of embassies back home, went into overdrive automatically. Was it the way he stared? That could be explained easily. She was a white woman in a land where those were still pretty rare, and maybe he was just gawking at the novelty of someone with a similar skin tone, and that was what set her off. She just didn’t like being gawked at is all, who did?
Was that it?
Maybe.
But maybe not.
“Dave, sweetie,” she said, tugging at his sleeve, fully intent on guiding him around the line to give the guy all the space she could, but Dave had stopped moving. She turned, looked up at his face, and realized something: the man hadn’t been staring at her. He’d been staring at David. The two were engaged in a staring contest that possessed all the subtlety of a sledgehammer through a plate-glass window.
She wanted to roll her eyes. Of course. Of course David had been too Alpha-male to let something like this go.
“David,” she said insistently. “Let’s keep moving, it’s just a creepy guy, c’mon.”
He turned to her, looking surprised that she’d even named what had distracted him so suddenly, then letting out his breath. He’d realized all at once how stupidly overt he’d just been. Still, he apparently couldn’t resist stealing another glance back at the man, and then his brow furrowed. His eyes scanned the line in a methodical way she might have found admirable in any other circumstance. Lisa turned, whipping around to run her eyes over the line. The man was gone. Where did he--
“REMEMBER DETROIT!”
A barrage of gunshots filled the air. Lisa whipped around to face the stand, in time to see the first uniformed body hit the ground in a mist of blood. And then the orderly line turned into a chaotic stampede so fast, she almost didn’t see the first panicked body in time to step aside, narrowly avoiding being bowled over. Doing that, she lost her grip on David’s hand, just as they were both inundated.
“David?!” She choked out as a hand whipped into her gut. She tried to peer over the tide of panicking, wailing people, only to earn an elbow to the ribs for her trouble. At last, the adrenaline kicked in and she weaved her way into a small pocket of empty space. A man with crooked glasses and a bloody nose clawed towards her, not paying attention as his flailing, panicking hand scratched into her cheek. Hissing, she swatted him away, then narrowly dodged a backhanded slap from a skinny little elderly woman. Another barrage of gunshots sounded, followed by more panicked cries. She automatically moved with the tide, knowing that to stop would mean getting dragged under and trampled. Shit. It was a crush. She was in the middle of a crush, and to stop would mean death under the soles of her fellow human beings.
“David!?” She called again, voice trembling with panic and hating herself for it. She knew it would be impossible for him to hear her over the constant shouts and cries around her. The voices of the mob filled the air, pushing out all other sound and drowning her words seemingly just a few inches after they left her mouth. She focused on keeping her eyes forward, fighting down the swirling rise of panic and staying on her feet with the crowd, stealing only the occasional glance around on the off-chance that she might see David…
There.
Holy shit, there he was!
David was only separated from her by a few people! His eyes were locked ahead too, but…something was wrong. Hold on, why was he doing that odd little limp-thing? Shit. He might have caught a bullet in the leg, or maybe twisted his ankle when the crowd hit them. Either way, he was barely keeping up, maybe one good shove would topple him over. And lo and behold, here came an overweight guy in a scruffy beard: his wide, panicking eyes focused behind him as he pumped his fat legs to move faster and put more distance between him and the shooter. The guy was coming right up on Dave, not even watching where he was going and maybe seconds from slamming into him.
Of course, she grumbled, adrenaline kicking into overdrive. Tensing her entire body, she pressed herself off of one foot, bursting to the side in an explosive bout of energy aimed at the gap between two people. In a moment she was at Dave’s side. Grabbing his sleeve, she forced him sideways, dodging the panicking asshole while bracing her shoulder to take his weight.
“Jesus!” He gasped. She grinned. He’d gone from running alone to having a human crutch in no time at all. His eyes rolled around in a panic-bleary daze to lock on her. “Lisa!?”
“Eyes up, Yank!” She shouted.
Startled, he could only obey, moving with the crowd. Another burst of rounds echoed through the evening air, and the pace picked up. Somehow, she managed to muscle through, focusing all the strength in her smaller frame in keeping up the pace while still lending at least a little support to David. She was so focused on keeping her breath regular and her endurance up that she didn’t notice the line of riot shields waiting for them until she was nearly bouncing face-first off of them.
In a flash, Dave used their shared grip on one another’s shoulders to wrench her aside, putting himself between her and the shields while simultaneously cushioning the blow with his own body. He let out an ‘oof’ as they hit. A second later, he reversed their positions, cushioning her from the rest of the crowd as it crashed into the shields like a tidal wave against a levee.
“Jesus Christ…” Lisa muttered in sheer surprise, her face pressed against the shield.
“Shyeah,” Dave grimaced as a middle-aged office drone bounced off his shoulders, grunting with the effort. Fortunately, the point of the stampede had been dulled. The line of riot shields followed by the timely arrival of SWAT sweeping the square had somehow sapped the panic out of the crowd, which Lisa wondered at until a nightstick jabbed into the side of her ribcage, followed by a quick string of Japanese urging her away.
“Alright, alright!” She insisted, standing away, relieved when the crowd didn’t throw back against her like a tide. David was forced up as well, and he cringed with pain. The tide broken, the riot officers were now very keen on maintaining a certain amount of distance between themselves and the crowd.
“God above, that was fast,” David muttered, looking over the long line of black helmets and Kevlar armor. “Cops in this town must be quicker on the trigger than the LAPD.”
“They are when they are ordered to be.” A prim voice snapped in perfect English. Lisa suppressed a groan, a feat which David fell just short of accomplishing. A moment later, the line of police parted slightly, and another string of insistent Japanese urged the pair through the gap. A few of the more desperate refugees broke out with them: a bum with a blind, wild-eyed stare and a younger guy with all the fingers missing from one scarred hand, but the cops let them go, and Lisa lost sight of them as she turned to face the owner of the voice.
Mr. M stared back with those laughing eyes, the ones mocking her with something she didn’t know, dangling it in front of her like a mean-spirited kid holding a steak just out of reach of a chained dog. He regarded them with that empty smile on his pale, skinny face, a face that always seemed to have a sheen of sweat glistening on it, even now, despite the cold.
“Hey,” a new voice said. Lisa turned, blinking in shock. Anton gave her a sheepish smile, the old Russian crammed into a suit that bulged around his frame for how small it was. At his side, a certain, surly Brazilian nodded at her.
“Anton! Felipe,” she sighed. “It’s...good to see you.”
“Yeah, we were...worrying,” Anton said carefully, as though he might accidentally say the wrong word and a bomb standing near them would go off.
“Are you done with your walk now?” Felipe asked, his eyes wondering over the crowd, over the blood on the ground, anywhere but his fellow UN stooges.
“Yeah...” Dave sighed, looking himself over for any scratches. “Gotta get checked out anyway.” The hesitation in his voice was palpable: David knowing he needed to get back to their ship, but also knowing it meant a return to slammed doors, to watching Anton slink off to the cafeteria with his head down, and to having to put up with Felipe sulking in his room, all while the other diplomats did their best to pretend the others didn’t exist, pairing up in an apparently-random fashion.
It was so painful and awkward it made Lisa yearn for another family dinner. Even the kind David’s family no doubt had whenever that one uncle showed up already in his Santa costume and with a blood-alcohol content above the legal limit.
Sighing, her hand closed around his. “C’mon, Yank,” she whispered. “Let’s just go. Our little walk is over.”
He looked over her shoulder, gazing forlornly at the haggard, tired crowd of people now being searched by men in black Kevlar armor, then nodded. “Yeah. Not much to be done here anyway.”
As the couple turned away they, like everyone else in the square, failed to notice the pair of shadows racing along behind the smoldering, trampled-on remnants of the other stands, sticking to the dark corners of the square before making their way into an alley, lit only by a couple of flickering streetlamps for a second before rounding a corner and disappearing with the Tokyo crowds.
Things could always be worse. For some reason, James had forgotten that back in the States. He should have known he’d be pining for LA the moment the cargo ship he and his “army” were being smuggled on pulled into Tokyo Bay. Yet, he’d remained so blissfully unaware in the days after their departure from the States, only letting it hit him full force after he looked out over the railing and saw the burnt-out remnants of a skyscraper towering over a UN camp distributing MREs, all within view of one of those damned bullet trains that managed to survive the blast.
Suddenly, Los Angeles in flames didn’t seem so bad. Especially not after stepping out on the docks and immediately being inundated with dozens of grubby kids with their hands out.
The ones who’d still had hands, at least.
Now, trudging along through the hastily-rebuilt brickwork that formed most of Tokyo’s alleyways, he couldn’t help but feel some new sense of gained perspective. Even with the riots in LA, he’d never been more than a ten-minute walk from some real grub, and the skyscrapers at least still looked nice even with the cars burning at their bases. Here, there were entire districts that still didn’t have much to burn, and the skyscrapers served as little more than towering shantytowns for the displaced.
It was hardly any surprise, then, that when they landed his dad’s contacts had greeted them with not only open arms, but a few dozen handfuls of fresh recruits just chomping at the bit to prove themselves. Just like the one he was picking up now. Just like the one he knew was behind the gunshots and screams back in the marketplace, though some part of his mind revolted at the idea.
He sighed, leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes. He wished he’d brought his IPod, dammit, some Ace of Spades would go far in clearing his mind right now.
Feet crunched along gravel, walking rapidly. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was the guy he was meant to pick up. A man only walked that fast through a dingy place like this when they were trying to get away from something. He knew that walk well enough.
“You ditched the gun, right?” He asked, still without opening his eyes.
The footsteps stopped. James could hear the other guy’s breathing, almost hyperventilating, all keyed-up. The rush of what he’d just done...James wished he could say he didn’t know that feeling as well as that walk.
“’Course I did,” the other guy barked in a heavy Japanese accent. “I’m not stupid.”
“Wiped your prints first?”
“Didn’t have to,” there was a slight smacking sound: latex on skin. “Gloves, man.”
James nodded, pressed away from the wall, opened his eyes at last. The other man fell in step behind him without being told, and they walked down the alleyway, stomping out on the street. Outside, beat-up Toyotas merged with gleaming-new Bentleys and Hondas, a strange mixture flowing along the blackened streets. The pair pushed past a group of beggars and a street vendor that damn near shoved a handful of peach blossoms in their faces. James’s face didn’t change. Two blocks away, at least a dozen people had lost their lives. Back here, business as usual.
Same shit, different country.
He wondered absentmindedly when the local news circuit would start running news of the attack as the sidewalks grew narrower and less crowded, eventually giving way to a sea of buildings that looked like they’d been under construction for years. Scaffolding grew around him like a forest of plastic and metal.
He squeezed his way in through a couple of two-by-fours. Ignoring the rustling of feet stomping along above him, he kept up his pace, weaving through the maze of tarps as if it were already second nature, keeping his head low to avoid crossbars. He turned a corner, somebody appeared in his path, casually swinging down from an upper level before slipping off into the darkness behind one of the tarps. James paused for only a second before continuing on. The Old Man was waiting for him.
Deep in the heart of the scaffolding, he came out in an old warehouse, or so he guessed it to be based on the crates and cardboard boxes that served as tables and chairs. The Old Man was talking to their Japanese counterpart: a six-foot tower of muscle that seemed to defy every stereotype James had ever had about the Japanese. The man turned to him as he walked in, looking him over with one dark-brown eye, the other a milky white from the same radiation burns that left a deep red scar along the side of his face. Most other men would shiver. James just returned the look with his own thousand-yard stare.
Finally, the Old Man looked up. “Jimmy!” He shouted, stomping over with a broad smile bunching up the silver hair on his temples. Clamping a hand over his shoulder, the Old Man led James back over to the Japanese man. “Kaito, this here’s my boy, and my second in command. Been with me every step of the way, since the li’l twats took his ma.”
“Pleasure,” Kaito said, holding out a hand that could envelop a soda can.
“Yeah,” James said, shaking the hand while holding eye contact.
“He’s really been good with keeping the guys in line. Hell, he’s just got back from that field op you suggested,” the Old Man clapped James on the shoulder again, grinning like a dad at his kid’s high school graduation. “Speaking of…”
“Yeah, it went good dad,” James smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Riku ditched the gun after too, like we drilled into him.”
“Good, good,” the Old Man looked over James’s shoulder to grin at the Japanese man that had followed him back. “This was his trial by fire of sorts, good to know he can keep it together.”
“Are your…’trials’ through, then?” Kaito asked, those cold eyes thankfully passing over James to slide over the Old Man. “Are you satisfied that our men are capable?”
“Ayuh, Kaito.” The Old Man replied, the prideful beam still radiating off his face. “Hope ya didn’t mind, I just needed to make sure your boys knew their own asses from holes in the ground.”
“Then we are ready to proceed when the Princess arrives,” Kaito said plainly.
The Old Man’s smile widened as a deep, cold feeling in James’s gut twisted. “And damn good thing, too! Nothing but a buncha smurfs out there!” The Old Man spat. “Fuckers will probably welcome the cunt with open arms.”
“Then we will have a welcome of our own,” Kaito nodded. “My contacts in Equestria inform me they have what we need.”
“Ayuh?” The Old Man’s smile turned lower, like a stovetop burner being set from high to medium. James’s stomach gave another twist to see it. “Good, good. So when the inevitable happens and the bitch shows her true colors…”
“…We’ll be ready,” Kaito replied, extending a hand. “Together.”
“Together.” The Old Man gripped the hand and shook, glancing to James at his side.
James said nothing. He didn’t betray the sinking feeling in his gut. He just smiled and nodded, all he was good for. Smiled and nodded at the Old Man, even while he was wondering if it was too late to find a boat for New York or London.
Chicago, even?
Maybe.
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Another great chapter, but now I’ve gotta wait months for the next bit again.
Also, first.
9821672
Yeah.
Interesting, though i have ot agree, gonna be awhile before we see more
Noice chapter , now that I read this and see the publication date , I kinda understand why your change perspectives every chapter : Because they are so far appart from each other that one that follows the other would make the reader wonder what the fuck happened earlier XD ! (mostly joking btw , I know writting takes lots of time and I have multiple fics that I read at the same time so I don't really mind)
Also , is it me or this world has terrorist attacks every fucking Thuesday ? Because that like the third one since the start of the thing . I know some people would do terrorist attacks on newfoal thingies because those same newfoals probably killed their mother or something but wouldn't the majority of humankind be united or something after the Collision Wars ?
And why would they attack Humans and not newfoals or if they are batchat crazy the place where the hold Nazilestia (Xenolestia is a good name but I find this one better , don't judge me XD) if it's public knowledge , which I doubt tho ? The humans have no reason to be targeted by terrorist groups , especially if it's because of an attack that happened in the Collision Wars...
Sorry for the wall of text that is probably filled with BS and faults , I am bloody tired has I write this and I possibly missed some things.
Awesome chapter dude! This story always gets me on the edge of my seat. Xd
aw no twilight or celestia
Glad this is back. Can't wait for more.
Well... you did say the wrong word... It's worries, you know...
The sight of Tokyo is quite saddening. Very unfortunate, for Japan to have taken the brunt of evil Celestia's rage at the end.
Welp, at least they aleady have the experience of rebuilding their cities from the ground up because they were scorched to a wasteland by massive attacks, right?
Yeah, right.
Also, about this shady organization "preparing" for a second contact war, I hate to admit it, but I can understand going to these lengths after your first contact with an alien species results in deception, betrayal, the loss of countless lives, and destruction onna scale never seen before. I don't endorse it, but I can understand it. It's just sad, really.
I can't follow any of the chapters about the diplomats; they always confuse me. I don't even get what happened here. There was a romantic moment I guess, then there was a terrorist attack (did anyone actually get shot?), there was a weird guy, and the terrorists are a cult? Are the diplomats even competent? What do they even do?
I miss the traveling duo.
I have to ask: why is Celestia even trying to fix everything? I get the title and premise is making things right, but she seems to be trying to be friends and go skipping through the feilds together, when that is utterly impossible. Why not simply give out a cure then pull themselves out of earth and lock the door behind them? By running around and causing trouble they're justifying humanity in eventually waging Total War for the sake of survival.
9906259
Because ponies are good people. Really good people.
If Twilight were to give up on Honesty, Loyalty, Laughter, Generosity, and especially here and now, Kindness, she wouldn't be much of a capstone Element. And considering Celestia had also once wielded some of those Elements, she's clearly not given up on those traits either.
Celestia's a good person, and she has the ability to help.
9991282
Good people? Of course they are. The problem is that they're also being very very stupid about it. The ones they are trying to make friends with were the targets of a war if total genocide, and because of that they can never accept friendship from Celestia. To do so would be turning their backs on their own lives, free will, and everything they value due to Celestia being a symbol of death.
The problem is that they're trying to be friends instead of actually just aiming to fix the problems earth has. If they really wanted to help they wouldn't be so concerned with being loved by humanity, instead of solving the problems (cure ponification, kill Evil!Celestia) and then leaving earth. Staying just increases the likelyhood that equestria will be invaded by an army who has good reason to believe their opponent will stip at nothing to kill them all.
9991680
Except that it's going to take time and effort to help earth with problems like the newfoals and EvilCelestia, in part because the good counterparts need to learn about the things they need to fix, and figure out how to do so. It will be a lot easier for Equestria to do this without being pursued to death the whole time.
And also, the measure of a good person isn't them being good when being good is easy, but when it is super hard. And I think this is appropriate for canon Equestria; they are good to others even and especially when it would be easier to was their hooves of the whole situation.