It's not like no one saw THAT coming...
Feb. 22nd, 2007 03:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keDear Lappie. Start making sense, PLZ. I got that IE7 is not for you, when you rejected it for the fifth time. So excuse me for freaking out when the sixth download attempt went down without a hitch.
Love, me.
I finally finished Night Watch, uh, last week. Fascinating stuff. I shall have to track the movie down, I hear it's quite good too. So now there's only one thing to say: *headdesks repeatedly* STFU, bunnies!!!!
Sanzo felt a mixture of relief and panic, closely followed by ire, when three soldiers returned to the hold, leading Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku. The three of them seemed to be unharmed. Judging by the lack of expression on Hakkai’s face, however, the state of general unharmedness wouldn’t last for long. Sanzo watched the doctor assess the situation, one player at the time, and shook his head slightly when the cold eyes came to rest on him. You can’t possibly hope to fight them, he thought angrily, hoping against hope that some higher power will transfer the idea into Hakkai’s brain.
So they were pretty much stuck, watching ten Special Operatives efficiently go about fulfilling their orders, whatever they were. On the plus side, the orders didn’t seem to include killing Sanzo or his crew at the moment, and the longer everyone was in one piece the more time he head to figure out a way out of this mess. Even the Special Operatives make mistakes, after all. Unfortunately, as he very well knew, they rarely made them. Sanzo continued to scrutinise the squad, regardless.
With a vaguely threatening gesture on the soldiers’ part Gojyo was sent to the far side of the hold, to join the crew of West. The SOs didn’t seem to be concerned with Hakkai much, which was – well, it wasn’t all that surprising, Sanzo had deduced the doctor wasn’t who they were after, but it still warranted a question mark. According to the info he had, the doctor was responsible for manslaughter. The exact number of murders they held him accountable for was unknown, but the implication ruled out anything under twenty. So why were the SOs content to let him stand in the corner, almost as one of the crew. Only one soldier was assigned to monitor the lot of them, they obviously couldn’t matter less if they were on vacation.
“What happened to our rights?” Gojyo asked, as soon as the SOs rejoined their squad. The leader gave him an uninterested look.
“We are under orders to eliminate any and all obstacles. It is in your best interest that you don’t fall in that category.”
“The hell. You better have a warrant,” Sanzo said, but even he knew that threatening the SOs would be as effective as screaming at the wind. The squad leader obviously knew that he knew, judging by his smirk.
“I don’t think you want to get into discussion of what’s appropriate here, Genjo,” he said. “But have it your way. You and your crew are under arrest for aiding in theft of federal goods, harbouring a fugitive and murdering two federal officers. I’d read Dr. Cho’s charges too, but I’m afraid it’d take too long. You have the right to remain silent, and not get shot. You have the right to get shot, if you don’t remain silent.” He paused. His eyes glittered maliciously. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I do have a warrant.”
There was very little Sanzo could do but bristle. The leader cast another smug glance at him and turned to Goku, whose lacks in the height department were distressingly pronounced by the presence of two armed soldiers flanking him. Sanzo mentally went through a long list of his favourite expletives. If there was one thing he truly hated above all others, it was helplessness. Watching a scrawny little kid apprehended by a group of men each of whom could take down a soccer team, well, it just didn’t get any worse.
Goku looked scared, not that it was a surprise, singled out as he was by a group of trained soldiers. And yet, something was off, Sanzo thought. Goku was obviously frightened, his wide eyes couldn’t be any more expressive, but aside from his face he didn’t look like he was frightened. Most people would be trying to curl in on themselves and shield the oncoming blows, however figurative they would be. Goku was standing straight, perfectly still, staring ahead without as much as a shudder when the men tugged him roughly to the centre of the cargo hold.
Sanzo was suddenly reminded of Kouryuu. As allergic to animals as he usually was, he understood the basic principle of business, so when this one guy, offered to pay an exceedingly impressive sum for transport for himself and his dog, he had said yes. The dog was a vicious, powerful thing, and the owner wasn’t much better. Sanzo had come to regret that decision, but he gritted his teeth and made an extra effort to make sure Kouryuu was safely locked in his cabin, but, well, cats have their own agendas. They’d found him in the mess hall one morning, he was twice his normal size on account of each hair sticking up. He was staring the dog down, the huge, muscular evil thing, obviously bred to achieve as good dead-rat-per-second ratio as was caninely possible. So there it was, a bred killer on one side, and a feline street urchin on the other, and a whole pack of humans cheering on the sidelines.
Sanzo almost shot Jien that day, but it was excusable – the annoying pest of a kitten was a pain, but it was his pain, goddamnit. It really shouldn’t have surprised anyone that he whipped his gun out at “Fifty credits say Kouryuu will get himself a fucking ugly pelt”.
Staring at the obvious fright on Goku’s face and total stillness of the rest of him, Sanzo felt an undefined pang of trepidation. There was the same kind of intensity about his stillness as there’d been in the cat. It was as if every muscle was tensed, wound up so tight that the only way out was to explode. Sanzo tried to visualise the snap and drew a blank. Maybe there was something in the way Jien was spooked after all. He had never drawn a blank before.
The leader nodded in Goku’s direction, and the two men flanking him grabbed both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. Even from the distance Sanzo could tell the position had to be painful. The leader reached out and roughly shoved Goku’s head back and held it in place, exposing the kid’s throat. He accepted a dart gun from one of his subordinates and, without as much as blinking, pressed it below Goku’s ear. Sanzo didn’t hear the soft click the gun made, but he saw the man press the trigger.
Fuck it all to hell.
“Get the chest ready,” the leader said over his shoulder, throwing the gun back.
“Now wait a fucking minute!” Sanzo glared at him taking a step forward. “You dope him and stuff him in the damn box too, what the fuck is wrong with you lot!” He meant to say more, mostly in relation to the parentage and capabilities of the ten trained men sent to manhandle a skinny little runt of a boy, but before he could open his mouth again something heavy collided with the back of his head. He dropped to the floor with a groan, dimly aware of the angry and panicked cries from his crew.
“Sanzo!”
That was his name, he knew that much. Looks like the hit wasn’t all that professional, he thought to himself, I can make a guy forget he’s a guy with a hit.
Something else occurred to him then – the insistency and sheer desperation in that voice. He made an effort to look up. It was hell just to raise his head, even worse to actually look. Through the haze he could distinguish the dark silhouettes of the soldiers, even though they were barely visible in the grey hold. Then there was Goku, who was staring at him, his neck craned at an angle that couldn’t possibly be anywhere near comfortable. His eyes were wide and frightened, but that lasted for maybe a heartbeat, because then he blinked and the expression on his face vanished, as if it was washed away.
And then… Sanzo wasn’t quite sure what happened. Goku started to fall forward, which was quite expected, considering the drugs, except falling people normally go from vertical to horizontal, not vertical to vertical. Sanzo clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, in lieu of blinking. This was probably a mistake, as he seemed to have missed a crucial plot point of the show – when he closed his eyes, Goku was falling, when he could see again Goku was crouching on the chest of the prostrate SO leader. The man wasn’t moving. The two who’d been holding Goku’s arms were twitching on the floor. Sanzo felt his eyes grow wide. Three men down, inside of three seconds.
For a weightless moment the remaining soldiers stood unmoving, gaping in sheer disbelief, while Goku stood up and straightened. The moment didn’t last long. Soon enough the soldiers were all in motion, all seven intent on the slender figure in the middle of the hold. Sanzo cursed under his breath, still fighting with the pounding of his head. He hoisted himself up on one arm and reached for his gun. He managed to get it out of the holster before he looked up again, but once he did everything, gun included, was forgotten.
Goku let the first punch turn his head, if not by direct contact than by sheer force of suggestion. The rest of his body followed into the twist. The soldier seemed rather surprised when his punch seemed to last longer then he intended it to, especially since the velocity was now attached to his collar rather than his fist. He must have been even more surprised when he found himself building up momentum on his way towards the wall. The force of collision must have knocked him out, because he didn’t get up again.
Sanzo cursed under his breath. He could comprehend the amount of strength necessary to perform such a throw, and at no point did the mental image coincide with the picture of the scrawny kid who just did it.
Suddenly a lot of things made sense.
But that revelation would have to wait. The status of a Special Operative was never awarded lightly. These men were professional soldiers, trained to be efficient at obeying orders. Soldiers with orders to “eliminate if necessary”.
“Get down,” Sanzo yelled, still flat on the floor, annoyed at his dim-witted crew, who was just standing there, gaping. Not that he could talk really, he just had a head start. Kougaji was the first to gather his wits. He dropped to the floor immediately, swiping Lirin and Yaone’s legs from underneath them. Jien tripped Gojyo and followed Hakkai onto the floor, making an effort to keep track of the hell breaking loose.
All bets were now off. Bullets whizzed through the air, several of them lodging into the heavy crates, but most in the walls. They always flew past Goku, who each and every time was very pointedly not in their path. It wasn’t even that he was evading the shots, he was simply a step ahead of the bullet’s target. He seemed to be in his element, approaching the squad in the steps of some grotesque dance. Each step, each twist put him in a position to deliver a hit. And considering how he threw that one soldier across the room, Sanzo thought, he could pack a punch to easily render a man unconscious, if not dead. Within seconds he was surrounded by the squad, easily keeping up with the six soldiers. No, not keeping up.
Surpassing them.
As the first soldier fell from the melee, Goku reached out and grabbed a gun from his holster. Without the slightest pause, he pulled the trigger. It was not a warning shot. Neither were the next three. Rhythmically, one, two, three men hit the ground. Goku extended his hand back, pointing it squarely at another soldier’s head. Fourth shot. He whirled in place, his hand swinging in a wide arch, and the muzzle connected sharply with the jaw of the last soldier. Simultaneously, Goku kicked the gun out of his hand. It fell, but somehow Goku’s hand was there to intercept it. He straightened from the crouch, whirled in place, and pointed both pistols squarely at Sanzo’s chest.
“Stop it,” Sanzo hissed, trying to stare him down. He thanked the heavens for whatever it was that kept his body from trembling. Getting up this morning was hardly worth the effort, but getting up from the floor just now was really too much.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Goku’s fingers were squeezing both triggers, but he made an effort to keep staring into the freaky golden eyes, even though his own hand was tightening around the handle of his own pistol. He had no illusions about whose shot would be more effective. “Stop it,” he repeated.
Goku blinked and suddenly he was completely lax, falling to the floor like a discarded rag doll.
Sanzo tore his gaze away from his prone body and looked around, trying to convince his brain to believe his eyes. Ten Special Operatives dead or at least unconscious, and the only mark on Goku were the few drops of someone else’s blood staining his cheek.
And he’d thought the SOs were an abomination.
Hakkai was at Goku’s side in a flash, hoisting his head up and checking his vitals. And even then, despite the obvious haste, his moves were anything but frantic. The doctor’s hands moved methodically, searching for injuries in a calm and assured manner, moving from eyelids to mouth, neck and lower, not a twitch betraying fear or distress.
Sanzo forced the most empty glare he could muster onto his face and waited for Hakkai to meet his eyes. Hakkai didn’t raise his head, but looked at him over the rims of the glasses. That gaze was devoid of all emotion, as was the doctor’s face, but Sanzo could see his hands tightening where they held Goku, the knuckles turning white.
All eyes in the hold were now trained on Sanzo.
“Kou, Jien,” Sanzo said eventually, breaking the tense silence. “Dump the SOs outside. Make sure we’re not tagged. Yaone, Lirin, we’re out of here, now.”
“But Sanzo…”
“Now!”
There was obvious reluctance in the way the crew went about fulfilling the orders. Yaone wrapped an arm around shell-shocked Lirin and lead her out of the hold. Kougaji and Jien, aided by Gojyo, to Sanzo’s wry amusement, dragged the bodies out into the empty dock. Someone would find them eventually. Hopefully once they were long gone.
Sanzo clenched his eyes shut. This was a mistake. He should be handing the kid and the doctor over to the authorities, no questions asked, he knew he should. Because heroism and charity is good and fine, but their survival was at stake here. The government was not exactly a council of chivalrous knights who’d give them extra points for conduct, once they caught up.
Sanzo looked up to see Gojyo stare at him with a very strange smirk on his face. He smirked right back. It was a very big mistake, and it would most likely cost them their lives, but it wasn’t like he surprised anyone with his decision.
Sanzo returned his gaze to Goku and the insanely calm yet intense way Hakkai was holding him. Still too many questions plagued his mind. He did see the point of doping and packaging the kid, he had to give them that. Everything else still required an explanation.
“Hakkai- I want the fucking truth,” he said, the smirk gone. “And I want it now.”
Love, me.
I finally finished Night Watch, uh, last week. Fascinating stuff. I shall have to track the movie down, I hear it's quite good too. So now there's only one thing to say: *headdesks repeatedly* STFU, bunnies!!!!
Sanzo felt a mixture of relief and panic, closely followed by ire, when three soldiers returned to the hold, leading Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku. The three of them seemed to be unharmed. Judging by the lack of expression on Hakkai’s face, however, the state of general unharmedness wouldn’t last for long. Sanzo watched the doctor assess the situation, one player at the time, and shook his head slightly when the cold eyes came to rest on him. You can’t possibly hope to fight them, he thought angrily, hoping against hope that some higher power will transfer the idea into Hakkai’s brain.
So they were pretty much stuck, watching ten Special Operatives efficiently go about fulfilling their orders, whatever they were. On the plus side, the orders didn’t seem to include killing Sanzo or his crew at the moment, and the longer everyone was in one piece the more time he head to figure out a way out of this mess. Even the Special Operatives make mistakes, after all. Unfortunately, as he very well knew, they rarely made them. Sanzo continued to scrutinise the squad, regardless.
With a vaguely threatening gesture on the soldiers’ part Gojyo was sent to the far side of the hold, to join the crew of West. The SOs didn’t seem to be concerned with Hakkai much, which was – well, it wasn’t all that surprising, Sanzo had deduced the doctor wasn’t who they were after, but it still warranted a question mark. According to the info he had, the doctor was responsible for manslaughter. The exact number of murders they held him accountable for was unknown, but the implication ruled out anything under twenty. So why were the SOs content to let him stand in the corner, almost as one of the crew. Only one soldier was assigned to monitor the lot of them, they obviously couldn’t matter less if they were on vacation.
“What happened to our rights?” Gojyo asked, as soon as the SOs rejoined their squad. The leader gave him an uninterested look.
“We are under orders to eliminate any and all obstacles. It is in your best interest that you don’t fall in that category.”
“The hell. You better have a warrant,” Sanzo said, but even he knew that threatening the SOs would be as effective as screaming at the wind. The squad leader obviously knew that he knew, judging by his smirk.
“I don’t think you want to get into discussion of what’s appropriate here, Genjo,” he said. “But have it your way. You and your crew are under arrest for aiding in theft of federal goods, harbouring a fugitive and murdering two federal officers. I’d read Dr. Cho’s charges too, but I’m afraid it’d take too long. You have the right to remain silent, and not get shot. You have the right to get shot, if you don’t remain silent.” He paused. His eyes glittered maliciously. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I do have a warrant.”
There was very little Sanzo could do but bristle. The leader cast another smug glance at him and turned to Goku, whose lacks in the height department were distressingly pronounced by the presence of two armed soldiers flanking him. Sanzo mentally went through a long list of his favourite expletives. If there was one thing he truly hated above all others, it was helplessness. Watching a scrawny little kid apprehended by a group of men each of whom could take down a soccer team, well, it just didn’t get any worse.
Goku looked scared, not that it was a surprise, singled out as he was by a group of trained soldiers. And yet, something was off, Sanzo thought. Goku was obviously frightened, his wide eyes couldn’t be any more expressive, but aside from his face he didn’t look like he was frightened. Most people would be trying to curl in on themselves and shield the oncoming blows, however figurative they would be. Goku was standing straight, perfectly still, staring ahead without as much as a shudder when the men tugged him roughly to the centre of the cargo hold.
Sanzo was suddenly reminded of Kouryuu. As allergic to animals as he usually was, he understood the basic principle of business, so when this one guy, offered to pay an exceedingly impressive sum for transport for himself and his dog, he had said yes. The dog was a vicious, powerful thing, and the owner wasn’t much better. Sanzo had come to regret that decision, but he gritted his teeth and made an extra effort to make sure Kouryuu was safely locked in his cabin, but, well, cats have their own agendas. They’d found him in the mess hall one morning, he was twice his normal size on account of each hair sticking up. He was staring the dog down, the huge, muscular evil thing, obviously bred to achieve as good dead-rat-per-second ratio as was caninely possible. So there it was, a bred killer on one side, and a feline street urchin on the other, and a whole pack of humans cheering on the sidelines.
Sanzo almost shot Jien that day, but it was excusable – the annoying pest of a kitten was a pain, but it was his pain, goddamnit. It really shouldn’t have surprised anyone that he whipped his gun out at “Fifty credits say Kouryuu will get himself a fucking ugly pelt”.
Staring at the obvious fright on Goku’s face and total stillness of the rest of him, Sanzo felt an undefined pang of trepidation. There was the same kind of intensity about his stillness as there’d been in the cat. It was as if every muscle was tensed, wound up so tight that the only way out was to explode. Sanzo tried to visualise the snap and drew a blank. Maybe there was something in the way Jien was spooked after all. He had never drawn a blank before.
The leader nodded in Goku’s direction, and the two men flanking him grabbed both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. Even from the distance Sanzo could tell the position had to be painful. The leader reached out and roughly shoved Goku’s head back and held it in place, exposing the kid’s throat. He accepted a dart gun from one of his subordinates and, without as much as blinking, pressed it below Goku’s ear. Sanzo didn’t hear the soft click the gun made, but he saw the man press the trigger.
Fuck it all to hell.
“Get the chest ready,” the leader said over his shoulder, throwing the gun back.
“Now wait a fucking minute!” Sanzo glared at him taking a step forward. “You dope him and stuff him in the damn box too, what the fuck is wrong with you lot!” He meant to say more, mostly in relation to the parentage and capabilities of the ten trained men sent to manhandle a skinny little runt of a boy, but before he could open his mouth again something heavy collided with the back of his head. He dropped to the floor with a groan, dimly aware of the angry and panicked cries from his crew.
“Sanzo!”
That was his name, he knew that much. Looks like the hit wasn’t all that professional, he thought to himself, I can make a guy forget he’s a guy with a hit.
Something else occurred to him then – the insistency and sheer desperation in that voice. He made an effort to look up. It was hell just to raise his head, even worse to actually look. Through the haze he could distinguish the dark silhouettes of the soldiers, even though they were barely visible in the grey hold. Then there was Goku, who was staring at him, his neck craned at an angle that couldn’t possibly be anywhere near comfortable. His eyes were wide and frightened, but that lasted for maybe a heartbeat, because then he blinked and the expression on his face vanished, as if it was washed away.
And then… Sanzo wasn’t quite sure what happened. Goku started to fall forward, which was quite expected, considering the drugs, except falling people normally go from vertical to horizontal, not vertical to vertical. Sanzo clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, in lieu of blinking. This was probably a mistake, as he seemed to have missed a crucial plot point of the show – when he closed his eyes, Goku was falling, when he could see again Goku was crouching on the chest of the prostrate SO leader. The man wasn’t moving. The two who’d been holding Goku’s arms were twitching on the floor. Sanzo felt his eyes grow wide. Three men down, inside of three seconds.
For a weightless moment the remaining soldiers stood unmoving, gaping in sheer disbelief, while Goku stood up and straightened. The moment didn’t last long. Soon enough the soldiers were all in motion, all seven intent on the slender figure in the middle of the hold. Sanzo cursed under his breath, still fighting with the pounding of his head. He hoisted himself up on one arm and reached for his gun. He managed to get it out of the holster before he looked up again, but once he did everything, gun included, was forgotten.
Goku let the first punch turn his head, if not by direct contact than by sheer force of suggestion. The rest of his body followed into the twist. The soldier seemed rather surprised when his punch seemed to last longer then he intended it to, especially since the velocity was now attached to his collar rather than his fist. He must have been even more surprised when he found himself building up momentum on his way towards the wall. The force of collision must have knocked him out, because he didn’t get up again.
Sanzo cursed under his breath. He could comprehend the amount of strength necessary to perform such a throw, and at no point did the mental image coincide with the picture of the scrawny kid who just did it.
Suddenly a lot of things made sense.
But that revelation would have to wait. The status of a Special Operative was never awarded lightly. These men were professional soldiers, trained to be efficient at obeying orders. Soldiers with orders to “eliminate if necessary”.
“Get down,” Sanzo yelled, still flat on the floor, annoyed at his dim-witted crew, who was just standing there, gaping. Not that he could talk really, he just had a head start. Kougaji was the first to gather his wits. He dropped to the floor immediately, swiping Lirin and Yaone’s legs from underneath them. Jien tripped Gojyo and followed Hakkai onto the floor, making an effort to keep track of the hell breaking loose.
All bets were now off. Bullets whizzed through the air, several of them lodging into the heavy crates, but most in the walls. They always flew past Goku, who each and every time was very pointedly not in their path. It wasn’t even that he was evading the shots, he was simply a step ahead of the bullet’s target. He seemed to be in his element, approaching the squad in the steps of some grotesque dance. Each step, each twist put him in a position to deliver a hit. And considering how he threw that one soldier across the room, Sanzo thought, he could pack a punch to easily render a man unconscious, if not dead. Within seconds he was surrounded by the squad, easily keeping up with the six soldiers. No, not keeping up.
Surpassing them.
As the first soldier fell from the melee, Goku reached out and grabbed a gun from his holster. Without the slightest pause, he pulled the trigger. It was not a warning shot. Neither were the next three. Rhythmically, one, two, three men hit the ground. Goku extended his hand back, pointing it squarely at another soldier’s head. Fourth shot. He whirled in place, his hand swinging in a wide arch, and the muzzle connected sharply with the jaw of the last soldier. Simultaneously, Goku kicked the gun out of his hand. It fell, but somehow Goku’s hand was there to intercept it. He straightened from the crouch, whirled in place, and pointed both pistols squarely at Sanzo’s chest.
“Stop it,” Sanzo hissed, trying to stare him down. He thanked the heavens for whatever it was that kept his body from trembling. Getting up this morning was hardly worth the effort, but getting up from the floor just now was really too much.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Goku’s fingers were squeezing both triggers, but he made an effort to keep staring into the freaky golden eyes, even though his own hand was tightening around the handle of his own pistol. He had no illusions about whose shot would be more effective. “Stop it,” he repeated.
Goku blinked and suddenly he was completely lax, falling to the floor like a discarded rag doll.
Sanzo tore his gaze away from his prone body and looked around, trying to convince his brain to believe his eyes. Ten Special Operatives dead or at least unconscious, and the only mark on Goku were the few drops of someone else’s blood staining his cheek.
And he’d thought the SOs were an abomination.
Hakkai was at Goku’s side in a flash, hoisting his head up and checking his vitals. And even then, despite the obvious haste, his moves were anything but frantic. The doctor’s hands moved methodically, searching for injuries in a calm and assured manner, moving from eyelids to mouth, neck and lower, not a twitch betraying fear or distress.
Sanzo forced the most empty glare he could muster onto his face and waited for Hakkai to meet his eyes. Hakkai didn’t raise his head, but looked at him over the rims of the glasses. That gaze was devoid of all emotion, as was the doctor’s face, but Sanzo could see his hands tightening where they held Goku, the knuckles turning white.
All eyes in the hold were now trained on Sanzo.
“Kou, Jien,” Sanzo said eventually, breaking the tense silence. “Dump the SOs outside. Make sure we’re not tagged. Yaone, Lirin, we’re out of here, now.”
“But Sanzo…”
“Now!”
There was obvious reluctance in the way the crew went about fulfilling the orders. Yaone wrapped an arm around shell-shocked Lirin and lead her out of the hold. Kougaji and Jien, aided by Gojyo, to Sanzo’s wry amusement, dragged the bodies out into the empty dock. Someone would find them eventually. Hopefully once they were long gone.
Sanzo clenched his eyes shut. This was a mistake. He should be handing the kid and the doctor over to the authorities, no questions asked, he knew he should. Because heroism and charity is good and fine, but their survival was at stake here. The government was not exactly a council of chivalrous knights who’d give them extra points for conduct, once they caught up.
Sanzo looked up to see Gojyo stare at him with a very strange smirk on his face. He smirked right back. It was a very big mistake, and it would most likely cost them their lives, but it wasn’t like he surprised anyone with his decision.
Sanzo returned his gaze to Goku and the insanely calm yet intense way Hakkai was holding him. Still too many questions plagued his mind. He did see the point of doping and packaging the kid, he had to give them that. Everything else still required an explanation.
“Hakkai- I want the fucking truth,” he said, the smirk gone. “And I want it now.”
