Ficcage ahoy! Conan Rerun part 5.
La la la... short bit this week, sorry. That's just where the bunnies jumped to...
[ --Reset. ]
Mentally cursing his short legs for the thousandth time since he’d been shrunk, Conan/Shinichi pelted through the underbrush, breath rasping in his throat as he circled around behind the burning building. The police hadn’t sent any officers up the slope into the trees, partly because the building didn’t have any exits there, partly because the wooded area behind the lab was completely encircled by a road they did have personnel watching, and partly because once the Organisation members had lit their fires to destroy the evidence, there had been a real danger that stray sparks could set light to the pine forest (more flammable than normal due to an unseasonably dry month) and turn it into an inferno. In fact, seeing the swirl of burning papers that puffed into the air as part of the roof fell in, he had to admit they had a point.
Still, just because the building hadn’t had any back exits planned when it was designed, didn’t mean the Black Organisation hadn’t added any since. They were a criminal syndicate, after all, experienced in murder, terrorism, blackmail, sabotage, and a whole fleet of other dirty tricks; something small like breaking a few building codes wasn’t going to bother them... besides which, even armoured windows could be broken, given enough determination and/or a little plastique. And if someone like Gin got out of the still-intact part of the building and made it into cover, Shinichi wouldn’t bet on a hundred police officers finding him. Which meant that for his own peace of mind (and possibly for the sake of his future peaceful existence, once Haibara found a cure for APTX 4869’s ‘little’ unforeseen side effect), he had to be where he could intercept anyone who made it out.
Hand on his dart-watch, light-amplification function dialled all the way up on his glasses, Shinichi came to a stop behind a thin screen of bushes. This spot was nicely placed for his purposes; he wasn’t immediately visible, he could see the full length of the back of the building, he was close to the most obvious easy routes up the hill, and -- quick check -- yes, there was a good supply of pine cones and rocks around for him to kick if the sleeping dart turned out to be insufficient ammunition. He only had one, so multiple targets would pose a problem, and the one time he’d tried to use it on Gin, the long-haired assassin had defeated the sedative. By shooting himself in the shoulder, admittedly, not something most people would try, but it proved the watch wasn’t a foolproof weapon.
That memory still gave him the willies. Deliberately steeling yourself to take a bullet... it wasn’t something he thought he would be capable of without some major motivation. Getting shot hurt like hell, as he remembered from his one unpleasant experience of being on the painful end of a firearm.
So he’s really strong-willed, he told himself, breath starting to even out as he watched for movement in the fire-lit dimness. Or crazy. Whatever... all I need to know is that he’s dangerous, and I’d better be ready to follow up a dart with two or three fast objects to the head!
That decided, Shinichi/Conan settled down a little, ready to keep watch until the laboratory was ashes if he had to. He had all the time in the world.
----------
Inside the building, following Gin’s instructions, Vodka twisted the last knob and watched a needle climb towards the line marked on a certain dial. It slowed as it rose, the last few millimetres seeming to take hours, but it finally crossed over; a red light lit, and Vodka flipped a switch.
* * * * *
[ --Reset. ]
Mentally cursing his short legs for the thousandth time since he’d been shrunk, Conan/Shinichi pelted through the underbrush, breath rasping in his throat as he circled around behind the burning building. The police hadn’t sent any officers up the slope into the trees, partly because the building didn’t have any exits there, partly because the wooded area behind the lab was completely encircled by a road they did have personnel watching, and partly because once the Organisation members had lit their fires to destroy the evidence, there had been a real danger that stray sparks could set light to the pine forest (more flammable than normal due to an unseasonably dry month) and turn it into an inferno. In fact, seeing the swirl of burning papers that puffed into the air as part of the roof fell in, he had to admit they had a point.
Still, just because the building hadn’t had any back exits planned when it was designed, didn’t mean the Black Organisation hadn’t added any since. They were a criminal syndicate, after all, experienced in murder, terrorism, blackmail, sabotage, and a whole fleet of other dirty tricks; something small like breaking a few building codes wasn’t going to bother them... besides which, even armoured windows could be broken, given enough determination and/or a little plastique. And if someone like Gin got out of the still-intact part of the building and made it into cover, Shinichi wouldn’t bet on a hundred police officers finding him. Which meant that for his own peace of mind (and possibly for the sake of his future peaceful existence, once Haibara found a cure for APTX 4869’s ‘little’ unforeseen side effect), he had to be where he could intercept anyone who made it out.
Hand on his dart-watch, light-amplification function dialled all the way up on his glasses, Shinichi came to a stop behind a thin screen of bushes. This spot was nicely placed for his purposes; he wasn’t immediately visible, he could see the full length of the back of the building, he was close to the most obvious easy routes up the hill, and -- quick check -- yes, there was a good supply of pine cones and rocks around for him to kick if the sleeping dart turned out to be insufficient ammunition. He only had one, so multiple targets would pose a problem, and the one time he’d tried to use it on Gin, the long-haired assassin had defeated the sedative. By shooting himself in the shoulder, admittedly, not something most people would try, but it proved the watch wasn’t a foolproof weapon.
That memory still gave him the willies. Deliberately steeling yourself to take a bullet... it wasn’t something he thought he would be capable of without some major motivation. Getting shot hurt like hell, as he remembered from his one unpleasant experience of being on the painful end of a firearm.
So he’s really strong-willed, he told himself, breath starting to even out as he watched for movement in the fire-lit dimness. Or crazy. Whatever... all I need to know is that he’s dangerous, and I’d better be ready to follow up a dart with two or three fast objects to the head!
That decided, Shinichi/Conan settled down a little, ready to keep watch until the laboratory was ashes if he had to. He had all the time in the world.
----------
Inside the building, following Gin’s instructions, Vodka twisted the last knob and watched a needle climb towards the line marked on a certain dial. It slowed as it rose, the last few millimetres seeming to take hours, but it finally crossed over; a red light lit, and Vodka flipped a switch.
* * * * *