Disclaimer: I only have a few DVDs. I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin.
Amon: This is getting annoying. You can’t even see the screen because of all the blood. Just take the knife out.
Kitsune: I suppose that’s what I’ll have to do. It’s so anticlimactic though.
Puff: *still giggling*
Amon: …
Kitsune: *yanks out knife*
Puff: Kitty, you took away my fun. *pouts*
Chapter Thirty-Seven: More Problems Arise
Amon was about to dart for the door when he happened to look down and he noticed what he had been forced to wear. He sighed with annoyance as he beat the worst of the soot out of his own clothes and quickly changed back into them. Making sure that a single pink bunny didn’t remain on him, the dark hunter hurried out into the corridor.
His dark eyes flicked around as he tried to figure out where Dr. Takahashi had gone. He spotted a color-coded map of the hospital and searched for anywhere the security may have been centralized. Amon quickly realized that he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for and decided to hurry off to the pediatrics wing, the most logical place to begin his search.
“You arrived just in time, Amon,” Dr. Takahashi muttered gravely, barely glancing over at the hunter, “We found my nurse a few minutes ago.”
“How is she?” Amon asked, praying that she was well enough to answer his questions.
“She was unconscious when we got to her and she has severe hypothermia. The supply closet she had been locked in was completely encased in ice,” Dr. Takahashi said darkly, his fingers tightly coiled around the thin pen he grasped, “She’s going to live but who ever did this to her didn’t plan on it. From all the things that had bound her, they wanted her to either freeze to death or to suffocate slowly in that makeshift tomb.”
“When she’s well enough, I’m going to need to ask her a few questions,” Amon stated bluntly, staring straight ahead, “Michael got a hold of the security footage from when the witches arrived, but the most crucial bits are missing. I must know if your nurse can fill in the blanks.”
“I doubt it. She keeps muttering that the old women who attacked her looked so nice,” Dr. Takahashi explained, turning around to look at Amon, “That probably won’t help you unless you need to know what three old women looked like.”
“The footage doesn’t show three old women. It was two younger women, one of which was Morganna, and a teenage boy. Unfortunately, they were all wearing hoods before the tape cut out,” Amon said with slight irritation, carefully watching his tone of voice. His dark eyes flicked around the area, narrowing when he spotted small children with their heads stuck out of doorways.
“Javan’s fine, Amon, I went and checked in on her while they were searching for my nurse,” Dr. Takahashi soothed as he noticed Amon’s reaction, “She’s actually one out of maybe ten children who are still asleep after all the commotion. I guess she has had a very eventful day and the rest will do her good.” Amon nodded, surprised that the doctor was able to read him so quickly and easily.
A few moment of silence between the men passed, punctuated by a bit of nervous throat clearing. Both pairs of eyes were meticulously scrutinizing the long hallway, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“You said that a friend of yours managed to hack into the hospital security database, right?” Dr. Takahashi questioned, looking distinctly upset over the issue while he waited for Amon’s quick nod, “The video may have just been disrupted by all the protection we have on the files. I’m sure that’s why the video cut out. We’ll just access the file legally and watch the clip to get what you need.”
“Michael said the recording cut out when one of the witches pushed a button on something he was holding,” Amon explained calmly, watching as the doctor flung himself into a nearby chair, “I don’t think it was the security you had in place. Something like that wouldn’t have stopped Michael from getting everything he needed.”
“That must be some hacker you’ve got working with you,” Dr. Takahashi said with a twinge of awe, “We’ve never had anyone get that far into the computer systems. In fact, most people who even manage to get past the outer layers immediately set off a sort of digital trap that locks down everything until the technicians can chase out the intruder.” Amon was opening his mouth to respond when his cell phone began to ring.
“Yes?” Amon questioned, not knowing whom to address since he hadn’t bothered to look at the screen before he answered it.
“I tried everything to restore the lost data in the video,” Michael said, obviously aggravated by the problem, “I did, however, get a few seconds of semi-destroyed footage right after the witch pushed that button. It wasn’t anything crucial but I’m pretty sure that the device generated some type of interference that messed-up the camera’s recording ability since it took a moment to completely take effect.”
“If the witches have the technology to take out cameras without using their craft, who knows what else they can do,” Amon stated disgustedly, his near black eyes filling with hatred.
“Yeah and if they don’t use their craft, I can’t track their energy signals. I want to know where they got that device though. It’s not like you can just go out and buy that kind of thing,” Michael muttered, zooming in on the scene that best showed the gadget, “To make that and have it work every time, while still being as small as it is, would require a technological genius.”
“You could build one, right?” Amon asked quickly, waving the doctor off when he attempted to speak, “I just want to know what we’re now going up against. We may have to increase training efforts and the amount of weaponry we carry out on missions.”
“I’m not sure. I excel at coding and hacking, not really wiring a new electronic device,” Michael explained, trying to enhance the image on his screen, “If you need something new built, I might be able to ask Bryton and his sister.” The hacker flung his empty coffee cup across the office when he reached the point when he couldn’t resize and enhance the image of the device anymore.
“No, not yet. I don’t believe the STN-J is that badly off,” Amon said, slightly wincing when he heard the ceramic shatter, “Do I want to know?”
“I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately. Everything in our computer systems seems to be working against me. I mean, we once lost contact with headquarters and the Factory last night. Not that it’s bad we were all but cut off from outside help” Michael said dryly, letting his head fall off to the side of his keyboard, “Do me a favor and tell that doctor friend of yours to have better cameras installed.” The hacker switched off his phone, sighing when another program failed.
“Well, Amon, what’s the news?” Dr. Takahashi inquired, looking somewhat more relaxed than he previously had.
“You need to install better cameras,” Amon stated coolly, not even letting his eyelashes twitch when the doctor looked at him like he was a nut case, “I’d best be getting back to the office. Would you mind contacting me when I should come and get Robin and Javan?”
“I’d be delighted to. Javan will most likely be able to go home tonight, depending on how she’s doing when she wakes up. You can get Robin whenever she’s awake since all of her wounds have healed seamlessly,” Dr. Takahashi said brightly, grinning at Amon, “Now be careful on your way back. I don’t want to have to keep you here again. The last time nearly drove me to a nervous break-down.”
Amon shook his head slightly and hurried off down the corridors, out into the rain-drenched parking lot. He silently walked through the rows of cars, his head hung over to protect his face from the fiercely pouring rain and the biting wind.
As he drove to the office, he was continuously pushing his black bangs out of his eyes so he could see the slick roads ahead. The streets he took were mostly deserted, due to the horrendous weather and to the early hour.
When the hunter finally arrived back at the office and had parked his car in the parking garage, he was greeted by a simple off-white envelope pinned backwards to one of the cement support beams with a razor sharp dagger. Amon carefully pulled the knife out and slipped it into his coat pocket. Spidery black writing spelled out his name, the letters locked together by the many curlicues that adorned them.
He pulled the knife back out of his pocket and cut the sealed envelope open, suspiciously tipping it upside down first. A thin, almost translucent, folded slip of paper fluttered down to the cold floor.
Amon picked it up and slowly unfolded it, letting his eyes skate over the words quickly. As he read, the air around him seemed to become tumultuous with his anger. When the final word was read, the hunter dashed inside the building to contact the team.