The decision had finally been made that the team sent in to find out what had happened to Nadiel (and kill him, if necessary) would be members of his own branch, the SpecOps. This operation only gained liability from numbers and they were the most efficient at getting the best results with the least amount of men. Also, they were especially trained for covert operations and tactical assassinations, so they were the obvious choice for eliminating him and any carnivores he was collaborating with quickly and quietly. Nadiel included, there was a total of nine SpecOps squad leaders in the entire Ellis clan, each in command of ten elites. Only three of these commanders had worked alongside Nadiel in the past, but all of them were familiar enough with him to be reluctant to kill one of their own. Nadiel may have been an awkward, unsociable man who didn't trust them to do much right, but to them he was still a comrade, even a brother. The thought of letting him die in the wilderness was bad enough, at least dying by their hand would be somewhat more admirable. But worst of all was the possibility that he might have been driven mad by the jungle creatures and somehow been manipulated into taking their side. One commander in particular, a member of the Hebron family, was so disgusted by this possibility that she volunteered to do the job herself if it should come to that. She knew all too well how his childhood had played out, and how he came to love something that wasn't a member of his own species. Time and again she had tried to talk him out of it, she even offered herself as a replacement for what he had lost, but he just wouldn't take interest. "How?" she would ask herself again and again, "How could he possibly choose that monster over me?". The time had come to find out, and she made herself ready to finally set things right.
Commander Hebron summoned her men and briefed them on what they were to do. Nadiel's own lieutenant had valuable knowledge of his last known location and heading, so she was included in the search party as well. The eleven of them made one stop to procure the personal blessings of Lord Ellis himself before departing. The clan's leader was no less concerned over the situation as anyone else, and since he had taken care of Nadiel since he was orphaned he made perfectly clear that his life would only be put in jeopardy if no other coarse of action was possible. Ellis had only one word of warning for the commander, that if she allowed personal feelings to cloud her judgment there would be no chance of either rescuing or killing Nadiel. It was the very last thing she wanted to hear, but she knew it to be true. Under a full moon the team made their way to the gates of their village, then moved with great haste northwest towards the city of Negav. They took great care not to deviate from the path that marked the separation of territories between the nagas to the north, and the dridders to the west. Their village and its own territory had become the buffer zone between these two great races, so to set foot on either side was an open request not only to be made into mincemeat, but also to void all past agreements with both races and place their village right in the center of a particularly voracious game of monkey in the middle.
Even considering the fact that every member of the Ellis clan had some amount of neko and elvish ancestry in them that gave them substantial mobility, the pace that the search party made was extraordinary, fast enough even to make it through a long stretch of wilderness without so much as being noticed by any of the natives. By sunrise they had already set up a temporary base of operations in Negav. They knew that this city would be Nadiel's only possible safe haven, so if he was to buy new supplies or properly treat his wounds he would do it here. Hebron's eight men plus her own lieutenant were to remain there to ask the townsfolk for any relevant information. This drew a good deal of attention, for there was hardly a way to ask them for clues about a renegade commander who might be plotting to destroy humanity without sounding like something had gone horribly wrong. All the while Hebron had taken Nadiel's lieutenant to retrace his steps. She was an expert tracker after all, so she did not take long to follow his path from the Ascarlin mountains northward into the heart of the jungle. By midday they had found the scene of death where Nadiel had exterminated the rogue combat team, and after a few days it had become a putrid cesspit of rotting flesh. Even after that much decay the wounds on the dead were unmistakable. The bullet wounds were too clean and narrow to have been from any gun but the Celeste II, and the bodies that had been cut or stabbed could have easily met with its integral bayonet. Nadiel had done this, but had he gotten away in one piece? This question gained new significance when the remains of naga tracks were found nearby. Could he have met a sticky end from a nonhuman threat? His own footsteps did end right where the naga's had come to approach him, so this was a distinct possibility. But there always was the once chance that something else happened, and anxiety was building at an alarming rate to see if it had. There was no corpse or blood trail that would suggest an open fight with the naga, so either Nadiel had been eaten, or he had done something far worse.
Every member of the Ellis clan, and the SpecOps in particular, had full knowledge of the perils involved with being ingested by large carnivores. Many did carry specially made chemical solutions to weaken various stomach acids, and tools with which to make their escape. Even if Nadiel was badly wounded, if he was swallowed he could have made the best of it. Knowing him it would not have been surprising if he had gotten himself eaten intentionally just to pull a trojan horse maneuver to keep his pursuers from following his trail. No man-eater living this far north could have possibly known that humans were even capable of using such schemes. With a little luck Nadiel could have hitched a ride to just about anywhere without his unwitting taxi service even knowing what they might be carrying. This trick would have been anything but pleasant, but finding him now would take a miracle. Hebron's only hope was to follow the naga tracks and hope that they led somewhere significant.
While all this was taking place, Crisis was fulfilling her promise to keep Nadiel from finding what he was looking for. Instead of leading him to significant figures who might actually know a thing or two, she took him on a roundabout tour of the jungle, making sure to put him face to face with the most deadly creatures it had to offer. She thought that he would either be scared silly or driven out of his patience and that in no time he would be begging to be returned to his home. Using him as as bait for fly fishing in mermaid-infested waters, telling him that fairies make excellent masseuses (they probably do, but asking them for their services is a good way to lose your life), egging him on to playing tag with tonorions, just about any activity that would have been instant death for normal humans was fair game. And after every one of these trials he would just nurse his wounds, give Crisis a thorough cursing, then wait to see what would happen next. He had suspected that she wasn't trying to be helpful, but it seemed that every time he had to face some hungry creature, for just one split second there would be something just barely visible in the corner of his eye, or some faint sound just barely audible, gasping in worry for his sake. If it was who he thought it was, then perhaps getting himself killed would be the motivation to making her come out of hiding. Was she really watching him the whole time? Was it her invisible hand that miraculously got him out of all those situations? Maybe he would have to die to find out.
Subject: Ch. 4 -Don't Shoot the Messanger 
Wed Mar 26, 2008 2:53 pm
