Chapter Three: Plans

Commander Kozo Fuyutsuki sat still in his chair, stairing outside the window, up towards the sky. A long time ago, such a view was not available to the inhabitants of NERV headquarters. But now, the sky's blue was clear through the hole that led to the crater. The clouds angelic patterns could be clearly identified and admired. And the sun shone enthusiastically, glazing over the paintings in the sky with a layer of light. It put the commander at calm. He needed this calm, because the most important problem on his mind these days was one that simply could not be solved -- the party behind the attack a couple of weeks ago.
   The communications and intelligence branch had been on this topic since then, and had come up quite dry. The UN meetings had been pitifully useless, and now, NERV was out of cards, left with no option other than to continue living its daily routine with an ominous cloud of dread hanging over its head. What could he do? Have every phone call checked that was made in the past week? The past year? Even if he did, what useful information could possibly turn up?
   The problem with being the commander of a fortress which happened to also be something of a world icon was that anyone posing as a threat to this fortress would have to be a smart bastard. This left Fuyustuki hoping that he was an even smarter bastard so that he could win in any conflict surrounding his organization.
   Again, the commander found himself wishing that there was something better than taking in a dozen men and pretending that the UN was closely watching the situation, ready to lend support at any given time. Feeling trapped and abandoned at the same time did not do well to encourage moral among the people, and it was a known fact that many people in New Tokyo-3 were considering running away again. Luckily, most anyone who thought of leaving already had a night after the attack, and not that many had. That, at least, was good for the people of NERV's morale, who did not feel as alone as they would have. At least their own countrymen, their neighbors, would not abandon them so easily.
   The commander of NERV decided to visit the training grounds around and near the complex, and see how the military officers were taking the situation.

The Mister Shinji Ikari spent his day with his friends at the local arcade with his oldest friends. However, he could not keep his mind on a game -- he was too focused on the upcoming evening. Touji and Kensuke had a decade-old score to settle, however, and so leaved him to think about it for now. The various bells and whistles sung together and formed a cacophony of, well, Shinji forced himself to break his focus from the gaming machines and concentrated instead on the matter which worried him.
   The last time he and Asuka had headed out for a drink, it had been informal -- that is, it was a spur of the moment decision, and no one had to take responsibility for it. This time, however... Well, Asuka had been the one to ask (surprisingly enough) and he was not going to refuse. Really, what was he worried about? Shinji had familiarized himself with his next room neighbor well by now, and did not feel intimidated by her presence any longer (relatively speaking, at any rate, since he would not become the more dominant of the two when they conversed and socialized). Shinji was not worried about what he would wear for the evening, since he would be wearing what he always wore, and Asuka would most likelu do the same. This was not an act of any commitment of the slightest degree, was it; it was simply a drink. But then once again, why had Asuka, of all the most independent souls on the earth, asked for this outing? But why should he wonder now, what would it yield? The place the two of them would go was well-visited by both of them, and so there was no problem there, either. Why all this worrying? Shinji knew he was not having jitters about simply being with a girl, because for some reason, the red-haired woman did not strike him as a creature of the category; in clearer terms, she was not one of those foreign beings whose every action felt as awkward as their presence. Asuka was simply different -- the two of them shared a history and thus a memory. Well, that was probably only one of the many things that revolved around whatever transversed between them two, but... Still then, Shinji, wondered, why was he wondering about this little event, rather than enjoying himself with his friends?
   Because, the last time he and Asuka headed out for a drink, things went well. So well in fact, that the boy had to wonder to himself if tonight could only be a disappointment. He was getting ahead of himself on multiple levels here, of course, but no matter the circumstances, Shinji Ikari had since that afternoon on the maglev train reminisced about that day frequently. Everything was loose, without tension. At some point, in fact, Shinji had gone off for an hour and met up with his uncle and aunt, who had taken care of him during his childhood days. They had ready for him a present, and when he returned to meet up with Soryu, the two of them had cruised through the city on a new red bicycle looking for a place to have a snack, since by then dinner time was drawing close, and they were nowhere near where dinner was usually eaten.

But now there was a bar to measure by. Even to this day, whenever he and Asuka conversed with one another, both would sound slightly lost in an effort to not step on one another's toes. And that is how Shinji felt now -- lost. Of course, the Third Child was not completely devoid of knowledge nor was he over-assuming when it came to these kinds of things, but with Asuka, whose rather wide spectrum of personalities he could never fully grasp or understand came into play, any theories or thoughts Shinji had were immediately shattered.
   I wonder, he thought to himself, what she is thinking.

"Well, then what were you thinking when you asked him out?" Hikari finally asked.
   "I don't know!" And with that, Asuka lowered her head into her arms, and pulled at her hair.
   The afternoon found both of them at their favorite scenic spot, on the bridge overlooking the lake. It was golden and green this day, quite beautiful considering the time of year it was. It had been weeks since the two women had bought ice cream and sat at this spot. Hikari Horaki, who will forever onward be nicknamed the class representative, tilted her head slightly forward and looked at Asuka with question. She let a chunk of ice cream melt in her mouth while she thought. A bus rumbled by behind them.
   "Ah, well," Hikari began as nonchalantly as she could, "it sounds-"
   Asuka looked up and gave her a glare. Hikari's assessment trailed off, and she took another scoop of ice cream, watching Asuka out the corner of her eye.
   "Sounds fun."
   Soryu looked up with a relieved expression. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Thanks." Asuka slurped at her melting ice cream, and continued: "You know, this wasn't such a big problem until I told you about it."

She stood in the shooting range at NERV headquarters, her glock in hand, at her side. The sounds of men firing rounds into silhouette targets lane by lane. Shots echoed when alone, but a sort of harmony was created when many bullets were fired at the same time. The atmosphere was not unlike that of a bowling alley. Huh.
   Misato Katsuragi found herself at a nondescript lane, firing into a silhouette target. She loaded her gun with a fresh clip, and, satisfied with the crisp clicks that accompanied the cocking of the slide, she tensed up slightly, and held her gun low and to the side. As soon as she heard the next shot fired from someone else in the firing range, she reacted as quickly as she could by bringing her pistol up to bear in a ready stance, her left hand holding the butt of the magazine. One shot -- it glanced the enemy's left cheek. Two more rounds in rapid succession immediately after -- the target lost an eye and his upper jaw. A kill, at least on paper. A real person would have reacted after having had a raw bullet graze his face.
   The precision of her ability was obvious from the time she had spent in the range -- three shots should she have a half-second to fire, two shots if she had a full second, and she would need very slightly more to attain a kill in one round. This was all under ideal circumstances, however, and the paper silhouette was only five meters away. As she lowered her aim, Misato found that she was slightly fried each time after doing this. The after-effects from the rush of excitement were apparent. Misato decided that she would see about finding a master for the training ground who could teach NERV officers who did not already have extensive training a thing or two about combat. For now, however, Misato looked around.
   Some Rainbow members were around, assisting others with their aim or their stance. For a second, Misato considered asking Jing-Kai to give her some help, but there were a few problems. Despite the fact that of the entire Rainbow team secretly residing near the base, Jing-Kai was the one she knew the best, Misato felt a sense of competition towards him. There was no question that Jing-Kai and his boys were some of the best, if not the absolute best, at what they did, but some of the officers who had trained with the military advisors visiting NERV felt intimidated towards them, and while there was respect in that feeling of intimidation, Misato did not like admitting that she needed help from the competition. The second problem, well...

"How come your friend always has so much free time?" Misato asked one evening at the dinner table. Shinji wore a confused look upon his face. Asuka and Hikari apparently understood what the raven-haired woman meant after a few seconds, however, and waited. Jing-Kai raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself.
   "Uh, me?" he asked.
   "Yeah," Misato answered. "I mean, don't you have a wife, or a girlfriend or something?"
   "No..." Jing-Kai trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. Then he brought his hand up and scratched the back of his head. "The, ah, realm of that kind of thing is actually quite foreign to me."
   Misato raised an eyebrow. No one said anything for about seven-tenths of a second.
   "Homo," Asuka said softly but clearly. Hikari nudged her friend's arm while holding back a small giggle. Misato smiled, too, and wondered if she should exlain to Jing-Kai that Asuka still was not feeling like herself these days, still recovering from Third Impact and all that... but actually, this was a sign that Asuka was beginning to feel like her old self again. Besides, it was fun looking at how flabbergasted the soldier had become, chopsticks in one hand, a handful of hair in the other.
   "What does- how did- what are you talking about?" Jing-Kai sputtered.
   "Okay, fine," Asuka conceded, her menacing smile dying down a bit. "But 'foreign?' What is that supposed to mean? You've never done anything with a girl before?"
   "No; the opportunity never really presented itself," Jing-Kai answered with a frown.
   "Nothing. Nothing at all?" Asuka crossed her arms.
   "Nope." Major Jing-Kai scratched his cheek. At this point, the conversation quickly focused on the German and the Chinese, so much so that the other three at the table began having trouble keeping track of who was saying what.
   "Didn't they have school events in America back then, too?"
   "Never attended them, no cool girls where I lived." Scratch, scratch.
   "How sad, that. Where did you live, on a boat?"
   "California." Grin.
   "College?" Smug look, one that perturbed.
   "Boot camp." Defiant, annoyed, yet slightly amused expression.
   A few seconds of attrition, and then, "I don't think you're not that ugly."
   "Says the pretty little redhead who has yet to find a date of her own, am I right?" Rubbing chin.
   A tiny snarl, hmph, and "Homo."
   Now the military man was the silent one, twitching. "I don't like you."
   "What? You're not really gay, are you?" Sincere surprise, a bit.
   "No!"
   "You never accepted a date, even? No one 'cool' enough in thirty years?" Disturbed and annoyed tone.
   "I was never asked!" Apalled that someone not yet even seventeen years old could be so agitating.
   "Oh geez, you are that ugly!" Grin and mock horrified look.
   "No, I just don't function right near nice-looking ladies, alright?" Desperate voice.
   "Apparently not." Chuckle.
   "You don't count." Petulant look.
   "Fine," the redhead finally resigned (sort of). "You're just a geek, then, right?"
   "Yes," Jing-Kai grumpily coughed. "Shut up."
   Hikari was covering her eyes, Shinji stared at the floor to his side. Misato blinked, and felt that somehow, this guy would fit in just fine with Shinji's other friends, when he met them.

Within a week after teasing him about it by occasionally pointing out other attractive girls in the city, however, it was clear that Jing-Kai had a pretty high standard of what defined an "attractive female." Misato, as she later overheard, happened to fit that standard.
   The leader of Team One turned from the guy he was mentoring and looked at Misato with some curiosity, but no sense of embarrassment. Well, knowing him, it would only be a matter time, proximity, and sweetness before he cracked.
  "Hey, Kai," Misato chirped. He raised his eyebrows. "Get over here."
  "Hm?" he asked in a nonchalant tone. "Want some advice?"
  "Please."
  Misato went through her little exercise once more, getting a fatal shot in two rounds. As she went through her routine, Jing-Kai stood with his weight on one leg, his arms crossed, watching her closely. As the second shell hit the floor, Misato held her position to see how Jing-Kai was looking. He still seemed completely casual as he brought his hands up, pulled Misato's left hand grip back a notch, and then moved in closer and adjusted her arms so that they were extended ever so slightly further.
  "Hit the guy's heart on three, got it?" he asked, pointing at the target. Misato nodded, and concentrated. Jing-Kai held up a hand.
  "One," he said, extending his index finger.
  "Three," he said, extending the second.
   It took Misato a split second before she reacted, her aim jerking from the target's nose to his left lung area. She let loose a shot before she prepared to recalibrate her aim. Except she had hit the heart succesfully, dead on, and Jing-Kai had laid a firm grip on her right arm. "Calm down," he grinned, and patted her arm twice and shook it a bit to get the point across.
   "I was calm," Misato replied with a strange cross between a frown and a grin of her own.
   "Sure you were, but in the real thing, they move," Jing-Kai pointed to the target again, "and they aren't always right in front of you." Misato nodded once. "And don't expect to miss everytime you fire the first time. It won't do you any good at all, trust me. It's better if you feel more confident before firing at all than after firing one round." The man made motions with his own Beretta to illustrate what he was saying.
   "Huh, I thought you didn't function well around women," Misato chided.
   Jing-Kai took a second to understand what she was saying, and another to think about an answer. "Huh," he brought up his .45 Beretta and twirled it a bit. "Must be the sheer amount of testosterone that comes with these things." He jumped his eyebrows a few times, mock saluted, and walked away whistling. The interesting thing was that what the guy was saying was probably true.
   Weirdo, Major Katsuragi thought, before taking aim at the practice target once again. It took her a moment to readjust her grip the way Jing-Kai had instructed, and another moment to become used to the position. Before she fired, however, she caught the commander at the stairway, slowly walking down. Men stood at attention as he passed and gave them nods. Misato herself set down her pistol and stood up straighter.
   "Hm," Fuyutsuki surveyed the area, and took in a breath. "How are our guests fitting in?"
   "Just fine, sir," Misato responded sharply. She bowed slightly as the commander hummed once more and walked towards the aforementioned guests.

The albino child sat patiently at the military council desk, nodding her head steadily to the Chinese commanders who questioned her on nearly every topic they could think of. She did not (of course) give them any more information than she wanted them to have. She would have to remain a mystery -- a mystery that was pivotal to the ambitions and dreams this nation. The General Cheng frowned as he remained vigilant of the child's every emotion and expression -- there were few, if any. It was clear after a half hour's time with the girl that there were few constants, all of them simple, and non-negotiable.
   First and foremost was the girl's belligerent insistence that as little about her be known as possible. To this end, she had given them no information about herself, other than her abilities and her offer to use those rather frightening talents towards serving the interests of the Chinese. Secondly, no information regarding the demons who sent her would be divulged, and because of that, no reason why either she or her superiors would also want Shinji Ikari dead was given, either. This, however, was not as important a question as it might have seemed, as there were no illusions among the darker circles of politics that Shinji Ikari, the Evangelion Project, and NERV were smiled upon by every denizen on Earth.
   Cheng Bao now found himself wishing that he was not a general, who sat behind the lines of fire. This particular mission, to be carried out with the utmost of care and perfection, would not be led by a general. Thus, it was the general's job to plan this mission, and to make sure that it was the best and most well layed out mission. What was so special, honorable, and frustrating was that for this particular endeavor, no casualties would be tolerated. If there were any, the ultimate fault would be Cheng's. Yet, despite this heavy weight to be thrown upon his shoulders, there was no denying the giddy sensation in the pit of his stomach, realizing that if he performed well, General Cheng would be the spearhead of the Chinese offensive. And the mere fact that the Republic of China would have him design and take charge of the first step in the journey towards China's ultimate victory was already quite honorable. But then, this woman had come to him as well, when she could have chosen to meet with any one of the other military men of his stature just as easily, if not with more ease. General Cheng was known for his caution and extreme dogged determination to meticulous detail, so asking him to a meeting with a random person was a request that would take extremely long to yield an answer. So why was he the one who was notified of this child's willingness to aid in his country's cause? Was he chosen for a specific reason, or was he just fortunate? Unanswered questions such as these frustrated the general because he would, of course, have to employ this mysterious girl in his plan. She was a raging variable in the equation towards total success, and so if anything were to go wrong with the battle plan Cheng had begun concocting, it would most likely be as a result of this variable's actions.
   Not only that, but the general simply did not trust this girl, and not only because he could not determine all that he wanted to know about her. In fact, the only reason the Chinese government would be agreeing to most of her terms of service was due to the long delay in the execution of the great Chinese crusade that would sweep through Asia. The people's fervor, burning at first, was running out of flame. And so, the mere prospect, the mere possibility, that the one obstacle in the republic's way could be eliminated, and still leave the nation time to check all its designs and machinations before it would inevitably have to rush forward, Cheng knew that as a tactician, as a patriot, as a citizen, he had no choice but to pass the discovery of this little wonder to his superiors. Whoever was pulling the strings of this girl knew an awful lot about the situation in the red nation. If it was supposed to be a comfort that this furtive party, which knew enough about the nation to ruin it should it reveal its knowledge, was offering to support the Chinese cause, it was not working for Cheng. Objectively, he did not want to do this mission, but what choice did he have?
   If the hush-hush aid did not comfort Cheng Bao, it certainly did the board. And really, could China refuse? They could not afford to provoke an potential ally which could slice off its balls at any whim, at least, before Chinese intelligence figured out who was behind this Japanese child. A child who had, within a day, become the center of all the highest Chinese officials' attentions. And that was another thing. While Cheng was cautious and almost always pessimistic before taking action, he knew that there would be men like him higher above on the chain of command. So why did it seem as if Cheng was the only one thinking wisely? Did some of the dogs above know something he did not? Precious few had the honor.
   All these questions began to rage and boil once more, but the general forced himself to swallow it, and listen quietly in his seat. The head of this board, an old man who was the first chief commander to come from the Chinese's relatively young intelligence branch, directed most of the questions towards the girl. While Cheng did not like the man much and knew little about him, he respected the intelligence officer's professionalism and abilities. If anyone could pick out weakness or hint of malice in the child's facade, it would have to be this man. But even he seemed overly eager to be done with this meeting and accept the child's open terms for supporting China.
   Has the world gone mad? Cheng Bao wondered to himself. Or have I just become paranoid from anticipation? There was an old Chinese proverb which told of a frog in a bucket, believing it was the king of the universe, until one day the bucket was emptied and the frog tumbled out, only to realize how small and close-minded it had been. General Cheng of the Republic of China's military branch hoped that his country was not that frog. There were people out of the circle who knew too much about his country, and the men inside were refusing to look outside that circle. Whatever the case, Cheng knew what he would do.
  The Chinese had good intelligence around the Evangelion Project. They were in on Rainbow's existence easily, as they were still officially a member of the United Nations, after all. It was just a matter of the highest leaders of the republic being more loyal to his own country's commanders and people than to the rest of the world. The Chinese, though without a NERV branch of its own, knew enough through official and under-handed means about the war with the Angels to understand a great deal of the workings behind the A.T. Field. There were ways to deal with this creature who boasted such a supernatural talent. And to make sure that he gave whoever would take on this crucial assignment the space needed to deal with this variable should it go wrong, Cheng would have to speak with the leader privately, who would relay his message to the rest of the men who would be assigned to this task. And as for the girl, the general would see to it that her orders were simple, so that anything out of the ordinary would be easily identified and, hopefully, somehow dealt with. Some of the high officials had already begun favoring this new arrival, but General Cheng Bao would not. He would put his men first. The girl, after this run, could perish for all he cared. In fact, for security reasons, he hoped that she would.

Author's note: This was a long time coming, not because it was a particularly difficult chapter, but because of the circumstances around my life. I will look back on this chapter, and I think that some things may be added, as many scenes have been removed or deleted for various reasons. I hope chapter four will not be nearly so problematic.