#[i have never more violently despised a villain I've created]

[kohakuhime]

The Reluctant Guardian, ch. 21

You know, of all the villains I’ve ever had the misfortune of working with, Belmont has proven to be the worst of the bunch and frankly put I wish I could say we’ve seen him at his worst already.

We have not.

Disclaimer: this takes place post canon, and this refers to events that take place in an alternate verse. YGO and its associated characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi, and @mpuzzlegirl owns her OC’s that appear in this update.

“Did you find anything?”

“N-No sir. We searched the floor, and we checked the surveillance cameras. No signs of the intruder.”

Belmont tapped the desk idly. “Is that so?” he asked, staring intently at the speaker phone. His voice was casual, his expression calm and composed. Still, he could hear the audible gulp on the other end of the phone. “Do you care to explain how someone could manage to get to the top floor of a building without being seen?”

“W-We don’t have one, sir. We’re trying to figure out who tripped the silent alarms, but the system has been wiped clean.”

Belmont did not need to know how the alarms had been activated—it had never been tripped at all. He had known who was in the building the moment they had entered it, as the ring on his finger was still pulsing and throbbing angrily. Two of the children, so close…not just one, but two. And somehow, both of them had vanished as suddenly as they had come.

It was doubtful Dartz had simply brought them with him in his investigations. Yes, Dartz had been more active around his properties, but Dartz had done nothing but cursory investigations, never seeming to do anything more than look around and never staying longer than ten minutes. Belmont had cowed him so much that Dartz did not dare act out, he thought with a smirk.

Belmont’s smile faded. Dartz knew the dangers of actively interfering and out of some foolish sense of duty and responsibility would not endanger the children. Likely it had been an accident of some kind that had brought the children…but how had they vanished?

“Sir, while we were not able to find the intruders, we did find him on the floor.” The man on the screen turned, and Belmont’s lips thinned.

Ah. That’s how they did it. “Is he still there?”

“Yeah. We held him back. He’s outside the room.” He heard the sneer in the other man’s voice. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Belmont considered the options. He had one other appointment to keep, as his time here was incredibly limited, but he could spare a moment for this. “I would rather love to hear the explanation he has for his presence, as he isn’t allowed on that floor. Send him in, won’t you?”

                                           ++++++++++++++

Of all the Swordsmen, Raphael had been the only one who had brought the Nameless Pharaoh to his knees. Even Dartz had not managed that feat.

Raphael did not ever boast about that so-called achievement. He had treated it as a fact: he had been the one to drive the Pharaoh to his knees. And years later, it was not something he ever brought up. But he had, in fact, beaten the Pharaoh and he had been formidable in his own right. He had been Dartz’s right hand man, the one in charge of the Swordsmen, and the only one who had beaten back the Orichalcos.

If they thought they had Raphael subdued and under control, it was only because he had allowed them to think it.

The men who had caught him just outside the elevators had thought it had been because Raphael had been foolish enough to walk right into them. They knew Raphael was not allowed on the executive floor and so had brought him immediately to the conference room. Raphael had led them in the opposite direction, allowing Rowen to escape down a stairwell where the cameras had been malfunctioning. He also had his own backup plan to divert from the real reason he had gone to the floor.

While Raphael had been forced to wait outside the executive conference room, he had kept his outward appearance cold and distant; it wasn’t hard to affect nonchalance, especially since he had been made to sit down. It was a simple matter of folding his arms, crossing his legs, and forming a surly scowl on his face. Given his mood, that was easier than it had been in years.

Inwardly he had been silently panicking, waiting to hear if they had caught Rowen. Raphael could deal with many things—forced captivity, being constantly belittled, constantly threatened, and even the threat of having his soul taken. None of this was new for him. It had happened before, he could weather it again. But endangering the lives of his children…that was something he could not reconcile with under any circumstance.

Rules be damned, Raphael would not allow Belmont to get a hold of his son.

“All right, tough guy.” He was shoved to his feet by a man who could not be much taller than Valon. Raphael allowed the motion—he had learned early on that he was not allowed to retaliate. “Our boss wants a word with you.”

Raphael allowed himself to be shoved into the room, only scowling when one shove forced his shoulder to bounce roughly off the door. He knew Belmont was not here today, which meant he was speaking to a phone. They would be on even ground, then. Belmont couldn’t see his face to gauge his reaction, and Raphael would have to rely on verbal cues.

That wouldn’t be too hard. He knew exactly how to handle Belmont—he had plenty of practice when he had been living with his uncle.

“He’s here, sir,” said the other man.

“Ah, good. Raphael, how have you been?” Belmont’s voice was jovial, as if he was talking to a good friend he hadn’t heard from in a while. Raphael’s face twisted in disgust. “Have you been faring well?”

“As well as can be expected, considering I’m a prisoner,” Raphael retorted, folding his arms again. He kept his voice neutral, allowing only the smallest part of his anger channel into his words. “I’m guessing business is going well for you.”

“Oh it is. And prisoner? Why, as a consultant you have the run of almost the entire building! However…” Belmont’s voice changed, something cold buried beneath the light-hearted tone. “I do believe we had an understanding about the top floor, hm? So why were you up there today, Raphael?”

“I followed the yellow brick road but forgot to take the left at Albuquerque.”

“Raphael, good man, I do believe we also discussed that sense of humor of yours as well.” This time there was a distinct edge in his voice. “It seems you want to go straight to the point. What were you doing on the executive floor?”

“I came here because I had a question. I understand you don’t deem me intelligent enough to ask questions, but every so often I’ve been known to defy expectations,” Raphael replied flatly.

“Don’t play coy with me, son. You and I both know that if you had a question you were to direct it to Turner, who is in the building at the moment. There is no reason for you to be on the executive floor and you know it.” Now there was a warning and something dangerous in the other voice.

Raphael shrugged, allowing the motion to carry into his words. “So you think Turner knows more about the Orichalcos than you?” he asked, skepticism coloring each word. “Good to know that the man running the operations doesn’t know what he’s doing. That inspires so much confidence.”

“You are deliberately testing my patience, Raphael.”

“It was an innocent question, sir.”

“Lying does not become you. I know you weren’t up here and risking everything you hold dear just to ask a simple question. Do not seek to make a fool of me.”

“I should take this opportunity to point out that paranoid delusion is a very common side-effect to prolonged exposure to the Orichalcos. I can’t help you too much with the delusion part you had that problem before I got here, but the paranoia is certainly starting to show itself.”

“Raphael.”

Raphael could not allow himself to smile, not with armed men around him to tell on him, but he spotted at least one of the guard’s lips twitching. “Yes sir?”

“If you are quite finished with your significant lapse in good judgment, your question?”

Raphael sobered. “The Orichalcos is taking souls without warning. It’s not even allowing people past the trial of the stone and you’re rapidly running out of pawns to throw away. I personally couldn’t care less if you run out of employees—it just means less people running around with the Orichalcos and we both know how I feel on the subject.Thought you should know.”

“Raphael, it is your job to determine why the Orichalcos is not working—I suggest you figure it out on your own, as you have experience with it.”

“With all due respect,” Raphael said, only just barely tempering the disgust in the word ‘respect’, “I only used it. That doesn’t make me a qualified expert on how it works.”

“Well then, I suggest you earn your specialty in it. After all, whether or not you live depends on how useful you are to me…as well as those who count on you to be useful.”

Raphael’s fists clenched at his side, teeth gritting. Of the six of them, Belmont had rendered two of his loved ones “useless”. That was how he was keeping the rest of them in line, not just by keeping them separated but by also holding the souls of those he cared about ransom. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said at last, venom coating every word.

“Good. Oh, and one last matter. Raphael, were you aware that we had an intruder today?”

And there it was: Belmont was testing him now. He’d have to redirect Belmont away from who it was, or at the very least from the realization that Raphael had actively helped his son escape. This was an area he was good at, as much as he hated admitting it. Dartz might have been a good wordsmith, but Raphael knew how to manipulate and direct conversations where he wanted them to go. He had done it with the Pharaoh, and he could do it again.

Raphael allowed a hesitance that lasted possibly seconds before replying, even injecting a note of hope into his next words. “There was?”

“Yes. Oddly enough, they were on the same floor my men found you in.” Belmont’s voice carried a barely hidden threat in his words. “So then, good man. That’s more than a little coincidental, don’t you think?”

“There’s the paranoia again,” Raphael said weakly. He cleared his throat for effect. “Sir, I swear it, I did not see anyone. I didn’t know anyone had gotten in, I didn’t hear any alarms. If I had I wouldn’t have…!”

He trailed off, and for the benefit of the men in the room he let his features go slack and he ducked his head. Let Belmont think that he was afraid of the consequences. Let the men present think Raphael hadn’t known about the intruder. Don’t let them think I helped Rowen escape.

Another long silence followed. “So you understand the severity of your transgression,” Belmont said softly. “Not so bold now, are you? Have you forgotten what is at stake—your, ah, personal benefits?”

“Don’t.” This time Raphael did not have to feign being subdued. “Don’t take it out on them. I’m the one who broke the rules.”

“Hmmm. What should I do then, Raphael? How are you planning to make this up to me?”

Raphael did not say anything. He did not dare—Belmont had proved to be wildly unpredictable and he didn’t dare give any ideas.

“I suppose you couldn’t have known beforehand. It is decidedly unfair to punish you for not knowing. I’ll forgive you…if you submit.”

Raphael stiffened, fury rising. He knew what Belmont was asking him to do.

“I’m waiting, Raphael. Or should I see about Alister instead? He’s such an obedient little doll now, I bet he’d injure himself quite readily if I asked him to.”

Raphael’s hands clenched, teeth gritting. Then, reluctantly, he took a knee and bowed his head. He took a moment to make sure he wouldn’t allow his fury through his voice. “I’m sorry for disobeying…Master Belmont.”

“Finnian, is he kneeling?” It wasn’t directed at Raphael, but someone behind him. Raphael didn’t look up, his anger burning white hot.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, Raphael, for that intruder…if I ordered my men to kill this same intruder the next time they set foot on my properties, would you object?”

This was a trap. If Raphael said no, Belmont could use that as a reason to kill Rowen outright the next time Rowen came here. If he said yes, it meant Raphael knew who the intruder was and it would debunk his lie. Raphael processed his options quickly and then spoke. “I don’t have a say in what you decide to do.”

“Good answer. This is not over by a long shot and you will suitably be punished. Rise, Raphael—I have orders for you.”

Raphael was hauled to his feet. He kept his mouth shut, anger still burning fiercely. He had sworn long ago that he would never again bow to anyone, that no one would ever be his master again—Belmont knew just how much Raphael despised being forced into that mind-frame again.

He had expected Belmont to start delivering his orders. He didn’t expect Belmont to say to someone else over the phone, “Be a dear and give them orders for me, would you? I have another appointment to keep.”

And then a voice, cold and soft and dead, started to speak and Raphael felt ice slide down his spine.

He knew who was speaking.

                                            +++++++++++++++++

“There you are, my darling. All done,” Carmon said gently, hands falling away from the buttons on Alister’s shirt. Button up shirts were easier to manage than pull-overs, she had learned. “You’re ready for the day.”

Alister said nothing in response, nor did he give any indication he had heard her. His head was ducked, hands folded in his lap.

Carmon’s eyes softened as she sat directly across from her partner, a hand going to his face to tilt his chin upward. Brown eyes met black ones and she held his gaze. Once it would have made her shudder and she still felt the chill as hollow eyes bored into hers. Now she searched the empty gaze, trying to find the spark in the dead eyes that signaled that her Alister was there, that he was fighting back.

She had done this every day for two months, hoping that one day there would be something of recognition in the dark depths. There had been nothing yet. Nothing but the endless dark.

Two months. It had really only been so long? It had blurred together so badly Carmon could hardly keep track.

Two months since they had been taken. Two months since Belmont had stolen Alister’s soul. Two months since she had last seen her son. Two months and no clear idea of what was happening beyond her floating prison.

Alister was fading. She could see it so clearly and she was worried. Without his soul, Alister’s body had no reason to fight for survival. He needed orders for basic functions, and despite her attempts at setting meal times for him Alister was losing weight. He had always been pale-complexioned, but now it was unsettling how little color was left in his features. There were hollows starting to form in his cheeks. Most of the time he slept, unless ordered to duel in this useless stupid tournament.

Carmon’s hands clenched tightly, eyes narrowing. Yes, she knew about the tournament even though she had not yet participated in it. She had been “employed” to work on entertainment, food and sleeping arrangements, and scheduling. Because she was so easily recognized, however, she was forced to remain in the cabin at all times unless ordered otherwise; Alister, who was silent and no longer had free will, was a more “reliable pawn”. All they had to do was put a mask and cloak on him and they had Miracle.

The name was poison in her mouth. Belmont had claimed it was because of the fact Alister was still up and walking after losing his soul. Both of them knew better, and if Alister had his soul and could speak he would be blindingly furious.

Belmont had known about Alister’s younger brother, about the story of how Miruko had been named. Miruko, the one his parents had called their miracle child. Anything to do with Alister’s younger brother was sacred to him and the fact Belmont had given such a cruel name as an alias to operate under…her blood burned.

Carmon spent the time in the cabin always talking to Alister. She knew the chances of him hearing her were so terribly slim. She still tried anyways—for all she knew, the man she loved was fighting his hardest to break free of the Orichalcos, and even if he was soulless Alister deserved the utmost respect she could give him.

“We need to think about getting you a haircut,” she said, idly playing with his hair. “It’s starting to look shaggy at the ends. I can see if they’d let us.”

She hesitated, searching the empty eyes. “Alister…can you hear—?”

There was a sharp knock at the door and then it opened.

Carmon’s gentle demeanor vanished, her features as of polished marble. She rose to her feet, putting herself between Alister and the men now filing in. She noted with grim satisfaction that most of the men were keeping their distance from her, their expressions wary and hands on their guns. When they had taken her they had forgotten she had trained with weapons and learned self-defense for her movies, but they had learned.

Good. Let them be afraid. She had given them every reason to be afraid.

She wondered why so many of them were there until she saw Belmont step into the room, and her eyes narrowed.

“Well, good morning, dear Carmon,” said Belmont with a smile. “And how are you today?”

She did not reply. She would not play this game with him. He was not her friend and she would not even try to play nice—not after what he had done.

“An answer, Carmon.”

One of the more burly men—someone newer who flanked Belmont’s left side—raised his weapon at her. Carmon did not bat an eye, instead folding her arms silently and with noticeable defiance.

“That won’t work, dear fellow,” Belmont said calmly. He did not seem to be terribly worried. He smiled at her, eyes dark and pitiless. “I have a more, ah, certain way of getting her to talk.”

Carmon saw his eyes shift to Alister, who was still sitting in the chair behind her. Before she could react, Belmont spoke. “Alister, come to me.”

As if being pulled by puppet strings, Alister silently rose to his feet. Carmon made a grab for him as he passed her, missing by only centimeters. Even if she had managed to stop him, she couldn’t order him to not go to Belmont—he could only process one order at a time in this state.

Alister stopped in front of Belmont and the other man smiled. “Be a good man and turn for me, won’t you?”

Carmon’s teeth grit, but the fear started to grow. Alister was too close to Belmont and a lot of guns—if Belmont did anything Carmon could not protect him. She watched, features impassive but heart furiously pounding, as Alister turned to face her.

“Truly fascinating, isn’t it?” Belmont said, and Carmon’s attention snapped to him. “He obeys so readily. I could tell him to dance and he would do it. Anything I tell him, he would do it without hesitation. A step up from the defiance of two months ago, isn’t it?”

He reached over and pinched Alister’s cheek. “He doesn’t even flinch at being touched, either.”

“Take your hands off of him.” Carmon’s voice held steel and her eyes flashed.

“Oh good, you’re speaking to me. Too little too late, though.” He glanced at one of his men. “Hand him your knife, won’t you?”

Carmon’s blood ran cold and she started forward. Two men instantly flanked her, holding her in place. She struggled, anger replaced with full on fear. Don’t hurt him. Don’t. Belmont, if you touch him I swear to God I will tear you apart, don’t you dare…!

“Alister, hold it to your neck please.”

The weapon rose, the edge settling at his exposed throat.

Carmon stopped breathing.

“See, it’s truly remarkable. He doesn’t even have a sense of self preservation. I could very well order him to slit his own throat and he would do it without hesitation.” Belmont’s smile was icy, his eyes glittering with malice. “So let’s try this again, Carmon. I said good morning and asked how you were. Answer me.”

“Fine,” she said at last, her words ash in her mouth. Her eyes never left Alister or the knife. “Put the knife away, Belmont.”

“I think not.” Belmont’s eyes were dangerous flints. “I’ve heard that you’ve been rather defiant and have been terrorizing my men.”

“Your men think it amusing to not allow Alister to rest or to eat. Soul or not, he’s hardly useful to you dead and your men don’t seem to understand that.”

“I don’t tolerate violence against my employees, Carmon, and you know that all too well. You’ve been asked to cooperate and so far any chance you get you deliberately disobey. How hard is it to respect my orders?”

“When you barely respect Alister, what would you expect of me?” Carmon’s voice shook with anger.

“I can be reasonable, my dear, but only if you work with me. All I ask is a guarantee that you won’t attempt to escape or call for help. Do that much and I won’t have to resort to this rather crude method.”

“You and I both know I won’t do it.”

“Raphael has been following orders quite well, as have Valon and Serenity. It’s a shame you can’t follow orders either.”

Carmon very much doubted any one of those three were following any orders from Belmont. It was likely a bluff, and even as much as she feared for Alister she would call that bluff. “Then why aren’t they by your side? If they’re your loyal lapdogs, they should be here along with you.”

Belmont’s eyes narrowed. “Very well then. I won’t lie—no point in doing so. You’re correct, but don’t get comfortable. I’m addressing the issue as of today, by any means necessary. I’m here to deliver one last warning in person. Either you start falling into line, or I get rather serious about breaking you. I have been very kind to you so far and you’re treating me with disrespect.”

“You have to earn respect before you get it. Nothing you’ve done has earned mine. You’re nothing but a coward and a bully—you will be defeated and I will be there when you fail. What, you think you’re powerful just because you took Alister’s soul? He’s lost it once, but we got it back and we’ll do it again.”

“And what will earn your respect? Sparing your precious child, perhaps. Or dear Alister,” Belmont added condescendingly, ruffling Alister’s hair. “He is fairly useless to me as it is, so maybe I should let this soulless husk die, hm?”

“I’ve already said it before, so let me say it again. Touch either my son or Alister again and I’ll show just how poorly trained your men really are.” Carmon’s voice was ice.

Belmont’s eyes were reptilian and cold. “Alister, give me the knife.”

Before Carmon could react, Belmont had taken the blade and pressed it against the hollow of her partner’s throat. Blood welled beneath the cut. “Maybe you should get the point of this conversation.”

And she moved.

She was out of the men’s grip, crossing the room before anyone could intercept her, and she pulled the knife away from Alister’s throat. She made to stab Belmont with it, the blade flashing for his leg. She couldn’t tell if she had landed the blow or not, but he moved fluidly out of the way and twisted the knife out of her hand. She cried out when she felt a sharp stab of pain through her wrist, the knife falling away.

But she had her fingernails and she used them, gouging them into his face and holding on with grim death. Belmont snarled and lashed out, throwing her into the waiting arms of the men behind her. “Hold her, damn you!” he nearly roared. “What do I pay you for? You can’t even hold a woman in place!”

“You need to learn to listen. I told you not to touch him.” Her voice was even, every word holding fury. “Don’t touch him again, you pig. I will not tell you again.”

Belmont was panting, a hand rising to his cheek to touch the bleeding wounds on his face. Carmon had caught him through his beard and when she had been pulled away she had held on, ripping out a decent sized chunk with it. She still clenched it in her fist. Good, she thought with vicious satisfaction. As an added measure she emptied her hand, the hair falling to the floor.

Belmont calmed himself, fury lining his features. “You seem to not want to learn, so I will show you who needs to listen. Dietrich.”

The large burly man stepped forward. Belmont seemed to contemplate the two in front of them before he pointed to Alister. “Demonstrate for her.”

Carmon knew there was no one on the floor where their cabin was. Too much risk of discovery.

It was why no one immediately came running when she screamed, fighting with everything she had as she watched the thug punch Alister hard enough to potentially break his jaw. He dropped to the floor without a sound.

“Stop! STOP!”

Another blow, this time to his unprotected ribcage. Another kick to his back and a vicious stomp to his legs. He did not resist, never once making a noise.

“STOP IT!” Her voice was a horrified shriek, punctuated by sobs.

“Enough. The lesson has been learned.”

Carmon pulled and fought, sobbing as she tried to reach where Alister lay on the floor. She cursed them in every language she knew, trying to break free. Had they broken bones? She had not heard any cracks or crunches, but she couldn’t tell from here. “ALISTER!”

“Hear me, woman.” Belmont’s voice cut over her sobs and her eyes went to him. “Silence your sobs or I’ll start again.”

Carmon tried, shoulders trembling. Her heart burned with black hatred for the man glaring at her. Dietrich would answer for this. She would make sure he did, along with Belmont.

Belmont waited until Carmon was relatively silent before speaking. “I loathe violence against women, but that also means I won’t hesitate to punish Alister in your stead. If I have to beat your so-called lover to death to make my point so be it. The next time you attack my men, they have express permission to break his bones and do as they see fit to him in order to keep you in line. Do you understand?”

“…I understand.” Her voice was furious and held tears.

Belmont clapped his hands together, feigning cheer. “Good. Let her go—we have a mutual understanding. She isn’t a threat anymore.”

I hope your beard never grows back where I tore it out, she thought savagely, and another flare of vicious triumph rose when she saw Belmont limping—she had landed the blow after all when she had gone for his leg.

But the moment the arms holding her relinquished their grip all the anger left her as her eyes landed on Alister. Carmon stumbled to where Alister lay and pulled him into her arms, pillowing his head against her chest and holding him close as she started to sob. She only barely registered everyone filing out of the room, all her attention on the man in her arms. His breath was soft against her neck and she felt something warm and wet at the hollow of her own throat—the wound was bleeding.

Carmon rose to her feet and practically tottered to the table, reaching for the cloth napkin and returning to Alister to tend to the wound. She would have to check his battered body for fractures. “I’m sorry, Alister,” she said, voice quivering. “I swear to you he won’t touch you again.”

There was no answer.

                                       ++++++++++++++++++                                              

Belmont was beyond furious. This day had not gone as he had planned.

He had hoped that he could at least shove his pawns into a more compliant stage, as on the ship in particular his “guests” were becoming more and more defiant. On land it was easier to manage any defiance or outbursts. Here it was not so easy and it was why he had come in person to deal with it. Now he wished he had simply kept Carmon and Alister on the mainland.

He couldn’t tell if Raphael had run into his son or not, and even so the amount of defiance radiating from Raphael in spite of the threats hanging over his head was enough to make his blood boil. He was not stupid, any time Belmont was in the room he had Raphael restrained; the first time he hadn’t Belmont had learned, after he had retaliated against the man’s wife and had nearly been punched. He had been lucky that Dietrich had subdued Raphael so quickly.

The same had proven true for Valon. Belmont had been unable to even speak rationally to the angry Australian past the furious roars and snarls and thrown fists even when he was restrained. Finally Belmont had thrown the man in a straitjacket and locked him up in one of his branches. That had been just barely a week ago and he would check on Valon after leaving here. With any luck, Valon would be more compliant.

While Yugi Mutou and Seto Kaiba had not yet resorted to violence, they were equally noncompliant and only willing to listen simply because he actually had their children imprisoned; Yugi’s wife had thrown a vase at him when he had tried talking to her. Of the Mutou children on the ship, two were highly problematic and the other two unwilling to even look him in the eye.

Alister was obviously unable to act out, and he had thought that by keeping Carmon with Alister she would be compliant for his sake. Clearly not, he thought furiously as the medic tended to his leg. The slice stretched clear across the top of his thigh, dangerously close to a very delicate piece of anatomy. While not too deep it meant limping until he healed, and his face…

He stared into the mirror sourly, noticing the bleeding gouges in his cheek and the large, bleeding patch torn from his beard. He would have to go to the barber to hide this blatant injury.

He looked at the ring that was angrily pulsing at his finger. He knew why—there was only one reason the ring ever reacted the way it did. Dartz was active again and on the move. He reached for the phone and dialed Turner’s number. On the first ring there was an answer and Belmont said coldly, “Watch for Dartz. Shoot him on sight.”

He hung up before he could get a response, twirling the ring absently around his finger as his anger settled. It was time to intensify his search, he knew. He had waited long enough.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a moderate sized shard of Orichalcum. The ring on his finger lit up and warmed, and Belmont curled the stone into the palm of his hand. He could feel the stone curled around his fingers pulse to life, a tiny heartbeat in his hand.

“I want the children found. Bring them to me by any means necessary. You are forbidden from killing them, but any other method is fair game. Now go.”

The stone went white hot, flaring to life. Belmont uncurled his fingers and the stone rose from his palm. He heard the startled gasp from the medic and he said coolly, “Open the door, would you? I’d rather it didn’t break the window.”

The moment the door opened the stone flew in a streak and disappeared, and Belmont didn’t need to watch it to know it had left the ship. “Before you continue, radio up to the captain. I want my personal helicopter here within ten minutes and ready to go. I have work to do on the mainland.”

It was time to crush their spirits.

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