The night sky pooled endlessly above a succulent, milky blueish-purple. Patchy, roiling clouds moved through like splashes of cream in a cup of dark blueberry tea. The stars may well not have existed, for all they could be seen, and if it weren't for the assurance of the GPS, Makoto would have sworn she was making her way around in circles, never leaving the city of Cuiabá; the suburban sprawl seemed to extend forever. Even when she finally made her way out of it, the only thing to really leave was the sight of the buildings themselves, the other signs of the city remained clearly with her. The land right outside the city she found to be highly cultivated, flat fields extending to the horizon in all directions. The noises of life were near nonexistent here. Makoto had not noticed how accustomed she'd become to those sounds until she came to where the encroaching presence of civilization hushed them. Strangely enough, with the suppression of jungle life and the masking of the stars, the drive felt lonelier than ever, and here she were closer to other people than she'd been before. There were even other people on the road, always coming clearly visible from miles away. Every time she saw one, she felt a tension that wouldn't abate until she saw twin red glows sinking away in her rear-view mirror. For one she was a new driver and still concerned that she might clip them as they moved by, no matter what past experience would suggest, and for another she suspected that the cloak-and-dagger nature of their activities were playing on her mind and making her somewhat more suspicious of anybody she met. Then she entered another section of urban development as she passed through a small city and passed through it into yet another featureless plain of plantations. It became darker out here again, though still quiet, and the highway led her to disconcertingly flat country. There was still domesticated land far to one side of the road, but around her was wild again. Not overgrown or forested, just quite flat with the occasional outcropping of trees. She shouldn't have been surprised that the entire country wasn't the same all the way around, but she was.
She started making her way north again, though, and things started to appear closer to what she had become used to. Once more it was forested on both sides, though there must have been yet more sprawl to the East, based on the glowing horizon. This was the most nerve-wracking portion of her driving shift; the light pollution played odd tricks on her. The fuzzy cone of the headlights was both a godsend and anxious frustration. On the one hand, they provided the only distinction between a road dyed midnight and the emerald shadow of the surrounding foliage, but they were also washed out enough by the permanent twilight that everything blurred together until uncomfortably close to her. Now and again another traveler would come around a bend obscured by darkness and appear to pop out from nowhere, always making her heart take a sudden leap to hold a nervous council with her tonsils.
If there was anything good to be said for all of this, she thought, it was that she was kept alert. The only problem with growing more comfortable behind the wheel had been growing too comfortable behind the wheel, which happened readily enough on long featureless highways. It approached morning as she approached the small city of Vilhena. As happens, it did indeed feel darker so near the dawn. Before she came into that next establishment of man, Makoto found herself oddly reassured by the sight of a storm rolling over the landscape to the west, the low cloud bank so far off that she could see it move quite swiftly. Occasional flashes forked to the ground, and if she listened carefully she thought she could even hear the growling of thunder rolling towards her. It was nice to see the Earth continuing its regularly scheduled activities, no matter how the artificial haze she crept through seemed to fight against it. She and Ami had agreed to change off after Makoto hit Vilhena, and she was starting to feel the strain of the drive once again. She wondered idly if it was easier driving during the day, but after that first night she'd taken they'd sort of fallen mostly upon her, and there were less people on the road, which was good for her. As tired as she was becoming, it took several seconds longer than it probably should have for her to process what happened next.
A sudden light assaulted her vision, making her blink and slow reflexively, though she kept going. She squinted in her mirror from whence the offending brightness originated, and uttered a startled oath as she came to recognize the unmistakably familiar red-and-blue pattern of flashing lights. Though she was certain she'd done nothing wrong, she felt a cold rush of adrenaline flow through her veins, and took a few calm breaths as she slowed.
"Ami-chan!" She said, loudly, turning to the sleeping girl in the back. The volume of her beckoning and what must have been significant alarm in her voice roused Ami quickly, and the pattern of lights further sped her awakening.
"Mako-chan? What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Makoto insisted, a defensive note in her voice, "I swear, you think I would chance speeding or something? Should we, uh, switch seats or something?" She asked helplessly. Ami considered, at last shaking her head.
"No, just sit tight, he can see us already and that would be like waving a guilty flag. I'll take care of this."
Makoto nodded mutely. The patrol car pulled up behind them and a figure stepped out and slowly sauntered towards them, obviously taking his time about it. He held up a flashlight and scanned it around the interior of the jeep. He fixed a stern look on Makoto, and started speaking rapidly. She looked back at him helplessly, unable to understand a single word he said, and from the looks of it he thought she was playing stupid, because his lips twisted into a frown. Thankfully, Ami spoke back at this point. Makoto wasn't sure what they exchanged, but Ami was suddenly translating for her that they were to step out of the jeep and put their hands on the hood. She gulped, wondering what was going on, but Ami looked deep in thought and Makoto didn't want to distract her from anything that could get them out of this mess. They stood with legs spread in front of the vehicle, and the officer moved to frisk them. Makoto had her gaze fixed on Ami's face, looking for any sign of reassurance, so she was in perfect position to see a sudden wide-eyed look of surprise in her eyes, and seeing the region the officer's hands were in when that happened, Makoto had a good idea why.
"Hey, watch it!" Makoto said warningly, before she remembered that he wouldn't understand her. He seemed to get the tone, however, and put a hand to the nightstick at high wast. She looked steadily in his eyes, though, and he gave her an appraisal, taking in her stature, as tall as he, as well as her breadth of shoulder and the dangerous menace in her eyes that belied any possible bluffing on her part. He frowned, and frisked her as well, though she noticed he did so swiftly and professionally. That didn't make up for anything, and she still had half a mind to teach him a lesson. She felt a brush on her fingers, and looked to see Ami's eyes entreating her for patience. He spoke again, and Ami turned about. Makoto took this as a sign that she could as well, and watched worrisomely as they exchanged. Ami looked the very definition of polite acquiescence, and after an apparent demand from the officer turned around to rummage in the glove compartment of the jeep. She returned with a few documents and a card, which Makoto assumed to be her driver's license. He looked through each in turn. Makoto saw his eyes light up and a grin form on his face as he did so, though she couldn't see what document it was that provided him such glee. He handed them back to her, suddenly quite amiable and polite. Makoto could not fathom his sudden reversal of behavior, but now he and Ami were carrying on like old friends. Ami offered him a polite bow, and he waved it away with good humour, walking back towards his patrol car and bidding them a cheerful farewell. Makoto raised an eyebrow.
"So...."
"I'll drive now, go ahead and get in the passenger side," Ami interrupted her. Makoto shrugged and walked around the jeep. Ami started the engine and they rumbled away, Makoto looking over her shoulder to see the officer drive in the other direction and turn down a side road she hadn't noticed, where he must have been lying in wait.
"What was that about?" Makoto demanded afterwards.
"He claimed you were speeding--"
"But I wasn't!"
"No, but he claimed you were, and was prepared to write a ticket all the same," Ami continued patiently, "It doesn't matter, though, as you're unlicensed and foreign. I, erm, politely convinced him that it was in his best interest not to."
"How did you manage that?"
"We're going to need to make a stop at a bank in Vilheno."
"Huh?" Makoto looked at her blankly, then recognition dawned on her, "Oh—ooooh. But, Ami-chan!" Makoto looked shocked.
"A little bribery is by far the lesser of the evils here, Mako-chan," Ami replied meaningfully.
"I don't know about that," Makoto frowned, "He stops us for no good reason, gropes you, and then walks away with ill-gotten money? I could have saved us the trouble--and would feel better besides--if I would have just given him a good bump on the head."
"And get a warrant out for the arrest of two foreign Asian women traveling on this highway, complete with license plate number and vehicle description?"
"Ah...," Makoto didn't have any good answer to that.
"A little bit of paper can make travel surprisingly easier in some parts of the world with some of the right people, Mako-chan. In this case, it might have been worse were we to have found one of the moral, upstanding members of the police force; you would have been enjoying a nice ride in the back of his car about now," Ami sighed, "I'm not very comfortable with it either, but we can hope that even a corrupt lecher like him has children to spend that money on."
"We can?"
"No, not really," Ami answered brightly, and Makoto couldn't help but smile.
"I'm going to bed," she laughed.
"I'll wake you when we reach the Madeiras."
"Madeiras?"
"The largest tributary river of the Amazon, we'll have to cross it at the city of Porto Velho."
"Gotcha."
"Okay, let me stop so you can--Mako-chan!" Makoto half-climbed, half-vaulted into the backseat of the moving vehicle, to Ami's alarm, "Don't do that!"
She chuckled and stretched out for sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------
"Big."
"Very."
Makoto sat back against the side of the jeep. Other vehicles, for whom the drivers were used to this sort of thing, sped by on the road behind them, but Ami had pulled over to the side and awoken her friend. Makoto was glad she had, as they looked over the coursing expanse of water. Makoto had seen rivers before, Japan had them in good supply. She had seen pretty blue, sparkling rivers. This was not one of those. She had seen--had been on--impressively swift rivers, coursing over rocks and spraying up in frothy fountains, this was not one of those. What this deceptively calm-appearing, muddy brown river had, however, was immensity. Lakes were large, the sea seemed endless, but this amount of water, all seeming to move with singular, unstoppable purpose, was impressive it its own way. The air seemed even heavier here somehow, the bank mud smelled earthy and rich Makoto loosed a low whistle.
"And you said this was just a tributary?" she asked.
"Yes. The largest tributary, to be sure, but still a tributary."
"Right."
"We'll cross the Amazon itself right before Manaus."
"I'll look forward to it."
While they looked, Makoto had the nagging suspicion that something was missing.
"Ami-chan, there's no bridge."
"We're taking a ferry. Bridges over all the big rivers in the delta area would be rather expensive."
"Ah, right."
They moved out a few minutes after, making a short stop at a shop along the bank so Ami could ask the locals about who would be able to ferry a vehicle for them. Ami looked somewhat concerned when she saw the ferry, while Makoto knew exactly what to make of the "worthless rust bucket!" Ami said that it had been highly recommended, though, and that it had apparently had better fare and schedule than the other, more reputable-appearing ferry's in the area. They saw other passengers boarding without apparent worry as well, so they decided, with some harbored misgivings, to continue. It was a good enough sign to Makoto that the vessel still floated as the jeep slowly pulled onto it. However, while they stood at the edge during the twenty-or-so-minute trip, they both patently refused to lean on the guardrail and set their tires back onto solid ground with noticeable relief.
Makoto drove now, and settled in for the long haul. They were about ten hours away from Manaus now, and most of it on one long, straight highway that she drove down with a certain sense of unease. To be sure, there was plenty to be concerned about, especially with the brand-new concern of corrupt authorities lurking to detain her. What she thought most about was the upcoming stay in Manaus. Makoto didn't relish being confined once again to a hotel room while Ami went out and played the part of the infiltrator; it was maddening how restless she had felt the last time, or rather, how useless. And worried. For herself, of course--were something to happen to Ami, Makoto was fairly well defenseless out here, her only real recourse at that point to call the others on her communicator and wait for reinforcements. But more so for the event that would make that necessary, something happening to Ami. Makoto could think all she wanted to about how the both of them were unrecognizable and that nobody would see them as a threat, but when it came to her friend she suddenly lacked conviction in that reasoning; also, that reasoning didn't account for thieves, muggers, murderers, rapists, or any number of those other delightful aspects to mankind that were quite apart from political avengers.
Wind coursed over her frowning lips and she licked them as they dried. The chap stick was in the backseat, but Makoto wasn't overly concerned about her lips right now, though the object of her concern was in the backseat as well. She glanced over her shoulder at Ami's calmly sleeping face and felt so profound an ache as to be physically manifest, her hands tightening on the wheel and a grimace stretching her lips. She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, and with frustration. Why in the world, she asked herself, did everything seem so simple when it was a handsome stranger who made her feel all funny inside, while everything became so complicated when it was her best friend? Or perhaps, she wryly observed, that had more to do with the latter making her feel far funnier than the former had.
Casting her eyes restlessly over the dashboard she lamented, not for the first time, that the vehicle they were using lacked a radio. The novelty of driving and the foreignness of the country had ceased being engaging quite a while ago. While she was worried about what would happen after they arrived, Makoto was simultaneously glad that they would finally be stopping somewhere for good, or at least they didn't have any plans right now for traveling afterwards, except to go back home.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Finally, the end was coming into sight. Or rather, as she determined a goodly time later, only the river was. The memory of the Madeira remained fresh in her mind, and she soon concluded that it also distorted her judgment. The term "tributary" came into full context as she approached, seeing the Madeira feed itself into this new behemoth. Untold other shining, serpentine bodies undulated from the jungle to join as well; creating some joyous gathering of life where the buzz and chirp and screech of insects and birds and animals rose into the air with renewed vigor from the thick, luscious growth of this vibrant place. There also, kin to the great river in sheer size, stretched the city of Manaus. Capital of the Brazilian state of Amazonas, so Makoto had been informed, it hugged the bank of the river like a crown atop its head, spires of glass and steel rising majestically and set with gems made of reflected sun. The sight enchanted Makoto and drew her eyes while she drove alone on the highway.
A flash of movement back to the front caught her eye, and she snapped her head forward to see some small, furry shape skitter onto the road and stop to stare at impending death zooming towards it. Panicking, Makoto did what many would do, and slammed her foot onto the brakes. The jeep had excellent traction, so did little more than skid partway to the side, but the sudden cut in motion threw Makoto forward and locked the seatbelt, which cut painfully into her shoulder and waist. She heard the tires squeal in protest and numerous thumps from the back, the seconds after seeming deathly quiet in contrast. Makoto hadn't even made out whatever it was that caused the whole mess, although there was a good chance she wouldn't have recognized it even if she had gotten a good look. Realizing belatedly that she was parked sideways across both lanes of traffic, she slowly limped her way to the shoulder. She heard shuffling from the backseat as she did, and looked back after she had parked. The backseat itself was bare, the floorboard covered with two heavy packs. One of which was moving as Ami struggled to emerge from underneath it. Makoto, chagrined, helped her heft it and set it on the seat. Ami sat up and shook her head and, upon seeing the other's embarrassed, apologetic face, fixed Makoto with a look that spoke volumes, most of them entitled things like "Peeved" and "Displeasure" in bold, bright golden embossed script on severe black leather covers.
Ami drove the rest of the way in, though she was mollified some amount after Makoto explained what had happened.
"It's pretty enough to have woken up for," Ami commented with a forgiving smile. Makoto, watching Ami watching the scenery, of course agreed.
They found a much better ferry service to take them over the Amazon, which was a significantly longer trip. Makoto shook her head in amazement as they passed a small island in the middle of the river that looked to be about as wide as the Madeira had been. They moored at the ferry dock and drove down the ramp, at which point Ami started looking for a good hotel, and Makoto started worrying again, though with Ami's apparent concentration on her task she didn't feel comfortable saying anything yet. She finally found a location to her liking. It included an attached parking garage which provided the only really feasible parking in the area. Makoto grabbed their bags and waited in the lobby to save them the trouble of lugging the things all the way from the garage, and Ami went to park. After they had gotten a room and walked into it, slinging their bags to the floor and both falling face-first on the bed, Makoto discovered in herself a far, far more pressing concern than what might come later.
"I'm taking a shower," she announced.
"Ah, no fair! I was just about to say that," Ami pouted. Makoto opened her mouth to voice a bright solution, liable to halve the time it would take them to shower separately, but thought better of it. Unfortunately, the "thinking better of it" bit of the matter was up for debate--heated debate--in her mind for quite some time after. Nevertheless, she took the first shower; she was not going to give that up.
"Oh my," Makoto breathed luxuriously later, a shiver running up her spine. An honest-to-goodness shiver, brought on by a room exquisitely chilled by a smoothly running air conditioner.
"'Oh my,' what? Oh, my frozen nose?" Ami laughed. Whatever she said, Ami also lay on the bed garbed only in her pajamas. Damp hair splayed out across her crossed arms. Makoto's own hair still hung in limp, frizzing curls down her back. Fatigue had gripped her with surprising suddenness, a hot shower and soft bed quickly draining the will to do anything. She did, however, know what that would mean tomorrow morning, and so had fished out a brush. Suppressing a yawn, she moved her arm back. Fingers enclosed her wrist; she glanced back.
"Would you mind?" Ami asked, moving as if to take the brush. Makoto nodded wordlessly, letting go. Ami started to gather the sodden mass and begin gently pulling out the tangles that had formed.
"You look tired, Mako-chan."
"Isn't that a shame?" Makoto replied, "You're the one who needs to be getting a good night's rest, but you just woke an hour ago."
"I need?" Ami slowed her brushing.
"You've got your work cut out for you here, Ami-chan. Did you see the size of this city on our way in? It's like somebody put a regular city on a rubber sheet and stretched it way out."
"True, we may have some trouble. At least there's no press for time."
"'We?'" Makoto echoed, "I don't see what trouble I'm going to have, besides trying not to go out of my mind from boredom and worry."
"Oh, worry?" Behind her, Makoto failed to see the smile playing over Ami's lips and dancing behind blue eyes.
"Of course I'll be worried!" Makoto said hotly, "Twiddling my thumbs safe and sound here while you're out there doing who knows what; no guarantee that you'll answer the phone when I call because you don't want to speak Japanese in public, waiting the rest of the time on pins and needles for you to call me. You know, just what am I supposed to do if something were to happen to you? I wouldn't even know about it! I don't know what I would do if something like that--" a catch in her throat broke her sentence, and she coughed to cover it up. In that brief amount of silence that she afforded herself, Makoto noticed a gentle bubble of amusement coming from behind her.
"What's so funny?" she demanded, twisting her neck back.
"I'm sorry that you had to worry about me so much," Ami smiled warmly, "but you'll be coming with me this time."
"You mean I'm not going to be closed away in the room until we're done?" Makoto questioned, grateful but surprised, "What's changed?"
There was a tug on Makoto's scalp as Ami self-consciously twirled a dark lock of hair about her finger, "The city changed. Manaus is one of the main centers of tourism here. Two more foreigners aren't going to make any difference. Besides... you weren't the only one worried when I was out alone before, I'll feel better with you nearby." Abashed, Ami ducked her eyes. Makoto didn't reply. She watched the delightfully bashful expression on the other's features long enough to realize that she was staring, and turn back around.
"Ah, well, that's good," she said simply, feeling Ami work with her hair again. Her friend had eased out the tangles and now pulled the brush through in long, slow strokes. Much as Makoto enjoyed the attentions, her eyelids grew weighted and every blink became a chore to reverse, until between one closing and opening Ami's hands were linked around her stomach.
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry, you must be sleepy," Ami said apologetically.
"Oh, no, Ami-chan, I---" she cut herself off with an implacable yawn that pried her jaws and refused to be swallowed. She finished with a sheepish grin, "Maybe a little weary."
"I'll quit playing with your long, curly hair then," Ami said, spilling dried, silky strands through her fingers, "But I just may continue to be jealous of it."
Makoto widened her eyes. "Jealous, of this mess? I remember reading somewhere that only the very cutest girls can have short hair," Makoto raised her hand to Ami's temple to playfully ruffle a few of her blue locks, then let her fingers linger curled upon her cheek, smiling gently. Ami blinked at her, cheeks slowly suffusing with color over the course of a few seconds, and Makoto's hand twitched away in surprise.
"Y-you don't say," Ami said shyly.
Makoto awkwardly fumbled about for the right words. "I think it's true." She wished for a more poetic assurance, or at least a more confident one. To her quiet astonishment, Ami greeted her words with an almost girlish smile and shrug. Makoto wondered how much of her surprise showed; Ami turned away from her gaze and stood. She turned off the room light, inking the room in deep indigo and black and pale gold as the city lights leaked in around the half-drawn curtains.
The soft bed barely shifted under Ami as she settled back in. They slid under the sheets and the secure weight of the comforter.
----------------------------------------------------------
Something icy cold pressed against the back of her neck. Makoto twitched involuntarily forward, hunching her shoulders against the unwanted sensation. Sleepily, her first thought was of Luna trying to wake her. Then she realized that the object was still there, and it had none of the cat's gentleness. It was cold, hard, and unmistakably metallic, and she heard the quick breath of people in the room who were not Ami.
A man's voice, gravely and hoarse, spoke aloud in the room. The voice dripped smugness, and she guessed that he knew she was awake, given away by the change in her breath. Slender fingers interlocked with her own for a reassuring squeeze, telling her that Ami was awake as well, without chancing antagonizing their visitors. The thick, stubby barrel of a small pistol jabbed repeated against Makoto's back, accompanied by a string of unpleasant-sounding, if unintelligible, words.
Ami spoke up next to her, softly replying. Makoto was by no means an expert, but the language sounded just slightly different to her, not so... nasally as she remembered from their time in Brazil thus far. She wondered whether it was some different dialect. They continued talking back and forth, and the man holding the gun to Makoto seemed to become more agitated. The other, for Makoto swore that she'd heard another breath in the room before it had gotten so noisy with talking, had yet to speak. The barrel was removed from her neck, and she felt the tip of it drag over her shoulder. Through her trained detachment to the threat, she felt a cold flush of fear, followed by a glowing spike of anger as she realized he was probably turning the weapon to Ami.
"He's going to turn on the light," Ami told her, falling back into Japanese, he warns us not to move, his partner has a weapon trained on us as well."
"Ami-chan, what's going o--" a rough voice barked out a clear warning to stop her chatter, and Makoto pursed her lips. The light flickered on, revealing two swarthy men who looked to be in their later years standing in the room. They wore the uniforms of the hotel staff, and held two small arms steadily at them. Makoto swallowed with a dry throat as she observed both of them had nothing to obscure their faces. Criminals of any kind, whether these were the enemy she sought or not, didn't leave behind witnesses to identify them. Makoto met the speaker's flinty, dark eyes with her own undisguised hostility.
He spoke again, gesticulating with his free hand. "Hands where he can see them," Ami translated, slowly bringing her arms out from under the covers. From their laying position, they raised their hands to the top of the headboard and were made to hold them there. Ami glanced over at her and spoke further, "He also says that you have a respectable lack of fear of them, being only a simple tourist girl suddenly faced with two armed men in her sleep."
Makoto filed that away to feel bad about later; in this case, she also wondered if it really mattered. She imagined that even had Ami's story held water with them, they wouldn't have had any qualms about removing them anyway.
He spoke again, laughing, then paused for Ami to translate. His eyes were fixed maliciously on Makoto's, and he was clearly enjoying this little game, watching her face as his words were related to her. She turned her head slightly to look at Ami as she spoke. Her blue eyes were filled with revulsion.
"He says that it doesn't really matter what I say, though. If we are here to cause trouble for them, there's a chance that we'd never admit it. It we're just innocent tourists, it's a shame, but... he says, at least we're a couple of pretty, ripe young tourists."
The implication was clear. Somewhere beneath a welling of horror from a less worldly part of her heart, though, Makoto felt a surge of triumph. Her mind had been searching fruitlessly for something to do should these two want to just shoot them where they lay, but if they were determined to try and have their fun first, that would mean getting closer. Evidently she had been right about one thing, even she, clearly tall and strong for most women, looked fairly nonthreatening when she wasn't tossing lightning about. That might be the one thing about to keep them alive today. She briefly considered trying to screw her face up into some semblance of fear, but kept up her genuine front of repugnance and loathing for the distasteful pair. He only laughed, though, and gave Ami one last thing to translate.
"'Fine by me,' he says, 'I like to play rough, and scared little waifs aren't very good at that.'" Ami spoke calmly, but Makoto recognized the danger in her gaze. The frosty element had left her eyes, and now coursed through them like a river engorged and unstoppable with thawed ice. Ami didn't anger easily or often, but this was apparently enough for her. The man walked towards the edge of the bed. He changed grip on the pistol, holding it with his left and jabbing it into her gut through the covers in clear warning. His tongue flicked over an oily smile, and he raised his hand to her face, cupping her chin, then cheek. Roughly, he pressed two of his fingers against her lips. She pursed them at first, resisting. He increased the force, bruising her lips against her teeth and making them feel as though they might split. Briefly, she wondered how long she might survive, and in what kind of condition, after a gut shot. Enough to dispatch him and the other and keep Ami alive, she somehow doubted. Swallowing a rise of bile in her throat, she parted her lips for his calloused hands and he swirled them sickeningly in her mouth, manipulating her tongue and stroking the sides of her cheeks. Hate continued to emanate from emerald eyes, but he had stopped caring. She longed for, prayed for some kind of slip, preferably before he went too much further, and to her hastily concealed gratitude she got it. His gun hand relaxed, and slowly started to migrate back towards himself and the sudden activity in his trousers.
Makoto sensed Ami stiffen up beside her, and she carefully moved her foot over to tap Ami's, hoping to somehow convey a reassurance. She focused her attention on his face, as though all she could think about was being angry at him, not noticing his other activity. She felt the barrel slip over her stomach, and immediately acted before he had a chance to consider his mistake. She ground down with her teeth, hard enough to to feel an infusion of salty copper in her mouth, and brought her hands down to trap the man's trapped limb in an arm-lock that she forced unmercifully until she heard a loud snap.
Expecting any moment to feel the shock of a bullet in her side, she glanced over to see Ami rolling off the bed and into the other man's legs. He fired one shot downward before falling over, and Makoto's heart stopped. Forgetting the man slumped in agony over her lap, she pushed him off and leaped over the side of the bed to join in the tangle of limbs that he and Ami had become. He tried ferociously to fight them off, his flailing arms and legs scoring a few painful blows on the two girls, but Makoto managed to find his his face and, unable to think of anything cleaner and more appropriate, punched him repeatedly until he became a little more docile. Ami found his gun and held it to his temple as he lay groaning, blood seeping from his nose and lips. Makoto cautiously ventured to the far side of the bed now, but found the other fellow still cradling his arm. He still held the gun, but Makoto was on him before he could release his ruined joint and ready the weapon. She gave the injured arm a cruel twist and the gun fell from his suddenly nerveless grasp. He didn't scream, just hissed in pain. Makoto might have felt a grudging admiration for that, if she hadn't seen so many of his other qualities recently.
"What now, Ami-chan?" she called. Makoto's breath came in deeply, and evenly, though her stomach was clenched almost painfully tight with adrenaline and fear and fury, "Do we call the police?"
She met Ami's gaze over the bed, and the other woman winked slowly and deliberately at her.
"Probably so, Mako-chan. That's not what I'm going to say next, though." Ami spoke in their language again. An uncharacteristically rough tone edged into her voice, and she capped the performance with a harsh laugh.
"What did you say?"
"I said that the police were probably corrupt and in their pocket, and wondered aloud how we might best dispose of them." Her voice held that same tone, and it took Makoto a startled moment to remember that such things transcended language; she'd used that to her own advantage earlier.
"Do you think the police really are on their side?" Makoto asked gruffly, trying to get into the act.
Ami chuckled darkly. "No, they're likely decent officers here to protect and serve the citizens."
Makoto nodded slowly, "So that is the plan?"
"More or less. I think we could stand to ask them a few questions first."
"Ah, but if they think we're going to 'dispose' of them anyway...."
"We're going to see how much further our new thespian skills can take us. Mako-chan, would you do me a favor and transform?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, Makoto had to suppress a giggle at Ami speaking politely with such an abrasive voice. She complied. The feeling of lightning in her veins and filling her heart was a welcome confluence to the anger in her breast.
"Move him over here, let's get them together."
Sailor Jupiter moved him--none too gently--over to his companion. Ami stood and walked with designed arrogance to Jupiter's side. Though having no experience with them herself, and certain that Ami did not either, she thought that her friend held the firearm with a decided air of menacing command.
"Hold up a hand and glare at them. Smile wickedly, if you can manage it."
Jupiter managed, somehow, and Ami spoke to them. She spoke lowly, and at length. The men grew more and more concerned looking, by turn bringing hands up to clutch at their throat, their stomachs. Their eyes later blinked in uncomprehending horror, and the one with two hale arms clutched the the junction of his legs and whimpered shamelessly.
"Most people are quite frightened of lightning, and what they believe it can do to them," Ami noted. Sailor Jupiter resisted the urge to glance sidelong at her, wondering if she really wanted to know what Ami had said to them. As her friend had observed, they were very much terrified by whatever electricity-induced terrors Ami had promised, and babbled and rambled seemingly endlessly, Makoto unable to pick out a word. Ami listened intently, however, and asked a few pointed questions. Smiling in satisfaction, she turned to Sailor Jupiter and nodded shortly and barking a rough order in the language before translating it for her. Ami turned her back to the men,"Lights out for these two, if you would. I promised them a quicker demise if they cooperated, but do keep them alive."
Jupiter gave them both measured blows to the base of their skulls, and checked their eyes for consciousness. She saw Ami getting dressed, and with a little reluctance was at her side in a moment, changing from her pajamas as well.
"So now what?" Makoto asked.
"Is there a laundry drop nearby? I would prefer that we have no connection to these two, and just drop an anonymous phone call."
"I'll go check."
Makoto went into the hall and looked around. She failed to find anything so enjoyable and anonymous as a laundry hamper, so they made do with stashing the pair in the stairwell. Ami also grabbed a bottle from the mini bar in the room and splashed its contents liberally about them. She grimaced at the price tag--somewhat ridiculously, Makoto thought, until it was translated to yen for her, in which case she sputtered a bit as well.
"Now then, I'm going to check us out. That shouldn't look to unusual, it's early morning now," Makoto glanced at the clock when Ami said that, surprised to find that it was past four in the morning, "I'll just say that we want to avoid traffic on the way to the river boat dock."
"Are we going to another hotel, then?"
"No, we actually are going to the river boat dock. Our guest told me where our enemy is quartered, it's around a smaller city known as Belém, near where the river opens to the sea."
Makoto exclaimed disbelievingly, "All the way back across the country!"
"Yes. At least we're not driving this time."
After a few frustrated moments, Makoto could only return Ami's sweet smile, "Good thing those gentlemen stopped by to give us directions. Saved us all kinds of trouble in the city."
The pair quickly finished dressing and packing and wandered downstairs, trying to appear sleepy, but excited like fresh-faced tourists. Feeling oddly guilty hurrying from the hotel in the middle of the night, Makoto followed Ami to the jeep, and they drove to the nearest dock. They learned a boat would be leaving for a dawn trip in less than two hours, so they settled in to wait on a small bench facing the river, eschewing the interior of the river tours lobby. There they kept both an eye out for other enemies, neither needing to speak the possibility that they were still being watched, and managed to find a peaceful enjoyment as the morning sun rose brightly above the city and pooled beautifully into the running river water. It wasn't long after that before their transportation arrived. It was a tall river boat; rustic, yet reassuringly solid and clean-appearing. Just like something out of an old movie or book, which was probably part of the business's appeal. The boarding ramp lowered, and Ami and Makoto were the first to board today. They put their things in the small bunk room they were directed to. Makoto felt restless still, knowing that she should probably get some more rest, but having already gotten enough to be wide-awake. She told Ami that she was going to the deck, and was pleased to find her friend by her side. They stood at the rail and watched the other travelers board, and enjoyed the first exhilarating period of travel together in dawn's light.