Chapter 1: Cruel Angel's Thesis (part 1)

Justin Traveler had been a Boy Scout for 5 years as a child. Ever since then, he had tried to live by the motto of that organization, "Be Prepared." Throughout his college years, and career in the army, he had done everything in his power to live by that motto. For years he believed that any situation could be dealt with if you prepared for it properly. Tonight he was having his doubts.

There isn't much you can do to prepare for a man wearing black combat fatigues and a bird-shaped mask coming at you with a harpoon.

His attempts to fend off his assailant physically had failed. He wasn't the young man he used to be, and the masked man had a distinct advantage over him in hand to hand combat. In panic, he fled to the second floor of his house, where he lived alone.

He realized too late that he only cut himself off from the exit. The masked man ascended the stairs slowly, scraping the harpoon along the sides of the hall. Justin understood that this tactic was only intended to intimidate him, increasing his panic and making him easier to kill.

He had to admit it was working.

With nowhere to turn, and no hope of fighting off the attacker, Justin quickly gave up hope. He knew he was probably going to die, and decided not to face death on his knees, begging for mercy.

As the masked man reached the top stair, he leapt out to tackle wasn't surprised that the attacker swung up the harpoon and drove it into his chest. It hurt more than he expected.

He had trouble breathing. It was like someone had poured boiling water into his chest, setting all of his nerves alight with agony and clogging his airways.

He looked into the eyes of his killer. He wasn't sure if he was expecting remorse, sympathy, or some other emotional response, but he wanted to learn something about the man who was killing him.

He received no indication of any human soul. Just the blank, heartless expression frozen onto the mask. He died without seeing any indication that the being who killed him was a human.

The killer pulled out the blood drenched harpoon. He carved a rudimentary cross in the wall above the corpse, and over to the side he wrote a single word, a signature of his handiwork.

"Sachiel."

Shinji Ikari hated push-ups. They made him feel tired and weak, which he felt pretty frequently at the FBI Academy. He barely passed his physical tests, and only because of extra work he did in his spare time. If anyone ever questioned his dedication to getting this job, all he had to do was invite them to watch what he did while everyone else was resting after a long day's work.

Asuka had seen his personal exercise regimen once when they were dating. She spent a full ten minutes laughing at him, before challenging him to a wrestling competition and winning, like she always did.

A woman entered the room and said, "Hello, I'm Misato. May I have a word?"

Shinji rose off the floor and wiped the sweat from his brow. He was glad that he was out of breath from the exercises, because at least he had an excuse to be. He tended to have difficulty composing himself around attractive women, and this was no exception. He noticed she had an FBI badge, and wished once again that the dress code was a bit more strict. It technically only required Special Agents to wear "formal clothes," which most people interpreted as a suit and tie. Misato somehow worked a questionably small blouse, a candy red jacket, and high heels into that definition.

"You look familiar," said Shinji between gasps for air.

"I work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our office is in the other side of the complex. We've probably seen each other in the parking lot."

"I'm planning on applying to the BAU once I finish training."

"I know, that's actually what I want to talk about. I could use your help on this case I'm working on. Think of it as an extra credit assignment." Misato gestured to the doorway. Why don't we talk about it while we drive. We'll have some time to kill on our way to D.C."

Shinji knew that a Special Agent's salary could afford a better car than the one Misato drove, a blue, beat-up sedan that was probably at least twenty years old. It was literally falling apart. Parts of the frame were held together with duct tape.

As they pulled out from Quantico, Misato said, "I'm fine with you calling me Misato, but you should probably know most people will refer to me as Supervisory Special Agent Katsuragi."

Shinji was surprised. This woman held a much higher rank than she let on. Most S.S.A's were stuffy bureaucrats and borderline control freaks. Misato had visible beer stains on her jacket.

"So what do you need my help for? And why are we going to D.C.?" Shinji couldn't think of anything important enough to warrant the circumstances, but trivial enough that they would need a trainee who had nearly dropped out twice.

"One of the cases I'm working on right now is a serial killer in West Virginia. A man has killed three people with what appears to be a harpoon, two men and one woman. Each victim was stabbed in their lungs and drowned in their own blood. All three had military backgrounds."

"That doesn't sound too out of the ordinary." As grisly as it was, Shinji knew the BAU dealt with stuff like this every day.

"The killer left messages at each of the crime scenes, either carved in the walls, or written in the victim's blood. At each scene there has been a crucifix, some Hebrew symbols, and the word 'Sachiel.' Sound familiar?"

"You can't mean someone is copycatting the Seele murders?"

"I hope it's just a copycat," sighed Misato. "Otherwise we have to face the possibility that the cult has returned after fifteen years. The last fucking thing the public needs is knowing there might be another Angel on the loose."

"You think it might be another Angel?" The word "Angel" had a special significance to Shinji. As a child, the name brought fear, but also a sense of frustration. They were his childhood bogeymen, as well as what tore his family apart.

Misat said, "Well, why don't you tell me what you know about the Angels, and think about whether this sounds like one?"

"Seele was a neo-Kabbalistic cult that frequently engaged in violent crime, and the highest-ranking members were called Angels," replied Shinji. "They took the names of angels from Jewish lore, and wore masks while committing their crimes. Most of them were serial killers, the most prolific being a sniper named Ramiel, who turned out to be a retired marine named Shelby Jacobs."

"Mostly right," said Misato. "But they weren't all serial killers. One of them, Armisael, or something like that, was a rapist. Iruel was a computer hacker, and one kidnapped and murdered a child."

"Leliel." said Shinji, looking off into the distance. "I remember that case. She called herself Leliel."

There was a long pause. The Leliel murder had given him recurring nightmares all through third grade.

"So where do I come into it?"

"As you can imagine, the director has a personal interest in the case. He's spearheading a massive investigation, and he wants you to be a part of it.'

"My father wants me?" asked Shinji incredulously. "I don't think he even know I joined the Academy. He spent the last two decades ignoring everything I did. Hell, Seele was part of the reason he stopped noticing me! What could he possibly need me for?"

"I don't know, he actually hasn't told me," said Misato with a sad smile.

Sachiel entered his bedroom and removed his mask. It had been two days since he had last killed someone. He removed his mask and smiled at a picture of his leader. Although the prophet had died years ago, his teachings lived on through him, and his actions. He said several prayers in a whispered tone, then he made a call on his cellphone.

He got a response after the first ring. "This better not be who I think it is."

In a monotone voice, Sachiel said, "It's not too late, Tabris. We need your help."

A similarly monotone answer came from the other end of the line, "I don't know how you got this number, but never call me again. I'm done with you fucking lunatics."

The other end went dead, leaving Sachiel alone in his room. Except Sachiel was never alone. The prophet was always with him, as long as he remained faithful.

The office of Gendo Ikari, director of the FBI, was decidedly spartan. Most people who entered were surprised at how few decorations were displayed, caught off guard by the fact that someone with such an important job kept so few commemorations of his work. Shinji wasn't surprised at all, as Gendo allowed few decorations or memorabilia of the house he grew up in, especially after his mother died.

"What do you need with me, Mr. Director?" Shinji couldn't bring himself to address the man as his father. His job had always come before his position in their family.

"I want you to conduct an interview of a person by the name of Kaworu Nagisa. He has been relocated in Washington D.C. as part of the witness protection program."

"How does he fit into the Sachiel murders?" asked Shinji, trying with every fiber of his being to remain polite around his father.

"Kaworu is an alias given to him when he was relocated fifteen years ago. His real name is Tabris Kihl."

In spite of himself, Shinji gasped. "You don't mean..."

Gendo nodded. "Yes, Tabris is the son of Lorenz Kihl, the leader of Seele. We believe he may have useful information regarding the new murders, but he has refused to share it with every agent I have sent. I think you might have better luck."
"Why is that?"

Gento allowed himself a faint smile. "Despite your different pasts, I think you might be able to relate to him and the way he grew up. Both of your childhoods were drastically affected by Seele's crimes."

Genod stood up and walked out, grabbing some files as he left. Shinji stood alone in the office, watching his father leave.

It was a short drive from the Hoover Building to Kaworu's apartment. Misato dropped him off, and directing him to the nearest Metro station before she left. Shinji knocked on the door. He could hear classical piano music from inside. After a few moments, he heard a soft voice say, "Come in, the door's open."

Shinji stepped inside, and the sound of a piano arrangement of Beethoven's Ode to Joy filled his ears.

"I'm with the FBI. I was hoping we could talk." yelled Shinji over the music. It stopped, and and boy about his age entered the room. He had pale skin, almost white hair, and bright blue eyes.

"Did you enjoy my playing? It's my favorite song. I think it might be humanity's finest achievement."

"I thought it was a recording," said Shinji in surprise. "That was you? Are you a professional?"

Kaworu smiled. There was something about his face that almost glowed when he smiled.

"No, I'm not a professional. I'm a sociology major at American University."

"I majored in psychology before I joined the Academy," said Shinji nervously. "I also play the cello, but i don't get to practice very often due to all the training."

Kaworu raised an eyebrow. "So you aren't a full agent yet? Interesting."

Shinji blushed and fumbled for his temporary badge. "How rude of me! I didn't introduce myself. I'm Shinji Ikari."

Kaworu laughed to himself. "Your father has a very strange sense of humor, Shinji. Despite whatever we have to talk about, I must say that we would miss a very good chance to defy destiny by not becoming friends."

Shinji said. "Okay... I guess. You seem like a nice enough guy, and we don't live too far away from each other. But first we really should talk about some stuff. Official stuff."

Kaworu sighed. "You're here about the murders, aren't you. The killings performed by some harpoon-wielding madman calling himself Sachiel?"

Shinji answered, "Yes, they think he might be copycatting the Angel killings."

Kaworu said, "I would like to help you, I really would, but I said everything know about my father and his associates years ago. All of the Angels are either dead or captured."

Shinji knew he should press harder, but didn't want to. As childish as it sounded, he didn't want to hurt Kaworu's feelings. "There are lives at stake, Kaworu. Anything you could tell us would help."

Kaworu said, "I'm sorry Shinji. You should probably go. I hope we meet again under different circumstances."

Shinji left the apartment and ventured out into the rain-drenched city. He was determined of two things. First, he also wanted to see Kaworu again under better circumstances. Second, he would find the monster called Sachiel and keep the evil that had robbed him and Kaworu of their childhoods from hurting anyone else.

To Be Continued.