(Zuko) To Catch A Thief (25) In Pursuit

Chapter 25

In Pursuit

It took several days and a handful of spectacular breakouts to convince Zuko that you were in good enough condition to go about your normal activities. His vigilance in regard to your health was kind of sweet, albeit annoying.

The guys had promised to help you get back into shape, since all that time lying around in pain had robbed you of a substantial amount of muscle mass. In this state, you weren’t sure you could defeat anyone on board.

That really irked you.

A handful of crew members were gathered at the bow of the ship that morning when you emerged from the barracks, gazing out at the sea while they chatted amongst themselves. You squeezed between Bo and another soldier, squinting out at the sunny horizon.

“What’s so interesting?” you asked when all you saw were a few dopey-looking birds.

“Nothing much,” Bo answered with a shrug. “Just evil incarnate.”

You squinted harder and out of the corner of your eye you spied the vague outline of a ship. Just noticeable over the sun-streaked waters, it was little more than a speck on the edge of visibility. Joy. In your mind, there was only one person worthy of the title Bo had bestowed upon them, and you weren’t the least bit happy about it.

“Why did no one tell me the she-man was tailing us?” You demanded, feeling extremely put-out. And to think, all those hours stuck in bed could have been put to use plotting your revenge!

Bo put up his hands and backed away, looking only slightly guilty. “Whoa, there! Zuko’s orders, Fei. He figured you’d get all wound up and hurt yourself, and I have to say I agree with him.”

“Traitor,” you muttered, but without any real venom. While you certainly wouldn’t have hurt yourself, you probably would have demanded to turn around and attack Azula head-on. You did owe her a dagger through the stomach, after all. “I’m assuming we’re going to stop running with our tails between our legs at some point,” you continued sourly. “So what’s the battle plan?”

“That,” said Zuko, “is yet to be decided.”

You and Bo made a space at the rail as the prince, looking rather tired and pale, joined the group. Worry gnawed at you when you studied him closely, and you couldn’t help but be concerned. Throughout your lengthy recuperation, you hadn’t thought about how this mess had affected him. Zuko certainly hadn’t seemed any different, but surely he must be devastated to have his hopes of returning home dashed forever. And with his own father setting a price on his head and his psychotic sister hunting him down, well, that would mess anybody up. For some reason, you wanted to hug him.

“Do we get to use the catapults?” you asked instead.

Zuko rolled his eyes, some of the tiredness fading. “No, Fei. We don’t.”

“Not even a little?”

“Bloodthirsty girl,” he remarked with a sigh, and you were delighted to see half a smile on his face. “We’ll be out of fuel by the time she catches us,” he continued, “and we would be outmatched. Azula’s ship is faster and packs more firepower. She never did settle for less than the best.”

“There’s a port city half a day ahead,” Bo interjected. “We can fuel up there and-”

“It won’t matter,” Zuko cut in. “She’ll catch us regardless.” He considered the spot on the horizon for a bit, absent-mindedly stroking the edge of his scar. Then he said with narrowed eyes, “I think our best bet is to dock at Port Tsung and abandon ship. The town is a Fire Nation stronghold, so our crew will be able to join the soldiers stationed there.”

“Wouldn’t we be arrested?” you asked curiously.

Zuko shook his head. “The soldiers under my command can’t be lawfully accused of treason. Azula can do nothing to them, even for fighting against her. It is the commanding officer who will be held responsible.”

You didn’t like what he was implying. “I hope you’re not planning to play the hero and get yourself killed while the rest of us go free,” you said, your tone making your displeasure clear. “Because that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Zuko met your glare with a raised eyebrow. “I agree. I have no intention of getting myself killed.”

“But you’re still going to do this,” you stated.

“Yes.”

You sniffed. “Iroh will never let you go through with it.”

“It was Uncle’s idea in the first place,” Zuko countered.

Now that you hadn’t considered. Was the old man nuts?

“But this makes no sense,” you protested. “Even if the rest of us get off scot free, you’ll be arrested and imprisoned!”

“Then it’s a good thing,” Zuko replied, “that we have a professional thief with an annoying propensity for breaking out of prisons on our side.” He looked you in the eyes. “Unless, of course, you feel your abilities aren’t up to the task.”

“Right,” you said dryly. “After you couldn’t keep me locked up for five minutes this week, you doubt my skills.”

“I wouldn’t go through with this plan if I had even a shred of doubt,” Zuko said, and you grinned widely at the compliment. “And since Azula is several hours behind us, whoever takes Uncle and I into custody will have to keep us alive until she gets there. We should have plenty of time to make our escape.”

“You know, you might actually have a brain in that head of yours,” you said in wonder.

Zuko didn’t rise to the bait.

*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

The welcoming committee at the port was startlingly similar to the last one, but you knew somehow that Zuko’s boxers wouldn’t be providing a convenient escape this time around.

As soon as the boarding ramp was lowered, Zuko and Iroh made a stately descent into the waiting throngs of Fire Nation soldiers. Quite hesitantly, as if reluctant to approach the two legendary figures, a handful of men slunk forward to arrest them.

You watched all of this with interest, noting the way Zuko regarded his captors with a bland sort of indifference.

You had taught him well.

Fully uniformed –helmet, mask-thing and all- you led your comrades down the ramp and, upon arrival, continued on unharassed. Zuko was right. Nobody paid you any attention except to direct you toward a building where you would be assigned to a new commander. They had the two infamous outlaws in their grasp and couldn’t be bothered with the underlings.

The command center was uncomfortably crowded as the last of your companions filed into it. A hassled-looking officer with bags under his eyes surveyed the lot of you with a frown.

“Just what I need,” he growled. “More misplaced recruits clogging up my desk with paperwork. Which one was it this time, eh? Incompetent generals getting themselves killed right and left –don’t they know I’ll have to deal with the reassignments?”

Nobody dared voice the thought that perhaps reassignment duties were the least of the deceased generals’ worries. Then again, you had never been able to keep your mouth shut.

“Actually,” you said, unable to help yourself, “our commander was arrested for being a traitorous ex-prince, and we’re the mentally-challenged delinquents who were too stupid to go AWOL when we had the chance.”

The officer blinked, and then looked straight at you through narrowed eyes. “Ah, the prince’s crew. Yes, that makes sense. You, the one with the smart mouth –you sound like a foreigner. Are you certain you’re Fire Nation?”

“Oh, yes,” you assured him, grinning behind your faceplate. “I’m Fire Nation, born and bred, tried and true. Couldn’t you tell by the caustic attitude and superiority complex?”

Somebody nudged you ungently from behind and you caught Leffen’s whispered, “Shut up before you get yourself killed!”

The officer –who apparently had no sense of humor –scowled. “So, we have a jokester on our hands, do we?” He pulled out some parchment and jotted a short note, signing his name with a flourish. “You will do well under Admiral Shou Tsung. He has quite the reputation for…taming unruly recruits.”

You accepted the reassignment notice from him quickly, eager to carry out your mission. You had a narrow time frame in which to work, after all. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness, sir, I truly do,” you said, bowing as you backed through the cluster of soldiers toward the door. “And I look forward to my attitude adjustment.”

The officer’s reply was lost as you emerged into the hustle and bustle of the port town. Soldiers marched everywhere, running drills, carrying messages, and sparring with each other. It seemed that everything should have been in a state of chaos, but here order reigned supreme. Nobody set a foot out of line. The place kind of got on your nerves.

Before you could so much as glance in the direction Zuko and Iroh had been taken, you were yanked to a stop. Oh, this was so uncalled for. Your amusement was rapidly turning to irritation with all of these unexpected delays.

“Hold on, small fry,” a soldier said as he gripped you by the collar of your uniform.

Sorely tempted to hurt him, you glared through your faceplate and responded, “You want to let go before I break your hand?”

The soldier simply grinned –quite handsomely you were startled to find –and tugged you toward a large building.

“A tough guy, huh?” he said. “We’ve got plenty of jobs for feisty newbie’s like you.”

“I’m on disability,” you said flatly.

The soldier snickered. “Disability my foot! Your only problem is your height, shorty.”

You nodded in solemn agreement. “I know. I used to be taller, before the shark took my legs.” Tapping your thigh, you said, “Prosthetics, both of them.”

Roaring with laughter, he pushed you unceremoniously into the huge building. “Put your mouth to rest and work those muscles instead,” he told you. “There’s cargo to be unloaded in there, and it’s just the job for you. I’ll be keeping an eye out, so don’t try to weasel your way out of it.”

He closed the door in your face and you sighed morosely before thumping your head against it. What a pain. Zuko was a pushy jerk, but now you were beginning to think it was a Fire Nation thing and not just a personal quirk of his.

“You by the door! Get to work!”

Turning toward the obnoxious voice, you took in the cavernous warehouse and stacks of wooden crates, along with the couple dozen soldiers unpacking them. A tall bald guy –the supervisor –was glaring at you unkindly.

Heaving another dramatic sigh, you ambled over toward the boxes, on the lookout for another exit. Nope. Not a one to be found.

Now, how to escape without causing suspicion? There had never been a prison that could hold you, and one cute guard standing outside an unlocked door would not pose a problem in the least. The trouble was coming up with a distraction that nobody would perceive as anything other than an accident.

You peered about. No one else in the warehouse was wearing their helmet and mask, and you removed yours with utmost reluctance. No need to stand out more than you already did.

“You over there!” the supervisor shouted again. “Don’t make me repeat myself, soldier! Get to work!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bundle,” you muttered, but low enough that he couldn’t hear. Contrary to popular belief, you did not, in fact, have a death wish.

Considering one of the large crates, you moved to pry off the cover in hopes that its contents would be of some use to you. The wood gave way with a sharp crack and you tossed it aside carelessly, immersing your hands in the sawdust that filled it to the brim. You grasped the first object you felt and withdrew it, only to blink repeatedly in confusion.

It was a long cylinder, a foot in length and a hand’s span thick, white with a short string protruding from the bottom. Turning it over in your hands, you poked and prodded it, shook and sniffed it. Then you licked it and determined that it definitely wasn’t food. Ugh. Nasty.

A tall guy with a ponytail and goatee was transferring a bunch of these objects onto a cart a few feet away, and you sidled over to him.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a poke. “What do these things do?”

He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a scowl. Jeez. Did all of these people have sticks up their butts?

“What, are you stupid or some –oh. Oh.” His eyes widened as he got a better look at you, and his attitude underwent a drastic change. Leaning casually against the stack of crates, he said with considerably more warmth, “The name’s Natsu, miss. These here are fireworks, and valuable ones at that. Only the best for princess Azula.”

“Fireworks?” You had heard of them, bright flashy things that lit up the sky with bursting flowers of light. They had always sounded spectacular.

“For the celebration tomorrow,” Natsu said with a nod. “Princess Azula sent a messenger hawk ahead of her ship with orders to arrest the traitors upon their arrival and make preparations for their execution.” He shook his head with a rueful grin. “She plans to execute them at dawn, for some reason. Myself, I’d bring them back to the Capital and do it there, but I’m sure the princess has her reasons.”

Hmph. Dawn. How cliché.

“Just between you and me,” Natsu added in a conspiratorial whisper, “I think the lady’s completely bonkers.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” you replied off-handedly, and at that moment your eyes fell upon a beautiful sight. You grinned widely.

There, leaning against the pile of crates, was the mother of all fireworks. Over a foot in diameter and only a few inches short of your height, it looked innocent and plain in its simple white covering.

The soldier cleared his throat. “Ah –erm–you wouldn’t happen to have a date for the celebration, would you?”

Pulling the gigantic tube into your arms, you gave a distracted “Hm,” and freed one hand to rummage through your pockets.

“How about you go with me, then?” he said, having taken your grunt for a reply. “I’ll make sure you have a real great time. I know all the best places to eat, too.”

Giving up your search, you chewed your lip for a second and turned back to the chatty fellow. You honestly hadn’t heard a word of his blathering. “Hey, could you give me a light?” you asked suddenly.

Caught off guard, he immediately said, “Sure,” and made a tiny flame appear at the tip of his index finger.

“Thanks,” you said, and grabbed his hand, yanking it down to touch the flame to the dangling fuse.

“Hey! What are you doing?” he yelped as the fuse lit with a little burst of sparks.

You straddled the firework, locking it into place with your knees as you braced yourself. “I’d stand back if I were you.”

Then there was a muffled WHUMPH as the tube fired, and you didn’t even feel the recoil. The ensuing explosion, however, made up for any lack of force.

One second the wall was there, and the next it was not. Debris sailed through the air and a multitude of screams rang out as everyone dived for cover. Sunlight streamed into the warehouse through the gaping hole, slicing through clouds of smoke that billowed from the smoldering timbers of what remained of the wall.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was overkill.

Naw.

Couldn’t be.

You cocked your head at the scene of destruction, and then gave a little shrug. For a non-bender you thought you handled fire pretty well.

Everyone was in a state of hysteria as you made your way out through what was once the front door, and nobody even thought to stop you. With panic abound, you sauntered calmly in the direction of the prison while cries of “Fire! Put out that fire!” and “Holy mother of Ozai!” rang out behind you.

A groan cut through the pandemonium, and you glanced down to find that you had stepped on someone’s hand. The soldier who had so rudely thrust you into the warehouse stared up at you dazedly.

“Oops,” you said, and grinned wickedly. “My foot slipped.”

*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

The detainment cells for high security prisoners ended up being several flights of stairs underground in the stereotypical bowels of a dank and shadowy dungeon.

The guards never stood a chance. Even the dozen padlocked gates you had to pick to get down to the lowest level set you back only a minute or two. You didn’t know how much time had passed since you had come ashore, but you didn’t have any to spare.

“Took you long enough,” was the welcome you received when the two prisoners came into view.

“I’d like to see you do better,” you told Zuko, who looked mighty unconcerned with his predicament. Trussed up in chains from hand to foot as he reclined against the wall, he still managed to look princely.

“I’m sure Fei got here as quickly as she could,” Iroh intervened. He smiled, as unperturbed as Zuko. “Life has a way of placing unforeseen complications in our paths.”

“Talk about it,” you complained as you set to work on the cell door. “You Fire Nation people are all the same. Pushy and annoying, wasting my time with reassignment papers, dragging me off to unpack boxes…”

“I like to think we are simply hard workers,” Iroh remarked serenely.

“Well Zuko certainly is,” you said as the door popped open. “He has to work really hard to be such a dork.”

Zuko scowled. “Very funny,” he said. “Mock the guy chained to the wall. Your concern for my well-being is astonishing.”

You strode across the cell to the prince and surprised him when you placed a dainty kiss on the tip of his nose. His dumbfounded expression was priceless.

“Don’t gape like that,” you said. “It makes you look stupid.”

When he remembered how to blink, Zuko cocked his head to the side as a slow smirk spread over his face. “Why is it,” he asked, “that you only kiss me in life-or-death situations?”

Iroh perked up at this. “Oh?”

You were certain they could see your magnificent blush even in the dimly lit room.

However, before you could become too embarrassed, a familiar voice drawled, “How touching.”

You and Zuko froze, eyes locked in identical expressions of alarm. Then you turned, and Azula caught your gaze instead. Her red armor blazed in the flickering torchlight, and you could honestly say it was the most terrifying thing you had ever seen. Azula couldn’t have chosen a worse time to arrive.

You were out of time.

She proceeded calmly down the remaining steps and paused on the threshold of the cell door, positively dripping with smugness. Her amber eyes were cold fire.

“I see you managed to survive,” she noted dryly.

You shrugged. “Not my fault your aim sucks.”

That, apparently, was not the right thing to say.