All The Way Here

Mello flicked open his mobile telephone and his eyes widened as he heard what Hal Lidner had to report. Signalling frantically for a pen and paper, he began making notes, then wrote in big letters, "Hire us a car, now!" The last word was underlined several times and Matt raced out of the door to do it.



Half an hour later, they were sitting in traffic heading towards JFK airport. Mello was driving; his conversation peppered with expletives at their lack of progress as each light turned to red. Nevertheless, it seemed his rage was an automatic mask, because his eyes remained narrowed with focus. He was turning over information in his mind and making connections.



Beside him, Matt fought down a deep sense of glee, trying to force his mind to pick over practicalities instead. After days in the Wilderness, this was a concrete lead. Near had woken up or, at least, one of his members of staff had. It sounded as though he had shared everything he knew to date without asking for a single thing in return, which was as worrying as it was exhilarating. Did that mean that Near was up another cul-de-sac? It it mean that he was reaching out for help?



Matt caught himself at it again. Self-preservation and focus dictated to him not to worry about Near\'s mental state. Even if the boy no longer had the best military, intelligence and civil services to call upon, he was hardly alone here. As far as Matt could ascertain, there were at least FBI agents in Near\'s inner circle. He\'d cope. In fact, when you looked at the bare facts, he was probably better equipped than they were. A hacker and a Mafioso with a laptop and a few guns didn\'t really look like much. Matt smirked, adding the caveate \'on the face of it.\'



"What lane are you in?" Mello barked. The offending Cadalliac moved across and they slid forward a few feet.



Matt saw the airport fall into view. Forget Near. If they were going to end up on an aeroplane, they were going to need nicotine replacement lozenges, tickets, somewhere to stash the guns on their person and the equipment back at the studio had to be packed away and transported. Concentrate on the real things to push down the twist of anxiety at another long journey without nicotine. It wasn\'t important. Tailing the Japanese and catching Kira was important. Matt reached for his cigarettes, then spotted again that ridiculous sticker. No smoking in the hire car. They forbid that with a little picture of a lit cigarette. Sadistic bastards. They wouldn\'t go to a Weight Loss Class and scatter around pictures of someone eating a cake. No, but it was ok to torture the nicotine junkies because smokers are the scum of the earth and...



"Matt, check that pad, what gate is it?"



Matt didn\'t need to look. "Fifteen." Mello swerved and drove them onto a thankfully less congested sliproad. They approached the departure lanes, following the taxis in. There was a drop-off spot to the left and the blond turned the car into it in a jerking movement that threw them both forward. Neither was wearing a seatbelt. "Learn to drive, will you?"



"Look." Mello peered through sunglasses at the couple of Japanese gentlemen starting by the door. Both seemed a little lost. "That\'s Mogi and Aizwaka."



"Nice to finally put a face to Aizwaka."



"Matt, get out and tail them while I park up." Mello was cursing his lack of forethought on not having Matt drive. "I need to know where they are going."



"Right." Matt reached for his laptop on the back seat and ran for the smoking area, three feet from their targets. Lighting up, he could not only see, but hear them perfectly. Neither so much as glanced at him. Matt smirked, falling successfully into his role as average-looking geek chainsmoking like someone who was about to be deprived. The perfect cover.



It was half an hour before Mello met him in the loud, echoing lounge. Matt was tapping away into his laptop, playing some bright on-line game and Mello came close to hitting him, before noticing their proximity to the suited men. Hurriedly turning, the blond\'s hand came up to further cover his face and he stared pointedly at his lover. Matt just shrugged then levelly, but loudly let out a stream of French profanities. Mello\'s eyes widened, but the Japanese didn\'t react. Matt went on to speak blatantly racist comments citing events in Japanese history, still in French and again soliciting no reaction. "Ok." Matt smiled serenely into Mello\'s increasingly stunned and raging face, continuing in the French language. "They don\'t speak French, but we do." He gestured. "They are fluent in English."



"What\'s going on?" Mello responded, also in French, silently crediting Matt with a spark of intelligence there. "But let\'s go further away. They might know me if they get a good look."



They moved over to where a vending machine offered a reason for being there as well as something to hide behind. "My Japanese is a bit rusty." Matt said, though they both knew that it wasn\'t. Ever since L\'s death and the belief that Kira was in Japan, every Wammy child had become fluent in the language. "They are going back to LA, where their headquarters are."



"Still?" Mello glanced sharply across as the police officers. "I haven\'t been in LA for ages!" Smugness passed over his features and he bit off a square of chocolate. "When?"



"They are on the eight o\'clock flight and so are we." Matt held up his hand. "Keys."



"Where are you going?"



"To close down our base and arrange the move to LA." He opened the laptop\'s carrycase and deposited it inside, then slid his hand into a side-pocket and withdrew Mello\'s passport. It was exchanged for keys. "There\'s a note inside with our flight details. I\'ll call you from the car with the rest of what I overheard."



"Thank you, Matt. You did very well." Mello gazed pensively at the officers.



"I know. Shocking, isn\'t it?" Matt snapped shut the case and stepped in front of the blond. "Gun."



Mello blinked, but handed it over. "Be back as fast as you can."



"I will."



Matt fled into the blessed open air and lit a cigarette. Airports just felt way too much like game over for him. He promised himself to chain smoke from now until he had to enter the gate and fuck the car hire fascists.