Weiß Kreuz: The Band

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz and all the characters associated with it do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

A/N: This is set in an alternate Universe. Ken, Omi and Aya are in a rock band called Weiß Kreuz and their fans are being killed one by one. Yohji and Schuldich are working together as a part of a PI firm; can they unmask the killers before it's too late?

Full of twists, turns and a bit of angst…enjoy. Please, please review…

Chapter One: Killing Me Softly

Headline: Slasher Strikes Again

Young girl found dead with her throat slashed open

Crawford's fist smashed down on the table with enough force to jar the glasses resting atop it. He glanced at the paper willing the headline away but he knew it was futile. "Damn fuck it to hell! Another one!" he muttered angrily. He pressed the button in the intercom and asked his secretary to call in Manx. A few minutes later, the tall stately redhead came in with her red ensemble and her sock shod foot in high heels. Crawford stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Fashion…he thought wryly, what would they come up with next?

Without preamble, Manx started as soon as her rump hit the cushion of the chair, "I know why you called me. I saw the newspapers too."

"This has got to stop Manx, Weiß is your responsibility."

"I know that and I'm doing my best. I've halted their concerts for the time being and announced that there're going to be some changes in the band's structure. That should give us some time until all this dies down."

"That's not enough!" Crawford said, "the only reason the police haven't accused us outright is that there's no apparent pattern to the killings but most of them occur in the prefectures that the band Weiß has just performed in! Almost all of the girls murdered are Weiß Kreuz fans and were there in the audience at their performances!"

Manx sighed, "But not all of them. There are some victims who weren't real hardcore Weiß Kreuz fans and just last August we were there in Kainan having a concert and no one got killed. The police can't tie this on us!"

"It's still bad for the band's image and bad for my company. Weiß is one of the primary artist of Crawford Recording Label and if shit hits the fan you can damn well be certain that my company's going to be neck deep in the splatter!" he stood up and started to pace.

Manx turned in her seat in order to keep track of him, "I know it's pretty bad but what can we do about it? I've already doubled and redoubled the security around the band and the sites in which they perform but it's no use! It's not Weiß's fault if some psycho killer is out there following them and killing their fans at random!"

"That's just it! What if the fans get too scared to attend the concerts? What if they get too scared to buy the CD's? If word gets out that Weiß Fans are being targeted for death you can be sure there aren't going to be a lot of Weiß supporters left!" Crawford stopped in front of the floor to ceiling glass wall in his office and looked down at the busy Tokyo city streets.

Manx nodded, "Actually I've been pretty concerned about the band too but as I've said, I have tightened security around their venues. So far the band and everyone in the concerts and performances have been safe but we can't have every single one of those audience followed to make sure they're safe!"

Crawford turned to look at Manx, "The killer is somehow connected to Weiß. Even I can see that and I'm sure the police see that as well. If the media gets a hold of this there's going to be a huge scandal of horrific proportions. Stocks are going to go down…" he stopped talking, "I have a feeling the killer is somewhere near, a roadie perhaps, one of the crew members, even one of the band…"

Manx stayed silent, Crawford was a shrewd businessman with an almost mystic instinct. His stock market projections are always correct, his feelings or gut instincts were legendary and never to be taken lightly. It had propelled him to the top of the business world. Manx felt a chill come over her. Crawford said that he felt that the killer was somewhere close by…if that were the case then they were all in danger… "What do you want me to do?"

"Hire a private firm to investigate these killings and sort them out. I want them to investigate the crewmembers and be on hand on the next few concerts to make sure nothing untoward happens. They need to be good and professional and most of all…discreet…"

~*~

The man looked like he was preparing for a journey into deep space. He was laden with scuba tanks strapped to his sides and regulator hoses, lights and guidelines hooked to his harness. He was wearing eye protectors and all sorts of gears unheard of by the normal person. He was going to explore the systems of underwater caves below and try to see if he could locate some great treasure or discover an unseen part of the world that has long since been buried in water.

Yohji plunges nearly 21 meters down and swims 300 meters into the system of submerged caves. Not very many people take up cave diving, it is noted as one of the most dangerous sports. There are virtually no injuries in this sport, only fatalities as divers get lost or get trapped under the water and drown. To Yohji, it was irrelevant. As a veteran of the sport, with more than 300 dives under his belt, he knew enough to know that his need to explore must always be tempered with caution.

Yohji hesitated at a chimney-like shaft, a restriction not much wider than a Subaru tire. He could get trapped but the lure of what lay behind it was great. The small opening might lead into a larger one which might in turn lead to another whole new system of underwater tunnels to explore. He unclipped his scuba tanks and dragged one between his legs and pushed the other one ahead of him into the shaft. He dug his fingers into the limestone floor and pulled himself two centimeters at a time and muscled through the passage only to find him self into a dead-end hole no larger than a coffin.

"Fuck," he swore mentally. His face was pressed hard against a wall of rock and his feet were crunched above him. He tried to remain calm and think of a way out of the deadly situation he found himself in.

The only way I can get myself out of here is to make myself smaller, he decided. He worked free of his fins and struggled to wiggle around until he was facing out so he could squeeze back through and get the fuck out. One of his tanks was almost spent, the other one half empty. Shit, I have to make it out of here before I run out of air…Yohji thought as he tried to remain calm and regulate his breathing. Every intake counted and panicking would only deplete his air supply faster. Yohji struggles back into his gear and jams himself through the shaft but the tank with his air had slipped away and rolled back down to the passageway. Shit! Yohji plummets back into the shaft and gropes for his tank and finds it, continuing on and getting the hell out. When his head broke through the surface of the water, he gasped and sputtered, removing his goggles and treading for a moment, relishing the rush of facing danger and surviving it. "Damn, that was fantastic."

~*~

His SigSauer in hand, the man depressed the trigger and fired a round in the target's forehead. He placed the gun carefully in front of him and picked up an AK -47-class automatic rifle and fired several shots. The next one he used was an Uzi submachine gun and then an M-16. Schuldich grinned at the performance of each of the guns and surveyed them all lined in a row. "These are all beauties."

"Which ones are you gonna take this time?"

He smiled, "All of them."

The dealer smiled, "Since you're in such a nice mood, I'm going to show you something. It's a beautiful old shotgun, engraved with silver. It was a gift of a Scottish Duke to his American bride." The man opened the case and showed Schu the shotgun, "Beautiful isn't it? Well preserved."

Schuldich lifted the weapon carefully and studied it, "Late 1800's. I think about 1880 somewhere along there."

The dealer grinned, "1883. Will you take it?"

Schuldich studied the gun in his hands. The gleam of old silver and the old feel of the weapon. "I'll take it. If you have any more antiques show me immediately, okay?"
"Of course," the London dealer said readily. "I'm awaiting a delivery from an old friend of mine. A Winchester from the late 1800's as well. Said to be owned by a Lady who settled in the Colonies or what is now know as the United States of America..."

Schu nodded, "Let me see it first before anyone else," he told the dealer. His phone rang and he reached inside his jacket pocket for the small mobile, he turned to the dealer, "Have them shipped to the usual place would you?"

The dealer nodded and watched as the redhead bent to the phone and answered in a language he recognized as Japanese. Maximilian didn't speak it.

When the redheaded German was gone, Maximilian Hanover, gun expert and dealer turned to the targets Schuldich had practiced the guns on. His eyes widened in admiration.

Only the main vital points of the dummies were hit.

Forehead.

Heart.

Quick.

Clean.

Not for the first time did he wonder what his customer really did for a living, but Maximilian was in the trade of guns and not in what they were used for.

~*~

Manx surveyed the two operatives in front of her with some trepidation. Birman had warned her that they didn't look like the typical special agents but this was just stretching it a little.

The blonde man was slouched down on one of the large leather sofas his green tinted sunglasses perched low down his nose as he played half-heartedly with a yoyo. The other one, a redhead, was busy pouring over what suspiciously looked like a playboy magazine to Manx.

She looked at Birman as if the woman had betrayed her. "I don't think they're going to suit my purposes." Manx said. Where were the burly, hulking, intimidating and most of all…serious looking special agents she was expecting? These two men were definitely not it.

"I told you they don't look like much."

"Why thank you Birman," Schuldich said sarcastically.

"But they get the job done," Birman continued as if Schuldich had not interrupted her.

"But I've hired several guards from all the known agencies in town and they still haven't done anything. How can these two…" she motioned to Schu and Yohji, "do anything? They aren't even that large or menacing looking."

Yohji continued playing with his yoyo, "Actually in my experience, large looking 'menacing men' as you termed them are rather slow and ineffective. Mostly they utilize scare tactics," he said, "Besides which, large men are mostly slow movers and less agile than say, a more proportioned one."

"And its not like we're dying to be of service to you or anything," Schuldich added.

Manx glared at them.

"If it weren't for Birman we wouldn't even take this assignment." Yohji said suddenly shifting his hold on the yoyo and by some miracle or other, it did several astounding twirls before bouncing back towards Yohji.

"Listen here you arrogant…"

"Manx," Birman said, "You asked me to find you reliable agents. These two are. They get the job done Manx…eventually anyway."

"Damned by faint praise," Schuldich muttered making a gun with his index finger and thumb and aiming it at Yohji. He made shooting noises and Yohji feigned death, clutching at his heart and gagging.

"Birman, those two are morons!" Manx said frowning at the two. "There's got to be something wrong with their brains! I won't trust them with my plants let alone the lives and safety of the band!" Manx announced before walking out of the office.

Birman whirled at Yohji and Schuldich. "Look what you've done!"

"Who wants to play nanny to a rock band anyway?" Yohji muttered.

"We agreed to take the job, she's the one who refused us." Schuldich added.

Birman pointed an angry finger at them, "That's because you acted like stupid brainless stooges!" she said to them. "It's not just a guarding job. I wouldn't have asked you if it were only that. Manx didn't tell you but the job is move than just taking care of Weiß. It's about those girls too."

"What about them?" Yohji asked his interest piqued at the mention of 'girls'.

Birman bent and picked up a file and threw it at Yohji. "Read up on it quick and you better think of a way to convince Manx to take you as the operatives or else," Birman said crisply. She narrowed her eyes at Schuldich and glowered at him, "That goes for you too!"

~*~

A/N: So…? Do you guys like it? Please review…it's the only way I'll know if I should continue with this fic or just trash it…

Constructive criticisms are always welcome.