Chapter Twenty One: Before The Crash (Part III)

Hizashi Hyuga:

I couldn't help but think about the irony of it all. The River Tank, a symbol of Inja No Mi their, was about to become my escape vessel. It was built by them, for them, yet here I was, a fugitive in their midst, about to turn their own weapon against them. This thought brought a half-smile to my face.

My hands ran along the smooth surface of the command seat. My heart was racing. For a moment, I allowed myself to feel it all – the fear, the anticipation, the rush of adrenaline. I was alive, more alive than I had been in the dark, dank cell they had kept me in.

As I settled into the pilot's seat, I felt a sense of purpose. It was as if the seat was molded for me, waiting for this very moment. I glanced at the empty co-pilot's seat beside me, well, I guess I will be doing all the turning.

I shrugged off my blood-stained flap-jacket, feeling a bit lighter without its weight. The control panel in front of me was a jumble of familiar and foreign – some switches and buttons I knew from my obsessive reading about the Inja No Mi pirate wars; others seemed like they belonged to the machines from the Second Shinobi War. And then there were those that I didn't recognize at all. But that was okay. I felt confident that I'd figure them out. This River Tank, with all its fancy computers, was designed to be forgiving, to gently correct the pilot's mistakes.

But here's the thing: all the tech in the world couldn't change the fact that it was up to me to drive this thing. I could mess up a little, sure, but the success or failure of our whole mission was in my hands.

A stir behind me caught my attention. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw her – the girl who had liberated me – shrugging off her armor and settling into the gunner's seat. Her eyes, wide and searching, were trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings. 'Well, that's not ominous at all,' I thought wryly. I tried to emanate a sense of calm as I pressed buttons and adjusted dials on the instrumentation.

"Hey," I threw my voice over my shoulder. I hoped she couldn't hear the tremble in it. "You good back there?"

"Yeah, just… trying to figure this out."

"You think staring at it will suddenly make you an expert?" I couldn't help but let a hint of teasing slip into my words.

"Actually… Yeah."

A whine began to rise from the River Tank's stern.

"Okay. Can you shoot?"

"I was trained for it. But they focused on the reloading part."

What? Wasn't this her plan?

"Well, it's the same thing as training. But not that."

"What?

"Okay, here are the basics. See that toggle on the left? That's about to become your new best friend - It switches between cannons and missiles - And the stick? That's your aim. Point it, trust a little in lady luck, and use the triggers to bring the fireworks."

I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was soaking up every detail, both of the chaos around us and my hurried explanations. There was a wide-eyed intensity in her gaze.

"This is… a lot," she admitted. "I mean, I'm not exactly sure where to start. How about we pause for a sec so you can, I don't know, maybe give me the 'Shooting for Dummies' version?"

I couldn't help but shake my head. Time wasn't a luxury we had. Any moment now, someone was bound to notice the tank's engines firing up it's the hatch shut. And after finally escaping captivity, the last thing I wanted was to get caught again.

"There's no time," I shouted, trying to be heard over the noise. "You're going to learn on the fly, ready or not!"

My hands fumbled over the controls, foreign yet familiar, as I nudged the beast into motion. Then, with a sudden jolt, my head nearly slammed into the panel in front.

"What was that?", she asked

I quickly activated my Byakugan, scanning for the source of our abrupt halt. That's when I saw it – the river tank was still chained, still bound to the Marina by thick, steel cables.

"The tank's still anchored," I muttered.

It was such a simple oversight, these few cables, but they threatened to ruin our entire escape plan.

Frantically, I scanned the controls, searching for something, anything, that could cut the cables. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a desperate call to action.

"Hold on," I told her, more to myself than to her. "I've got this."

Third Person POV:

Inside the western control tower, a confused teinin turned from his console to the genin passing close behind him.

"Uh, excuse me, sir," he stammered, pushing up his glasses, "we've got a rogue takeoff from the bay."

The genin, in mid-stride, froze and pivoted, his eyes scanning the vast window that framed the bustling in camp. There, at the edge of the marina, a tiny river tank writhed in a futile attempt to break free from its anchoring cables.

This made no sense. A river tank gearing up for takeoff while still chained down? It was like watching someone try to walk away in handcuffs. Actually, it was exactly like that.

"Link me to that tank, now," he ordered, his voice suddenly authoritative. "Alert the command, get lieutenant Shirogane on the line, and for heaven's sake, stop that boat."

The news rippled through the camp, turning the usual calm into chaos. Departments that were usually sleepy in peacetime suddenly sprang to life. Genin and teinin alike snapped to attention, their alert stones buzzing and beeping with red lights. Orders flew back and forth so fast that some of them didn't even make sense, some genin were left confused, others thought it was just a drill.

But the teinin gathered at the marina knew better. They heard the sharp snap of cables as the river tank attempt to brake free, and they sprang into action. The genin in charge was shouting orders, but even he couldn't speed up the charging of the ancient runes on their weapons. They'd have to wait a few more heart-stopping moments before they could unleash their power.

Hizashi Hyuga:

"Alright, let's do this."