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[FIC] To The Devil His Due, part 2 (Chapter X+4)

Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2004 12:56 am
by dd
Carrying his weapons bag over one shoulder, Sousuke made his way towards the Finance Division compound at the far end of the complex. He would be on his own as soon as he entered the large security doors. But, he had only gotten this far by relying on others. Cmdr. Horowitz and Lt. Cmdr. Ben-Eleiden had given their support, and had kept the TDD-3 and its fighting forces within reach of the island. Kurz and Melissa were waiting patiently in their M9s, just off shore, ready to rush to his aid if necessary. Casimira had provided invaluable information and was already in the compound, risking serious consequences if her evidence gathering was exposed.

Kaname had given him the will to see this through, even though she wished he would just let things be.

As he walked, the young soldier reminded himself again that Mr. Borodenko was by all reports affiliated with the Russian mafia. That organization bore no resemblance to the Sicilian mafia or La Costra Nosa. Two of Sousuke's favorite movies were The Godfather and its only worthy sequel, The Godfather II. He would not be meeting a man like Don Corleone. His reading in Red Mafiya, in Russian Organized Crime: The New Threat?, and in the National Institute of Justice Journal had disabused any such notions. The Russian mafia was not associated with honor and respect.

Mr. Borodenko’s background was a matter of great conjecture, but a number of things were known for certain. He had grown up in a three generation family of steel workers, living in the shadow of the Magnitogorsk Metal Works. He had served in the military. He had started his postgraduate studies in the aerospace field, but soon transferred to the Academy of Economics. Later, established as a bright young mind, he had worked for various independent companies doing consulting work for government officials on a federal and regional level. He specialized in short-term, medium, and long-term macroeconomic projections. In his free time, it seems, he branched off into more lucrative and less acceptable pursuits.

What was truth and what was conjecture? The current Finance Minister of Mithril had been linked with Russian mafia efforts to assist Mexican cartels smuggle drugs. While living in Paris, he had been implicated in shady dealings between Mossad and corrupt scientists of his home country--- the sale of fissionable materials on the black market had been uncovered by French intelligence. His underlings had been fingered in a huge credit card e-theft, but his involvement was never substantiated. When the German police had uncovered Russian criminals trying to sell Rubens paintings that had vanished from the home of Joseph Goebbels during the second world war, his name was linked to the gang hawking the works of the great Flemish master. Looks like he has led an interesting life.

Sousuke entered the main building. He would have to leave his bag at the security desk. There was no way that the perimeter guards would let him into the heart of the building carrying arms. If all Hell broke loose, and he had walked into a corrupt den of vipers, he might be able to fight his way back to his stash. Might.

Knowing what he did about Borodenko’s bodyguards, there was a good chance that his concealed weapons would be discovered---even though it would paint him in a bad light, he would risk sneaking those items in. All four men were formidable opponents. Ex-KGB, they were adept in all forms of personal weaponry. Having gone through Spetsnaz training, they were well versed in Systema, the Russian system of martial arts. Systema Boyevogo Iskustvo, dating back to the Cossacks, had helped repel invading Vikings, Sarmations, Scythians, Pechenegs, Drevlinians, Volgaa Bolgars, and Mongols. Sousuke had faced special forces soldiers aplenty in Afghanistan. He knew the type of men who would be keeping a close eye on him. He had no choice but to respect their abilities.

The most senior guard had been a SpecOps soldier before joing the KGB. Once a shadow warrior for the GRU before his stint in the KGB, he had been briefly linked to the fabled Zaslon unit after leaving the secret police. Only the best soldiers of the Russian Army could qualify for those positions.

As it turned out, one of the bodyguards was waiting for him at the security desk. Evsei Solonik. A man with a checkered past. Rumored to have been involved in smuggling and black market weapons sales. The overly large dress coat that he wore did not entirely disguise a lopsided bulge. KEDR submachine gun, 9mm, 30 round magazine. No doubt he carried a Stetchkin APS pistol as well.

“I am Sousuke Sagara, here for my meeting with Mr. Borodenko.” Sousuke held his arms out, prepared to be searched. He was not. What is this?

“Yes.” That was all that the short one-eyed man said. He turned and walked. Sousuke followed.

Silently, they walked through a long hallway, passing by alcoves and rooms of busy accountants and financial specialists. Passing by a room filled with bank upon bank of computing engines, Sousuke noticed that he had picked up a shadow. Sergei Ivankov. Once linked to racketeering and protection work. The squat and powerful man had a bulge under his coat as well, longer and fuller. Bizon-2, with a 64 round helical magazine? Good bet. No words were exchanged. No search was performed.

The building was much larger than it had appeared on the outside. The décor and furnishings grew more ornate and more impressive as they walked further down the corridor. A third escort joined the procession. Gregor Mogilevich. Hired killer. Brutal in the extreme. Well suited to being a bodyguard to a man with a checkered past. He too wore a costly dress coat. Yet another concealed automatic weapon.

For a moment, Sousuke’s mind drifted. He was struck by an odd thought. In his imagination, he pictured himself walking into a room…the chair spins around after he is announced…and Borodenko is Gauron. A quick shake of his head erased that pointless daydream. He was in dangerous enough company as it was. Who had approved these men? Just what type of individuals would Mithril accept into its ranks???

After a short while longer, Sousuke reached his destination. A velvet covered chair, its carved arms in the shape of crouching lions, sat just outside of a huge carven door. Lounging in the chair, one long leg hooked over its arm, a tall thin man looked remarkably relaxed. The young Mithril lieutenant new better. Given a choice, he’d rather face the crouching cats.

Pavel Totahounov. Once nicknamed The Red Angel for all of the men he had helped escort to the Pearly Gates, the one time Russian SpecOps member had garnered every award a man in his station could receive. Choosing a darker path, he had gone on to commit every crime imaginable. A man like that had no business being here. A monster like that had no business being alive!!!

Yawning, then stretching, the chief bodyguard ground out his cigar against his bare wrist. Tossing back his head, he drained the last of his Prostokvasha. He smiled. “Lt. Sagara, I presume. From what I have heard, I expected you to be ten feet tall, with scales and fangs.” He laughed, a low pitched gurgling sound. “Perhaps we won’t all be needed after all.” Sousuke did not like the way that sounded. What exactly is he saying? He was less of a threat than they thought, so there will be less need for bodyguards? Or, it won’t take as many men as expected to take him out?. “You’re trustworthy, aren’t you? There’s no need for a search, is there?”

“No.” Souske had not lied. There was no need to search him. That did not mean that he was not carrying a concealed weapon.

“Marvelous.” Totahounov walked over and spoke quietly into his ear. “I had so hoped that you would reward my trust in you. It must take great willpower to walk peacefully among Russian men, seeing what you went through in Afghanistan. But then, we are all on the same team, right?”

“One would hope.” Sousuke smiled, brushing off his sleeve. “Russian men are usually honorable. They’re not ones to change teams, are they?” Sousuke caught the slight stiffening of the man’s posture. A hit. Why? "Even the less than angelic members of Mithril are a part of the family, are they not?"

“Of course." The guard had to fight to keep from smiling at Sousuke's thinly veiled reference to his colorful nickname. "But, I am afraid we have no time to further our aquaintence. I have kept Mr. Borodenko waiting far longer than I should.” Totohounov’s smile seemed natural enough. “You are free to enter.” He waved his arm towards the door.

Sousuke stood quietly, unmoving. His eyes were riveted on the face of the chief bodyguard. Neither man blinked. “Thank you.” He walked into the room.

************************************************************

This is the life!

His seat reclined fully, Kurz tapped his hand against the ARX-7s control lever, his eyes glued to the Arm Slave’s external view screen.

“Wail on that thang, B.B.!” Kurz watched the colorful fish swim amongst the reef, listening to a Blues CD he had burned the week before. “You are the master.”

“At least you have that right, numb nuts.” Melissa’s voice had an edge of urgency to it. “Turn that shit off and pay attention, pretty boy.”

“Well. Babe, I knew you thought I was hot. It was only a matter of time before---”

QUIET!!!!!!

Kurz knew better than to say another word when Melissa used that tone.

“Lt. Weber, I have just heard from Cmdr. Horowitz. An assault force is preparing to attack the island, taking advantage of what they must think is a shortage of defenders. We will be amongst the first Mithril troops to show them the error of their. Buckle up, little man, it’s time to move. Access the beach behind the breakwater. Take out any and every enemy you see.”

“Sousuke?” Kurz already knew the answer.

“He’s on his own for now.” Melissa sounded none too pleased.


************************************************************

It was an exceedingly tense time aboard the TDD-3. The ship had surfaced after the first salvo of Sea Lance ASW-SOWs were launched, immediately raising the ECS masts and sending out sonar decoys.. The hangar crew had been busy launching the T35s, Apaches, and Arm Slaves. A number of RPVs were sent aloft for reconnaissance and to provide data to the GPS aiming systems.

This is a damn fine crew. Cmdr. Horowitz sat in his chair on the bridge, simultaneously scanning the incoming visuals, issuing orders, and conversing with the commanders aboard the other Mithril submarines. I have a feeling that I will soon have a wonderful opportunity to see how they act under extreme duress. His thoughts were prophetic.

By all accounts, the enemy Viperfish survived the initial attack. Though shrouded by its own electronic camoflauge system, the craft was launching its air and land combat forces. A number of cruise missiles had been launched. Before long, he expected to see what they had sent in his direction.

One of the Lampreys was destroyed, hit by the light torpedoes jettisoned from a pair of Sea Lances. If they hadn’t all been so close to land, the Commander would have ordered the SOWs loaded with W-89 nuclear warheads. But, the infernal devices have a 6 mile effective radius. Give or take a few hundred yards.

“Sir, we have coordinates. One of the Osprey-Rs from the TDD-1 confirmed the attack sub’s coordinates before they were all knocked down..” The massive RPVs, based on the V-22 tilt-rotor craft, carried large amounts of sophisticated equipment useful in detecting masked undersea craft. Adjacent differences in sea temperature…eddy currents…magnetic flux…theses things and more could be used to pinpoint the location of the enemy. “The Chevrons are going in hot and nasty, loaded for bear.

“Good! Ensign, patch the coordinates into the fire control system. Launch the remaining Sea Lances. Vector half of the F35s to the subs location. That rat bastard must be lonely, so far from his home base. Let’s help him feel wanted.”

Cmdr. Horowitz was thrown from his seat, suffering a fierce impact with a bank of instruments halfway across the bridge. Wiping away the blood pooling in his eyes, he saw that his fellow sailors had suffered a similar fate. The TDD-3 had lurched fully up on to its side following the impact of an undetected missile. Men and equipment had been dumped into the sea, never knowing what hit them.

“Ensign. Ensign Kukrika. REPORT!

Ensign Kukrika did not answer. His neck sat at an unnatural angle.

“Ensign Sipe, take over damage control. FIND OUT HOW WE STAND, PRONTO!

Sirens were sounding throughout the ship. Automatic fire fighting systems were at work. Emergency bulkheads were closed or closing. The rocking motion of the vessel was uneven, everything tilted as if the TDD-3 listed heavily to one side.

“Aye, sir. It looks like we were hit in the lightly armored area of the launch bay. One of the giant external hatches has been entirely blown away. I cannot tell much more by visual. There’s too much smoke. The gyroscopes are working in the red already. We are taking on water.”

“Holy Mother of God! At least we had put a fair number of craft in the air. Listen up people. Let the other subs know our condition. Direct welding teams to the site of hull breeches. Help direct the rescue personnel. Find out what weapons systems are still operational."

The bridge personnel moved quickly to comply with their instructions.

“Let’s see just how tough you are, old girl.” Cmdr. Horowitz winced in pain, whispering to the spirit of his boat. His hip. Broken or dislocated. Damn. Old age catches up with us all, sooner or later. “I’d really like to make it home for the wife’s birthday.”

I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast for I intend to sail into harm’s way. That, and other sayings from John Paul Jones rushed to the forefront of his thoughts, followed by one from James Lawrence. “Don’t Give up the ship!” He watched as his crew redoubled their efforts. Let's hope we fair better than the USS Cheasapeake did back then.

************************************************************

Picking herself off of her cabin floor, Kaname wondered what had happened. She had been thrown violently against a storage locker, leaving a huge dent. The sound had been so very loud, accompanied by vibrations that had caused her teeth to rattle.

Was that an explosion? Well, if it was, she couldn't blame Sousuke THIS time. Or, could she?

The door to her cabin was obviously not watertight. She could tell by the water seeping in at an alarmingly steady rate.

Should I open the door? What if the hallway is already completely under water? But if it's not, and I waste my chance to escape? I need answers!

She hit the call button on the intercom.

There were many others with the same idea.


************************************************************

Sousuke walked into the room with tangible feelings of trepidation and curiosity. He hated to turn his back on the bodyguards, knowing what type of men they were. But, he was seeking the attention of a powerful and proud man. It was unwise to do anything that might insult the Finance Minister or invite his wrath. It would be potentially foolhardy to create a bad impression of himself. Showing a lack of trust or an obvious deficiency of courage might poison the mood irreparably. After all, he had come here with two separate but intertwined purposes. Fact finding. Followed by favor asking, if the first part went well. It was a major gamble, and he had little control over the cards he would be dealt.

The footsteps behind him ceased soon after he entered the room. He focused his attention on the room around him, taking note of everything. Obviously, there had been some form of celebration here. Looking past that, he tried to learn something about the man he was approaching. The furnishings were ornate but not opulent. Valuable but not showy. Varied but not eclectic. Mr. Borodenko was apparently a lover of history, and more precisely, a collector of ancient weapons and martial items. Roman. Russian. Mongol. Etruscan. Phoenecian. Mayan. A very impressive selection.

The walls of the room told Sousuke more. The man valued family, very much so. He also valued paintings by the old masters. The sight of one large painting in particular brought Sousuke up short. A Rubens, or an excellent replica. No doubt Mr. Borodenko was aware of some of the allegations made against him in the past. Obviously, he was either unconcerned or purposefully trying to make a point. The doubt alone made a powerful statement. It would keep knowledgeable people guessing.

Sousuke could not help himself. His heartbeat had sped up and his breathing had quickened. His own actions---and the reactions of the man he was about to meet---could have significant repercussions. Kaname.

The man’s eyes watched him, like those of an experienced hawk tracking a viper. His face showed no emotion. His posture gave little away. The set of his mouth changed ever so slightly as he evaluated his young visitor. Is that approval? Amusement? Boredom? The man’s eyes left Sousuke briefly, then returned. He was likely checking the positions of his bodyguards, or sending them a subtle message.

“Sir, my name is Sousuke Sagara, Lieutenant of Mithril. I offer you my sincerest thanks for allowing me to meet with you today.” Sousuke’s voice had not wavered. He showed no signs of distaste or discomfort, even though he found himself beset by both feelings to some degree.

“Vyacheslav Borodenko…but then you know who I am.” The Finance Minister waved his hand towards a plush velvet covered chair, its periphery decorated by polished bronze studs. A large coffee table flanked the seat, glass-topped, displaying an ivory-handled Russian cavalry saber of 19th century origin. A large goblet appeared freshly filled with ice and nothing more. A clean plate and wrapped set of utensils lay near it.

After Sousuke nodded his thanks and seated himself, Mr. Borodenko continued. “We celebrated my niece’s engagement earlier today. I had them leave the food and refreshments out until my appointments for today were finished. Please help yourself to anything you might like. Knowing your history, it is possible that you might find ethnic Russian food unsavory in principle. I apologize if that is the case.”

“I am neither hungry nor thirsty, sir. Nonetheless, I thank you for the courtesy. I will add that I am not offended by the offer in any manner. If I may be blunt, I have not come seeking a reason to be insulted, and have no desire to create or embellish any hard feelings.” Sousuke had meant the statement as a reassurance, a statement of intent, and an opening for the obvious question.

“Ah, that is reassuring.” Mr. Borodenko smiled openly. He had caught Sousuke’s intent and was pleased by its subtlety. “May I ask then….” He too would offer opportunity.

“At the risk of being offensive, I will forego matters of supplication and denouement . I have matters of great importance to report, and seek either recommendations or assistance with subsequent actions. The facts and questions in themselves may appear accusatory, but that is not my intent. While my primary purpose is a selfish one, I am also acting out of the best interest of Mithril as I see it. If my story is news to you, there may be benefit for yourself in the telling of it as well.” Sousuke wished he could get inside of the other man’s head. Did that sound reasonable, or have I polluted the well?

The elder gentlemen, his round face slightly tense and his eyes narrowed, rested his chin on his clasped hands. He took stock of Sousuke with quiet intent, reacting first to the implications in his vistors words. Soon enough, he sat up straighter and smiled. The entreaty was plain enough and well spoken. “You may proceed.” He actually laughed, breaking the mood. “Rest assured, I will not sift the words looking for threats or insults. I will ask however, that you give me a brief statement of what this is about before speaking in any detail.”

“Sir. I have been the victim of a plot that arose in the Finance Division a number of years ago. A person who I treasure, and who I was assigned to protect, was at the greatest possible risk. I have come seeking some manner of redress.” Sousuke saw a light of understanding arise in the other man’s eyes. That, and a look of suspicion.”

“Miss Chidori? And you used both past tense and present tense.”

Sousuke was startled. Soon thereafter, he felt embarrassed to have shown that reaction. “Yes sir, Kaname Chidori. In essense, someone we both trusted was driven to deceive the two of us, convincing both myself and Miss Chidori that the other had died under unfortunate circumstances. She had good reason to believe that Miss Chidori would have met a true and untimely end if she did not see to matters satisfactorily.”

It was Mr. Borodenko’s turn to be shocked. He too blushed at the show of his emotion. The pieces fell together quickly. He had a name if not a reason. “Liang Yong?” He tried to keep the distaste out of his voice, but failed. But, his reaction earned him a valuable insight when he saw the young lieutenant’s response to it. “I came across his name linked to yours today, looking through your records. Naturally, there was no mention of a plot.”

“Yes.” Some of the tension eased in Sousuke. He wanted to take the question one step futher, but there was no way to do so without risking insult. As it turned out, he did not beed to ask.

“You need not reply, but what you want to know most of all is whether he acted on his own, had received my blessing, or was acting under my orders. Those would be the questions I would have in your place.”

Sousuke nodded.

“I suppose I should not be surprised by this. Not by your circumstances in particular, but by his willingness to take things to such an extent. He is indeed a dangerous man, as you must be well aware. His influences are far reaching and his ambissions are poorly disguised. He is a subtle and patient man, but his patience will go only so far. Did you realize before coming, that this meeting would put me at risk?” The Minister’s voice had come dangerously close to becoming a growl. Sousuke was on even more perilous ground now.

“Yes, I did. Not only did I contemplate the damage my question might cause you, but I also gave consideration to the injury that my actions might cause me.” Sousuke looked straight into Mr. Borodenko’s eyes. “To be precise, I gave thought to the danger you might pose to me. Miss Chidori, and any of the persons who might rightly or wrongly be associated with my actions.” After pausing to regain his equilibrium, he continued. “My feelings for Miss Chidori are what prompted the incident long ago, and are what bring me here today. I place her well being before my own, and before anyone else’s. Furthermore, I place Mithril’s well being before my own.”

Vyacheslav Borodenko was awash with different emotions. Ultimately, he could find no fault with the young soldier’s actions. After all, it was precisely what he would have done himself. “I see. Then---”

Whatever the Mithril Minister of Finance had intended to say was interrupted by a series of loud explosions, the concussions from which shook the room and sent a crystal chandelier swinging wildly. A half full puchbowl sloshed its contents out and over expensive linens. Books fell over and porecelain figurines were knocked from their perches. Pictures and paintings sagged crookedly on the walls.

A series of smaller explosions followed. There was the unmistakable sound of jet aircraft flying close overhead. Compound sirens sprung to life. A growing commotion could be heard outside the room.

“Evsei, Segei, see what is going on. Be quick about it.

Sousuke had been watching the Minister closely, even after the explosions had begun. His eyes widened shortly after he gave his order. The sound of feet was approaching, not receding. The other man quickly brought up a gun he had been holding under his desk all that time.

Without sparing time enough to glance behind him, Sousuke settled on a course of action. He had worked his way through a different scenario with similar risks. If I am mistaken, I will apologize and accept what comes. If I am not, I must move swiftly and successfully. Otherwise, myself and Mr. Borodenko are likely doomed.

Sousuke’s memory was good. He had mapped out possible sites of cover and the location of any object that could be used as a weapon. His first course of action was to by enough time to assess the situation and react accordingly.

Gunshots rang out from in front of him and behind him. Pistols. If his worst fears came to life, there would be submachine gun fire soon thereafter. Seeing Mr. Borodenko jerk backward, hit high in the shoulder, he completed a subtle but determined course of action. He had pressed firmly down on the heels of both feet, twisting abruptly. The backs of his dress shoes detached, activating a trigger mechanism in each. I owe the Infiltration operatives in Intel a round of drinks if I get out of here alive!

Sousuke threw one powerful flash grenade at the area the gunshots behind him originated from. He threw the other back by the rear wall of the room where the other guards had taken up station. In a flash of motion, he noticed that Pavel Tothounov jump out of the room through the open doorway.

Every second counts now….


************************************************************

“Somebody’s f@cking serious, alright!” Melissa felt an uncontrollable urge to curse, fighting hard to keep her ARX-7 on its feet immediately after the huge explosions shook the ground, sending enormous fireballs expanding ever upward. Pieces of buildings and large amounts of soil rained down on her machine and everything else in the general vicinity.

She checked the map reader on her console. The initial wave of the attack—presumably cruise missiles---were directed towards the barracks, the hangars, heavy equipment sheds, and the communications facilities. The Finance buildings were relatively untouched. Hope your luck holds out, Sousuke.

The threat detectors screamed for immediate attention. Melissa toggled through a number of different systems, biting her lip. Her pulse rate went up and her hands clenched the controls spasmodically. OK. It’s payback time. You motherf@ckers won’t be expecting us, will you? Enemy Arm Slaves were arriving by means of powered gliders. Small submarines were dropping off troops just beyond the nearest reefs. The IFF system was having a nervous breakdown trying to sort out the combatants in a growing dance over head.

The three TDD class submarines had enjoyed the luxury of surprise. They had launched their own forces shortly before the enemy had. Three full squads of Arbalests were moving into position. If the Amalgam forces were going to reach their objectives, it would not be without a fight.

“All right you apes, listen up. It’s time to kick some tail. Anyone slacking off will get my foot up their ass when the smoke clears. That’s whether they are dead or alive!” Melissa had been given nominal control of all ground forces. The IFF system indicated that a number of vehicles were approaching form an inland direction. Friendlies. Looks like the advanced warning had allowed some of the remaining troops to move out before the missiles struck. The automatic frequency sorter signaled its success. “You guys are just in time. Leave the heavy work to us. There’ll be some tourists coming up on the beach any moment now. I’d appreciate it if you'd give them your undivided attention.”

“Sis, it’s time to ROCK AND ROLL!!!” Kurz’ voice came in loud over the com set. Melissa smiled. She wasn’t going to slap him down this time. He had reason to be excited. They all did. It wasn’t often that they got a chance to fight on home territory. Yes, it ought to be very sweet getting a chance to ruin the enemy’s day. Finding an excuse to burst Kurz’ bubble later will be an added bonus. It's a great day to be alive....

“It’s time children. They’re within range. Knock’emout of the air if you can. Make’em pay dearly for every step they take on our soil!” Melissa moved her ARX-7 ahead at full stride, bringing her Javelin missile system to bear on the first target entering her zone. Adios, asshole!!!


************************************************************

Ling Yong couldn’t contain himself. He tilted back his head and laughed after each massive explosion sent a tremor through the room. Not part of the plan, his bodyguards did not know what was happening---they were very edgy, forced to stay by his side while he lounged in his favorite chair seemingly unperturbed. That is NOT the sound of impending doom. Those are the glorious drums of war, signaling my triumph. All of my careful plans will be coming to fruit.

A number of underlings ran into the room, reporting that the island was under attack. They urged the Deputy Minister to head for the fortified underground shelters. Sneering, he told them to run if they wanted. He told them to keep on running. He would remember each and every name. “I have full trust in our brave troops. They will repel the foolish invaders.” He smiled at his own lie. There were not enough soldiers remaining in the barracks to repel a women’s knitting circle.

Ten minutes passed, the sounds of battle outside growing more heated with every moment. Liang Yong was more concerned about gunshots that should have taken place within the building. Borodenko should be dead by now. Sagara, too. Such a tragedy. Who could have possibly seen such a conspiracy coming? Sarcasm was something he relished, more now than ever. Liang Yong had complete faith in the four turncoat bodyguards. His grip on them would tighten even further now. Marvelous. Simply wonderful. The King is dead. Long live the King!

His excitement grew. He had to have confirmation now. He needed to see it with his own eyes. Time to keep up with the act. “You three. Let’s go, now. We must assure the safety of the Minister."


************************************************************

Sousuke had been through this before. He could imagine a giant clock inside his head. As he watched each movement of the second hand, he would swear that the movement came at least a minute too late. Frame by frame, the scene before him advanced.

Borodenko fell or ducked behind his desk.

The stun grenades were on their way.

Eyes closed, he picked up his chair and flung it towards the area he had last placed the foremost guard.

Gunshots came form that direction. Pistol.

Elbow brought down with great force, he smashed the glass top of the nearby table.

Eyes open again, he took out the razor sharp saber, grateful that it had not been displayed in its scabbard.

More shots, in rapid succession. Submachine gun. No, plural. A lacquered leather Mongol shield fell off the wall near him. A bullet whizzed by close to his ear.

Rolling on the floor, he came to his feet, positioning himself so that the lead guard was between him and the other guards.

Gunshots behind him, target unknown.

Rushing the slightly disoriented guard---Solonik---Sousuke felt a sharp pain in his left thigh. Bullet.

Another large explosion shook the room. Unknown items fell, causing a racket. His target stumbled, putting his gun hand down on the ground. Opportunity. Lunge NOW!!!

Leaping and thrusting in one forceful motion, he arrived at his opponent before he could bring up his weapon.

Gunshots from all directions. Some were hitting the floor dangerously close to him.

The moment of victory, the feel of a blade passing through flesh. The jar of his arm, as the tapered tip ran up against bone.

Life on the line as he makes a fateful decision. Momentarily prone and unmoving, he reaches inside the dying man’s dress coat and swings around the Bizon-2. Its movement limited by the sling around the man’s neck, the gun fires as the trigger is pulled.

Looking up, he sees Totahounov standing behind the outer frame of the door, pistol pointed at his head. No way to swing the submachine gun in that direction. No shot. Still alive. Why?

Movement to the left. Ivankov Bizon-2 chattering away, shells littering the floor. Ducking behind the piano. If he was not going for Borodenko, it was a flanking maneuver.

More movement. Mogilevich. He's clutching his abdomen with one hand, KEDR firing away in the grasp of the other. His path noted.

Risky decision. Gun angled upward, he shoots to sever the electrical cable on the chandelier. Most of the room goes dark. Totahounaov silhouetted in the doorway, unmoving.

More gunshots behind him. Pistol. A grunt. The sound of the piano as a hands slams down on the unseen keys.

Exposed and vulnerable, he takes the time to extricate his gun from the dead man’s body.

Small divan to the left, estimated four paces. Jump!. Bullets spray across the area he just left.

Landing on the top of the furniture, he loses balance as the piece flips over on its back, providing minimal cover.

Listen! Any sound or movement is a target. Hopefully Borodenko will not make a dash for the door.

Running feet. A table bumped into, glasses falling against one another. Gunfire, with bullets sending plaster down upon his head. The aim is too high. Luckily. The direction was spot on.

Returning fire, hoping the large magazine still had plenty to offer. The sound of glasses shattering. A startled cry. The sound of wooden furniture collapsing. A gun firing, then stopping.

“Sagara!” Borodenko’s voice. “Lt. Sagara, I have taken down Ivankov. I saw his form fall across the light from the door. Soldier, are you still alive.”

Options considered. Speaking would pinpoint his location. But, Totahounov already knew where he was. If the others were down, there was no new risk. “Sir, Solonik is dead. Mogilevich went down, but I do not know if it was involuntary or whether he is lying low. The leader remains outside the door.”

Traitors. Accursed snakes. Their families will pay for the sins they have committed.” There was the sound of movement low to the ground. Coming from near the desk.

Sousuke began to crawl in the dark as well, keeping the doorway in sight.

“That is precisely the reason we were here, Minister.” Totahounov’s voice. “Nothing else could have driven us to break your trust. I could not bring myself to follow through, however. Sergei. Gregor. Evsei. Their blood is on my hands now because of that.” There was a moment of complete silence. “It was Liang Yong. He placed our families at risk. He ordered the assassination” Totahounov raised his pistol, placing the muzzle against his right temple.

“Pavel! Wait!”

“Lt. Sagara. You would have provided a useful and convenient cover story. I am glad you have survived. Yours skills are admirable. I wish we could have met under different circumstances.” He bowed his head. “Minister, forgive me. I ask that you protect Ivana. She is in danger from Liang Yong’s men. This is my last service to you.”

A gunshot rang out. The gaunt man’s lifeless form fell heavy to the floor.

*************************************************************
End of part 2

Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2004 4:16 pm
by Belisarius
Very good. Sometimes the best compliments are short.

Me, Grimlock, no like.

Why?

No A** kicking in episode.

Aren't you from a kid's cartoon show, you shouldn't be using such language.

Me Grimlock say why not? Me not nice dino. Me grown up.

Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2004 4:33 pm
by dd
Not entirely correct.

No ass-kicking yet.... :twisted:

Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2004 7:20 pm
by pilot03
I can't wait to see what trouble Souske gets into this time. Will there be any famous cliffhangers? I'll just sit and wait for the next part while day dreaming about a Melissa x Kurz conspiracy.