I don't own anything.
Shinji vs. the Zombie Terrorists
Gendo Ikari stared at the reports on his desk and frowned. "This is all we need, eh Sensei?"
"Sarcasm aside," Kozo Fuyutsuki retorted, "this situation must be dealt with. We have no forces in the area capable of dealing with this and we cannot rely on international forces to aide us."
"Always the problem with unofficial operations," Gendo mused calmly. Kozo's eye ticked slightly at his former student's demeanor.
"Need I remind you that one of our most important assets is in danger?" he demanded of the younger man. "Lieutenant Sohryu would be almost impossible to replace."
"I know that," Gendo replied. "Curse Kyoko for only allowing that spoilt cow to pilot her." Gendo leaned his head on his steepled hands as he thought. "We do have one asset in the area." Kozo's frown deepened. That was news to him.
"Who?"
"My son." Kozo fought to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.
"You actually think that we're going to get Shinji to work for us?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea how pissed off at you that kid is?"
"He's a Rokubungi!" Gendo exclaimed. "We do not take kindly to those who sleight us. Despite that, he is still my son and will do as told."
"You're going to contact him anonymously and offer him lots and lots of cash, aren't you?" Kozo asked.
"Fuck yeah," Gendo replied. "That little bastard is dangerous!" He leaned back in his chair. "Who'd of thought that whiny little bitch would become a mercenary? I mean, that's got to be a first!" Kozo frowned as something at the edge of his mind roared to be heard.
"Doesn't this seem familiar?"
"How so?" Gendo asked.
"You know, you, me, a dangerous, militant, possibly psychotic Shinji?" Kozo pushed. "It seems like we've been here before. Know what I mean?"
"We have," Gendo stated. "Remember when Katsuragi first brought him in?"
"No, he wasn't militant back then," Kozo replied as he tried to comprehend what he was thinking. Sadly, the harder he thought, the more it eluded him. "Damn it, this is just like when you're trying to think of a song and you can't quite remember the name. This is going to drive me insane later."
"Yeah," Gendo agreed. There was something vaguely familiar about this, as well as a sense of foreboding. He casually pushed aside the second feeling. It was Shinji after all. What's the worst that could happen?
"And one more thing," Kozo began.
"Yes?"
"Maybe sending Sohryu to negotiate with our radical Islamic partners wasn't the cleverest idea you've ever come up with."
"Yeah," Gendo agreed. "In hindsight that kind of seems like one big disaster waiting to happen, doesn't it?"
(:ii:)
Shinji Ikari mumbled unintelligently and fumbled over the side of his bed for his phone. Sadly, his wandering hand reduced his beer can pyramid, the pride of last night's drunken revels, to a pile of tin. He found the phone and brought it to his head. "What?"
"It's Yuki." Shinji's muddled mind drew no conclusions and he said so.
"Yuki who?"
"I'm on my way up to your apartment," the woman stated. "I've got a job for you."
"That's nice." Shinji ended the call and dropped the phone.
"Who was that?" the woman next to him mumbled.
"No idea," Shinji replied as he snuggled back into her warmth. He was almost asleep again when his bedroom door opened. Shinji shot upright and found himself aiming a pistol at a pretty dark-haired woman in a dress suit. He stared at her owlishly for a minute. "Oh, hi Yuki." He tucked his pistol back under his pillow, ignoring his bedmate's wide eyes.
"Is that your wife?" the woman whispered.
"Her?" Shinji asked, jerking his thumb at Yuki. "I'd never marry that."
"Don't be a dick," Yuki growled. Shinji grinned at her.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"I just called you!" Yuki exclaimed. Shinji frowned and tried to think back.
"You did?" Yuki sighed in exasperation.
"We've got a job," she stated. "Get your team together." Shinji stared at her contemplatively for a minute before snuggling up to the woman beside him again.
"Fuck it."
"Ten mil." Shinji glanced back at Yuki.
"Huh?"
"Ten million euros plus all expenses covered," Yuki repeated. Shinji jumped out of bed and began searching for his pants. The woman he had been sleeping with climbed out of bed as well to hunt for her clothes, but she kept the sheet draped around her like a toga.
"You two have no idea who the other is, do you?" Yuki asked. Shinji glanced at his bedmate and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Yuki sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whatever. Get dressed and meet me at the front door."
(:ii:)
Shinji leaned back in the seat of Yuki's jeep and watched as parked planes whipped by. "This seems kind of dicey."
"It's not the first time we've gone on anonymous requests," Yuki replied. "They paid the half up front and nobody puts down that kind of money for a joke."
"I just don't like it," Shinji stated. "Who agrees to put up that kind of money without an argument? What if it's the CIA up to their old tricks?"
"If it's the CIA, I'd say the best thing you can do is simply get the hell out." The jeep slowly and Shinji climbed out. He glanced at the C-130 and pulled his duffel bag and rifle case out of the back.
"Hey Boss," a voice called in thick American English.
"Greaves," Shinji returned as he shook his partner's hand. "Anyone else here?"
"Not yet," Greaves replied. "This is my friend Captain Morgan. He'll be flying us out there." Shinji shook the smaller man's hand.
"Nice to meet you."
"Same," Morgan replied. "Here's the bill." Shinji accepted the piece of paper and handed it to Yuki. With his part said, Morgan turned and walked back up the old plane's cargo ramp. Shinji turned back to Greaves.
"C-130?"
"She may be old, but she still kicks ass. Just like she did in Vietnam."
"About fifty years before I was born." Greaves chuckled and nodded to Yuki before following his friend back up the cargo ramp. Shinji paced him. "So, who's this guy's co-pilot, Jack Daniels?"
"Huh?" Greaves asked blankly. He frowned for a moment before his face lit up. "Oh! I get it."
"Genuine rocket scientist you are," Shinji commented. "Pride of the United States school system."
"Your team," Yuki commented.
"He can shoot straight," Shinji replied with a shrug as he dropped his duffel bag and rifle case. He unzipped his case and slipped the sleek, tan suppressed Mk. 17 assault rifle out.
"What the hell is that thing?"
"This is a FN Mk. 17 Special Operations Combat Assault rifle in 7.62 Russian," Shinji stated proudly. "It'll save us a mint in ammo."
"Where the hell did you get it?" Yuki demanded. "I thought I was supposed to be told every time you guys wanted to buy something."
"You made that very clear after that incident with that Ukrainian-American arms dealer," Shinji agreed.
"Than why the hell wasn't I told you were buying these things?" Yuki demanded. "You jackasses always blow your hard-earned cash on the most ridiculous things! What was wrong with the G36KVs you had?"
"Nothing," Shinji replied.
"Than why did you buy these?"
"We didn't," Shinji replied proudly. "We stole them." Yuki's jaw closed with an audible click.
"When?"
"The last job," Shinji stated. Yuki frowned as she tried to remember the last job.
"Intercepting that American military aide shipment to Jordan?"
"That's the one," Shinji stated.
"Shinji, the Israelis wanted that shipment for themselves," Yuki replied in a surprisingly calm voice. "Didn't we agree that we were never going to piss off the Israelis?"
"The Israelis did get the shipment," Shinji stated. "We just fudged the manifest a little."
"Who on your team can write Arabic?"
"Asa."
"Asa can write Kurdish," Yuki corrected. Shinji just shrugged.
"It's all squiggly lines," he stated. "They'll never notice." Yuki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation until a thought struck her.
"How'd you get a Jew to steal from Holy Land?"
"Wasn't easy."
(:ii:)
"So, how are you going to get Asa to get on the plane?" Yuki asked. Beside her Shinji was tying up his combat boots, having already changed into a pair of desert tiger stripe BDUs.
"I have a plan to deal with his deep-seated and completely unfounded fear of flying," he stated as he tugged up the sleeve of his brown long-sleeved T-shirt to check his watch.
"Unfounded?" Yuki repeated. "He was in a plane, a C-130 actually, that crashed. He was in a coma for a year! How is that unfounded?"
"Well, statistically, almost no one gets into two fatal plane crashes."
"That's because one fatal accident usually means they're dead."
"Details," Shinji replied. "Speak of the devil." Yuki turned and saw a small blue hatchback heading towards them. It stopped and a tall, dark-haired man climbed out. He took one look at the plane and stormed towards Shinji.
"You know there is no way in hell that I'm getting on that thing, right?" he demanded.
"Asa, my friend, calm down," Shinji replied peaceably. "I understand completely." As he spoke Greaves snuck up behind the irate Israeli and slammed the butt stock of his Mk. 17 into his skull.
"Nyargh!" Asa's knees buckled and he did a perfect three point, knees, chest, face; landing. Shinji grinned. "See? My plan is foolproof!"
"You're an idiot," Yuki stated flatly. "Even if that was a good idea, you're never going to catch him with it again."
"Of course I am," Shinji stated. "That coma made his susceptible to head injuries. That's why he got kicked out of Sayeret Matkal. This is the twelfth time we've done that to him and he never remembers."
"You're giving him a concussion!" Yuki shrieked.
"Probably," Shinji agreed. Yuki stared at him in horror for a moment, before her shock faded.
"You're a horrible, horrible person."
"Heh. I know."
(:ii:)
"I'm going to kill you all!" Shinji frowned and glanced at the man buckled, bound really, to the seat across from him. The C-130's JATO rockets kicked in and Asa's shriek nearly drowned them out as the plane suddenly lurched skyward, the century old airframe groaning ominously.
"Somebody shut him up."
"Got it," Kenny stated as he tapped Asa's skull with the butt of his pistol.
"Nyargh!" The irate Israeli fell mercifully silent as the plane leveled out. Shinji unbuckled himself and rose to his feet.
"Alright folks!" he announced. "Sorry about the early wake up call, but it beats the one I got."
"She did have nice knockers," Yuki grumbled.
"She had very nice knockers," Shinji corrected. "Anyway, pretty much all I know is that we are making bank on this job. That's why she's here. Care to explain?" Yuki sighed and rose to her feet.
"This is a rescue mission people," she stated. "Our target is being held in a former Soviet nuclear missile base in Afghanistan. You go in, get her, and bring her out."
"Anything we need to know?" Paulsen asked in his thick cockney English.
"Avoid being seen, Afghanistan has been running itself fairly well and the sudden appearance and Anglo commandos would probably be a bad thing," Yuki answered.
"Who's in the base?" Shinji asked.
"Terrorists. Shoot to kill." Shinji smiled. He liked the sound of that.
"Attention troopers," a calm voice cut in. "This is Captain Morgan speaking. We will be over the drop zone in three hours." The voice cut off and left everyone in utter silence.
"So," Paulsen began, "who's his co-pilot, Jim Bean?" There was a moment of silence.
"Oh, I get it!" Greaves announced.
"Regular Einstein," Paulsen commented.
"Your team," Yuki commented again.
"He can shoot strait," Shinji repeated.
"Did you ever have to remind him which end the bullets come out?" Yuki pressed.
"No, but we do before every mission just in case," Shinji replied. "Call it preemptive."
"Sure." Shinji shrugged and turned back to his team.
"Alright people. Break 'em out and load 'em up!" Yuki watched in awe as the nine men produced about a dozen different weapons.
"Do you guys have enough guns?"
"For now," Shinji replied as he buckled an ancient brown pistol belt around his hips and drew his pistol from its drop leg holster. "Want to get in on field work now?"
"You think I'd really go into a combat situation with you idiots?" Yuki demanded.
"We aren't that bad," Shinji argued. Yuki just pointed behind him and Shinji turned to see Kenny and Reinhardt drawing on Asa's face with a sharpie. "Oh, come on! That's funny!"
"I meant them," Yuki corrected. Shinji glanced back again and saw Greaves and Paulsen cutting the lines on Asa's parachute.
"Okay. That is a little dangerous, but he has a backup."
"What happened if the backup fails?" Yuki demanded. Shinji pondered that as he brought out his old Remington and began feeding it shells.
"Jew pancakes?" he ventured finally.
"Matza," Yuki corrected.
"That too."
(:ii:)
"Stand up!" Yuki winced as the C-130's rear cargo ramp dropped and the mercenaries climbed to their feet.
"Hey Greaves!" someone called. "It's the red cord!"
"I know that!" Greaves shot back, holding up one of his ripcords.
"The red one!" Shinji shouted over the howling wind. "That's the emergency cut off."
"Oh, right!" Yuki pinched the bridge of his nose. The red light that had filling the C-130's cargo hold was replaced by a green one and the nine men disappeared into the fading light outside. The cargo ramp rose again and the plane's cargo chief pulled off his oxygen mask.
"They were joking, right?" the man asked.
"I don't know anymore," Yuki stated. "I should have worked in the legal private sector. Sure, the money is a little less, but there are standard damn it!" She stared at the man for a moment. He was kind of cute. "I'm Yuki."
"James Beam," the man replied as he took Yuki's hand.
"James can be short for Jim, right?"
"Yeah," the man stated. "I need to go speak with Daniels." Yuki didn't even bother to ask Daniels' first name.
"Can't I just meet a nice normal man?"
(:ii:)
"Let me the fuck out of here!" Asuka roared as she pounded on her cell's door. She was pissed. Not only had they locked her up, but they had cut the lights on her. "You better start praying to your god now!" Outside her cell someone moaned. Asuka blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah! That's right! Start praying now bitches!" Someone began to pound on her door. "Well, I'd let you in if you hadn't locked the door from the outside!" The pounding continued, but no one bothered to unlock the door. Asuka sighed and sat down on her rack. "I'm going to castrate Commander Ikari for this one."
(:ii:)
Gendo frowned and looked around his office. "Something wrong?" Kozo asked.
"Nope," Gendo replied as he opened another beer and turned back to the massive high-def T.V. mounted on the ceiling. "Maybe we should just forget about Sohryu."
"It has been more peaceful around here with her gone," Kozo commented.
"Here it is!" Gendo cried. The timer counted down and the white sphere flew across the screen before slamming into the net. "Yes!" Gendo leapt to his feet, ignoring the beer spilling everywhere. "When you walk through a. . ." His loyal reprisal of his club's anthem was rudely cut short as Kozo punched him in the face.
"Fucking kopite," the older man spat before storming out of the office.
(:ii:)
Shinji brought his canopy down and immediately cut it free and unbuckled his Mk. 17. He unfolded the rifle's stock and pulled back the charging handle. His quick scan through his night vision monocle and his rifle's light-intensifying reflex sight revealed that no one was around. "Clear," someone hissed.
"Clear," Shinji agreed. "Anyone hurt?"
"No." That was a bit of a miracle. A HAHO jump onto the foot of a mountain covered in loose rocks usually ended with at least one sprained ankle.
"Let's get these canopies weighed down," Shinji ordered. "We don't need them perfectly covered; we should be gone by daylight." He quickly shrugged off his parachute's harness and his black coveralls before piling several rocks on his canopy to keep it from blowing around. Finally Shinji pulled out a shemagh and wrapped it around his head.
Despite Yuki's fears, Shinji's team quickly secured their parachute gear and fell into a security circle while Shinji checked his GPS and map. Happy with their location, Shinji arrowed his arms downward and pointed. The team fell into a column formation in the direction Shinji wanted and began moving forward at his signal.
(:ii:)
The winding trail up the mountain was ridiculously steep and nearly impassable. Shinji really would have liked to have used it, but that would just be too obvious. At the head of the formation Greaves held up his hand and they all froze. After a few more gestures, Shinji moved up quietly to lie beside the other man. "There it is," Greaves whispered as his offered his night vision binoculars.
"Yeah," Shinji agreed as he scanned the building with the binoculars. "Looks like nobody's home." He rolled over and gestured for Kenny. The sniper rose and moved to join them. "I want you up that tower."
"Got it Boss," Kenny replied. The sniper slipped over the ridge they were hiding behind and began making his way toward the designated tower. Shinji made a few more gestures and the team climbed to their feet, dropping their assault packs as they did. They slipped over the ridge and made their way towards the largest of the small buildings clustered tightly around the capped missile silos. The first four men, first squad, stacked up on the building's door and Shinji and the other three, second squad, gave security.
First squad kicked open the door and burst into the building. A moment later Asa appear and waved them in. Shinji walked into the room and frowned. "No one's home."
"Yeah," Asa agreed. "Their security room is up here. Most of the interior cameras are down, but the exterior cameras are still running. Someone should be here." Shinji nodded in agreement.
"Found the stairwell boss," Greaves stated, "and a map." Shinji took the offered map and glanced over it quickly.
"Holding cells are at the bottom of the facility," he commented. "First squad stays here to provide security. Retrieve the packs. Second squad on me." Shinji moved to the stairwell and frowned as he glanced down the long spiral staircase. Annoyingly, the lights shut off after a few floors. "Oh, perfect."
"This top building is probably on a different electrical grid," Asa commented. "The generator room is on the bottom floor too."
"Right," Shinji grumbled as he flipped his reflex sight's magnifier to the side and turned on his infrared light. "Let's get moving folks."
"Right." Mao took point and Shinji started down after him with Paulsen and Reinhardt behind him.
(:ii:)
"Asa!"
"What?" Asa demanded. He had one hell of a headache for some reason. 'And I still can't believe I made it all the way onto the plane before passing out again. Maybe I should see a doctor.'
"You've got to see this!" Bowski stated. Asa made his way to the security rooms.
"What is it?"
"This guy," Bowski stated, pointing towards one of the few working interior cameras. It showed a man lying on the floor. "This guy hasn't moved since I started watching." The man twitched suddenly. "Oh. There he goes." The man staggered to his feet and began to shuffle. "Oh my God. . .he's so drunk. Aren't these guys Islamic extremists?"
"So?" Asa asked.
"Isn't booze illegal for Muslims?" Asa stared at him for a moment.
"Hey Jalal!"
"Yeah?" Jalal asked as he poked his head into the security room.
"You want to go get a beer after this?" Asa asked. "I'm buying."
"Fuck yeah!" Jalal cheered.
"Cool. Go make sure Greaves hasn't hurt himself."
"You mean again?" Jalal asked as he went off to find the other man.
"See?"
"Jalal's Muslim?" Bowski asked in surprise. "I thought he was Irish. I remember him telling me he was."
"That was Saint Patty's Day," Asa stated. "Everybody's Irish on Saint Patty's day."
"Oh. So, like when you stuff your face with pork at barbeque joints?" Asa's eyes bugged out slightly.
"Never mention that again." Asa glared at him and thumbed his throat mike's push-to-talk button. "Boss?" Nothing but static came back. "Boss?"
"Too much rock between us and them," Bowski stated. "They'll be fine. I don't think they're really stupid enough to assume this place is completely empty."
"Right," Asa agreed.
(:ii:)
Shinji sighed in relief as they finally hit the bottom floor. "I'm never taking elevators for granted again," Mao groaned.
"Shut up," Shinji returned simply. "Stack up." His men stacked up and Shinji tried the door knob. It turned easily in his hand. Paulsen nodded and Shinji jerked the door open. The three men sped inside and Shinji slipped into the trail position, Mk. 17 at the ready.
"Holy shit," Paulsen grunted. Shinji was forced to agree as he swept his infrared across the bodies lying across the floor.
"You know," Reinhardt began, "it normally looks like this when we're leaving, not when we're arriving."
"Yeah," Shinji agreed. He kneeled and studied the bodies. They had been rather seriously desecrated. 'Are those teeth marks?'
"What's the call boss?" Shinji dug the map out and inspected it in the light from his night vision monocle's tiny infrared LED.
"Generator room is closest," Shinji stated. He squeezed his radio's PTT. "Asa come in." There was only static. "Great. Who's up for being a runner?"
"Bollocks to that," Paulsen grunted. "My wife says I have a nice tight ass as is."
"Didn't need to know that," Shinji stated. "We're hitting the generator room. Infrared just isn't good enough and the other guys certainly have it too if they managed to get this many tangos at once. Everybody on your toes, looks like we may be dealing with some seriously sick puppies here."
"Maybe Hendricks," Mao suggested. "I hope so. He really needs to die."
"Killing the competition?" Shinji asked.
"Alls fair in love and war," Mao stated. "And God help you if it's a private war. The competition here is murder."
"Agreed," Shinji replied. "Fall in."
"Copy that boss." Shinji nodded and the other three men fell in.
(:ii:)
"A lot of drunks down there," Bowski commented.
"Yeah," Asa commented. This was really starting to worry him.
"Do you think it could be some kind of nerve agent?"
"We have sensors and masks," Asa stated. "Damn. How did we wind up with the terrorist frat boys?"
"Luck of the draw," Bowski stated. "Maybe that's where everyone else is! I betcha the rest of them are out on a terrorist panty raid!"
"How does that work in that twisted chunk of fat you call a brain?" Asa wondered.
"Well. . ."
"That was rhetorical," Asa interrupted.
"Oh."
(:ii:)
"Can anybody read Russian?" Shinji asked as he stared at the instructions printed on one of the generators.
"I speak it," Paulsen offered.
"Everybody speaks Russian," Shinji stated. "It's like a requirement for being a mercenary, same as speaking various Middle Eastern dialects." Mao stepped forward and promptly smacked one of the generators with a wrench. "What are you doing?"
"This is how we fix things in China," Mao said flatly.
"This is a Russian generator," Paulsen commented.
"Russian generator, Japanese generator, American generator. . .no difference. Everything made in China," Mao returned. Shinji began to argue, but realized the futility of it. The thin Chinaman delivered a dozen more well-placed smacks and the generators rumbled to life.
"It works," Shinji commented as he pushed his night vision monocle up and switched his reflex sight back to standard before turning off the infrared light.
"Of course it works. It was made in China."
"Right. Let's get moving folks. We have a princess to save."
"You're closer to the dragon than a knight," Paulsen commented.
"I don't breathe fire."
"Well, depending on how much dramatic license you take when describing automatic fire or even your incredibly foul mouth when surprised. . ."
"Shut up," Shinji interrupted as he stared over the map in the light. "Alright. We're heading that way."
"Roger that," Mao stated as he unsheathed his shotgun from the scabbard on his back. "I like to keep this handy. . .for close encounters."
"Sure thing Hicks," Shinji replied.
"Mao," Mao corrected.
"What'd I say?"
"Never mind." Mao racked his shotgun and pushed the door leading out of the generator room open. Shinji fell in behind him with the Mk. 17 ready. They crept silently through the base's gore-slicked hallways and found the main hall leading to the detention block. Mao stacked up on the door and Shinji moved to the doorknob. Like, apparently, all doors in the base, it was unlocked.
Paulsen nodded and Shinji threw the door open. Mao swept in and Shinji again tagged on to the end of the stack. What he saw in the other room more than justified why no one had fired as they lined up across the entrance. "What the fuck?" Mao asked.
"I don't know," Shinji replied. There were at least twenty men pawing at the door on one of the cells. "So, what do you guys think is in there?"
"Porn and booze?" Mao wondered. One of the men turned slowly and stared at them, revealing that one of his eyes had been clawed out.
"Uh. . .fire?" Shinji suggested.
"Fire," Mao agreed.
-Intermission
(:ii:)
-Author's notes. Alright, this is a one-shot, but it was just too long so I broke it into two pieces to make it easier to read. Now, go get some snacks, perhaps a carbonated soda. I really doubt anybody will get that reference, but than again. Some of you guys are my fans, so you never know.