OPERATION: TORCHBEARER
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! GX. My friend DarkScytheQueen owns most of the OCs you'll see throughout this story.
Kilnorc: This is a rewrite of "WHAT LEGENDS ARE MADE OF". The reasons I'm doing this are simple: 1) The original fic kinda strayed too far from the intended plotline of the combined effort of myself and DSQ. 2) I felt very bad for leaving this hanging while a good friend of mine was working with me on it, so you could call this an attempt at fanfiction redemption. This is sort of also inspired to do after playing Grand Theft Auto III and discovering Katekyo Hitman Reborn (or KHR for short), of which DSQ loves.
Notes
"This kind of speech means another language"
This kind of speech is thought.
"This kind of speech is normal speech"
Domino City, 20XX
When a rainstorm comes to Domino, a lot of people either travel with some kind of protection over their heads like umbrellas, briefcases, or even newspapers. Then again, a lot of other people don't go outside at all, not wanting to get their clothes and hair ruined in the weather. However, there are some people who are forced to be out in the rain. One in particular is out in the rain right now, not because he got locked outside a building, or something like that. No, he's outside in the rain running for his very life.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Shit! the lost individual covered his head with his arms as he bolted around the nearest corner, bullets lodging into the corner just as he passed, barely missing him, This is frickin' insane! It's one thing to threaten myself and the others, but to actually come and try to take one of us out! I gotta get outta here, I gotta warn the others!
"Hey, punk!"
The runner acme to a halt just a few feet from a group of rough-looking street thugs, "Oh shit...,"
The apparent leader nodded, raindrops rolling down his face, "Damn right 'oh shit' punk, this is our territory! If you want to get out, you'll have to pay an escort fee,"
"A fee?!" the runner looked back the way he came for a brief moment, "Look, I'm sorry, I don't have any cash on me right now, but I need to get out of here! Please, there are some people right behind me and they're trying to kill me!"
The gang leader was about to ask what he was talking about when at least three people dressed in black suits turned a corner and began to advance on them. He growled and shoved the escapee to the side as he drew a pistol, "Just who the hell do you think you guys are? This is our turf!"
Before he, or any of his followers, could fire off a single round at the intruding suits, said suits raised their own pistols and opened fire on them. One by one, the thugs went down, bullet holes in either their heads or in their chests, dead before they even hit the pavement. Looking around, they couldn't find anything but turned over trash cans, soaked cardboard boxes and wooden crates and who knows what else laying in the street with the fresh corpses.
"Where'd that bastard get to?" one of the suited men asked in Italian, "We were right on his ass!"
"He can't have gotten too far. If these low level scum...," another of the group kicked the dead gang leader in the ribs, "...are occupying these back alleys, he's bound to run into them. They'll be a small hindrance to us, but they can actually be of use by keeping the brat in one place,"
"We can't stay here. Someone would've heard the gunshots, even over the storm. If we get caught, we'll be involved in cop killings and our orders from the Don were only for the boy. This could be a major problem if the police come,"
"Right. Okay, here's the plan. We split up and search for the boy. Shoot to injure only, if he resists and you have no other choice, put a slug through his head. If anything, we'll present the body to the Don and he'll see what to do with the body. Probably use it as a motivator to those foolish enough to deny him,"
With that, the three suited assassins scattered and ran through the back alley ways, looking for their intended victim, who had just taken refuge in a large, soaked cardboard box near a dumpster. Lifting said box, his blue eyes scanned the area and when he saw that it was clear, he let out a soft sigh and pushed the box off himself. His dark brown hair was matted against his head thanks to the rain, his blue eyes darting from side to side.
That was close. Gotta remind myself to thank Gameboy for ranting about Metal Gear Solid... he looked around, making sure there it was completely clear before he made his escape, I gotta get the hell outta here while the getting is good!
The back alleys of Domino City were like a labyrinth, even to the citizens of the city. A lot of people who had lived in Domino all their lives would still get lost in the back alleys if they didn't have their bearings. For the runaway, it was just as bad, if not worse. Coming to an intersection, he looked in all directions, minus the one he came from.
Great, just great! It's raining, I'm cold and wet, I got a bunch of killers after me, and to top it off, I'm frickin' lost! he snorted and looked at the choices, peering through the increasing amount of rain that poured down from the heavens above, It's like a modern Labyrinth movie...except there's no Goblin King and no Minotaur making my life more hellish right now. Guess I should be thankful that. Then again, if I'm lost, what are the chances that those assholes would be able to find me if they get lost themselves?
BAM!
A bullet whizzed past his ear, just grazing it a little. Yelping, he shot his hand up and held his ear before looking back to see one of the suited killers running towards him.
Man, this is the Matrix all over again! He thought before bolting into a nearby warehouse, hoping to find something to hide behind to buy him sometime. As he entered said warehouse, he came to a sudden stop when he saw the only things in the warehouse were metal support beams and random trash skewn about the floor. Sure, there were some catwalks near the ceiling, but there wasn't anyway to get up to them. There wasn't any place he could take refuge from the assassin! He was going to die there and then!
"Hold it right there, kid!"
Turning around, the young man saw his would-be killer standing in the warehouse doorway, holding a dripping wet pistol, his cold eyes locked onto his blue eyes.
"You have no where to go, boy," the killer said evenly, slowly approaching his target, "Nothing to hide behind and there's no way you can outrun me. Without the rain in here, I have a clear shot of you now, and if you even think of making a break for it, I'll put you down like a damn dog. I'm giving you a choice here: surrender and live, or resist and die. Either way is fine with me, but I at least believe in giving those who go against the family a chance if possible,"
The young man grinned, "What would the Boss do if you killed me, huh? How would he feel?"
"I honestly don't think he'd give a rat's ass, kid. He's only after what your mentor and his friends have, especially after the debt he's got with the Boss. Alive or dead, it doesn't really matter to him. If we bring you alive, he'll use you as a bargaining chip. If you're brought in dead, he'll just use that as a tool to get the other idiots to finally do what he wants," he pulled the hammer back on his pistol, "What's the choice?"
Aw...crap... the runaway looked all around him, He's right, I can't go anywhere, I got nothing to defend myself with. I'm screwed!
THAP!
"OW! SONOFABITCH!"
A clattering was heard and the runner snapped his head around to see the assassin was no longer holding his gun, but the hand that was holding the gun a few moments before. Looking down, he saw the gun laying on the floor. The gunman looked around, "What the hell was that?! You got backup here or something?"
Hell you're asking me?! the runner looked around, What's he talking about?
The gunman looked down at his hand which had a large, red welt in the middle of the back of his hand, "Whoever did that is gonna pay!" he reached down to pick up his discarded weapon with his other hand...
THAP!
"MOTHERF-!"
"You can keep trying to get your piece, but I warn ya, I'm a good shot!" a new voice echoed around the warehouse, "I can blind you from my spot easy, so just keep still!"
I know that voice! the runner grinned and looked around for the owner, "What the hell are you doing here?" he called out to the voice.
Movement from one of the catwalks, in one of the darker areas, caught his eye. From the darkness, a figure stepped out, holding what looked like a rifle. Coming to the light, the runner could see a head of messy, violet colored hair and a single blue eye (the left side of his face covered by hair).
"Jake, what are you doing up there?"
"Hang on, D, I'm coming down first," the newcomer looked around and found an old metal hook on a chain hanging from the ceiling nearby. Slinging the rifle, he grabbed the chain, the one called Jake climbed onto the catwalk's railing and jumped, "LOOK OUT BELOW!" he called out as he used his weight to lower himself to the floor, landing in between "D" and the gunman. He landed with a grunt and turned to "D", "Army brat with a BB gun to the rescue! That must sting your pride, huh, Damien?"
D, or Damien, shook his head, "A BB gun, Jake? That's what you're using?!"
"Yeah...so?"
"SO?!" Damien nodded to the hitman behind his friend, "He's got a real gun with real ammo! What are you gonna do with a BB gun?!"
"Hey, if it wasn't for this BB gun, you'd have a bullet hole the size of a quarter in you!" Jake said defensively, "Be glad I'm packing real metal ammo in this, I doubt I could've disarmed him otherwise!"
"You're an American army brat and you bring a BB gun to a gunfight?" Damien was about to go off on his friend more when he saw the gunman reach down for his gun again, "Jake!"
With surprising speed, Jake not only brought his rifle off his shoulder, turned it over above his shoulder and fired off another shot, nailing the assassin in the forehead with another pellet. This time, the gunman went down like a sack of potatoes with a red welt in the middle of his forehead.
"I may be an army brat, but I don't have a license to kill...yet," Jake brough his BB rifle back in front of him, holding it casually, "The worst I can do, besides knocking someone out with these puppies," he patted his rifle, the sound of metal balls clinking against each other was heard, "...is paralysis of the hands. Hit them in just the right spot, they can go numb for hours,"
That explains why the bastard lost his gun... Damien glanced at the KO'ed hitman, "Must not have done same damage to his other hand, he tried going for his gun after you shot him a second time,"
Jake shrugged, "Some people try to use their hands, even after they go numb, they're just idiots that way,"
A muffled ringing sound was heard from within Jake's large coat. The BB-packing brat grinned and dug into his coat for a short time before pulling out a cellphone, "Something tells me this is for us, D," he flipped the phone open and held it to his ear, "Y'ello? Uh huh...uh huh...yeah, he's here," he looked at Damien, "Naw, he's fine. He ran into some company, but he's fine, you wanna talk to him?" a moment or two passed, "Alright, gotcha. Right, I know where it is. Yeah, we'll be there shortly. Later," he hung up the phone and slung his BB rifle around onto his shoulder again, "The big players and the others are okay, they want us to meet with them as soon as possible,"
"Okay, where are they?"
"Classified information,"
"Don't pull that bullshit with me, Revastan!" a large vein appeared on Damien's forehead while his friend/savior grinned slyly, "That's annoying as hell!"
"Tough luck, deal with it," Jake turned and looked down at the hitman, "What're we gonna do with him?"
Damien sighed and rubbed his temples, "I don't know, I just wanna get out of here, Jake," he watched as his friend bent down in front of the downed assassin, "What the hell are you doing now?"
Jake reached over and picked up the pistol that lay in front of him, "Beretta M 1951 semi-automatic pistol with a detachable clip that fits eight rounds plus one in the chamber," he nodded and slipped the pistol into the back of his pants, "I'm keeping this, it'll save my Dad from getting me an 18th birthday present,"
"Can we get going now, Rambo?"
"Yeah, yeah, we can go. C'mon, before his friends show up,"
Kilnorc: There's the start of this rewrite. BB gun idea is DSQ's not mine, I looked up information on the real gun mentioned. This fic may seem a bit confusing to ones who haven't read the original fic, but I promise the reason for all this will come in next few chapters. Until then, later guys!