Disclaimer – see part 1

Operation Icarus

By Random1377

Part 4 – Joint Ventures

Tea and sweets—two of Henrietta's favorite things—sat ignored on the small table in Triela's room as she and Rico quietly polished their guns. It was a task every gunslinger girl was well used to, so neither really paid attention to what they were doing, allowing their fingers to run on autopilot and letting the quiet of the atmosphere go undisturbed save for the clinking of metal on metal as they brushed their weapons to a lustrous shine.

The old adage, 'a soldier is only as good as his weapon' was one that the Social Welfare Agency took to heart, and every tool (the cyborgs included) was kept well-honed against the time when they would see action next. For the moment, their time was their own, and Rico and Triela found their conversation wandering to their injured friend.

"Have you seen her today?"

Rico raised the barrel of her pistol up to one eye, ensuring that it was clean before replying, "Henrietta you mean? No, I heard she was in surgery again, so I didn't try."

"She's first gen, you know," Triela said matter-of-factly. "Her bones weren't reinforced to level 2 yet. Are yours?"

All of the girls were technically first generation cyborgs, with the exception of the newest girl, Petrushka. There had been some retrofitting, however, in an attempt to make what Rico had overheard Jean call 'version one-point-five' cyborgs. Certain flaws in the design of the first generation girls had been pointed out, such as the fact that the reinforcing of the cyborgs' bone structure was not up to par with the strength of their muscles, resulting in potential breaks if too much pressure was applied.

A case all too strongly illustrated by the largely self-inflicted damage to Henrietta's shoulder.

Rico shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "Claes had it done though. She said it really hurts."

"Oh."

Silence fell as the two reassembled their weapons. They had not spoken about their friend much since returning from the recovery mission, mostly because neither really knew what to say. One of their own had been hurt in the line of duty—what was to discuss? It was an accepted fact that all of them might one day be injured, or even die, for the Social Welfare Agency. There was no need to beat a dead horse.

Rico did have one question that had been on her mind, however, and as she laid her gun on the table, she quietly asked, "Did Henrietta really ask you to kiss that man?"

She half expected Triela to sidestep the question, so it was somewhat of a surprise when the older girl shook her head and replied, "No, I just felt like it."

"Felt like it?" Rico asked, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair. "How come?"

Triela shrugged. "I just did."

"Oh."

Triela holstered her gun and rose to her feet, turning her chair around before straddling it and resting her arms on the back of it. She stared down at the un-tasted tea for a moment before murmuring, "Henrietta liked that man. Did you see her face when she was telling me what to say to him? She was so desperate—it kinda made me feel sorry for her… like she had a second handler, or something…"

Rico waited as the other girl trailed off, clearly lost in thought. "So," she prompted curiously, "that's why you kissed him?"

Blinking as she was roused from her thoughts, Triela shook her head. "Well it wasn't really a kiss," she pointed out. "Just a peck, really. If we were French, no one would have even noticed."

It was tempting for Rico to point out that they weren't French, and that Triela had yet to explain just why she had 'pecked' the young Mithril soldier in the first place, but she kept this observation to herself, reasoning that if Triela wanted her to know, she would tell her.

Though it was a source of much confusion.

If Henrietta didn't ask her to, Rico thought, and she wasn't ordered to… why do it? I don't get it.

There was nothing in their conditioning that prohibited it, Rico mused—or none that she knew of—but really, what would motivate it? A boy they had barely met? It didn't make sense. Rico could see Triela wanting to kiss Hillshire, but then, most of the girls had some kind of feeling for their handlers… it was just the way things were.

Personally, Rico saw nothing special in the Mithril agent. He was handsome enough, she supposed, but nothing out of the ordinary. What little interest she had in the opposite sex to begin with ran towards quiet, gentle people, like… like…

The thought trailed off.

Rico could vaguely recall a feeling regarding music, but that was about it.

"Triela," she said hesitantly, deciding it was time for a change in topic, "did you… understand what was going on with that guy? I mean, I know he was a cyborg, like us, but… but what were those two girls talking about? Do you have any idea?"

Triela bit her lip for a moment. "I don't really know," she admitted slowly. "I think they were talking about psychic stuff—you know, mind reading and things like that—but I don't really believe in that kind of stuff, so I don't really get it."

Holding up one of her hands, Rico slowly curled it into a fist. "Do you think people believe in things like us?" she whispered, spreading her fingers and looking through them into Triela's eyes. "Do you?"

They stared at each other for a moment before Triela snorted. "You're sure getting into the mood," she muttered. "But I get your point." She hesitated, then said, "You believe it, don't you? That they were… fighting with their brains?"

It was Rico's turn to shrug. "Jean hasn't told me what he thinks yet," she said lightly. "But I guess it doesn't matter, right? I mean, they all died."

Triela nodded. "I guess," she said. "They sure looked dead, anyway."

Neither girl had been close enough to hear the medics give this prognosis, but there had been a lot of headshaking over the two supposed telepath girls which led them to conclude that if they were not dead, they must be on their way. As for the man Triela had shot, he was undoubtedly dead, since both girls had seen them pull Henrietta's fingers out of the man's skull.

Cyborg or not, there was no way to survive having your brain clawed out of your head.

"I miss Henrietta," Triela said suddenly, stretching her arms up over her head and looking away from Rico's inquisitive gaze. "She'd say something like, 'I'm sure they're ok,' or, 'let's have some tea.' She wouldn't even think about if they could read minds or not."

"It's scary," Rico mused. "What if they really could read your mind? I… I wouldn't want to be in the same room with them if they could."

Triela frowned. "What if they didn't even have to be close to you to do it?" she murmured. "What if they could do it from anywhere on Earth?"

Involuntarily, Rico shivered. "Don't, Triela," she said timidly. "That's scary."

Smiling, Triela said, "You sound just like Henrietta."

Rico blinked, then slowly returned the smile.

The smiles faded and both girls rose to their feet as an authoritative knock sounded on the door. Pushing it open without waiting for a reply, Hillshire leaned into the room. "We have a mission," he said crisply. "Rico, you come too. Jean's already in the briefing room."

Both girls nodded and started for the door, leaving the tray with their refreshments untouched and pushing all thoughts of their injured friend, kisses, and telepathy far from their minds, glad to be given something more concrete to focus their attention on.

* * *

The air in the Tuatha de Dannon's briefing room was curious at best, with almost no tension present in any of those convened. Word on the massive sub was that the current mission was going to be information gathering—a milk run at best, a minor inconvenience at worst. Most of the assembled Mithril officers were more interested in hearing about their captain than this nothing mission, so all eyes were trained expectantly on Kalinin and Mardukas as they consulted a plain manila folder and spoke in low voices, apparently ignorant of the mass of waiting bodies behind them.

Sousuke, for one, was doubly anxious. Kaname was his charge, and perhaps a little bit more, honestly speaking. The captain fit into a similar category, though perhaps to a lesser degree. Both were important to him, and so it was important to him to find out where they had been for the past few days. Every enquiry he had submitted on their status had been met with avoidance or outright stonewalling, and the young sergeant was starting to get worried.

If everything was fine, where were they? If something was wrong, why had there been no announcement? Things did not add up, and when things did not add up, it usually indicated that something was (as the American military might say) F.U.B.A.R.

"We are ready to begin," Kalinin said, finally turning his attention to the assembled agents and standing at full attention as he addressed them. "As you well know, we have recently completed a mission involving a renegade cybernetic operative known as Adam, during which Captain Testarossa and our friend, Kaname Chidori, were disabled."

He gestured for Mardukas to take over, inclining his head gratefully as the other man stepped forward. "At this time," he began crisply, "Captain Testarossa and Miss Chidori are in an unconscious, but stable condition. We have no ETA for when they might awaken, but our medical team assures me that both are exhibiting excellent Alpha wave activity, as well as steady REM activity. To put it plainly—they are both asleep and dreaming, and we don't know when they will wake up."

The two men waited for this information to sink in before Kalinin stepped forward once more. "We have every confidence that both ladies will recover very soon," he said confidently. "In the meantime, however, we cannot remain idle. Mithril is an organization founded on action, and the time has come for us to mobilize once again."

"It has come to our attention," Mardukas said smoothly, "that the Daedalus may not have been the only device that Adam was involved with. We therefore… yes Sergeant, you have a question?"

Sousuke lowered his hand. "With all due respect, sir," he said, "it was my impression that Adam was working alone. He never mentioned receiving any financial support, and spoke several times of his resourcefulness in reactivating the Daedalus single-handedly."

Kalinin cleared his throat. "Adam was a madman," he murmured coolly. "And as you well know, madmen are often bankrolled by other madmen—or did you think that Adam saved up to restart the Icarus Project with his paper route money?" Before Sousuke could reply, Kalinin continued. "In case you'd also forgotten, Adam was a Whispered… and he had plenty of time to run unchecked, developing whatever he chose. Fortunately for us, he was also unfocused and deranged, limiting the projects he would consider worth his time to pursue. Unfortunately for us, we suspected that at least one of his projects has the potential to cause great harm. That, Sergeant, is why we are here."

"This will be a joint mission," Mardukas explained as soon as Sousuke had nodded. "There will be an insertion team, and a support team. Each team will consist of members of Mithril and a third party—the Italian based Social Welfare Agency. If you will turn your attention to the door on the left, you will now meet your counterparts from that organization."

Nodding to the door, Mardukas glanced at the assembled soldiers, taking careful note of their reactions as the agents from the Social Welfare Agency filed in.

He was not disappointed.

"They're just kids!"

Indeed, the group filing into the briefing room was comprised of half adults, and half adolescent girls. First came a tall man with short blonde hair and a girl of about ten. Next, a man with black hair and dark brown eyes followed by a girl with two ponytails. Finally, after a moment's delay, one last man, with black hair and steel blue eyes trailed by a girl with short brown hair, her left arm immobilized by a simple white sling.

Sousuke nearly rose to his feet, but it was unnecessary, as Henrietta immediately scanned the room, her face lighting in a happy smile as she found him in the crowd. Hurrying to catch her counterpart, her smile fell away, and Sousuke was reminded that she was as much a soldier as he was… and this was not a time for fraternization—this was business, and they were there to work.

Mardukas sighed as the chatter slowly died down. "I assure you," he said firmly, "that each of these agents is as well trained as any of you." He surveyed the skeptical faces before him, taking note of Sousuke's unsmiling stare. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?" Mardukas suggested, turning to the blonde man for confirmation.

"Rico," the man murmured, "step forward."

The small blonde girl broke ranks and moved forward to stand in front of the man, saying only, "Yes sir," and waiting patiently for her next instruction.

"No killing."

"Yes sir."

A small laugh rose up from some of the soldiers, though it was quickly quelled when they noticed that Sousuke was shaking his head.

"Sir," he said diffidently, "I don't mean to speak out of turn, but this is more dangerous than it needs to be."

"Perhaps," Mardukas said tiredly, "but as you can see by looking around you, it is the only way to establish credibility."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, the man who had ordered Rico to step forward asked, "Do you have someone in mind, Commander?"

"I'll take volunteers," Mardukas informed him, nodding as a big solider (the one who had laughed loudest when Henrietta and the rest had come in) eagerly stepped forward. "Very well," Mardukas sighed. "Lieutenant, your orders are simple. Please subdue this young lady as quickly as possible. Non-lethal force only, if you please."

"I ain't gonna go easy on ya girly," the man warned, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "Hope ya got good dental."

He swung without further warning, throwing a wicked haymaker directly at the girl's jaw, but a moment before it connected, she turned her head to the side, her hair fluttering slightly in the breeze generated by the man's ham-sized fist. A few chuckles could be heard in the crowd, especially when the man threw another punch, only to have it sidestepped, leaving the girl once more unscathed.

And so began a bizarre dance as the man tried over and over to land a hit, but the more he swung, the more the blonde girl ducked, wove, and moved to the side, leaving him hitting nothing but air as the soft laughter in the room grew, eventually turning into good-natured ribbing and catcalls—all of which Mardukas allowed, shaking his head as Sousuke opened his mouth to lodge another protest.

"Rico," the blonde man said finally.

"Yes sir?" the girl replied, ducking back to avoid yet another hit.

"…you do have permission to retaliate."

The girl nodded. "Yes sir."

When the big man swung next, Rico stepped to the side, catching him by the wrist and driving her elbow into his stomach. The man dropped to his knees, coughing for breath and cursing at the girl standing in front of him. When a few more snickers rose from the crowd, the man turned an angry shade of red. Drawing his gun, he let out a growl of rage… but when he thrust it towards the girl, she slapped her hand over the top, clamping her fingers around the barrel and stopping the slide. With a sudden, sharp twist, she yanked the gun from his hand and deftly disassembled it, dropping the component pieces onto the floor at her feet.

Her expression never changed.

"Well then," Mardukas said, "I think that-"

Screaming, the lieutenant drew a large combat knife from his boot and lunged at the small girl. As Mardukas opened his mouth to order the other soldiers to intervene, Rico caught the man by the wrist and dropped to one knee, driving the palm of her free hand into his elbow with quick, brutal efficiency. A sickening crunch signaled the real end of the demonstration, and as the man fell to the floor in a dead faint, Rico turned to Mardukas and gave him an apologetic bow.

"I'm sorry sir," she whispered, her voice sounding like a shout in the now-silent room. "I didn't mean to break the bone."

Mardukas cleared his throat, motioning for someone to call for a medic. "That concludes the demonstration," he murmured. "Does anyone have any questions?"

Everyone gaped at Sousuke raised his hand.

"Yes, sergeant?"

Keeping his eyes on Henrietta, Sousuke said, "Which team will I be on, sir?"

* * *

Henrietta had never been a fan of helicopters. Loud, bumpy, and always cold, the lumbering carriers she was used to were a necessary evil in the military, which did not mean that she had to like it, only that she didn't have a choice in when to ride in one. For this ride, she did not mind it so much. The two teams had been packed into one copter, so there was a lot of body heat to go around, and the fact that she was sandwiched between two battle-equipped men meant that she was well-padded on both sides.

Besides which, she was nestled between her favorite person in the world (on her left), and the young man she had endured Hell with (on her right). The only real regret she had was the tension inside the cabin, making it almost impossible to talk to Jose or Sousuke, the latter being foremost on her mind, as she had not even seen him for what felt like an eternity.

Weeks, she reminded herself as the helicopter continued along its way. It's only been a couple weeks since that time, but it feels like so much longer. She glanced discretely at Sousuke, but he was staring straight ahead of him with his arms folded across his chest—every inch the solider. I wonder if his friend still cooks for him, she thought. He looks like he's been-

Her thought was interrupted as the blonde man sitting across from Sousuke abruptly cleared his throat and said, "No hard feelings, huh?"

When it was clear that the man was talking to her, Henrietta murmured, "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"The shoulder," the man said, nodding towards her sling. "I figured I should say sorry now before things get started—just in case you're the kind of girl who carries a grudge."

Henrietta's brow furrowed for a moment, but it quickly cleared as she realized, "You were the sniper at the museum." When the man gave her a weak smile, Henrietta said, "It's ok, sir. We were enemies. I understand."

Rubbing the back of his neck, the man mumbled, "I shoot her in the arm, she calls me sir." Raising his voice he said, "How about you call me Kurz, ok? Never really liked the whole sir thing, ya know? Makes me feel old."

"You're quite the marksman," Jose observed, taking over for Henrietta as she looked to him for help. (She had not been given specific instructions NOT to refer to anyone by first name, but it was not something she was used to.) "Henrietta told me that she couldn't find your position… and her eyesight is rather good, so your range must have been at least, what, a hundred yards?"

Kurz grinned. "Seventy actually, but not far off." He looked at Henrietta with newfound appreciation. "Not many people can spot a concealed target even fifty yards away without a scope or binoculars. Your eyesight must be great."

Blushing faintly, Henrietta whispered, "Thank you, sir."

"Didn't I just say-aw forget it," Kurz groaned, throwing his hands melodramatically into the air.

After a moment of quiet, Rico tentatively asked, "At seventy yards… wouldn't it be hard to account for wind velocity, sir?"

The grin returned to Kurz' face. "Someone knows her stuff," he said, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, it's hard at that range, but not impossible—and being that far out makes it harder for people to see me… like your friend here. If I was at thirty yards, she would have spotted me long before I ever got a shot off."

Rico nodded, looking hesitantly at Jean to see if he minded her talking to a stranger before asking, "But when you're that far away, and you can't be accurate…" she trailed off, struggling to find the words to ask what she wanted to ask without offending the blonde man.

Kurz dropped her a wink. "Yeah," he said, answering her unasked question, "being that far away makes it a little harder to be accurate, but if you can get the first shot off, you usually don't have to worry about getting the bullet exactly in the right place a hundred percent of the time. See what I'm saying?"

Pondering this, Rico slowly nodded. "A disabling shot is as good as a killing shot most of the time, right?"

"Exactly!"

Henrietta stole a glance at Jean as the two snipers began talking about how this strategy might apply in lowlight situations, but Rico's handler seemed completely indifferent to the conversation. Looking around, she realized that just about everyone else on the helicopter was trying to contain smiles or even outright laughter as the conversation grew more and more animated.

Confused, she looked to Triela, who smiled at her knowingly and whispered, "Looks like Rico made a friend."

* * *

Another mission, another chance for things to go wrong. Sousuke knew this was a pessimistic attitude, but he had learned long ago that pessimism and survival often went hand in hand. Another way to put it, he supposed, was 'anything will go wrong that can,' or to put it yet another way, Sousuke and Murphy would have gotten along famously.

"Insertion team is in," Kurz reported. "Guess now we wait, huh?"

"Affirmative," Sousuke replied, turning to the man at his side. "Anything to add, Agent Jean?"

"Nothing," the older man replied, peering through a set of binoculars at the mansion below them. "We have a good position. Between your man and Rico, we should have full coverage of the entire building."

It was the longest sentence the blonde man had spoken to Sousuke since their arrival. Absently, he wondered if that meant that he was warming up, or that he was nervous.

They were situated on a small hill overlooking the posh mansion where the infiltration portion of the operation was taking place. Triela had not complained about being forced into a frilly dress (Henrietta had confided in Sousuke that the girl preferred boys' style clothes), but the expression on her face had spoken volumes.

The biggest frown, however, had come from Melissa when she found out that she was designated to pose as Triela's mother. At the suggestion—or rather, the look she shot Mardukas—someone had thoughtfully suggested that she play the role of a trophy wife instead. The pairing, it turned out, had been complimentary. Triela's features were similar enough to her 'father's' to convincingly pass her off, and Melissa made the perfect stepmother, though she did argue for a paired insertion rather than including Triela, just to 'make it more realistic.'

How much of this was based in her desire to avoid bringing a young girl into the line of fire, and how much was based on her desire to have Hillshire to herself, was up for debate.

"Do we have any word yet on what they're looking for?" Jose enquired. "It's going to be an awfully pointless mission if we just have them wandering around hoping to find secret documents."

Sousuke shook his head. "All we know is that Adam's last project was supposedly housed here," he said. "What it is, we're still not sure. Personally, I would have rather known who was funding him, so we would know what level of opposition to expect."

"Agreed," Jean muttered. "Normally, most people wouldn't suspect a little girl—which is Triela's role in all this… but considering that this Adam character was a cyborg, we should assume that anyone he was affiliated with will know who made him and know all about the way we work. Basically," he concluded, "we should assume that we're walking into a trap."

Nodding, Sousuke silently decided that it was nerves driving the conversation rather than comfort or admiration.

"There's some kind of commotion," Kurz said suddenly. "People are moving towards the door… can't see why, but they're panicking."

"Rico, Weber, it's too bright in there," Jean said smoothly. "Our people have night vision. Make it night."

Kurz pulled away from his scope for a moment. "Hey Rico," he said with a rakish grin, "Betcha I can take out all the lights on the second floor in less than fifteen seconds."

Rico just stared as the gaijin sighted down his scope and did exactly as he said, darkening the second level of the mansion in exactly fourteen seconds.

"Your turn," he said brightly.

Looking to Jean for a moment to make sure it was ok to make sport out of serious business, Rico peered through her scope and did her best to match Kurz's speed and accuracy.

"Darn!" she complained under her breath as every light went down on the first floor except for one.

"Not bad," Kurz said as she took care of the last light. "Not bad at all."

Rico gave him a sunny smile, pleased with the approval in his voice. "Thank you Mister Kurz."

Kurz laughed. "It's just Kurz, kiddo." Looking back through his scope, he reported, "Lights are out, chief. We're on night vision starting now. Anyone you want us to paint?"

Jean peered through the binoculars. "Keep track of our people," he said quietly. "Silence anyone that gets in their way. Sergeant," he turned to Sousuke. "I haven't heard anything on that radio of yours."

"We're being jammed," Sousuke confirmed, rising to his feet and grabbing his assault rifle. Slinging the strap over his shoulder, he said, "Once more of the civilians are out of the way, we should move in."

"Agreed," Jean murmured. "I don't like the way this is going down. We should have brought more personnel."

Sousuke nodded. "Agreed."

Without looking up from his scope, Kurz mumbled, "I'm glad you guys agree so much. Really makes me feel confident that you're on the same page."

Jean and Sousuke exchanged a glance, and Sousuke shook his head and looked away. "You're embarrassing our organization, Kurz," he muttered.

"Jean?"

"Yes, Rico?"

"I've got something on the west side of the building," the gunslinger girl reported. "Some kind of light."

"Flashlight?" Jean asked, looking towards the area Rico indicated.

As he raised the binoculars, the entire west wall of the mansion exploded outward, showering the expensive cars in the parking lot with glass, wood, rock, and insulation. The confused screams in the mansion became screams of terror, and the exodus became a stampede as the partygoers ran from the sound of the explosion.

Sousuke stared at the destruction, his hands tightening on his rifle. "It's Italy all over," he whispered. "Kurz, where are Mao and her team?"

"Caught in a knot of people," Kurz replied. "They're almost through… moving towards the west of the building… looks like they don't have their guns out yet."

Jean nodded his approval. "Trying to keep from making more panic," he said. "Good work."

Kurz groaned. "Bad news," he said tensely, "You know all those bedrooms on the second floor? I've got men in black coming out of them and heading downstairs. All armed… first few making contact with the party people, and… not opening fire. Looks like they're trying to corral them… moving them towards the doors." He pulled his eye away from his scope for a moment. "Man, when the party's over at this place they really want you out in a hurry."

"Jean?" Rico piped up. "There's also a group heading into the building through the front door. It looks like they came out of the garage."

"More crowd control?" Kurz wondered.

"Yes sir," Rico nodded, "it looks like it."

"Damn it," Jean muttered. "This is what we get for trusting intelligence."

Sousuke squinted down at the mansion. "No one's shooting yet, and our people are being herded along with the rest, so they haven't been singled out yet."

Jean lowered his binoculars. "But the lights are out, so they know we're here," he observed. "It's just a matter of time before they start frisking people or just firing into the crowd."

For several moments, Sousuke considered their next move. Jose and Henrietta were waiting in the back of the jeep Mao, Hillshire, and Triela had arrived in, so they were close enough to move in, but even with Rico and Kurz on fire support Sousuke doubted the two would get very far into the mansion on their own.

"We're going to have to go in," he decided, turning to Jean for confirmation. When the older man nodded, Sousuke said, "Kurz, can you and Miss Rico cover all seven of us?"

Without looking up from his scope, Kurz said, "Of course, but that won't leave Rico with much to do."

Slapping a clip into his rifle, Sousuke muttered, "This is serious, Kurz. That's a big mansion, and a lot of people."

"We won't let you down, Mister Sousuke," Rico said brightly.

Jean tightened the straps on his bullet proof vest. "Normally, we don't like to separate frattello," he told Sousuke. "Rico, I'm counting on you."

The girl's eyes lit up. "I'll do my best, Jean!"

There was something… unhealthy about her zeal, in Sousuke's opinion, but he couldn't afford to spend time pondering it just then. He was determined to make sure that this mission didn't turn into a disaster.

"Let's move."

Continued…

Preread courtesy of Stahn Aileron and Alpha Zulu.