Thank you to those who reviewed and I'm happy to know you are enjoying this fiction. Knowing someone is reading and enjoying it gives me pleasure and encourages me to write some more. Also, I hope you were satisfied with my answers Greydon Creed, thank you for showing such an interest in what I was doing, I appreciate it. To all readers, feel free to message me or leave a review with any questions, comments, praise, flaming, or constructive criticism. I am always striving to be a better writer. Please, enjoy this next chapter.
Australia, Mithril Safe House.
Chest, chest, head. Knocks them down, keeps them dead.
Yang tapped one-two-three-pause on the armchair of his recliner. It was strange. He'd never had this habit before, repeating training mantras. Maybe it was just another scar from Sierra Leone. He sighed and forced his finger to stop moving, reaching out with his left hand to take a drink of water he'd poured in a glass. To his right on the end table between the recliner and the couch was his sidearm and a notepad on which he'd made a list of things for Price to purchase in the morning.
Yang had left the lights off and had the curtains closed, immersing him self in total darkness. It was creepy and dramatic, yes, but such was his mood. He was feeling guilty about his outburst earlier, and was trying to find the appropriate way to apologize come morning.
It wasn't their fault, he knew. Some moron at Intel probably assigned people to protect Miss Kamov based on what they read in their files instead of actually speaking with them. He knew that Walker and Vikowitz were probably good shooters and could be counted on in a fight. But GROM and CAG didn't train in VIP protection, and neither has much of a budget for outsourcing training. No idiot at Intel would know that, they probably just saw in their files that both of them were ex-Special Forces and thought they'd be good candidates to protect Miss Kamov.
The other two, Price and Veronika, were spooks. They were probably good spooks, but neither of their former intelligence agencies trained in VIP protection. It was even in doubt whether they could shoot, but both were here because frankly those are the types of personnel Intelligence has. Veronika was a bit of a wildcard though. What were the odds that the Russian ex-KGB officer had been the mechanic of the bunch? And then there was the way she looked at him. He'd have to confront her about it later, maybe after he gathered some intel from Walker.
Rubbing his face, he froze as he heard some movement to his right. It took him only a moment to recognize via smell and instinct who it was.
"Yes, Ana?..." he sighed and relaxed again. She gulped in the darkness before taking a few steps, feeling her way ahead of her. He listened to her fumble her hand along the couch before he decided to give her some light, pulling the lamp cord to his left. She flinched as her eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness.
She was wearing a white cotton camisole that stopped just under her navel and a pair of matching pajamas. That camisole was one size too small, he thought, but wasn't exactly feeling up to being prudish at the moment. He figured she wasn't leaving anytime soon so he gestured to the couch beside him and took another drink from his water glass.
Ana hesitated as she looked between the couch, the gun on the end table and the grumpy Korean in the recliner. She eventually sat down, brought her legs up and held her knees to her chest. She watched him more or less ignore her for several moments before asking, "What happened?"
Yang frowned a little, a part of him knowing what she meant but consciously avoiding it. "What happened what?"
"I don't know. I just get the feeling something happened. When we first met, you seemed like you were hiding something. Is that what's bothering you?" Her eyes caught fire from the lamp light, and he avoided looking into them. He didn't respond for awhile before replying evasively,
"You're smarter than you look." She seemed to find this amusing, smirking over the top of her knees.
"I'm just not as ditzy as I pretend to be. Are you going to answer my question?"
Yang snorted at that. "No, I'm not." He took another drink of water.
Anastasiya stared at Yang, trying to understand him. There was a kind of emptiness around him, like there was something missing from the picture. His expression was something she'd seen on her father's, after he started drinking himself to death. An expressionless guard that she had later learned he wore because to wear anything else would have exposed him self to the reality of things. She did not like being reminded of this.
"You might feel better if you talk about it. I don't mind, I'm used to helping my friends like that. It does suck that once they tell me their problems, it feels like it's now on my shoulders, but it lifts some of the weight off theirs. I could do the same for you." She tried again. She was surprised when he laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound.
"My problem is one you don't want to carry Ana, trust me. It's harsher than anything you're used to." He took another drink, trying to keep his temper from getting too hot.
"I've listened to some rough things Yang, my friend went through a bad divorce. Her father beat her mother sometimes. I watched my dad drink himself death in front of my mom and I. I know someone whose boyfriend OD'd on heroin." She pressed.
"I killed four children who had taken turns raping and dismembering a woman while a fifth watched and jerked off. They were on heroin too." Yang replied in a monotonous tone.
His words struck deep. Her entire body seized up as if to defend her self from this terrible truth about him. But it was too late. His words repeated over and over again in her head. Her chest tightened and she couldn't breath, as she realized she was in a room with a child murderer. Her chest opened again to let in fresh air, which she drew rapidly upon in an attempt to calm down.
Yang glanced at her to see the girl hugging her knees tighter, looking terribly confused and afraid and on the verge of hyperventilating. He swallowed, the image striking something in his emptiness and causing a tiny pang of regret. He hadn't meant to snap at her like that. She was just a kid, she couldn't have known. But part of him didn't care to console her, telling him that she deserved a taste of the real world outside her blessed existence.
Ana couldn't find anything to say after that. He didn't care to explain or elaborate, or console her. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, before Ana wordlessly got to her feet and trudged back to her room, holding herself. He didn't watch her go, but he glimpsed the way she moved and the final look she'd given at the very edge of the light. Waiting until he heard her door close before turning off the lamp with another tug. Sheathed in darkness once more, he felt the unspoken word at the end.
Monster…
9:30 AM, four hours and thirty minutes after sunrise
Yang woke aware of two things. One, he wasn't going to get anymore sleep, although he had an allowance of two more hours. And two, the entire team was in the kitchen having a heated debate. He pushed the covers back and knuckled an eye socket, stifling a yawn. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he scratched his bare chest and rose to his feet, the other hand adjusting his pajama pants.
He could smell breakfast, guessing Price had cooked again. Yang felt bad about last night's dinner, which had been silent and gloomy. The food had been delicious, certainly a cut above the Mess hall at Mithril. Yang wished he had had time to savor it, but the soldier habit of eating as quickly as possible and the rather uncomfortable stares from everyone gathered had kept him from doing so.
He got up, then got down and pumped out fifty quick push ups to get his blood flowing. As he did, he listened to the team's debate, which was naturally about him.
"Guy is a bloody wanker if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you, Price. Like it or not, the kid knows what he's doing." It was Vikowitz, Yang deduced.
"So? This is Intel's Op, not Tactical's. You and Walker are just as good as he is, he's just taking this whole thing too seriously. Ana's not in any danger, this whole thing is just a bloody power play between the division heads."
"The corporal is the only one of us with actual training and experience in personal protection. They didn't teach us how to guard VIP's, wasn't in CAG's mission statement. And it damn sure ain't a spook thing either. GROM don't train for that, they do military and CT work." Walker said.
"Walker is correct. We didn't cover that in GROM. He was a bit of an ass last night, but he called it like he saw it. And now that I know it, I agree with him. We'll have to start being more careful. If this is a power play, we're making Intel look even more like the idiots we already appear to be. D-Ops is still catching flak from the higher ups on the Hong Kong bit."
"He was there, in Hong Kong. Led one of the PRT's." A voice that could only be Veronica's spoke up.
"Fucking hell, the guy hates us." Price said. He wasn't nearly as suave as he seemed, Yang decided.
"He's been nothing but a professional so far. But there is something there, it ain't hate though. Keep your eyes on him, I'll see what I can dig up. There's something that wasn't mentioned in his file, changed him. It must've been recent or it would have been in there already."
Yang opened the door after Walker finished speaking, pulling a grey t-shirt over his body. The conversation halted and all eyes went to him. He surprised them all by replying rather calmly, "Morning."
There was some hesitation there before Vikowitz, followed by Walker replied "Good morning. Breakfast?" Price sighed behind the two and began to fix another eggs in the hole for the corporal. Yang walked over to the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Yang actually hated orange juice, but the sourness appealed to him this morning.
As Price put a plate with a piece of toast, one side coated in egg, on the counter, Yang sat up on the nearby stool and looked around at the team, taking a deep breath.
"I owe you all an apology. My behavior last night was inexcusable. I should have presented my complaints in a more professional manner. I didn't mean to tear you or your unit down. I'm sure you're all very good at your jobs. I hope we can move past it though and work together to remedy our strategy…is that fair?" He looked around, meeting each gaze in turn. He would really have to have a talk with Veronika about those looks.
It took a few seconds, but eventually they all nodded, except Veronika who simply gave her consent by not rebuking him. Yang pulled out the notepad from last night from where he'd tucked it into his waistline and put it in front of Price.
"This is just a list of some things that I think would help us and make our job easier. If you all think I'm being unreasonable, then please let me know. Once again, I'm not trying to run this unit. You are still in charge Agent Walker. I just want to support you as best I can." Yang stared intently at the team leader, who smiled and nodded gently in reply.
"You could have presented it a bit less calloused, but that doesn't mean you weren't right. I was planning to show you our radios and current equipment after breakfast so we can flesh out your list a bit more. Vikowitz and I will watch Ana, she doesn't have anything scheduled for today. You, Price and Veronika go take a spin with one of the Ford's. She knows the in and outs of those vehicles, she helped oversee their modifications. You can drop Price off to go shopping while you two find someplace to put the vehicle through her paces."
Yang nodded and cracked a tiny smile. Walker had taken this all rather well, and he was glad the experienced leader was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and organize things for him. Everyone seemed fine with the plan, mostly because it was Walker who had put it together. Veronika still looked like someone had ordered her to wade through raw sewage.
After breakfast, Vikowitz went to wake Ana up, Price cleaned the kitchen and Veronika returned to her room. Walker and Yang retreated into the dining room where Veronika had laid out the available gear. It was more or less a good news bad news situation. Walker started with the radios.
"These are brand new. Mic, earpiece and control." He pointed to each item, all of which fit in the palm of his hand. The control was about the size of a flash memory stick, the earpiece a tiny hearing aid, and the mic had dimensions a fraction larger than a quarter's.
"The control is connected to the mic by this small wire. The controls are on the side of the stick. Volume wheel, frequency wheel, and three buttons for mapping preset frequencies to. Mic goes on the inside of your collar and is noise canceling. The earpiece is wireless, but uses beam transmission technology so it can't be jammed. The frequencies can be jammed but the link between your mic and ear cannot. These guys can run for thirty six hours straight before you need to change batteries."
He handed the tech to Yang, who felt and examined the pieces before trying them on. It was certainly the smallest radio he'd ever worked with but would it work as advertised? Guess they'd find out eventually. Next up were four, secure satellite phones. They were a little thick so they could house the scrambling tech needed to keep the line secure, but it wasn't any worse than current market satellite phones. Yang had worked with this model before, and had liked it. It wasn't a SATCOM, but it was good enough for high satellite traffic areas like cities.
"Your standard issue bug sweepers, nothing you haven't worked with before I'm sure." Yang nodded in reply.
"You recognize these I bet. Mithril C4I combat headsets." Yang certainly did recognize them. The last time he'd worn one was in Hong Kong during the Yangtze hostage rescue.
C4I stands for Command, Control, Communications, Computers, and Intelligence. These are the key components connecting a soldier to the men under and above him, giving him as much support as possible to process and execute his mission. Roughly the size and shape of sparring headgear, it combined a full ear communications headset, tactical computer, and an optical/audio enhancement package all in one durable, lightweight frame. It can run for forty eight hours straight, slightly less if one makes extensive use of the visual enhancements.
The visor of the headset when dropped over the eyes looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. One of the PRT members Yang had served with said it resembled Robocop's visor. The visor displayed such things as designated targets, waypoints and other useful battlefield information. It provided optical zoom, night and thermal visions.
Normally the entire headset was hooked via a cord at the base of the frame behind the head, leading to an impact resistant computer housed on a soldier's back. A forearm PDA or torso mounted controller let the soldier access the computerized aspects of the system. There were no such computers here.
There were only four such headsets, since they obviously hadn't expected Yang's assignment. Overall it wasn't as bad as Yang had been dreading, but it was missing any surveillance gear. Yang wondered why that was, but figured the kit was put together by the same clueless fucker who'd slapped this whole detail together.
"Well we'll have to come up with several frequencies and codes for those frequencies so we can switch on the fly. I don't really see us using the 4I sets unless we come under attack in the dark or something. Everyone has batons, flashlights, combat folders?" Walker nodded and patted the folding knife behind his hip. He had a collapsible baton in his room and he always carried a flashlight in a pouch on his other hip.
"Overall sir, things seem pretty good. My list is mainly surveillance stuff, some PDA's, cameras. We'll hook the cameras up to the PDA's so whoever wants to or is on duty can cycle through them and watch what's happening on his screen." Yang said, nodding and scratching his head. He realized he still hadn't taken a shower yet.
"Sir, I'm going to grab a shower real quick." Yang turned, but stayed a moment as he added, "Thank you, Sir."
Walker smirked and waved a dismissive hand in Yang's direction. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you're with us Yang, even if the higher ups aren't." This got Walker a ghost of a smile from the young operator, who left the room after those parting words.
Entering the living room, he saw Ana sitting at the counter eating a bowl of cereal. Their eyes met briefly, her spoon frozen in the space between the bowl and her lips. Neither of them moved for three heartbeats before Yang turned away and walked back to his room to get his toiletries.
On the road, after dropping Price off in the vicinity of several electronics and security stores
Yang was starting to hate this woman. She spoke only to give him directions, and brief ones at that. The car was utterly silent between the words, "Left" and "Right". But it was like things had become a contest now, neither of them willing to be the first to talk, her out of spite and him out of annoyance. As they found some open road near the city limits, Yang pushed the modified Taurus' a bit.
They were a bit heavy in the front thanks to the reinforced, enhanced V6 engine under the hood. She was a six speed manual which he was grateful for, manual was always better for offensive and defensive driving. The controls for the deployable smoke grenades were installed on the dashboard by the hazard lights and under a Garmin brand GPS.
Overall, driving the modified Taurus was like driving something utterly confused about its purpose in life. Under certain situations, it excelled in areas that it would otherwise not. She was heavy thanks to the engine and armored siding and windows, but light in the rear. She could break on a dime, but accelerating took a little longer if the weight wasn't balanced on take off. But really, he'd driven worse. He had a flashback concerning a trip to Japan, the world's largest Arm Slave, and a boosted Japanese grocery truck.
Yang stole a glance at his driving partner and sucked in a deep breath. Letting it out, he decided to give into the silence and let her win this one. But only after he'd gotten her attention.
Shifting gears, he put the car out ahead and weaved into the right lane between two cars, shifting over another lane and dropping back so he could swing between two more and onto the adjacent exit ramp. He swung her tight around the curve as they left the freeway, breaking hard as they hit the red light at the base of the ramp. He smirked as he checked on her, finding her glaring angrily at him, her features flush. Seems he'd given her a bit of a scare.
"Let's talk, Agent Gagarin." He turned on his blinker this time and drove casually along the street through tiny strip malls that turned into suburban housing. He ignored her looks until she finally responded.
"About what Corporal?" Her accent was thick enough to be a bit of a joke. He could easily imagine her in a commissar's uniform, barking at troops.
"You seem to have taken a serious dislike to me, even though we've never met. We have, never met, right?" He looked over at her.
"Correct. And I only started to dislike you after last night. Before that, I didn't trust you." She kept her eyes forward. Yang looked back at the road as well. For a full minute and a half, the two cold faced operatives didn't speak.
"It isn't just about that though, is it? You really have something against my being here. I want to know what it is and if this is going to be a problem." He tapped a finger against the driving wheel as they turned.
Once again there was an uncomfortable silence. Yang drove around the same block a few times, hoping she'd get bored of seeing the same scenery and look at him for a change when she spoke. Eventually she did, fixing him with that steely gaze. He pulled over and put her in park, turning his head and giving her his full attention.
They stared at each other for several long moments, both their features masks of defense. However, hers was an intentional guard, while his was simply there. His face wasn't going to collapse because it was real, while her façade would eventually crumble away, forcing her to speak. Yang cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth.
"You're not just upset over me being here on your turf, or because of my performance review last night. That was just the trigger for the angrier side of that distrust. It's that time of the month, isn't it?" From the way her eyes widened and the way her cheeks darkened, he had apparently guessed correctly. It was a theory he'd come up with during his shift last night. It had seemed ridiculous at first, but after extensive thought it seemed to fit more and more.
"Right. Don't worry about it, I won't tell anyone. But quit staring at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable." He turned back to the wheel and pulled away from the curve, looping back the way they'd come. She glowered at him for the next ten minutes. Yang actually wondered if she was going to pull her gun a few times from the way several of those looks had intensified. Thankfully, she kept it holstered and eventually stopped staring at him.
When the freeway opened up again, he put her through some more maneuvers, keeping an eye peeled for the authorities as he did. He couldn't do anything fancy, but he could change lanes, measure the speed of the vehicle, etc. After he'd seemingly had enough and was driving back towards Sydney, she spoke.
"What about you? Why are you always so gloomy?" She glanced out the corner of her eye at him. She noticed the way his jaw moved and the tightening of his grip on the vehicle controls. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, his eyes showing the gears turning away in that head of his. He was obviously thinking about it.
"Walker is going to find out eventually. Before this, I was on an Op. It wasn't pleasant. Can't tell you more than that." He violently shifted gears, putting his foot down on the accelerator. She didn't seem to take the hint.
"So that's why you're in the foul mood? You had a hard time on the Op?" All she got was a nod in reply.
"…I heard you were in Hong Kong. You were leading one of the rescue teams." She shifted to a different topic, sensing that she wasn't going to get anything else out of him.
"That's right. Lost a couple good friends there." He looked her way, meeting her gaze.
"I don't hate you and Intelligence if that's what you're asking. I'm disappointed nobody caught the mole before he set us up, but you and Walker weren't involved."
Veronika took a deep breath, brushing back one side of her blonde hair and tucking it behind an ear. "Look…I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. Shall we try again?" Yang gave her a brief, appraising look. She seemed sincere enough, but she was a professional spook, after all. He decided to take a chance and took his hand off the transmission for a moment, turning it upwards.
"Sure. Corporal Yang Jun-Kyu." He wore a smile, but it was empty.
"Veronika Gagarin, Mithril Intelligence." She rested her hand over his and they squeezed palms. It was the first time he'd seen the Russian smile. It was a small, wistful thing but hinted at something pleasing. Her steel grey eyes looked more like flowing mercury for the brief moment they shared, gazing at one another. She knew he was faking, but didn't take it personally. She knew the emptiness wasn't directed towards her.
And just like that it was over, their hands parted and returned to their respective owner's personal bubbles. Her face put up its guard again, but it was considerably softer around the edges of her face. Yang was starting to like this woman.
Mithril Safehouse, same time.
Vikowitz and Walker both watched Ana sprawled out on the couch with the television on from the adjacent kitchen. She was behaving very un-Ana like. Her lack of energy aside, she hadn't even bothered to change the channel past the morning news. She hadn't touched the X-box either. She did have this look though, like something was weighing heavily on her mind. The two former shooters exchanged glances before getting up and parting ways. Walker retreated to his room to make that call about Yang while Vikowitz went to go keep Ana company.
Vikowitz sat down in one of the recliners by the entertainment area and watched the news, glancing at Ana from time to time. She was off in her own head right now, something he had never seen her do before. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he left it alone for now.
In her head, Ana replayed last night's events and felt horrible about her self. She was embarrassed by her own naïve notion that she could listen to his problems and handle them. She never thought of herself as being naïve, she knew horrible things happened in the world but to hear it in such stark detail was something else entirely.
Mostly she felt awful for the thoughts she had that he was a monstrous baby killer. Sure he'd killed children, but they were doing terrible things to someone, and that made them evil right? But how could children behave like that? She could simply not wrap her mind around the concept of children doing those things. What causes people, let alone children, to do those things?
She told herself he must have had no choice, she couldn't imagine a face like his mercilessly slaying children, even ones who'd committed such atrocities. She knew there had to be something under there, a gentler side. It had been there once before, she could read it in the lines of his face. She remembered the way he had blushed when they first met. Monsters don't blush, right?
