I still don't own anything.

Keitaro's Big Adventure

Chapter Ten:

"Any they were found wash up on the beach?" Ramba Ru asked as he followed one of his family's advisors through the hospital. The older Englishman quickly nodded.

"Yes Your Highness."

"I don't exactly see how this concerns the royal family of Mol Mol," Ramba said, "unless they were found carrying contraband, were they?"

"No Your Highness," the advisor said. "It's just an interesting coincidence."

"What is?" Ramba asked.

"Two days ago the Ocean Queen's two saviors were knocked overboard sir," the advisor said. "The ship was well within our territorial waters and the tides make it possible that these two are them."

"Who are they?" Ramba demanded.

"One is former Sergeant Major Gregory Tyler," the advisor said. "A sniper in the American Army and a veteran of more foreign conflicts then the government can admit to. A sniper as prolific as he is hasn't been seen since World War II. If even half of the operations he has carried out were admitted to then he would hold records for number of casualties, distance from rifle to target, and probably have every ribbon and medal available."

"And the other?"

"Keitaro Urashima is a former multi-year ronin and first year student at Tokyo University," the advisor said. "That's a pretty damn respectable accomplishment in its own right."

"Urashima," Ramba repeated. "I know that name from somewhere."

"He is the land lord of the dormitory that your younger sister is staying in," the advisor said. "A post he has been suspiciously absent from for almost seven months."

"What the hell are an American sniper and Japanese student doing together?" Ramba wondered.

"Beats the hell out of me," the advisor said. "I get the feeling that they're going to have one hell of a story."

(:ii:)

Keitaro stared at the ceiling. "Well hell is definitely anti-climactic."

"I prefer the term peaceful." Keitaro turned and stared at the man sitting beside his bed. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Great," Keitaro grunted as he sat up. "Satan is a damn mini me."

"There is an uncanny resemblance," the man standing behind Keitaro's clone said.

"So where's the other guy?" Keitaro asked.

"He's safe," the man said. "I can assure you that you both are very much alive."

"Oh," Keitaro said. He scratched his chin and frowned. He never did liked beards. "So if I'm not in hell, then where am I?"

"You're in Mol Mol," the man said.

"That psycho gaijin's homeland?" Keitaro asked. "Somebody just drop kick me in the head already." He flopped onto his back and covered his eyes with his hand.

"I assume you mean my sister." Keitaro glanced at the man between his fingers. "I must agree, her greetings can be a little. . ."

"I will kick your ass if you say energetic," Keitaro growled.

"Now see here!" the other man sputtered.

"Relax," Keitaro's clone said. "Both of you. I was actually going to say painful."

"Good man," Keitaro said as he sat up again. "So where's Greg?"

"In the next hospital room," the clone said. A loud scream echoed through the hospital and Keitaro climbed to his feet.

"Good!" he said cheerfully. "Greg's awake."

"You can tell its him by a scream?" the clone asked.

"We've been hanging out for a while," Keitaro said. "Plus memory becomes better with repetition!"

"Uh," the clone said intelligently. "That would explain how you got into Tokyo University." Keitaro blanched slightly and felt his fingers begin to twitch.

(:ii:)

Greg leaned back against the wall and stared at the man sitting across from him. Sprawled was probably a better choice of words. The door opened and Greg looked up to see his partner in crime step into the room. "Yo."

"Yeah," Keitaro grunted. "What happened?"

"I opened my eyes and this guy was looming over me with something in his hand," Greg explained. "Draw your own conclusions from there."

"Oh."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Mol Mol," Keitaro said. He stepped into the room and two men followed after him.

"Who's the wannabe?"

"Him?" Keitaro asked, jerking his thumb at his look a like. Only they didn't look that much alike. The other guy looked like Keitaro had when they first met. "He's. . .I never asked."

"Oh," Greg said. "Who the hell are you?"

"He is Crowned Prince Ramba Ru!" the other guy exclaimed. "The heir to the throne of Mol Mol!" Greg scratched his chin.

"Easy Slim," Greg said. He turned to Keitaro. "That's the island we were heading too, right?" he asked in English.

"That's the one," Keitaro said.

"English is my first language," the other guy said.

"Isn't that nice," Greg said. "You still remember the spot?"

"Of course," Keitaro said. "We're going to need our weapons."

"Hey Slim," Greg snapped. "Were we found with any weapons?"

"No," the man said.

"Shit," Keitaro growled. "We need guns. Lots of guns."

"Bombs would be nice," Greg added.

"What's going on here?" Ramba asked in English.

"Should we tell him?" Keitaro asked.

"The man's royalty," Greg answered.

"So we should tell him because he's royalty?" Keitaro asked.

"We should tell him because a sponsor couldn't hurt," Greg corrected. Keitaro picked at his fingernail and shrugged.

"Okay," he allowed. "Just give me a second." Greg watched as the young man walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands.

"Shit."

(:ii:)

"I'm worried," Ramba said.

"Well that's understandable," Yu Fon said calmly. "After all, I wouldn't trust those two to take care of my car let alone the world."

"Should we support them?" Ramba asked.

"The question is more, can we afford not to?" Yu asked. "Believe it or not, these two are highly qualified. One is probably the most experience soldier in the world and the other has a surprisingly good knowledge of ancient people in this area."

"So we should support them," Ramba said.

"Yes sir," Yu said. "There's also the problem with the fact that these mobsters may very well know who Urashima is."

"You mean my sister may be in danger," Ramba said.

"Yes sir," Yu said. "I suggested dispatching the SFOG to aide Urashima and Tyler and then they can go to Japan to retrieve the princess."

"What about during the time until then?" Ramba asked.

"The women she is living with will be able to protect her until then," Yu said. "It shouldn't take very long for those two and the SFOGs to recover whatever the hell they need."

"Do you really believe that an ancient people could actually construct a weapon of mass destruction?" Ramba asked.

"Well someone certainly does," Yu said, "and they aren't afraid to kill to get their hands on it."

"You're right," Ramba said. He chuckled lightly and glanced at the ceiling. "My sister used to tell me about how wonderful and kind Urashima was."

"He has certainly changed sir," Yu said.

(:ii:)

Keitaro watched as Greg ran the clippers over his head. "Have you always done your own hair?"

"Almost," Greg said, the clippers removing the long hair that had come with seven months without a hair cut. "Before I did it my father did it. He learned it in the Marines. Done." He set the clippers down and scratched the top of his head. "Much better." His hair was cut in a very short military style. The thick beard he had been growing was gone as well. Once again he looked incredible young. "You should cut your hair."

"Maybe," Keitaro said, running his gloved fingers through his shoulder length locks. "I hate people waving sharp things around my head though."

"No problem!" Greg said, brandishing the electric clippers.

"Oh no," Keitaro said. "You are not doing my hair!"

"Why not?" Greg asked. "It's not like I can take an ear off with these things."

"Fine." Keitaro saw Greg frown slightly. "What?"

"You seem a little off," Greg commented. "Was that your first near death experience?" Keitaro frowned as he remember being hit with swords, solid rock carvings, and soaring into the sky and into the ground. . .over and over and over.

"No."

"Okay."

(:ii:)

Yu pushed the door open and stepped into the room. "Urashima! Tyler!"

"Who the hell are you?" one of the men asked. Yu fought back his urge to stare.

"Tyler?"

"What?" the man asked as he ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw. "Never seen a man get a shave and a haircut?"

"Right," Yu said. "I'm Captain Yu Fonda of the Mol Mol Army Special Field Operations Group. Prince Ru has ordered us to accompany you on your journey to where ever the hell you're going."

"Oh. . .yea," Greg said. "Now can I get a weapon? I don't like being unarmed."

"I'll see if I can get you a pistol," Yu said. "Nothing more. Frankly, I don't trust either of you."

"That's fine," Greg said. "Trust needs to be earned. You've got the location?"

"It's all up here," the other man said, tapping the side of his skull. Yu stared at him. The hospital gown and hippy hair were gone. The man remaining looked like one hell of a good soldier. "Don't worry about a thing."

(:ii:)

Greg leaned back in his seat and stared at the sky as the jeep bounced along the dirt path. He had always loved convertibles. "It should be around here somewhere," Keitaro said from the front passenger seat.

"So how long have you been working for these guys?" Greg asked the man sitting next to him. The gunner for the fifty-cal mounted on the jeep's role bar stared at him for a moment and then began to jabber on in a language Greg had never heard. "Whoa! I have no clue what the hell you just said."

"He says that he has no clue what the hell you just said," Yu said from the driver's seat.

"Oh," Greg said. "You and me both."

"Stop here," Keitaro said. The jeep braked to a halt and the gunner immediately stood and grabbed the spade grip of his machinegun. Greg vaulted over the side of the jeep and watched as the old deuce and a halves grinded to a halt.

"You have anything around here that isn't World War II surplus?" Greg asked.

"These," Yu said as he patted his assault rifle. "Besides, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"Amen," Greg said. "I'm starting to like this country."

"We're looking for any kind of passage leading underground," Keitaro cut in. "Have your men spread out an start looking. It we blast our way down then we might end up damaging something."

"Alright then," Yu said. He turned and began snapping orders like any good officer. Greg watched as the soldiers in the vans began pouring out and spreading out like a well trained military unit. The men spread out in a circle and disappeared into the jungle. Greg reached down and let his fingers rest on the grip of his new .45. This was beginning to get fun. Suddenly one of the soldiers burst from the foliage. "He says he found a cave."

"Excellent," Greg said happily as he started off in the direction that the soldier had come form.

(:ii:)

Greg glared. "That's not a cave."

"Well it's a hole in the ground," Yu said. Greg felt his eyebrow twitch.

"You couldn't even fit one of your men through there in that kit!" Greg snapped, pointing to the combat ready soldiers.

"Well they're going to have to take it off," Yu answered. "Simple problem simple answer."

"Yeah right," Greg said as he peeled off his BDU blouse and his belt. He drew his pistol and stared at the hole. "Who's got a light?"

"Here," one of the soldiers said, holding out a flash light.

"Thanks."

"It's alright." Greg sighed and rubbed his nose. "Give me five minutes and then follow."

End

(:ii:)

Author's notes. Sorry, sorry, sorry! As some of you may know I have the attention span of a gnat. Gnat. I like that word. It's funny.

I was planning on doing a full rewrite of the story, but I decided not to make you wait that long.