The week trudged onward, with Ban and Akabane making do with what employment offers they had, and each doing his best not to kill the mission – in more ways than one. But as Friday drew closer, the pair discovered a snag that they hadn't banked on.
"Hey, Akabane."
Akabane went into the office, where he found Ban hunched at the desk. Ban shuffled a few papers aside and set down the pen he'd been gnawing into a stump. He swiveled around in the chair to face the other man.
"I've been working the numbers..." Ban hesitated. "I don't think we're gonna have enough to make it to Europe this year."
Akabane frowned slightly. "Even with our mission bonuses?"
"Yeah. I've tried cutting out everything I can, right down to the bare bones, but we still come up short."
"How much?"
Ban sighed and named a figure. "That's deutschemarks, mind you. Plus the transfer to francs and pounds when we hit a few other stops, and the safety cushion for a backup. I figure we need at least another two million in order to be secure."
Akabane leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. "How does your schedule look?"
"It doesn't. Yours?"
Akabane paused, thinking of the proffered mission with Varlou that Maguruma had told him of. "The same. I might get another call. I might not."
"Figures." Ban slouched in his seat, resting his arms on the sides of it. "Well, I guess that's it. We're grounded. I can't think of any other way to come up with the money." He smiled weakly at Akabane. "Sorry, Jackal."
Akabane went to him, kneeling at his feet and rubbing his thigh. "It's not your fault, Ban-kun. You worked really hard. We'll just have to postpone it for another time, that's all."
Ban caught one of his hands and nuzzled the back of its gloveless form. "Yeah, but I know how much you were looking forward to this trip. So was I."
Akabane squeezed the hand that kept his. "Don't let it bother you. I'm sure something will come up. The business is a fluid market, after all. You never know what surprises might hold in store..."
"Maybe, but I'm not holding my breath for any miracles. If we're to get one it has to show its face by a week from Friday. I have to book all our reservations in advance so we can be sure we get the placements we want. Cutoff date's that following weekend. If I don't wire them the deposit by closing then, we lose the spots," Ban explained. "And at this time of year, everybody and their mother is itching to book a hold. If we tried for a later date it'd be next to impossible to get in."
"Mmm." Akabane rose to his feet and spent a few moments massaging Ban's shoulders. "Don't give up yet, Ban-kun. I'll see what I can do. We might yet make the financial mark in time..."
Ban leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. "You're a prince, Kuroudo, but don't knock yourself out on my account. If we have to wait till next year, we just have to wait till next year to do it, that's all."
Akabane dipped his head and kissed Ban's cheek. "I don't like waiting for what I want."
Ban reached up and ruffled a lock of ebony hair. "Sure you do. You chased me and Ginji around all the time, remember?"
"That's because you were worth the wait."
"Well, there you are. Some things are worth the wait," Ban said.
Akabane smiled and nuzzled him. "Touche'. All just the same though, I would still like some instant gratification."
"So would my pants," Ban leered.
Akabane came around to face him, gently tapping a bare fingertip on the end of Ban's nose. "Later," he promised, dusk-purple eyes turning sultry for a second as tantalizing secrets danced within. "Now is the time for us to plan strategy, my dearest."
"Strategy? We've been busting our humps for weeks, trying to get money - "
Akabane took up a notepad and pen, assuming the air of a general preparing to lay out his challenge. "We must find other ways to gather the funding, if our conventional methods aren't enough. That means we must first assess our current budget and prune it of any unnecessary expenses."
He pointed the tip of the pen at the small box sticking partway up out of Ban's shirt pocket. "No cigarettes from now on. They cost money."
"Watch it, Kuroudo," Ban said, frost tinting his voice.
Akabane remained firm. "If I must be denied my pleasure, so shall you likewise abstain."
"'Scuse me?"
A reproachful look. "Fair is fair, Ban-kun. We're in this together. No?"
Ban frowned. "We are, but remember the last time I tried to quit? That didn't end so well. Trust me, we're better off taking the small losses in the long run."
"But small battles are often what lead to defeat or victory in the larger war," Akabane pointed out. "And tobacco is getting expensive nowadays. Those yen will add up faster than you think, if you conserve them. Just look at how well Wan-san's profanity profits have done ever since he set up the collection jar in his shop."
"The swear jar has nothing to do with us," Ban grumbled, slashing a hand through the air. "Paul might nick the spare change out of everybody else's pockets, but he'll give up and retire that thing in about a week or two once he realizes he has no more chance of collecting extra penalties from us than he does of me paying off the tab in full."
Akabane sighed as he put down his pen and paper. "Midou-kun, sometimes you are completely hopeless. What am I ever going to do with you?"
Ban shrugged. "Same as you've been doing for a while now? Feed me, spoil me, clean up after me, love me? I can live with that." He flashed a cocky grin.
Akabane made a face. "Take me seriously, Ban-kun, or else I won't share the treat I had planned for you tonight," he scolded.
"Treat?" Ban sat up in his chair. "Now you're speaking my language."
Pleased that he had now secured the other's full attention, Akabane gave in to a quiet smile. "Well. I was saving it for the next time we were all slated to work together so that Ginji-kun and Himiko-san could see the show too. But I guess I could let you have a sneak preview...if you'll be nice to me..."
Ban's eagerness deflated as soon as he heard the self-satisfaction creeping into the other man's voice. He knew that tone by heart, and he already had a pretty good suspicion of what Akabane was about to reveal. But he'd walked right into that one – may as well see it through to the bloody end. And bloody it would surely be. "Dare I ask?"
It was Akabane's turn to smirk. "I have new toys. Ask me. Go on. Ask me what they are."
Ban carefully avoided letting exasperation leak into his sigh. "What are these paragons of fascination compelling you to show off all of a sudden?"
Akabane's grin blossomed and he flung out both fists from behind his back, splaying a double handful of bright blue spires in front of him like a geisha courting a client. "New scalpels!"
"And this is a good thing how?" Ban demanded.
Akabane put one cluster of knives away and propped a proud fist on his hip, admiring the other display as one would a cherished trophy. "Oh, but they're not just any scalpels, Ban-kun. These are hybrids!"
"Hybrids?"
"Regular scalpels have to be based from a single source material. That's how I used to do it. But with a bit of experimentation - " Akabane fluttered the knives with a soft clicking - "now I can mix and match my bases if I want!" His eyes shone with childlike glee not unlike Ginji's, when the former had discovered a new pizza parlour. "Isn't this exciting?"
Ban regarded the new weapons with a distaste as polite as he could muster. "I don't see any logical application in creating new hardware that's just going to get dirtied up like all the others. Explain your point, and I don't mean the ones on the business ends of those," he nodded towards the scalpels.
Akabane put them all away save for one, which he cradled in his palms. "Well, you always complain about Ginji-kun getting lost. A hybrid knife can be used as a tracking unit. The metal," he said, showing Ban the top part of the blade, "is sensitized to his electrical abilities. But the rubber half of it - " he traced the handle part - "grounds the magnetism so that the scalpel doesn't fly out of control. So when Ginji-kun gets lost on a mission – and you must admit, Ban-kun, he's been doing that an awful lot lately, the poor boy – when he's gone missing, we simply set the knife to attract to his presence, and follow it just like a compass needle."
Ban didn't get it. "This is different from your usual stalking ability how? Forget it, Akabane. I've seen one of your knives, I've seen 'em all."
"Hybrid knives can do other things too," Akabane insisted, unwilling to deny his work its moment of glory in the spotlight.
"I'm sure they write Js just as messy as the rest of them do," Ban said as he spun the chair around to confront the paperwork on his desk once more.
Akabane frowned. "I can show you. Just one demonstration - "
"No knives!" Ban said without turning around.
"Fine." Akabane sniffed as he retracted his last blade. "Rain on my parade. But don't forget, I can Bloody Rain on yours when you invent an outlandish strategy."
"My strategies aren't outlandish, they're brilliant, and they're brilliant because they work. As the Get Backers have proven time and again with our invincible success rate," Ban replied as he stuffed some brochures into a drawer. "I'm serious, Kuroudo. We need a magic bullet to pull this trip off. A scalpel isn't going to cut it." He peered warily over his shoulder. "No offense."
Akabane's expression had gradually thickened like a storm cloud's. He kept silent while Ban rifled through some more notes. Then he let loose with a burst of muted irritation.
"All right. You want a magic bullet? I'll give you an entire bloody submachine artillery!"
Ban whirled at that, expecting a barrage of physical attack, but was surprised to see only a flurry of black hair and white shirt leaving the room.
XX
If ever Akabane could be said to have any faults – besides the pointedly obvious – by his own admission, self-absorption might have earned a place on the list. He would not have denied that when he was set to a task, he sank himself into it with all the single-mindedness of a knife carving its way through solid matter. To one such as him, nothing less than full devotion was to be expected when taking on important objectives. How else could one hope to achieve the pinnacle of one's dreams? Half-hearted measures had no passion in them; therefore there could be no success without the engine of true desire.
So it was that Akabane took no notice of his mate's bewilderment. Ban was right, they needed an all-out effort if they were going to make their trip to Europe. And going all-out meant that sometimes, sacrifices would have to be made for the greater good.
Not that those sacrifices didn't sting just a little too sharply...!
Akabane put on his coat and hat and left the apartment, keeping a careful watch to make sure no one else was following. He took a route calculated to minimize the number of people who might serve as potential eavesdroppers, weaving through the streets and alleys as only a fog of shadows could. Finally, when he was certain he was alone and there were no other humans within listening distance, he took out his cell phone – but only after he'd first carefully inspected his garments for hanging threads that shouldn't be there. Ban had also warned him about that one.
Nothing amiss turned up on his clothes. Sighing quietly, part with relief, from knowing that he was in the clear, and part with resignation at the thought of what he was about to do, Akabane flipped open the phone and dialed a number he knew very well.
"Hello?"
"Don't sound so happy to hear my voice, Gouzou," Akabane said, feigning a calm he didn't feel.
"Oh, it's you." Maguruma's tone relaxed. "For a second I thought it was that jackass whose name starts with a V again."
Akabane frowned, not liking the sound of that. "Has he been bothering you now? What did he want?"
"Get this. He claims gas is too expensive to use up on the drive down to the client's safehouse, so the bastard wants me to transport the Crashers' go-cart in my truck's trailer."
"Well, after you finished laughing, you did tell him where to get off on that one, I assume," Akabane said.
There was a heavy sigh coupled with what sounded like a small groan. Then Maguruma said, "I did. Then I hung up. Not two minutes after that I get a call from the client. If I don't do it, Mr. Spoilsport walks. If he walks, the whole job gets yanked."
Scalpels prickled in Akabane's free hand; he nudged them back. "The bloody nerve! Who does he think he is, dictating the terms? He's not even the second-best transporter in town!"
"Gee, you sound like you almost care about my problems," Maguruma remarked with a hint of his usual joviality.
Akabane squeezed the phone in his hand just a little tighter. "Don't tell anyone," he muttered. "Gouzou, this call's about business. The...situation...we were discussing earlier... I..." His eyes pinched shut momentarily as he took a slow, long breath, trying to muster the words he needed.
Luckily Maguruma's swift intuition spared him the indignity of having to utter them. "I'll pick you up on my way to Himiko's." A pause, and then, "Thanks, Jackal. I need this one more than you know."
"You're welcome." Briefly Akabane wondered if it would be worth the trouble. A quick glance at the photograph of Ban that he kept in his wallet assured him it was. "The things I do for you..." he murmured with more affection than irritation.
"What?"
"Never mind. Oh, and Gouzou, one other thing. Do you have the client's contact information available?"
"Yeah. Hang on..."
Maguruma relayed a phone number, which Akabane jotted down on a small notepad he'd pulled from a coat pocket. They concluded their conversation and then Akabane scrolled to a new number in his phone's listings. A voice younger than Maguruma's answered this time, and Akabane asked that the number Gouzou had given him be traced to a specific location.
"I can do it, but it'll cost you," Makubex said matter-of-factly.
Akabane held back a hiss. "How much?"
"Money is just the means to an end. Payment is more suitable when it fits the purpose, don't you think?"
Despite Ban's previous commendation patience wasn't Akabane's strongest suit when he was intent on hunting. "Don't toy with me, Makubex-kun, I'm not in the mood for games today."
"Come on, Akabane-san. It's not my fault privacy controls have tightened lately. Besides, I learned it from you. 'Nothing in life comes for free.'"
He couldn't exactly dispute that. Akabane clutched a handful of half-emerging knives and said, "Fine. What do you want?"
"Hook me up to the gold mine on your clearance. Preferably when the night watch isn't as thick, I can get past more firewalls that way."
"Are you mad?" Quickly Akabane covered the phone with his hand and looked around after that outburst, making sure he was still alone. He lifted the phone again. "You presume an awful lot, Makubex-kun," he said in a much lower voice. "Perhaps you ought to be reminded of the wisdom of falling back to one's limits before those boundaries bite you back in a rather painful place. Have you forgotten so soon what happened the last time you crossed swords with a certain brains pack?"
"Am I speaking to the right person? Doctor Jackal, telling me to be cautious and not push my limits?"
There was a muted coughing noise. Makubex sounded like he was trying to keep from laughing out loud. It was truly a shame, Akabane decided, that scalpels could not penetrate through the phone lines. "Makubex-kun - "
"I can dream, can't I? You called me," the youth pointed out.
Makubex 2, Jackal 0. Akabane clenched the knives harder. "I'll see what I can do," he growled. "Now, will you trace that number I gave you? I need to know the address as soon as possible."
Having gained what he wanted, while amusing himself at the other's expense at the same time, Makubex readily acquiesced. "Give me five minutes and I'll have it."
He hung up without another word. While he waited for the boy to call back, Akabane pondered the various imaginative yet vindictive ways he could instill a set of proper manners into Makubex. He had yet to decide, he mused, whether it was just natural teenage attitude or the introduction of Ban's unruly cockiness that was responsible for the bad influence Makubex was exhibiting these days. Ginji would never have allowed such lip to develop if he were around.
Time dragged out before Akabane's phone rang again. He opened the call with the press of a button and, snippier than he'd intended, said, "That was more than five minutes, Makubex-kun."
"Cut me a break, Akabane-san. It was an unlisted number, really buried in there. Took me longer than I thought."
"But you do have it."
"Of course I have it," Makubex said, somewhat irritably. "What's it for?"
"Business," Akabane said frostily. "As in, it's rude to ask about what's not yours."
"It is if you're going to use me as an accessory," Makubex shot back, equally as cool. "I have my priorities too, Doctor Jackal. Do you want the address or not?"
Akabane wasn't sure whether to be impressed by or infuriated by the boy's candor. Only an equal would dare challenge him so. He could respect that kind of brass, coming as it was from a virtual prisoner of Mugenjou's recesses.
He throttled back his temper and the red scalpels threatening to rise, and spoke as calmly as he could. "I wish to meet with a potential client that a rival of mine is attempting to usurp. Will that set your mind at ease?"
"You could just get rid of the rival," Makubex said, suddenly unconcerned with the possibility of being linked as an accomplice.
Reminded of the opposition that he'd be dealing with this time, Akabane almost said, "Oh, believe me, I'd like nothing more than to," but then remembered who he was speaking to. It wouldn't do to permit interference from nuisance emotions. He closed his eyes and counted silently to ten before opening them again and replying. "There are complications involved."
"Midou Ban wouldn't like it, in other words. Does he know it's Varlou the Crasher?"
Akabane nearly dropped the phone at that. Fumbling with the device, he struggled to maintain a slipping composure. "How do you know about that?" he hissed.
"Everybody who's anybody knows it. The Party Crashers have an open hotline that's probably spread all the way to the southern coastline. It wasn't hard for word to get around Mugenjou," Makubex sounded surprised by Akabane's confusion. "Frankly, I don't blame you for being pissed. I've heard about this Varlou. Some of my lieutenants dealt with him in the old days. The guy's a dick."
"Language, please," Akabane said, not so startled by Makubex's revelations as to completely forgo polite observations.
"It's true."
"But off the record - " Akabane glanced around again; he was still safely obscured in the alleyway - "I completely agree with your assessment there."
"So why don't you take care of the problem once and for all?"
That boldness did shock Akabane. "Makubex-kun!"
"Like you've never thought about it," the boy said, sounding bored now. "I'm only asking because the Crashers are natural enemies to retrievers too. Credible sources have it that Varlou isn't on any better terms with the Get Backers than you or Mr. No-Brakes are. And I know for a fact that the Crashers have been checking out a job that your nearest and dearest has had his eye on for some time..."
"The gallery show," Akabane said, before he could stop himself.
"Bingo."
He had to count to twenty this time before saying anything. This conversation was doing nothing for his blood pressure – in more ways than one. Akabane made his scalpels recede and stay there, and turned his attention back to Makubex. "If I plan this right, that problem will be remedied to all parties' satisfaction; that is why I require your assistance. But never mind that for now. What else can you tell me about - " Akabane made a face only briefly before uttering the hated name - "Varlou?"
"Now that'll cost extra," Makubex said. But he must have sensed that Akabane's patience with their verbal jousting was fast running out, for right after that he gave out the address connected to the client's phone number.
Akabane jotted the notes down, his mind working through the next steps of his unfolding plot. "Thank you." He recognized the area as one he'd visited before. It would not be hard to find.
"And our deal," Makubex prompted.
"I told you. I'll see what I can do," Akabane repeated, calmer now that he had what he wanted. "And I still want any information you have on that pest."
"Drop by in a bit and I'll not only give you the full dossier, I can tell you what color underwear he wears too."
"I don't believe I'll require that extensive a knowledge, thank you," Akabane said.
"I can do it," Makubex insisted. "You know I can."
"Less talking, more hacking. Good-bye, Makubex-kun," Akabane said, and shut the phone before the boy could get in another parting shot.
He looked once more at the notes he'd written, memorizing the address, and put the pen and pad back into his pocket. Already he was feeling better now that he could proceed with his mission. Akabane was not one to be denied.
Roughly three hours later the door to a stately office opened and a man in his late sixties entered the room. Hijiri Muboshi rubbed his portly stomach and reflected on the delights of having one's own private kitchen on site. He liked to have his meals freshly prepared during hours of business. Then he could impress his peers and make deals at the same time.
His acid reflux kicked in, however, when he saw the man in black waiting for him in a chair at the front of his desk. Rationally Muboshi knew he shouldn't be so afraid. He had tried to hire this person. But all just the same, reputation went before, and this particular one was exactly why Muboshi had wanted to enlist him. He also knew that for him to appear without being summoned meant that one was in very dire straits indeed.
Muboshi pasted a smile on and faked a pleasantness he was nowhere close to feeling. "Doctor Jackal. What a nice surprise. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
Akabane rose and bowed likewise. "I do apologize for startling you, Muboshi-san. Only your secretary told me that you would return shortly, so I chose to wait for you. I would like to speak with you about the job you offered my colleagues Mr. No-Brakes and Lady Poison."
Muboshi looked a little taken aback as he carefully sidestepped his way to his desk, as though it were the safe haven in a game of tag. "Forgive me, Akabane-san. But I was made to understand that you were not interested in accepting my offer."
"I have reconsidered. If the offer is still open, I would like to apply," Akabane answered as they both sat down across from each other.
Muboshi was pleased, and more than a little relieved. So, it was merely a matter of second thoughts, then. "It is. I'm glad that you changed your mind. I prefer only the best for my undertakings."
"On two conditions," Akabane said, injecting some steel into his words.
The other man blinked, but didn't balk – yet. "Name them."
Akabane reached into his coat, ignoring the way the client impulsively cringed, and withdrew a sheet of paper, which he passed over the desk. "If you wish to retain my services, this is the fee I will expect of you in return."
Muboshi read the figure and blanched. "You're very serious about this, I must say...!"
Akabane met his stare without remorse. "I am the best, after all."
Muboshi gnawed on his lips for several moments before capitulating. "Very well. I will pay it. And the other condition?"
Akabane again reached into his coat and took out another piece of paper, handed it to him, and waited as the client read what was written. Then he said, "I can vouch from personal experience that those agents are of the highest caliber and the strictest of professionalism. If you desire something returned safely, they are the service without peer."
"I've heard of them, I think. You want me to hire them along with you?"
"Yes. And I want you to pay them exactly what you will be paying me. Each man apiece," Akabane said.
This time Muboshi grew belligerent. "Forgive me, Akabane-san, but have you any idea what I'm paying the agents I've already contracted? Much though I wish it were otherwise, I'm not made out of money!"
Akabane let him vent some more, and then said, in the same smooth calmness as before, "Where I go, they go, and where they go, I go. If you do not hire them I will withdraw from this assignment. Moreover, I shall speak with my colleagues Mr. No-Brakes and Lady Poison." He allowed an unpleasant smile to curl upon his mouth. "You and I understand, of course, that it will not be difficult for me to convince them that it would be in their best interests to likewise withdraw."
He stood up as if to leave.
"Wait!" Muboshi deliberated some more. It would be horridly expensive, but this was an important job, one critical to his empire's expansion, and if he could pull it off successfully, he would gain enormous prestige within his circles. He supposed that it was true, one got what one paid for, and if what the transporter said could be trusted...
"I understand your terms, Doctor Jackal. Very well. I will hire these 'Get Backers,' and pay them each the same fee I'm retaining you under. Will this be satisfactory, then?"
Akabane smiled again, his first real one that day. "Indeed. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I've provided your associate Mr. No-Brakes with the details of the trip. I trust that you will speak with him on that?"
"I shall."
They exchanged more formalities and then Akabane made to leave, pausing before he turned away. He looked back to the client. "Oh, lest I forget."
Muboshi tensed visibly, expecting another expensive demand.
Akabane reached one more time into his coat pocket and produced a final piece of reading material. Only this one was comprised of more than one sheet of paper, and bound within a slender folder. This he also gave to Muboshi.
"I would appreciate it very much if you would help to circulate that amongst your guests. Please feel free to read it yourself. It contains information which I'm sure you'll find quite fascinating, especially as it pertains to one of the agents whom you've hired. I thought that you might like to know."
Mission accomplished. For now. Not bothering to watch the puzzled look flit onto Muboshi's face, Akabane bid him a pleasant day and left the office.
XX
By the time Akabane had returned home he was finished formulating the plan that had been percolating in his mind, and after stopping at a local department store to pick up some items, briefed both Maguruma and Himiko over the phone as he invited them to dinner. All three of them agreed that the time had come to bring down their hated rivals for good. Akabane felt that he had done a reasonable job of arranging things so as to both complete the job to satisfaction and ensure maximum amusement – without incurring his beloved's or his beloved's partner's ire. The chess pieces were in place. Now he was ready to wage war with complete and utter mercilessness.
Flush with that satisfaction he entered their apartment with head held high, stopping only to deposit his boots by the door and his hat and coat on the wall pegs, before marching right up to Ban and plopping yet another folder into his lap. This one was considerably thicker than the one he had given the client Muboshi.
Ban had been stretched out on the couch reading a mystery novel. He blinked, then stared as the folder was unceremoniously dumped in front of his face. He looked up at Akabane with a mild frown and raised brow, the silent demand clear.
Akabane didn't waver. "May I present to you your magic silver bullet."
Ban set his book aside and poked at the folder. "What's this? It's obviously not food."
"Dinner shall be provided shortly. It's pizza night."
Ban brightened at that. "I like the way you think." His face clouded briefly as he remembered who he was dealing with. "Sometimes," he amended.
"I asked Himiko-san and Maguruma to come over," Akabane said while he placed a bag of groceries on the counter and began to set the table. "You'll want to give Ginji-kun a call and let him know. This concerns him too."
"Feeling sociable tonight, are we? What's the occasion?"
"We're going to discuss a matter of grave importance." Akabane said, pausing while he debated whether or not to use the good wine. "In the meantime, I suggest you study the contents of that folder. Because that," he nodded at the compilation, "is going to be our next assignment." He decided that the evening warranted good drinks after all, and set out glasses.
Ban blinked again and his frown returned some. "You got us a job? Together?"
Akabane crossed his arms against his chest and came to stand before him. "It's a client that Maguruma and I have dealt with before. He's solid. Pays very well, I assure you. We – that is, Maguruma, Himiko-san and myself – are contracted to make a transport for him next Tuesday. The only problem is that a rival gang of transporters will be waiting to steal the delivery from us."
"That's not a problem." Ban snorted. "Not for you, anyway."
"Oh, but it is, you see! The Party Crashers have been a thorn in our sides for quite some time now. Somehow they always manage to ruin our jobs in one way or another – they steal the item, or create unpleasant delays for us. And forget about having any fun," Akabane sniffed. "They don't play well with others."
"Neither do you," Ban pointed out.
Akabane just gave him a look.
Ban shrugged and glanced at the folder. "Party Crashers, huh? That sounds familiar. Aren't they the guys who helped crack into a laboratory downtown a couple years ago and made off with a bunch of research documents?"
"Close. That was their ringleader, a detestable man named Varlou." Akabane felt like spitting just to rid his mouth of the sour taste he got every time he was forced to speak that name, but such would never do, so he settled for thinning his lips in displeasure. "He's the enemy we will have to defeat in order to see our Europe money. Remember the IL job we both worked? Only this time he's the Judas."
He reached down and tapped the folder he'd given Ban. "But you and I are going to see to it that he doesn't get his piece of flesh that he's expecting. We're going to stick it to him and his vultures once and for all. Emphasis on the sticking part, if I have anything to say about it," Akabane added with undisguised malice.
Ban digested this with a slow nod. "Just remember, though. No dead bodies. We agreed on that," he said, letting his voice slip just a notch into warning territory.
To his surprise Akabane gave a most ungentlemanly snicker of derision. "Corpses? Killing him is too good of a punishment for that miserable man! Oh no, Ban-kun." Purple eyes glittered. "What I have in mind is death of a more fitting nature. By the time Varlou realizes he won't be pulling one over on us he'll wish I'd granted him a J in the back."
Ban had been watching him with a mostly neutral expression. Now his face shadowed a bit as he remembered just how creatively vindictive Akabane could be if he felt slighted. "It's not like you to nurse grudges. Spill it, Jackal. What's the bad blood between you and this Varlou that'd get you so worked up over a job you normally couldn't give a fat rat's fart about?"
Akabane told him about the missing scalpel. Like Kazuki earlier, Ban wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or groan in exasperation over the transporter's true motives. But he knew that an agitated Akabane was also a sensitive Akabane, and one very likely to express his discontent with someone else's reaction in the sharpest possible terms. He made sure to keep a straight face throughout the tale.
"I thought that your weapons couldn't be taken from you by outside forces," Ban said, once Akabane was done sharing his story. "Besides Ginji's electromagnet, that is."
"Normally, they can't," Akabane said. "But Varlou did something to it that keeps me from summoning it back. Himiko-san suspects magic of a sort. Truthfully, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. The Party Crashers are a walking curse as far as I'm concerned."
"Is that why you tagged me to join you? You want me to get back your knife?" Ban said, a slight grin poking alongside his face.
"Actually, no. Your function on this assignment lies elsewhere, as you'll see when you read the itinerary in the folder. But if you should run across my scalpel during the trip I would be most grateful to you for returning it to me," Akabane said, perking up momentarily.
Ban made a noise that was part sigh and part chuckle. Only his Akabane. "I'll keep it in mind," he agreed.
"Thank you."
"Just so you know, recovery's not cheap. Especially if I have to get dirty. A hospital bill would set us back on our Europe funds by another year."
Akabane's response to that was a lifted eyebrow. "Why is it that everyone seems to be making preposterous requests of me today?" he grumbled.
"Huh?"
Akabane sighed. "Never mind. Don't worry, you'll be paid for your efforts." He nodded toward the unopened folder still in Ban's lap. "Besides the necessary mission information, it contains everything you'll need to know about the opposition, especially Varlou. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't permit him to defeat you. Not that he ever could," he added, with another glance to the packet. "Know thy enemy."
"All the better to poke holes in thy enemy with thy surgical quills," Ban said wryly. "You don't have to get all Sun Tzu on me."
"Don't I?"
Akabane stooped over him and put his hands on Ban's thighs, fixing him in the eye as his voice turned a steely quiet. "I want to go to Europe. I want to see Germany with you. I want to visit ancient battlegrounds and look at ageless works of art. I want to take too many pictures and buy too many postcards and eat foreign delicacies and enjoy myself to the fullest with you, and do everything that tourists do. We have worked too long and hard for this to let it slip away from our grasp so easily. Ban-kun, if Varlou louses this up, so help me holy Christ Jesus Almighty I'll forgo scalpels and just rip him to pieces with my bare fingers!"
Ban stared at him for a long time after the last ferocious hiss had petered out. "You're serious about this one."
"However did you guess?" Akabane said coolly as he rose.
"You almost dropped an f-bomb in there. I could tell. From your voice." Ban held up his fingers in a pinching motion. "You were this close to firing it off. This Varlou must really be something if he gets you that riled!" He looked downright impressed.
Akabane's nose lifted a little. "Nonsense. The only thing he is, to use your phrasing, is a royal pain in the posterior."
"Come on, if you're going to swear, at least do it right." Ban turned his attention to the folder and began leafing through it. He needed only a minute to scan the mission's specifics and get the basic overview; he would go over it closer after he'd read the opposition's backgrounds. He looked up at Akabane in surprise after noticing one line of print in particular. "You're retaining me and Ginji?"
"But of course. You are the Get Backers, after all," Akabane said. "The 'S' means that you do not work alone, hmm?"
"Not bad, Jackal," Ban mused. Having Ginji on hand would not only be useful to him, it would also serve as a deterrent to any unsanctioned bloodletting. He continued reading the compiled information on the Party Crashers. "Shah-tzi Feng – I recognize that one. That clown pal of Ginji's with the whip told us a story once about a rumor he'd heard of her having to go into exile after botching a job for one of the Chinese triads. Looks like it wasn't just a rumor," he said, his eyes running along a block of text. "Where'd you get all this stuff, anyway?"
"From Makubex-kun," Akabane replied in a complacent tone as he headed into the kitchen.
Ban shook his head as he went back to reading. "Kid's gonna get his balls busted one of these days, nosing into the wrong portfolio..." He froze as he turned the page leading into the ringleader's history and confronted an eight-by-ten photograph leering up at him. "Holy shit."
Akabane came back into the room, alerted not by the profanity itself but the emotion behind it. "What's wrong?"
Ban ripped the picture out of its lineup and held it up. "This is the infamous Varlou? The one you're lusting so badly to scribble Js on?"
"The very same," Akabane said. His eyes widened suddenly and he couldn't keep the disbelief from leeching through his voice. "You know him?"
"Oh, this is precious!" Ban laughed with ripened bitterness. "I know him, all right. Except he was working under a different name when I met him. Called himself 'Yami Doko.' Pretentious ass could give obnoxious lessons to the monkey trainer!"
"Not terribly surprising," Akabane said. "He's known for changing aliases frequently. He has to, seeing as how anyone and everyone he's ever aggravated would like his head on a pike. Among other body parts."
"More like backstabber than kite in the darkness, if you ask me," Ban said darkly. "That cowardly puke-stain stiffed us Get Backers out of eighty thousand yen on a past job!" He slammed the offending picture onto the coffee table and stood up, sending the rest of the folder flopping onto the floor, papers scattering. "I can't believe this. You waltz in here and drop the perfect storm right into my lap. You're telling me I can get both vacation money and my payback in one shot?"
"That is the plan - " Akabane started to say, before he found himself swept up in serpentine coils and flung around the room in circles. "Midou-kun!"
"Goddamn, Akabane, you're a bloody genius!" Ban laughed, this time with a relish bordering on dementia. "I can already taste the schadenfreude!"
"Well, I do try," Akabane said modestly, squirming awkwardly in Ban's clutches while doing his best to smooth his mussed hair back into a semblance of order.
Ban finally calmed down and let go of Akabane. He rubbed his hands together, smacking his lips. "This is gonna be good. We're gonna have fun with this." He snapped his fingers. "When's our dinner coming, liebe? Perfidy requires a full stomach to be executed at its finest."
"I couldn't agree more," Akabane said, devilish delight suffusing his face. "Especially with execution."
Ban pointed at him. "Down, Jackal. I'm gonna grab Ginji. You finish setting up there." He pumped a fist in the air and danced off toward the door. "The Get Backers will have their glory!"
"Don't forget us transporters, too," Akabane called out after him.
He watched his lover head out of the apartment with a bemused smile, feeling an odd but pleasant swell in his chest that was akin to pride. As he knelt and pulled together the scattered papers detailing their adversaries' misdeeds, Akabane pondered this strange sense of excitement and purpose that now propelled him into destiny's crossroads. His hand landed on the picture of Enemy Number One, and he studied Varlou's white-blond smugness for several minutes.
Ban was right. They would have fun. A lot of it.
Akabane smiled.
I'm so good I even amaze myself sometimes.
XX
TBC
