Disclaimer : Don't own 'em, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind have a little
Vin Diesel of my own someday. . .
Dedication : This story is dedicated to Nicholas
Author's Note : This is my first Triple X fanfic, but I have written for other subjects. I loved the movie (of course, I don't think anybody reading this didn't. . . lol ) I know that this subject has probably been done to death, but I'd like to have a shot at it. I hope that everybody likes this and I would definitely enjoy some reviews (good or bad) with some constructive criticisms because I know there's plenty of stuff I could improve upon. I'm trying to keep the grammar as well done as possible but I'm a far cry from perfection in that area, so I'll apologize ahead of time. Anyway, you don't want to listen to me, so I'll shut up and let you read. ;)
Synopsis : The one and only Xander Cage is assigned a new partner. Only problem is, she's green as hell and determined to prove that she can tough it out with the big dogs. And it looks like she's about to wash out, but when something major goes wrong, it's up to her to finish the job. . . and save her new partner.
TITLE : Y451
BY : FLAMEIMMORTAL
PROLOGUE-CHAPTER TWO
PROLOGUE
The morning air was crisp and cool as Xander Cage made his way slowly toward the large, white marble stone steps leading toward the entrance to the current NSA HQ. He blew air through his lips absently, watching it crystallize instantly before him in a hazy gray cloud before shrugging deeper into his worn leather jacket and heading for the door.
Greeted only by the ever-somber gaze of the black-suit clad agents that served more as guards than anything else. With a short nod of acknowledgement in their direction, he proceeded into the building, already bustling with activity even though the time was still so early. He almost cringed at the thought of movement at this point in the day, but when Gibbons called. Gibbons called. Incessantly. If there was anything he could say about that man, he never gave the fuck up.
Stifling a yawn and rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, he pushed open the plain oak-wooden door, not bothering to knock.
"It's early, Gibbons. The fuck do you want?" he questioned immediately upon gaining entry, not waiting for greeting or an affirmative. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"Close the door, X," Gibbons instructed, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.
Xander kicked the door closed with the back of his heel and looked up expectantly for a reply.
"You're not going to like this," Gibbons continued without premise. "But you *are* going to deal with it."
"I don't like the sound of that, Scarface," Xander replied, glaring at the man sitting so stoically in the leather seated office chair. He damned the man his composure this early in the damn morning. Another point to Gibbons, but he'd never tell him that.
"I knew you wouldn't," Gibbons answered, leaning forward slightly and reaching into a filing cabinet built into the side of the paper strewn desk. He withdrew a single yellow file folder, thin and fresh, and tossed it onto the edge of the test, sliding an inch or so to stop just short of falling over the edge.
"Hell is that?"
"Open it up and find out," Gibbons said, reclining back in the chair with his hands folded in his lap. "That's your new assignment."
Hesitating only a moment, Xander retrieved the folder and flipped it out with a finger, leafing through the few papers inside. On the top lay a color photo, recently taken according to the date stamped in red photographers ink on the bottom white edge. The photograph showed a young woman, relatively attractive, auburn hair mixed with brown and black, cut off short below her ear. She had an intelligent countenance, not brainy, but not dumb either. She had emerald eyes, or at least from what he could tell through the red-eye in the picture.
Paperclipped to the picture was brief job history, as well as family names, current and past residences, all the 'need to know' information that the NSA so promptly boasted.
"Who is she?" Xander asked pointedly, the folder closed and held in one hand.
"Her name is Ariana Lorraine Versailles, if you'd read it at the top of the page," Gibbons answered matter of factly. "And," he added when Xander didn't speak. "She's your new partner."
CHAPTER ONE
"I work alone, Gibbons," Xander insisted, leaning forward with his hands pressed on the flat surface of Gibbon's desk. "That's it, just me. Solo. Numero Uno. You got that?"
"Oh, I get it just fine, X. But today you work with Agent Versailles."
"I don't believe this. First you drag me out of the goddamn bed at three o'clock in the fucking morning and now you're telling me I can't work solo anymore? What is this, Gibbons?" Xander fumed, half restraining himself from kicking the desk in frustration.
Gibbons quietly let him finish ranting before continuing, calm as ever. "Frankly, Triple X, I don't care. As hard as that must be for you to understand."
"Oh yeah, I know," Xander muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets forcefully. "She's green, Gibbons. I'm not a baby-sitter. And I'm not some James Bond 'Agent Maker,' okay?"
"She's already had the best training the government can give her, Xander. She graduated at the top of her class. She scored the highest in every field simulation that we have. She's the best in training, X."
"Training is a lot different than the field, Gibbons. And you don't need me to tell you that!" Xander half shouted at him, throwing the damned folder back on the desk and staring at it like it was some vile creature sprouting right there in the midst of a stack of paperwork. "Why the hell did you pick me for this? Is this some punishment? Did I screw up an assignment and you're getting back at me, what?"
"No discussion, Triple X. She's part of your job now. Maybe you'll like her. I seem to recall you being a big fan of ladies, right X?"
"Oh, fu-"
"Mr. Gibbons?"
Xander whirled around at the sound of the new voice. The newcomer raised his hands in submission and Xander moved out of the way, letting him talk to Gibbons.
"Uh, Sir, Ms. Versailles is waiting in the lobby. . ." the man said hesitantly, looking at Xander with some reluctance.
"Very good, Mr. Sandford, we'll be out to meet her in just a moment," Gibbons returned with a smile.
Apparently as satisfied as he was going to get, Sandford retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.
"I'm not doing this, Gibbons."
"You don't have a choice, Xander," Gibbons said simply, standing up and leisurely making his way around the desk and toward the door. "After you, X."
Xander glared at the older man, opening the door and slamming it behind the both of them, the frame rattling.
"If that's broken, it's coming out of your paycheck," Gibbons said under his breath, resulting in another glare from Xander. "Ms. Versailles?" he called.
A woman standing near the door turned her head, capped with a denim baseball hat. Xander appraised the woman quickly as she walked toward them, a slight sway to her hips. She wore a pair black, loose fitting khaki pants and forest green knit sweater over a black cotton turtleneck. She definitely had some curves to her, he noticed first off. But she hid too much of them, he mused silently.
She looked up at them, emerald eyes just like he'd thought from the photo. Grinning from ear to ear, she practically bounced toward the two.
"Way too eager," Xander muttered shortly, frowning. "Too damn early in the morning. . ."
"Welcome to the real NSA," Gibbons said, shaking her extended hand and nodding toward Xander. "This is Xander Cage, your new partner."
"It's great to meet you, Mr. Gibbons," Ariana said, a slight shaking entering her voice. With what seemed like a practiced effort, she took a deep breath to steady it. "I'm Ariana, most people just call me Ari though," she said, offering a hand to Xander, who just looked at her. "Well, uh, okay. . ." Ari said slowly, biting her lip but pressing on anyway. "Well, it's great to meet you, anyway. I mean, you're *the* Xander Cage. I can hardly believe they partnered me with you. It really is an honor. You're. . . something of a legend among the trainees."
"Yeah, ditto," Xander replied, hands stuffed into his pockets.
Ari looked at him with wide eyes, maybe a little surprised and disappointed at the same time.
No one said anything for several long moments, and Gibbons finally broke the awkward silence. "Go the briefing room and get acquainted. I'll be there in a few minutes with the rest of your mission."
* * *
Sitting in the briefing room, Ari watched Xander intently from across the large round table, her fingers tapping the metal tabletop lightly. They'd been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes and he hadn't said so much as three words to her the since she'd first walked in the door.
"Um. . ." she said lamely, just desperate for a little sound in the silence. "Gibbons said we should get acquainted so." Ari let the words hang, eyebrows raised in hopes he'd fill something in. "Guess you're not a morning person."
"Something like that," he answered, not bothering to look in her direction.
Anger suddenly swelled up inside her and she stamped her foot on the ground. He glanced at her, eyes narrowed in marginal surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back sullenly in the chair. This wasn't exactly what she'd pictured of her first day on the job. Nor was this how she'd imagined the infamous Xander Cage. Her excitement had dwindled to almost nothing and she stood up, pacing the room for lack of anything else to do.
After a span of about three minutes, he leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles, eyes following her even movements. "Would you *please* stop that?" he snapped.
"So he does speak!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "I was beginning to think you were mute! What the hell is your problem? This goes way beyond 'not being a morning person'!"
He stared at her, a little surprised by her sudden outburst. A little impressed, actually.
"What? What's wrong with me? Is it because I'm a woman, because I've got new for you, women have done far more than men could ever dream of in this-"
"It's not because you're a woman, okay? I'm not that sexist," Xander replied, resting his elbows on the table.
"Then what, huh?"
"Number one: I don't work with partners. Number two: you're green," he explained as if it were as simply as day and night.
"I'm not green!" she shouted, taking a threatening step toward him and suddenly thinking better of it, but not backing down. "I finished in the top of my class! I got the highest awards in all of the field exercises. . ."
"But you don't know shit about what's really out there."
That one stopped her dead in her tracks. She stared at him like he'd slapped her for about three seconds before balling her hands into fists at her sides indignantly. "I can't believe you. I can't fucking believe you! You of all people won't give the new guy a chance! Ha!"
"I read your file, too, Agent Cage!" Ari ranted. "Your first mission they picked you out of a bunch of drunken idiots!"
"They picked me because I had whatever the hell they were looking for. I got the job done."
"And what makes you think I can't?" Ari hissed, staring him down as best she could. She was going to show him what she was made of one way or another.
"Look, I'm not saying you won't be good at this. . . after some real field work. But I don't have the time to look after you, do you understand? I didn't ask for this job, I didn't ask for any of this, but here I am and here you are. I've got a job to do, and I'll do it. I can't have people in the way of that."
"Bullshit."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Ari muttered, turning her back on him. "I don't care what you think, I can do this job. It's what I've been trained to do. I didn't choose you either, but like it or not, we're stuck together so I guess we'd better get used to it."
He sighed, rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Too fucking early in the morning for this shit. . . "
CHAPTER TWO
"This," Gibbons said, dropping two thick white filing folders onto the round metal table and looking hard at each of them, "Is your mission."
"Should we choose to accept it. . . " Xander muttered under his breath, quoting the old television show absently. Ariana glanced in his direction quickly as he flipped the folder open, following suit soon after.
Gibbons stood at the end of the square room, Xander and Ari seated beside each other across the table from three other suited agents, the other three already well prepared and waiting the rest of the mission briefing.
Ari shifted in her seat uncomfortably, still not yet used to the mix of formality with. . . her unorthodox partner. She could already tell that this wouldn't be a usual mission by any standards if only because of his sporadic actions.
Gibbons nodded to one of the agents, the one in the center of the three, who immediately took up the silence left by his superior.
"Frankly, we're looking for a mole," the agent said simply, waving on hand toward the folder for emphasis.
Xander looked up, reading the nametag dangling precariously from a metal clip on his shirt-sleeve. The name read in bold, Arial print 'Phillipe J. Hernandez.' Xander lifted the first set of papers in the folder, revealing several apparently candid photographs of at least ten men, each with a matching profile containing whatever information they had chosen to provide for them. He thumbed through the pictures, paying close attention to the names and instantly committing the faces to memory.
"The first one," Hernandez was saying, "Is Jonathan Carletti. He used to be a heavy hitter for the mob, now he works for our big dog out here."
"Where is this?" Ari questioned, sitting forward in her seat and flipping through the photos herself.
"Actually, it's underground, but," one of the other agents supplied.
"But I'll get to that in just a moment," Hernandez continued without further notice. "He's basically a body guard, but a formidable enemy-at least I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley, and I was in the marines for the better part of my career. One bad-ass son of a bitch, but as long as you dodge security, and that shouldn't be too much of a problem, then you won't have to deal with him on a regular basis."
"The next photo is of one Coleman Schaffer."
Xander flipped to the next picture in line, taken in what looked like a warehouse of some sort, boxes and crates lying all over the place in the background. Schaffer had a thick head of dusty blonde hair and near black eyes. The man was tall, muscled, but not to the point of looking all that threatening.
"He's our 'big dog,' if you excuse the phrase," Hernandez informed the group, standing up and walking as he spoke. "Schaffer is basically a drug runner as far as the public knows. And most of the public has heard of him. His dealings are no secret, not even to the police, but there isn't anything on him. However, we're not looking at him because of drug trafficking. The NSA could care less about cocaine and heroin from guys like these. Coleman has recently discovered something new that are interested in." Hernandez shot a look over his shoulder at the agent that had been sitting to his left-Marcus Collins by the name tag-and the agent pushed a button on a small handheld remote. After a few seconds, a light projector in the corner reacted, spraying a lighted square over the wall before them.
As Hernandez continued talking, all eyes flicked toward the screen as a large picture showed a single glass tube lying on its side on what appeared to be a laboratory counter. The glass was a scientist's test tube, corked off at the top and filled within an inch of the rim with a thick liquid, colored a deep blue.
"They're calling it Y451," Hernandez explained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, absently fingering his thin mustache with one hand. "It's new and experimental."
"All our favorite characteristics. . . aren't they all?" Xander quipped, watching as the next slide clicked into place.
With a grunt, Hernandez gave a short laugh. "Sure," he said nonchalantly. "We're still not sure exactly how Y451 is being produced, but we do know that it is to be a key factor in the assassination of this woman."
The newest slide showed a close-up glamour shot of a woman in her mid- thirties with a thin face and high cheekbones. The woman had black hair cut short above her shoulders, tucked neatly behind her ears. In the picture she had on clearly too much makeup, and definitely not her color lipstick, looking more like an older woman trying to regain her youth than a natural picture.
"This is Ileitha MacPherson. She used to be one of Schaffer's best men, or, women, that is. She was his top priority in just about every aspect of the word. But he wouldn't let her in on the Y451 project because Schaffer is apparently tight-lipped about everything coming and going so long as it has anything to do with 'business.' She left him and he's out to get her because she's the only other person who had access to any of his accounts and who knows how he works.
"She's been under NSA supervision for about three weeks now. The government has given her immunity so long as she stays cooperative. She's really our only true vital link to the inside of his organization."
"What about all these other people?" Ari asked, holding up one of the photos. "They're listed as agents, why do you suspect them?"
"We've lost three agents in the last week and a half," Collins answered. Ari turned her head to look at him, waiting for further explanation. "And some inside information has spread to Schaffer, we know it. But there are still four more agents in place down there and way things are going down. . . We're fairly certain that this is an inside job."
"What about this drug?" Xander questioned, speaking for the first time in a while. "What else is he planning on doing with it?"
"At first we thought he intended to sell it on the streets," Hernandez replied. "But Schaffer has sold out to the rest of the company. Schaffer is small time compared to most of the other drug organizations in the United States. We think he's going to sell the drug out the highest bidder. Most of these people have nation-wide access. They'll be spreading it throughout both the United States and Europe."
"What's it do?" Ari inquired.
Collins clicked the remote again, changing the slides to show a small collage of pictures. "These are the stages of the drug," he explained. "It starts out with mild delirium, the progressed onto the higher levels of the 'high.' That's only on a minimum dosage, though. Higher amounts can result in a heart rate increased to extremely dangerous levels in a matter of seconds, and high fevers can accompany a strong sense of delirium. Those under the influence of Y451 couldn't tell you their own name after about thirty seconds of shooting up. An overdose can kill in about three minutes. But even the first dose is a slow poison. It's not like shooting up once in a while, get the high and move one. You don't even have to get addicted to it. Y451 doesn't leave the bloodstream. Ever. Unless specifically used with an 'antidote' of sorts, it slowly poisons the blood and causes a very painful death."
"Sounds like fun," Xander commented sarcastically.
"How. . . were the other agents killed?" Ari asked tentatively, glancing up at the photographs with a look of disgust crossing her fair features.
Gibbons took the remote from Collins and clicked to the next slide, showing several dead bodies, all grotesquely disfigured and still oozing blood, the flesh burnt and charred, sliced open until not a single shred remained recognizable. "That's after being injected with Y451," Gibbons said solemnly, meeting first her eyes and then Xander's intent gaze. "Now it's your job to replace them."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
4/15/03
Author's Note : Well, what did you think? That's the first three chapters and I've already started working on the next set. I'll post them up soon if anybody likes this story. . . Hopefully it doesn't suck too much. I know there hasn't been much action yet, but I've got one hell of a plan for later on in this one;) And there'll be plenty of action. Unfortunately, I tend to get a little violent in my action sequences, so. . . Fair warning. lol
Don't forget, Read & Review!
Thanks,
-FlameImmortal-
Dedication : This story is dedicated to Nicholas
Author's Note : This is my first Triple X fanfic, but I have written for other subjects. I loved the movie (of course, I don't think anybody reading this didn't. . . lol ) I know that this subject has probably been done to death, but I'd like to have a shot at it. I hope that everybody likes this and I would definitely enjoy some reviews (good or bad) with some constructive criticisms because I know there's plenty of stuff I could improve upon. I'm trying to keep the grammar as well done as possible but I'm a far cry from perfection in that area, so I'll apologize ahead of time. Anyway, you don't want to listen to me, so I'll shut up and let you read. ;)
Synopsis : The one and only Xander Cage is assigned a new partner. Only problem is, she's green as hell and determined to prove that she can tough it out with the big dogs. And it looks like she's about to wash out, but when something major goes wrong, it's up to her to finish the job. . . and save her new partner.
TITLE : Y451
BY : FLAMEIMMORTAL
PROLOGUE-CHAPTER TWO
PROLOGUE
The morning air was crisp and cool as Xander Cage made his way slowly toward the large, white marble stone steps leading toward the entrance to the current NSA HQ. He blew air through his lips absently, watching it crystallize instantly before him in a hazy gray cloud before shrugging deeper into his worn leather jacket and heading for the door.
Greeted only by the ever-somber gaze of the black-suit clad agents that served more as guards than anything else. With a short nod of acknowledgement in their direction, he proceeded into the building, already bustling with activity even though the time was still so early. He almost cringed at the thought of movement at this point in the day, but when Gibbons called. Gibbons called. Incessantly. If there was anything he could say about that man, he never gave the fuck up.
Stifling a yawn and rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, he pushed open the plain oak-wooden door, not bothering to knock.
"It's early, Gibbons. The fuck do you want?" he questioned immediately upon gaining entry, not waiting for greeting or an affirmative. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"Close the door, X," Gibbons instructed, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.
Xander kicked the door closed with the back of his heel and looked up expectantly for a reply.
"You're not going to like this," Gibbons continued without premise. "But you *are* going to deal with it."
"I don't like the sound of that, Scarface," Xander replied, glaring at the man sitting so stoically in the leather seated office chair. He damned the man his composure this early in the damn morning. Another point to Gibbons, but he'd never tell him that.
"I knew you wouldn't," Gibbons answered, leaning forward slightly and reaching into a filing cabinet built into the side of the paper strewn desk. He withdrew a single yellow file folder, thin and fresh, and tossed it onto the edge of the test, sliding an inch or so to stop just short of falling over the edge.
"Hell is that?"
"Open it up and find out," Gibbons said, reclining back in the chair with his hands folded in his lap. "That's your new assignment."
Hesitating only a moment, Xander retrieved the folder and flipped it out with a finger, leafing through the few papers inside. On the top lay a color photo, recently taken according to the date stamped in red photographers ink on the bottom white edge. The photograph showed a young woman, relatively attractive, auburn hair mixed with brown and black, cut off short below her ear. She had an intelligent countenance, not brainy, but not dumb either. She had emerald eyes, or at least from what he could tell through the red-eye in the picture.
Paperclipped to the picture was brief job history, as well as family names, current and past residences, all the 'need to know' information that the NSA so promptly boasted.
"Who is she?" Xander asked pointedly, the folder closed and held in one hand.
"Her name is Ariana Lorraine Versailles, if you'd read it at the top of the page," Gibbons answered matter of factly. "And," he added when Xander didn't speak. "She's your new partner."
CHAPTER ONE
"I work alone, Gibbons," Xander insisted, leaning forward with his hands pressed on the flat surface of Gibbon's desk. "That's it, just me. Solo. Numero Uno. You got that?"
"Oh, I get it just fine, X. But today you work with Agent Versailles."
"I don't believe this. First you drag me out of the goddamn bed at three o'clock in the fucking morning and now you're telling me I can't work solo anymore? What is this, Gibbons?" Xander fumed, half restraining himself from kicking the desk in frustration.
Gibbons quietly let him finish ranting before continuing, calm as ever. "Frankly, Triple X, I don't care. As hard as that must be for you to understand."
"Oh yeah, I know," Xander muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets forcefully. "She's green, Gibbons. I'm not a baby-sitter. And I'm not some James Bond 'Agent Maker,' okay?"
"She's already had the best training the government can give her, Xander. She graduated at the top of her class. She scored the highest in every field simulation that we have. She's the best in training, X."
"Training is a lot different than the field, Gibbons. And you don't need me to tell you that!" Xander half shouted at him, throwing the damned folder back on the desk and staring at it like it was some vile creature sprouting right there in the midst of a stack of paperwork. "Why the hell did you pick me for this? Is this some punishment? Did I screw up an assignment and you're getting back at me, what?"
"No discussion, Triple X. She's part of your job now. Maybe you'll like her. I seem to recall you being a big fan of ladies, right X?"
"Oh, fu-"
"Mr. Gibbons?"
Xander whirled around at the sound of the new voice. The newcomer raised his hands in submission and Xander moved out of the way, letting him talk to Gibbons.
"Uh, Sir, Ms. Versailles is waiting in the lobby. . ." the man said hesitantly, looking at Xander with some reluctance.
"Very good, Mr. Sandford, we'll be out to meet her in just a moment," Gibbons returned with a smile.
Apparently as satisfied as he was going to get, Sandford retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.
"I'm not doing this, Gibbons."
"You don't have a choice, Xander," Gibbons said simply, standing up and leisurely making his way around the desk and toward the door. "After you, X."
Xander glared at the older man, opening the door and slamming it behind the both of them, the frame rattling.
"If that's broken, it's coming out of your paycheck," Gibbons said under his breath, resulting in another glare from Xander. "Ms. Versailles?" he called.
A woman standing near the door turned her head, capped with a denim baseball hat. Xander appraised the woman quickly as she walked toward them, a slight sway to her hips. She wore a pair black, loose fitting khaki pants and forest green knit sweater over a black cotton turtleneck. She definitely had some curves to her, he noticed first off. But she hid too much of them, he mused silently.
She looked up at them, emerald eyes just like he'd thought from the photo. Grinning from ear to ear, she practically bounced toward the two.
"Way too eager," Xander muttered shortly, frowning. "Too damn early in the morning. . ."
"Welcome to the real NSA," Gibbons said, shaking her extended hand and nodding toward Xander. "This is Xander Cage, your new partner."
"It's great to meet you, Mr. Gibbons," Ariana said, a slight shaking entering her voice. With what seemed like a practiced effort, she took a deep breath to steady it. "I'm Ariana, most people just call me Ari though," she said, offering a hand to Xander, who just looked at her. "Well, uh, okay. . ." Ari said slowly, biting her lip but pressing on anyway. "Well, it's great to meet you, anyway. I mean, you're *the* Xander Cage. I can hardly believe they partnered me with you. It really is an honor. You're. . . something of a legend among the trainees."
"Yeah, ditto," Xander replied, hands stuffed into his pockets.
Ari looked at him with wide eyes, maybe a little surprised and disappointed at the same time.
No one said anything for several long moments, and Gibbons finally broke the awkward silence. "Go the briefing room and get acquainted. I'll be there in a few minutes with the rest of your mission."
* * *
Sitting in the briefing room, Ari watched Xander intently from across the large round table, her fingers tapping the metal tabletop lightly. They'd been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes and he hadn't said so much as three words to her the since she'd first walked in the door.
"Um. . ." she said lamely, just desperate for a little sound in the silence. "Gibbons said we should get acquainted so." Ari let the words hang, eyebrows raised in hopes he'd fill something in. "Guess you're not a morning person."
"Something like that," he answered, not bothering to look in her direction.
Anger suddenly swelled up inside her and she stamped her foot on the ground. He glanced at her, eyes narrowed in marginal surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back sullenly in the chair. This wasn't exactly what she'd pictured of her first day on the job. Nor was this how she'd imagined the infamous Xander Cage. Her excitement had dwindled to almost nothing and she stood up, pacing the room for lack of anything else to do.
After a span of about three minutes, he leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles, eyes following her even movements. "Would you *please* stop that?" he snapped.
"So he does speak!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "I was beginning to think you were mute! What the hell is your problem? This goes way beyond 'not being a morning person'!"
He stared at her, a little surprised by her sudden outburst. A little impressed, actually.
"What? What's wrong with me? Is it because I'm a woman, because I've got new for you, women have done far more than men could ever dream of in this-"
"It's not because you're a woman, okay? I'm not that sexist," Xander replied, resting his elbows on the table.
"Then what, huh?"
"Number one: I don't work with partners. Number two: you're green," he explained as if it were as simply as day and night.
"I'm not green!" she shouted, taking a threatening step toward him and suddenly thinking better of it, but not backing down. "I finished in the top of my class! I got the highest awards in all of the field exercises. . ."
"But you don't know shit about what's really out there."
That one stopped her dead in her tracks. She stared at him like he'd slapped her for about three seconds before balling her hands into fists at her sides indignantly. "I can't believe you. I can't fucking believe you! You of all people won't give the new guy a chance! Ha!"
"I read your file, too, Agent Cage!" Ari ranted. "Your first mission they picked you out of a bunch of drunken idiots!"
"They picked me because I had whatever the hell they were looking for. I got the job done."
"And what makes you think I can't?" Ari hissed, staring him down as best she could. She was going to show him what she was made of one way or another.
"Look, I'm not saying you won't be good at this. . . after some real field work. But I don't have the time to look after you, do you understand? I didn't ask for this job, I didn't ask for any of this, but here I am and here you are. I've got a job to do, and I'll do it. I can't have people in the way of that."
"Bullshit."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Ari muttered, turning her back on him. "I don't care what you think, I can do this job. It's what I've been trained to do. I didn't choose you either, but like it or not, we're stuck together so I guess we'd better get used to it."
He sighed, rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Too fucking early in the morning for this shit. . . "
CHAPTER TWO
"This," Gibbons said, dropping two thick white filing folders onto the round metal table and looking hard at each of them, "Is your mission."
"Should we choose to accept it. . . " Xander muttered under his breath, quoting the old television show absently. Ariana glanced in his direction quickly as he flipped the folder open, following suit soon after.
Gibbons stood at the end of the square room, Xander and Ari seated beside each other across the table from three other suited agents, the other three already well prepared and waiting the rest of the mission briefing.
Ari shifted in her seat uncomfortably, still not yet used to the mix of formality with. . . her unorthodox partner. She could already tell that this wouldn't be a usual mission by any standards if only because of his sporadic actions.
Gibbons nodded to one of the agents, the one in the center of the three, who immediately took up the silence left by his superior.
"Frankly, we're looking for a mole," the agent said simply, waving on hand toward the folder for emphasis.
Xander looked up, reading the nametag dangling precariously from a metal clip on his shirt-sleeve. The name read in bold, Arial print 'Phillipe J. Hernandez.' Xander lifted the first set of papers in the folder, revealing several apparently candid photographs of at least ten men, each with a matching profile containing whatever information they had chosen to provide for them. He thumbed through the pictures, paying close attention to the names and instantly committing the faces to memory.
"The first one," Hernandez was saying, "Is Jonathan Carletti. He used to be a heavy hitter for the mob, now he works for our big dog out here."
"Where is this?" Ari questioned, sitting forward in her seat and flipping through the photos herself.
"Actually, it's underground, but," one of the other agents supplied.
"But I'll get to that in just a moment," Hernandez continued without further notice. "He's basically a body guard, but a formidable enemy-at least I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley, and I was in the marines for the better part of my career. One bad-ass son of a bitch, but as long as you dodge security, and that shouldn't be too much of a problem, then you won't have to deal with him on a regular basis."
"The next photo is of one Coleman Schaffer."
Xander flipped to the next picture in line, taken in what looked like a warehouse of some sort, boxes and crates lying all over the place in the background. Schaffer had a thick head of dusty blonde hair and near black eyes. The man was tall, muscled, but not to the point of looking all that threatening.
"He's our 'big dog,' if you excuse the phrase," Hernandez informed the group, standing up and walking as he spoke. "Schaffer is basically a drug runner as far as the public knows. And most of the public has heard of him. His dealings are no secret, not even to the police, but there isn't anything on him. However, we're not looking at him because of drug trafficking. The NSA could care less about cocaine and heroin from guys like these. Coleman has recently discovered something new that are interested in." Hernandez shot a look over his shoulder at the agent that had been sitting to his left-Marcus Collins by the name tag-and the agent pushed a button on a small handheld remote. After a few seconds, a light projector in the corner reacted, spraying a lighted square over the wall before them.
As Hernandez continued talking, all eyes flicked toward the screen as a large picture showed a single glass tube lying on its side on what appeared to be a laboratory counter. The glass was a scientist's test tube, corked off at the top and filled within an inch of the rim with a thick liquid, colored a deep blue.
"They're calling it Y451," Hernandez explained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, absently fingering his thin mustache with one hand. "It's new and experimental."
"All our favorite characteristics. . . aren't they all?" Xander quipped, watching as the next slide clicked into place.
With a grunt, Hernandez gave a short laugh. "Sure," he said nonchalantly. "We're still not sure exactly how Y451 is being produced, but we do know that it is to be a key factor in the assassination of this woman."
The newest slide showed a close-up glamour shot of a woman in her mid- thirties with a thin face and high cheekbones. The woman had black hair cut short above her shoulders, tucked neatly behind her ears. In the picture she had on clearly too much makeup, and definitely not her color lipstick, looking more like an older woman trying to regain her youth than a natural picture.
"This is Ileitha MacPherson. She used to be one of Schaffer's best men, or, women, that is. She was his top priority in just about every aspect of the word. But he wouldn't let her in on the Y451 project because Schaffer is apparently tight-lipped about everything coming and going so long as it has anything to do with 'business.' She left him and he's out to get her because she's the only other person who had access to any of his accounts and who knows how he works.
"She's been under NSA supervision for about three weeks now. The government has given her immunity so long as she stays cooperative. She's really our only true vital link to the inside of his organization."
"What about all these other people?" Ari asked, holding up one of the photos. "They're listed as agents, why do you suspect them?"
"We've lost three agents in the last week and a half," Collins answered. Ari turned her head to look at him, waiting for further explanation. "And some inside information has spread to Schaffer, we know it. But there are still four more agents in place down there and way things are going down. . . We're fairly certain that this is an inside job."
"What about this drug?" Xander questioned, speaking for the first time in a while. "What else is he planning on doing with it?"
"At first we thought he intended to sell it on the streets," Hernandez replied. "But Schaffer has sold out to the rest of the company. Schaffer is small time compared to most of the other drug organizations in the United States. We think he's going to sell the drug out the highest bidder. Most of these people have nation-wide access. They'll be spreading it throughout both the United States and Europe."
"What's it do?" Ari inquired.
Collins clicked the remote again, changing the slides to show a small collage of pictures. "These are the stages of the drug," he explained. "It starts out with mild delirium, the progressed onto the higher levels of the 'high.' That's only on a minimum dosage, though. Higher amounts can result in a heart rate increased to extremely dangerous levels in a matter of seconds, and high fevers can accompany a strong sense of delirium. Those under the influence of Y451 couldn't tell you their own name after about thirty seconds of shooting up. An overdose can kill in about three minutes. But even the first dose is a slow poison. It's not like shooting up once in a while, get the high and move one. You don't even have to get addicted to it. Y451 doesn't leave the bloodstream. Ever. Unless specifically used with an 'antidote' of sorts, it slowly poisons the blood and causes a very painful death."
"Sounds like fun," Xander commented sarcastically.
"How. . . were the other agents killed?" Ari asked tentatively, glancing up at the photographs with a look of disgust crossing her fair features.
Gibbons took the remote from Collins and clicked to the next slide, showing several dead bodies, all grotesquely disfigured and still oozing blood, the flesh burnt and charred, sliced open until not a single shred remained recognizable. "That's after being injected with Y451," Gibbons said solemnly, meeting first her eyes and then Xander's intent gaze. "Now it's your job to replace them."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
4/15/03
Author's Note : Well, what did you think? That's the first three chapters and I've already started working on the next set. I'll post them up soon if anybody likes this story. . . Hopefully it doesn't suck too much. I know there hasn't been much action yet, but I've got one hell of a plan for later on in this one;) And there'll be plenty of action. Unfortunately, I tend to get a little violent in my action sequences, so. . . Fair warning. lol
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Thanks,
-FlameImmortal-