The Spy Who Kinda Liked Me
By Fool's Gold
Chap. 2: From Merida With Love
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything that I'm ripping off, whether it's FMP, James Bond, or anything else that I might parody. Which is just as well, considering how I'm not making anything from it. So keep those lawyers away from me…
Merida Island, 7 Oct, 1215h
When Captain Testarossa put her braid to her lips, the rest of W Department knew better than to disturb her. It was usually the first sign that she was deep in thought, and usually a bit worried to boot.
Right now, she was formulating her plan of attack. The target would be walking down the corridor shortly, arriving for his scheduled appointment. So, all she had to do was to wait, and things would simply fall into place…
The sound of footsteps echoed around the corner, and she poised herself in anticipation. The trap was flawless: a pretence at coming around the corner, a carefully-timed 'accident', and…
She struck.
"Captain Testarossa, are you okay?" K asked, completely unfazed by the girl who had suddenly stumbled around the corridor and ended up clinging onto his forearm for dear life. Behind him stood Uruz 007, looking very concerned, and M brought up the rear with a wary glint in his eye, as though he knew exactly what had transpired in her mind.
Drat. "Sorry," she mumbled abashedly, disengaging herself. "So, Double-Oh Seven, it looks like you're on another mission."
"Affirmative, Captain." Sousuke's greeting was, as always, ramrod-stiff.
She wished they could have been on a first-name basis, but it was, sadly, not to be – Sousuke's mind was too entrenched in its military morass to even consider such familiarity. To him, she would always be the US Navy Captain, on indefinite loan to the United Nations for research work… and he, the infantry grunt, forever the lowly underling. "Right. This way, then."
The four of them made their way down the narrow passageway, each keeping their own thoughts to themselves…
My nookie… Gone…
I'll safeguard Tessa's honour with my life – especially against you, Double-Oh-Seven!
Must focus… On mission…
Heh, still the man after all these years…
W Department was a veritable madhouse, which only meant that it suited its crew perfectly. The men and women who constantly cooked up countless ideas for the betterment of Mithril-Six were all acclimatised to the barrage of explosions, smoke and incandescence that permeated the place, and seemed to relish the experience. M, on the other hand, thought it was a reasonable facsimile of Hell. And Tessa, caught between the two, had wisely appropriated the one soundproofed room in the testing grounds as her own.
"Okay, Double-Oh-Seven. You know you can't bring the heavy weaponry you're accustomed to into Japan, right?" Tessa led the group past Sousuke's obvious choice, a table laden with various pointy instruments of death, towards the back of the room. "That's why we're getting you some slightly… unorthodox equipment."
The other table held an eclectic mix of items: a travelling kit, a sleek black wristwatch, even an umbrella, and more… all perfect for a man on a business trip, but hardly the equipment that Sousuke had been expecting. How would these aid him in his mission?
"Allow me to demonstrate," Tessa began, voicing the concerns of a hitherto-unnoticed fanfiction writer. "For starters, we've repaired your communicator after that last mission."
The special-issue communicator, approved only for Uruz-class agents, was Tessa's pride and joy. It was a mystery as to how she had managed to cram everything – and when that included two-way wireless communication from almost any location in the world, GPS tracking, the obligatory digital camera, laser cutter, taser and grappling hook, and even a free MP3 player, they meant everything – into something the rough size and shape of a wristwatch, but it had been done. And if that hadn't been enough, they'd also made it waterproof, fireproof, shockproof and even bulletproof… but, as Sousuke had discovered to his chagrin, they hadn't quite figured out how to make it bombproof as yet.
He strapped it onto his wrist automatically, feeling a little less naked than he usually did without his usual armaments.
Next, Tessa picked up the overnight kit, emptying its contents onto the table. "The 'toothpaste' is actually plastique," she continued, "and the toothbrush is the detonator. You've used these before."
Sousuke nodded, although it wasn't exactly true. Somewhere out there, though, an enemy guard was dead, his jaw blown to smithereens courtesy of a confiscated set of Tessa's exploding toiletries.
"Excellent. We've added something new to the set, though. I've been testing out oligomolecular technology for quite a while, but this is the first time we're actually using it this way. Observe."
The three men watched, intrigued, as she picked up a free razor blade and used it to cut a strand of hair from her braid. That was nothing special. But when she subsequently waved it into the air, just above the same blade, he began to pay a little more attention, especially when the silvery thread drifted slowly downwards, wafted its way towards the upturned edge… and fell into two parts as it passed.
Both M and K nodded in approval: it was definitely a finely-crafted razor. Only a few types of blades were even capable of achieving such sharpness, as far as they knew.
"Permission to speak, Captain Testarossa…"
"Hmm?"
"I can do the same with my machete."
…as mentioned, only a few could.
His blunt reply almost made her burst into tears, all hope of earning brownie points dashed to pieces against his stony response, but she kept it in, willing herself not to weep in frustration as she shot back, "This is the cutting edge of technology, Double-Oh-Seven! I'd advise you not to look down on it." Still, it was not enough to keep her from dropping the blade back onto the table… and neatly slicing off a fair-sized corner as it fell directly to the floor.
"Indeed," Sousuke replied, finally impressed. He picked up the fallen blade, placing it back onto the table, this time on its flat side.
His response mollified Tessa somewhat. "I'm glad you see it that way. Anyway, the dental floss is crafted out of the same material, so if you want to use it, just crack the casing open and use the two halves as handles. But whatever you do, don't floss."
"Roger."
"Now, on to the big guns." Tessa walked over to the golfing equipment. "I know how you like your weapons…"
…more than me, that's for sure…
"…so I specially kitbashed some stuff for you." She picked up the last item on the table.
K knew that umbrellas, when used in the employ of the secret services, were hardly innocuous. The story of Georgi Markov, killed by a jab from a ricin-tipped umbrella, had been well-circulated even among the public, and all Mithril agents were required to study the incident as part of their basic training. He, having been tangentially connected to the Bulgarian KGB in the old days, was particularly familiar with the topic.
Does anybody still fall for the umbrella stab these days? he wondered, remembering the time he had to deal with a batch of hydrophobic rookies. That had been decades ago: assassination techniques only remained useful until the day they were exposed. "Captain, I'm not sure that such an old trick is advisable…"
She didn't even reply, stalking towards the range at the far end of the room instead, and hefted the umbrella to her shoulder. One deafening roar later, a fair-sized chunk had been torn out of the wall next to the unscathed mannequin.
The men were speechless.
"It holds up to eight rounds, and the working mechanisms are pretty much similar to your regular shotgun. Here, take a look."
"Don't encourage him, Tessa," M muttered in vain.
Sousuke accepted it coolly, noting how the weapon's components had been incorporated into the basic shape of an umbrella, but even he was surprised to find an extra feature: it actually opened up. "So, you can use it…"
"…as an umbrella? Yes. Just replace the cap, or it'll rust."
"Intriguing."
"Glad you like it," Tessa replied, albeit with a hint of bitterness in her voice. Her time was almost up. "So, Double-Oh Seven… I guess that's it…"
He didn't say anything.
"You know, I just wanted to tell you…"
…and she flung her arms around his neck in a bear hug, never wanting to let go. She buried her face in his broad shoulder, half-sobbing, half-blurting out, "Come back to me safely, Sousuke."
He reciprocated, lowering his head to whisper gently into her ear. "I lo…"
M coughed discretely, shattering the fantasy into a billion sparkling pieces.
"…that there's one more item, but it's undergoing some modifications in Japan at the moment. I'll get Melissa and Kurz to hand it over when you arrive." She bit her lip, rueing yet another wasted chance. "Good luck."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Somewhere else, a little while later…
"Sir, the dog of the military has been loosed."
"Excellent work. Let's give him a warm reception, shall we?"
New Tokyo International Airport, 8 Jul, 1306h
The 747 touched down at Narita Airport, discharging its bellyful of tourists in a jostling, uncomfortable gush. Caught in their midst, Sousuke still managed to force his way out towards the taxi stand, although not without difficulty – he was hardly comfortable with crowds, and the temptation to exercise some 'crowd control' with a firearm did not go unnoticed. After all, he had an appointment to keep with the head of the UN University.
A nagging feeling gnawed at his insides: something didn't sit right with him about his mission.
He'd pulled bodyguard duty a fair number of times for Captain Testarossa and other high-ranking members of the UN. The standard operating procedure was for agents to learn as much as was humanly possible about their principal – from their basic features all the way down to the smallest habit and idiosyncrasy – in order to adequately protect the person. At the very least, he would have been instructed to do some preliminary surveillance before taking on the task. But the briefing dossier had been very clear about what he had to do: he was to make his way down to the university on his own, and once there, the Dean would give him further details regarding his work.
Nothing else.
It smacked of sloppy technique, wholly uncharacteristic of his superiors: why hadn't they even included the name of the person he had been assigned to? There was no sense in sending someone to guard an unknown variable, and no self-respecting protection agency would send out a man thus unprepared: as much as Mithril-Six valued secrecy, the lack of information practically invited enemy agents to compromise both his cover and his actual task. He should have voiced his misgivings beforehand…
Still, he didn't want to think too much about it. M must have had his reasons, and at the moment, there were more important issues to consider, like finding a way to get to his destination on time.
"Yo! Need a ride?"
It was hard not to miss the portly middle-aged man who leant out of his taxi's window, waving like a lunatic. Sousuke approached the man cautiously.
"Where to, boss?"
"The UN University."
"Say, you're new to the country, aren't you?" The man's balding forehead wrinkled into a mass of creases as he shook his paradoxically-long golden mane. "It's really expensive to take a taxi into Tokyo. You'd have been better off using the Shinkansen."
Damn. Two minutes into the country, and he'd already come this close to blowing his cover. So much for looking like a native: what little he knew of his country of origin had been gleaned from his few years in a Japanese high school, part of Mithril's exposure program. K had been adamant: it would not do for an ethnic Japanese to know nothing about his country of origin, and having been brought up in Russia and Afghanistan for the better part of his life was no excuse. "I see," he muttered, crestfallen, and began to walk away.
"Hold it," the driver called, sympathising with his plight. "Ah, I'll tell ya what… For you, I'll make an exception and waive the fee, just this once. And I guarantee that you'll get to your destination on time. Howsabout it?"
Against his better judgement, and pressed for time, Sousuke loaded his luggage into the boot and got on board. "Fair enough. Can you get me there by two-thirty?"
The grin on the driver's face widened maniacally. "Sure thing." With that, the engine roared to life, the sudden lurch thoroughly unsettling Sousuke as the taxi sped down the streets of Tokyo. It felt worse than the time he'd ridden in a damaged Bradley at top speed over rocky terrain, and that was saying something.
"Are you always this… fast?" he managed to get out through clenched teeth.
"Only when I need to beat the bullet trains. Say, bub." He barely managed to hear the driver's voice over the screaming wind, the roar of jet engines, and the squeal of tires as the taxi weaved its way through traffic. "You mind a little music?"
Sousuke didn't really care if the man turned the radio on: his mind was preoccupied with the increasingly-impossible task of keeping his lunch down. "Go ahead."
Without warning, the taxi driver broke into a rousing rendition of "Ave Maria" – and, oddly enough, even with the incredible din in the background, he was painfully audible.
Sousuke shuddered, clinging on to his seatbelt for dear life. If Captain Testarossa had been around, she would possibly have likened it to floating down the canals of Venice in a gondola… except that this was hardly a serene cruise, and his 'gondolier' was definitely no songbird.
The taxi hit a speed hump, forcing a half-regretful, half-nauseous groan from Sousuke's lips, but he remained stoic. As long as he arrived on time, it was worth the suffering.
Akihabara, 8 Jul, 1410h
This isn't the place.
Sousuke stared up at the garish neon signboard that read, "UN Hotel", and blinked. Then, looking around at the shadiest street in Akihabara, he blinked hard again.
I'm not an otaku, I'm a specialist, he mused, beginning his trek down the streets of Akihabara in search of a more reliable means of transport. He wasn't sure he wanted to see another taxi again, anyway. The smell of burning rubber still lingered, even though the driver was probably a hundred miles away by now, considering the speed at which he tore away from the area.
He was definitely going to be late…
"Hey, sailor."
He flinched, only now seeing the girl who had suddenly appeared in his line of sight.
Strangely enough for a man, it was her eyes that Sousuke first noticed, and for all the enthusiasm that the girl had attempted to project into her voice, it was her eyes that revealed the truth. She could have been a robot, for all the emotion – or lack thereof – that he saw in those cold, soulless orbs. It was the expression commonly seen in those who were tired of life, jaded by the vagaries of the world; prostitutes were infamous for such a look, but it was not uncommon, at least in this line of work, for killers to bear the same face. And that wasn't good.
Still, she had interesting taste when it came to clothes. The girl wore a vinyl jumpsuit, one so tight that it left absolutely nothing to the imagination – even one as limited as Sousuke's. At least, it did enough to trigger the danger centres in his brain, honed to perfection at the expense of his libido, and he attempted to take evasive action…
"Sorry. I am not from the Navy."
…rather unsuccessfully.
"Who cares?"
He whirled around, surprised by the second voice – it was another girl, her features almost a perfect likeness of the first's, her eyes the same blank slates. And she beckoned to him, her voice practically an echo, "Why don't you come along with us, shy boy? I'll bet we could show you a good time…"
Twins? Now things were getting creepy, contrary to Agent Weber's accounts of his own escapades. He was outnumbered: he had to get out of there, and fast.
"…I am having a good time already." The next thing they knew, he had wrenched himself free of the twins' grasp, and was dashing down the streets of Akihabara like the proverbial bat out of hell.
The twins looked at each other in well-concealed dismay, only evident to each other under their unchanging masks. Then, in a carefully-practiced gesture, one of them reached over to her sister, tugging the zip of her bodysuit down sensually, and slipped her hand in, sending the horde of watching fanboys into a torrent of nosebleeds. As a result, none of them noticed the cellphone she pulled out, or the call she made, even though all were disappointed when a taxi pulled up to take them away.
The taxi driver guffawed, leering lustfully at the twins. "Tough luck, ladies. I offered to rehearse with you…" He yanked hard at the wheel, barely avoiding the car that he'd nearly rammed into in his distraction.
The girls gave him the glare of death, but remained silent. It was not wise to aggravate one's superiors. "What now?"
"Anyway, I'll get in touch with the boss."
The aforementioned "somewhere else", a little while later…
Hey, Long John! The girls couldn't pick our boy up. Will this affect Operation Great Breast?
Kalium
"It's 'Great Beast'," the man known as Silver noted without evident malice. "Although I must admit… Oh, never mind." He began to type out his reply.
Proceed as planned.
UN University, 8 July, 1628h
"Ah, Mr. Sagara. Good to see you," the Dean said, not meaning any word of it. After all, having a tardy bodyguard was tantamount to not hiring one at all, for all the good it did the client.
The irony was wasted on Sousuke. "Likewise."
"I've heard that you've been dispatched by the Security division for the protection of one of our staff members."
"I believe that is the case, although I was not informed of the details." That was the first piece of tangible information that he'd received. So his principal was not only a member of the UN's R&D team, but also a staff member at the university.
"No matter, no matter. Anyway, the young lady in question, while not having been threatened or harmed directly, has reported a fair number of disturbances in the past few days – or more precisely, the past few nights. Apparently, she's being stalked."
Sousuke began to wonder if the task he'd been assigned for his cover wasn't merely a sham. It was the ideal setup, in a sense: it was easier for him to monitor the surroundings under the pretext of ensuring his principal's safety, and he would have more leeway to investigate any suspicious individuals in the area, be they stalkers, terrorists, or other foul creatures of the night.
It was a perfect fit, which made the lack of detail mentioned in the briefing folder even more incongruous. For all the effort that Mithril-Six's planning staff had put into setting up the scenario, they could at least have been more proud of their efforts.
"Normally, we'd let campus security deal with the matter, but the girl's father is an official in the UN… you know, a Very Important Person and all that. Besides, here at the university, we take stalking seriously, especially after the Pony Stalker struck several years ago." The Dean rubbed his bald pate reflectively. "Never thought this would be a blessing."
More information that hadn't been in the dossier, Sousuke thought.
"It would be better to hear the full story from the victim herself. I've informed her that you've just arrived, so she should be down here any minute now…"
And on cue, the door opened, admitting Sousuke's charge.
"Oh, hell no," Chidori Kaname breathed.
Credits: Once again, thanks go to Weltall Elite for proofreading and constructive criticism. And to all who have read this so far: if you spot any glaring errors, please notify me.
Author's Notes: Ah, Tessa. Moneypenny and Q rolled into one pint-sized package, and as unlucky as both combined. (Rather convenient for me, though.) And it's scary how easily FMP lends itself to a comparison with the James Bond franchise – Sousuke may not have any of Bond's social skills, but both of them inevitably leave mass destruction in their wake in what they call "Covert" Operations. Secret agent, my foot.