Desolation Angels

Anonymous: There are two kinds of people who never amount to much: those who cannot do what they are told, and those who can do nothing else.

'You're a machine boy!' J growled coldly to the boy before him. 'You're objective is to complete the mission no matter what the cost, no matter how many lives it takes. Is that clear?'

'Hai,' Heero answered automatically like a recording.

All he could see was the little girl with her puppy, smiling and laughing. All he heard were the screams and the sound of the building breaking apart as more people died for his mission.

Heero woke up in a cold sweat. He shook his head to clear it reminding himself that he no longer had any missions, no longer took orders from J, and he no longer piloted a Gundam. Some nights it was worse than others to remember that he did not have missions and that Dr. J could not get at him because he was dead, although he was not certain that he believed that. He was too used to the killing and battles; he was only kidding himself if he truly believed that he had a chance at leading a normal life like everyone else. He did not know the first thing about living a normal life and as he looked around the bare hotel room he had taken for the night he was not sure that he wanted one.

His dreams were becoming increasingly harder to distinguish from memory and reality. Heero had done research on his condition but there was not much that could be done for him other than to go on medication and extensive therapy. Therapy was not an option, it was too dangerous. Besides most of the qualified doctors would not treat him, no one wanted a reminder of the war so close at hand. Even if that reminder was the two time savior of the world, the media made that painfully clear, as did many of the prominent doctors in their refusal to treat soldiers.

Heero shook his head, clearing away those thoughts. He dressed quickly and efficiently and packed away his three sets of clothes that he had managed to gather in his travels. He was getting weary of being in Argentina; there was nothing here for him. There was no way to ease his dreams and nightmares, no way to recover the line that had blurred reality, not here.

He needed a place he could blend in better, a place where he could work and ignore the people around him. Heero sat back on the single mattress bed thinking about where he could disappear to. He had never been to America before and he remembered all the things that Duo had told him, the things that his few history classes had told him about. It sounded like what he was looking for, a place with diversity and where someone could lose themselves in the throngs of the big cities. Yes, he would go to America, to New York City.

The ever present black laptop sat on the nightstand and he turned to it and was rapidly scanning sites and collecting data. Currently New York City and the areas surrounding it were homes to just over fifty million people, plenty of people to lose himself in and not be noticed. It really was perfect. Heero booked himself a flight for that very evening, a non-stop flight straight to New York.

Heero arrived promptly at the shuttle port and went to the check-in area for flights to New York.

"Hello," He said politely but with no warmth behind it. "My name is Mr. Brown. I have a seat reserved on flight E144 in the first class section."

"Hold on one moment and let me check our records," The perky young woman offered with a smile.

She typed a few strokes on the computer, eyes scanning the list in front of her with a slight look of concentration. A few minutes later she was handing Heero Yuy a boarding pass and wishing him to have a pleasant trip to New York and to fly with her company again. Heero merely nodded at her and then turned and found a seat to wait.

He only waited twenty minutes to board for the long flight. He sat rigidly in his chair for the duration of the ten hour flight, not sleeping a bit because he did not want to have a nightmare that would scare the passengers. Heero had been kicked out of apartments and hotels because he had been so loud during some of the dreams. Drawing attention to himself again would not help him to disappear into the sea of humanity, a sea that he did not belong in.

The shuttle taxied into a New York terminal and he disembarked. He took a deep breath of the air and found it to be satisfactory if not a little smoggier than what he was used to in Argentina. Still it was pleasant in its own way. He could sense the busy hum of the city around him and shouldering his two bags he went off in search of a place to stay and food to eat. While he was the Perfect Soldier even he had to eat like a normal person and he certainly did not deprive himself of the option if eating was available to him.

He walked the busy streets, taking in everything around him. The people moved around him in great throngs and he could see tall buildings everywhere with people coming and going about their work. He knew that he could never be a part of that but he did not think he would be missing out on anything too important.

As he moved through one crowd where there was an open spot he felt a slight bump and knew instantly that his wallet was gone. He looked behind himself and saw a youth of about ten slipping down an alley way. The young boy reminded him of Duo, only Duo was much better at lifting things as Heero knew from personal experience. Roughly he pushed those thoughts far from his mind.

Rather than becoming angry at the thought of his wallet being stolen he was curious as to where the boy was headed. He remembered Duo telling him about kids picking pockets for a living but Duo had never told him where the kids went to after they had made their score. He followed after the young boy being sure not to follow to close but close enough so that the boy remained in his line of sight. He noticed that the neighborhood was getting rougher and rougher with each passing block. Finally Heero saw the boy disappear into an Italian restaurant and he followed only after a moment's hesitation.

Inside the room was dimly lit but his eyes rapidly adjusted and he quickly spotted that there were no customers seated but at the back of the room in a little booth he spotted the young boy sitting with two older men. He made sure that his bag was tucked securely over his shoulder before walking up to the little party who were still unaware of his presence.

"I want my wallet back," He said evenly to the boy.

The boy went pale and his eyes went wide with shock. Heero merely stared at him, waiting.

"I don't know what you're talking about," The boy stammered nervously.

"Omae o koruso," Heero threatened, drawing a gun out of his pocket, pointing it and cocking it right at the boy.

"Hey there now," A smooth voice cut in. "What's say you and me try and talk things out in a civilized fashion? We're not animals here."

"I don't recall talking to you," Heero growled out still keeping his gun and gaze on the boy but keeping track of the other two men at the table. "My wallet, now."

The boy fished it deftly out of his pocket and handed it over. Heero flipped it open and closed quickly before placing it his right backhand pocket where it had been taken from. He un-cocked and lowered his gun away from the boy. The danger was mostly passed now that he had what he wanted.

"Next time make sure you're not tailed," Heero advised the youth with a glare. "You never know what trouble you might run into."

"Wait a second," The smooth voice cut in once again. "What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing," Heero answered truthfully with a frown.

"What do you want if I hired you for something?" The man asked.

Heero saw that the man who spoke to him was close to forty with dark brown hair and eyes. His skin was olive and he had a slight accent to his voice. Over all though he did not look that bad, in fact he looked like he did not belong in the restaurant. He was too richly dressed to be in this neighborhood unless he perhaps owned the restaurant or had family working there. Heero instantly noted all of this and filed it away in his head for later use.

"I want to forget," He replied.

"I can do that for you," The man assured him. "Ever heard of Zeus?"

"No," Heero answered.

"Well Zeus can help you to forget," The man told him with a small smile. "And I can get it to you for free. And I'd be willing to pay you for your work as well."

"What is it that you want from me?" Heero asked.

"I want you to kill," The man said. "Can you do that?"

"Yes," Heero answered.

He needed to forget so desperately and all he needed to do was to kill, something he did well. He would do it just to forget. If he could forget it did not matter if he got more blood on his hands. They were stained permanently anyway, more deaths would never change that, he was beyond redemption of any kind.

"Marco," The man said to the larger man seated next to him. "Take our friend here and give him Zeus. Enough so he can sleep for the night. I'll come by tomorrow morning to check in on you. What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," Heero responded, brows drawn together. "My name is classified information and I don't think you'd really want to know what it is."

The man looked him up and down carefully and for the first time seemed aware of just how young Heero really was.

"How do I know that you can do the job?" The man asked, looking unsure of his possible employee.

"Tell me the mission and then give me Zeus and tomorrow I'll do it," Heero replied calmly.

"Kid," The man spoke to the young child, remembering suddenly that he was still there. "Beat it."

The young pickpocket scrambled out from behind the booth and fled out through the door flipping the sign so that it said closed. Heero turned back to the man after watching the young boy leave.

"What I want is for the mayor to meet with an unfortunate accident," The man said folding his hands on the table. "I don't care how it happens. He can slip in the shower for all I care just so long as he's dead and won't be coming back to life."

"Do you want it to look like an accident?" Heero began his questioning so he would know his mission parameters. "Would you like for there to be little remains left? Would you simply like him to have a bullet between his eyes like an assassination?"

"Shoot him," The man said at last with a nod. "It would be quicker and easier that way."

"I'll need a sniper rifle with a flash suppressor and silencer," Heero looked straight at the man. "The scope will need to be strong enough so that I can be up to two thousand or more feet away from the objective. I need to know his schedule. Where is his office building located? Where is his house? What time does he arrive at work?"

"Marco," The man turned to the big burly one seated beside him. "Can you get what he needs? Good. Answer his questions."

"He gets to work every morning at eight thirty exactly," Marco answered looking at Heero suspiciously. "Why does it matter?"

"I'll need to get set up at around four in the morning then just in case he comes early," Heero said thoughtfully planning out the mission in his head. "Are there any good vantage points in the surrounding buildings where the whole front of his office can be seen?"

"Plenty of those," The man called Marco laughed.

"I need a car waiting for me precisely three blocks away," Heero instructed. "I will not carry the weapon for more than fifteen minutes. I'll leave it in the car. I want to be dropped off ten blocks away from where I am picked up and I'll come back here for lunch."

"It will all be arranged," The man who appeared to be in charge promised. "I'll meet you here for lunch."

"It's already eight o'clock," Heero said glancing at the clock on the wall. "I need to go down to the building and scope out a good vantage point to shoot from. I'll be back here at midnight to pick up my things."

"Marco," The man said. "I want you to wait in the back for him. Make sure everything he needs is waiting and ready to go."

"I have just one more question," Heero said stopping the man while he was putting on his jacket. "Why does he need to die?"

"He double crossed me," The man spoke softly. "Because of him my nephew is in prison."

Heero nodded. He could understand now why the mayor was being killed and he would do it for the chance to forget. The man promised him that this Zeus thing would help him to forget and he no longer cared what Zeus was so long as it worked and kept the memories away. He just wanted to forget what he had done, he did not care about what he was about to do. It was only one life and not an innocent one based on the people he was now involved with. It did not matter if he died or not, none of it mattered so long as he was able to forget for just a little while, to slip into oblivion.

He found the perfect building off of Main St. that had the best view of the Mayor's office building from several different angles. The roof was easy to get to and he was confident in his abilities and knew that he would be able to get away in a hurry and with ease. He studied the area around him and the layout of the streets and shops in case he could not get away as he had planned. After several hours he went into a small diner and grabbed a cup of coffee. He was not cold or thirsty but the familiar warmth and caffeine would help him to be a little more alert when the time came.

Carefully he slipped into the darkness and went back to the little Italian restaurant. Marco was waiting for him in the back with the required items. The gun was perfect for the job.

"You know that small diner that's about two and a half blocks away from the Mayor's office?" Heero asked him. "It's called the Acorn Diner. I want the car waiting there out in front. I will be there by eight forty-five at the latest and if I'm not tell the car to leave. I want it there at eight."

"It'll be done," Marco promised him with a glance. "Don't worry about it. Where do you want to be dropped off?"

"I'll tell the driver that in the car," Heero answered not willing to trust anyone.

Marco did not look pleased at the answer but he remained silent without saying anything negative to Heero. It was as if he instinctively knew that it would get him no where fast and it might possibly have him put six feet under and that was something Marco did not want to risk. Heero went and dressed in all black and packed the gun away in the suitcase that he would use to transport it in to his site.

In another bag he packed away a pair of loafers and a blazer jacket, neatly folded so that the wrinkles would be less noticeable. At exactly three thirty he headed out the door with the bag slung over his shoulder and suitcase in hand. He stashed the bag behind a dumpster before he climbed up the fire escape and was sitting on the roof waiting for the Mayor's arrival by four in the morning. He sat for a few hours and then at six he began to assemble the gun, slowly so he would not draw any attention to himself or scare off the roosting pigeons. Then he found the position he would take the shot from. It was perfect and at seven forty he got himself in place and stayed still, waiting for his target to appear on the scene.

Around eight twenty three a black car with tinted windows pulled up in front of the building. The mayor, he knew from a picture he had been shown earlier by Marco, was ushered out of the car. Heero cocked the gun and lined up his target. He followed the man's movements through the scope and then he squeezed the trigger with one light tap and watched through the scope as the man went down in a burst of red.

Quickly he rolled away from the side of the building so no one could see him and then he went about disassembling the gun and packing it away which took him under two minutes. He raced down the fire escape and pulled the bag out from behind the dumpster. He took off his boots and slid the loafers onto his stocking clad feet. He slipped on the blue blazer and tucked his boots into the shopping bag. He walked out into the street and down toward the diner, briefcase and shopping bag in hand.

The car was there, waiting as he had requested. It was eight twenty nine as he climbed into the back seat and shut the door. The car moved smoothly away from the curb and drove off down the street.

"Drop me at the florist shop off to the east," Heero requested.

The driver and passenger up front said nothing but headed to the shop as they were asked. Heero stepped out of the car, empty-handed and shut the door behind him. He did not look back as he went down the street and disappeared quickly around the corner. From there he slipped into a slightly beat-up car and drove off to get breakfast.

After eating he went and drove around the city for a few hours to kill some time. He was back at the Italian restaurant right at noon. The man from last night was waiting in the same back booth and Heero walked purposefully over to him.

"Mission completed," He said to the man as he took the booth across from him.

"I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of ordering you a nice linguini," The man smiled at him. "Now, this has Zeus in it." He slid an envelope across the table which Heero took from him. "Don't open it here. You can never be sure of who's watching."

"Thank you," Heero said pocketing the envelope. "I need a place to stay."

"How long do you want to work for me?" The man asked.

"I don't know," Heero said. "For however long I can forget."

"Good," The man nodded approvingly.

Their meals were set in front of them and they began to eat. The food was good and based on the crowd that was coming in, people knew about it. Heero ate a few more bites before setting his fork down.

"What's your name?" Heero asked. "I should know since I'll be working for you."

"It's Carlos Corzano," Carlos replied. "You can address me as Mr. Corzano. I've made accommodations for living arrangements if you want them. I own a nice town house just outside of New York that I'd be happy to give to you for your services. Is there anything you require?"

"A computer," Heero said. "I can make the necessary modifications to it later."

"One is already there," Corzano said. "Finish your meal and I'll have Marco drop you off."

"Thank you," Heero said again.

"Don't thank me," Corzano smiled at him, pleased with the young man before him. "It's nothing. I take care of the people who work for me."

"What's going to happen to your nephew?" Heero asked curious to know if Carlos planned to get him out.

"He'll serve out his term I expect," Corzano said with a small sigh.

"I can get him out," Heero offered.

"You do breaking and entering?" Corzano asked in mild surprise. "Just what can you do? And what did you do before?"

"I was trained to do many things," Heero said at last. "Trained to kill, to always complete my mission without failure above all else. I can use guns and many other weapons. I can drive and fly most vehicles and break into high security places and get things or people out."

"Why?" Corzano asked.

"I can't tell you," Heero said flatly with a glare aimed at his new employer. "Don't ask anything about my past. Don't even try to find out because then I'll have to kill you and everyone connected to you to make sure it doesn't get out. Why, who I was, what I did, none of that matters any longer."

"Fine," Corzano said looking at him closely and taking a sip of wine. "I'll get you the plans to the jail that my nephew Franco is being held at. Whatever else you need is yours as long as you get him out of that stink hole."

"What do I do with him after I get him out?" Heero asked.

"Take him back to your place," Corzano instructed. "I'll have someone take him back to Italy."

They finished the rest of the meal in silence and then Corzano and Heero got into a waiting car and were driven off. Heero moved into the townhouse provided by Corzano and found that Zeus was a godsend to him. Names were a thing of the past and he no longer had dreams, he was in control.