Note: Changed the chapter name.
Short "filler" chapter, but I just HAD to write this.
Savio shook his head as Claes walked away from Bradley, rejecting his initial proposition.
"Not good with the ladies, eh General?" The young Agent snickered.
"I may be a bit rusty when it comes to smooth talk," Bradley replied, "But at least I'm married."
Life, Liberty, And…
A Gunslinger Girl fan fiction by:
Sintendo
Chapter Five: Father and Son
Somewhere in the boondocks of Rome, Italy; 2330 hours, July 2, 2005
"Claes, report your status." Bradley spoke to the girl via a headset. He sat in his SUV using binoculars to observe Claes as she sat a few hundred yards away at a bus stop. Alongside Bradley sat Jose and Henrietta; both of them as anxious as ever, seeing as this was their first mission with The General.
"No sign of him yet," Claes responded, "Should I relocate?"
"No, you stay where you are. This is the location that I gave him, so he's bound to show up at anytime."
"General?" Jose spoke, "Who is this man you're after?"
Bradley tossed a manila folder onto Jose's lap, "I'm sorry for not briefing you earlier, Jose, but time was of the essence. He could strike at any minute."
Jose flipped through several pages before arriving upon a rap sheet of Bradley's intended target. He began to read aloud.
"Guido Vespucci, age 43," he began, "Says here that he's a major player in the 'Padania Republic Faction', responsible for several tip-of-the-scale kidnappings and murders… and is the mastermind behind the attempted kidnapping of the daughter of Senator Sanctis, Caterina. I thought we killed the guy at the R.F. Villa?"
"Turns out you didn't." Bradley leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes, "You see this guy is a Grade A pedophile. He was on his way to… 'meet' Caterina… or should I say Claes? But when you attacked he turned tail and ran. The P.R.F. thought he was the only survivor of the attack, so they rewarded his endeavor by 'promoting' him to what he is today."
"So we barley missed him," Jose commented, "How could we have missed such an oversight?"
"Because he's that important to the Faction," Bradley said, "After he settled into his cushy new job within the P.R.F. he went back to his old habits, sexually assaulting children. And since he had the manpower to fuel his needs, his victims started piling up. Last month alone he held an average of 9 victims a week."
Jose felt the anger and disgust that came from Bradley's voice. He realized that Bradley wasn't doing this to get rid of a terrorist, but was instead was getting rid of a child molester; the feared enemy of all parents of children throughout the world.
"I've never heard of this before, General." Jose spat out the window, "Where did you get all this information?"
"I have my sources," Bradley took a sip of an unknown liquid from a pocket flask; "The reason why you've never seen this in the paper is because of his newly acquired political power. Once he's had his fill, he murders the poor thing and destroys any and all records of their existence. The parents file a missing child report, but the police can't really do shit about a kid that doesn't exist, now, can they?" Bradley tossed the flask over to Jose, "Drink some of this. I can tell you need it."
"Jesus Christ." Jose concentrated on suppressing the urge to vomit. He recalled the time he first laid eyes upon the butchered Henrietta. It was a nightmare that flashed before him every time he heard about mutilated children on the news.
He prayed that Claes would make the bastard suffer, making a mental toast as he took a large gulp from the flask.
"Brad," Claes called in, "Someone's coming… it's a Limousine"
"A limo in the boonies…," Bradley thought out loud, "This is it, Claes. You know what to do."
"Roger that."
Claes stood from her seat and adjusted the backpack that was slung over one shoulder. She began walking in the opposite direction that the Limo was heading.
As soon as the vehicle arrived at Claes' position, the passenger door swung open. A pair of gigantic arms flew toward the girl from within the car, wrestling with her for a bit until finally dragging her inside. Claes was officially kidnapped for the second time.
"Henrietta," Bradley spoke, "Get ready; stay next to us and pick off anyone that tries to run. Try to get some headshots; those are .22LR Sub-Sonics you're using so aim a bit higher."
"Yes, sir." The girl quietly slipped from her seat and lay on the ground next to Bradley's SUV. She steadied her Walther G22 rifle, aiming at the limo ahead.
After rolling forward for only a few feet, the limo jerked to a sudden halt. Immediately, the driver jumped out of the car and began running as fast as he could.
After a trio of low crackling sounds was heard, the driver fell; blood gushing from his neck. Henrietta had secured a direct hit.
Rapid clicks were heard from within the limo as it bounced around in place. The blood-curdling screams of men from within the limo were strangely satisfying to Jose and Bradley's ears; they both knew that Claes was taking her sweet time in the disposal of the trash that dared to call themselves "men".
After a few tense seconds the air became silent once again, and the limo's jumps slowly faded away.
"Brad," Cales radioed in, "It's done."
"Good job, now plant your gun on Vespucci," Bradley responded, "Jose, help me put the driver back into his seat while Henrietta sets up the fuse."
Social Welfare Agency: Training Grounds, Rome, Italy; 1500 hours, June 30, 2005
The triple burst shots of Claes' VP-90 and the explosions coming from Bradley's Raging Bull were the only sounds heard as they both stood side by side; the only ones who occupied the shooting range. Targets were distanced at an average 100 feet away, good enough for warming up for today's exercises.
"Remember, Claes," Bradley spoke when it was time to reload, "Sights are worthless in combat situations, so don't bother using them even during stationary target practice. Remind me to remove them later on."
"Got it." The girl replied.
"Also, alternate between using your firearm and a laser pointer to improve your hand/eye coordination when drawing your weapon; being a split second faster than your enemy is the difference between life and death."
"So… remove the butt-stock on my gun?"
"Yeah, you aren't going to use it on the field, so don't even bother with that for now," Bradley smiled, "though you can use it for fun now and then."
Claes returned to her target practice, only this time she was holding a handheld laser pointer. She would begin her exercise by placing the pointer into her hip holster, then drawing it and pointing the red-dot at a target in the distance.
"Good," Bradley complemented, "Keep doing that until you're able to point a bull's eye 100 consecutive times. Next week we'll begin REAL training."
"Roger that." The girl replied.
Bradley used this time to remove the synthetic butt-stock from Claes' firearm, as well as clean her weapon.
"An elegant choice for a side-arm…" Bradley thought, "But we'll have to find a suitable primary weapon for you."
He observed his partner as she continued with the exercise, relishing every moment that she hit a bull's-eye upon a draw.
"Keep it up and you'll be as good as I am…-" Bradley noted to himself.
The past few days were spent on instruction in a classroom, rather than field training. Claes had absorbed everyone one of Bradley's lectures, whether it be on tactical procedures, to the identification of insignia of the world's military officers, to psychological warfare by using sounds and vocal threats to psyche out her enemy. In a mere 14 days, Bradley turned Claes into the world's most knowledgeable soldier.
From now on, he would have to transform her into the strongest as well.
Off in the distance the sound of a footsteps heading towards Bradley's position was heard. He turned in the direction of the sound to spot a curious pair; one an adult man dressed in casual wear and carrying a swollen backpack on his back, the other a young teenager wearing similar clothing and carried several rifle bags on his shoulder.
Bradley identified them as Beneditto and his cyborg Baldo.
"Ah! General," Beneditto said as he set his bags onto the ground, "Finally I get a chance to meet you personally! My name is Beneditto DaVinci."
The man vigorously shook Bradley's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Beneditto," Bradley took his hand back, "I can see where Baldo gets his enthusiasm."
"Nah he's just like that," the Agent whistled for his cyborg, "Get the rifles prepped. You're getting sloppy with your distance shots so we're working on that today. Set the targets at 500 yards and wait for further instructions."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" The boy responded as he began to retrieve an arsenal of rifles from the various bags he was carrying.
Beneditto also began emptying the contents of his own bag. To Bradley's surprise, Beneditto's backpack turned out to be a cooler filled to the brim with ice and cans of-
"Soda?" Bradley wondered, "Why'd you bring soda?"
"They're Baldo's favorite," Beneditto said, "Besides, I can't drink beer around live ammo; wouldn't be a very smart thing to do. Want one?"
"No thanks," Bradley said, "I'm not thirsty."
Beneditto popped open a can and took a quick sip before speaking, "So how's training going along?" Beneditto offered Bradley a seat on a picnic table located a few yards away from the firing area.
"It's going very smoothly," Bradley said as he began dismantling Claes' firearm, "I can't believe you guys would let her wither away like that."
"Don't look at me! I have nothing to do with the decisions in and around Section Two."
"Yeah, I know."
"So she's doing well, eh?"
"She's doing extremely well; Unlike certain people in this Agency, I reward my partner for a job well done. Usually I just take her to a book store or record store and let her use up her entire allowance."
Beneditto coughed a bit of his drink, "Well that isn't unethical, but it is irregular in this line of work. I do the same with Baldasarre. If he does well, we hang at the mall. If he does bad… we hang out at the mall anyways."
"Think you're spoiling him a little?"
"Nah," Beneditto sipped his drink, "He's still a kid, so I'm letting him have some fun."
"That's very true," Bradley lit a cigarette and began smoking, "But you do have to put your foot down once in a while."
"This coming from the man who's rumored to have 10 children…"
Bradley chuckled, "I do have 10 kids. I am the proud father of 10 beautiful children."
"Jesus," Beneditto was shocked, "I can't even handle Baldo, let alone 10 kids. You have heard of a 'condom' right?"
"Heh," Bradley smiled, "Of course I have. Having a child is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world; it's also the hardest to explain why it is so."
"Then…," Beneditto started, "Was it hard for you to stop having kids?"
Bradley studied the curious expression that was plastered on the young agent's face.
"No it's just," The man hesitated, "…the way I was raised; the way my wife was raised. In traditional Japan, small families are frowned upon. I was raised a single child, so I never had the joy of having smaller siblings around me."
Beneditto's face instantly turned into a serious look as Bradley spoke. The transformation caught Bradley's attention, but he continued.
"I was raised on the road; traveling 24-7. It was a non-stop journey. I… made a promise to my foster mother before she left. I said to her, 'If you promise to come back one day, I'll promise you that you'll have lots of grandkids.' She laughed, of course, but I was serious."
"Did you ever see your mother again?"
"No," Bradley smothered his finished cigarette under his boots, "...I doubt I ever will."
"Aww, come now, don't say things like that. What was she like, anyhow? Where'd she run off to?"
It was Bradley's turn to change the subject, "So what's it like being Baldo's handler? I'm sure it's a handful."
"…well not really, he's a good kid," Beneditto said, "He rarely gets out of hand, 'cept when it comes to girls."
"So I hear."
"It's funny," Beneditto chuckled, "Before his conditioning he was a very quiet boy."
"You knew him before he was conditioned? Is that why you chose him to become your partner?"
"Before I answer that, General, may I ask you another question?"
"Go on ahead."
"If one of your children were to die, would you do anything to bring them back to life?"
Bradley had no response. Instead, he eyed the man before him with a solid face; not blinking, not making any sudden movements. It was almost as if he were reading a book. There was something about Beneditto's sudden change of attitude that bothered Bradley. It wasn't just the awkward timing of his question, since one of Bradley's own children was suffering from a serious fever; it was as if Beneditto was seeking advice.
(Beneditto:Narrator)
My real name is "Benito Vespucci".
When I first started working for the SWA, I was a simple data analyst. My job was to study the geographical area of aerial photographs taken from spy planes or satellite images for Section One. I was a hard worker, one of the best non-field operatives of the entire agency. I was also considered the backbone of Section one, as Dragi would commonly refer to my group and I. Every mission that Section One was given, I was there providing data and layouts of the target area.
The reason I was that good?
My brother, Guido, was part of the Padania Repiblic Faction. Not only was he simply a part of the P.R.F., but he was one of the big bosses. I gave away secrets, things that would lead to the eventual demise of any threat to Italy. In essence…I was a professional double agent. My brother never knew I was working for the government.
I hated my brother for working with terrorists, but he never knew; I don't think he even cared to find out. All he knew was that I was living at his house and watching his boy. For doing that and keeping my mouth shut about his activities, I was paid a hefty sum every week.
Besides spending the money on myself, I would take his son, my nephew, out to several places and buy him lots of gifts. I raised him as if he were my own son, since the day he came home from the hospital. I even loved him as such, I truly did. There was only one time when we were ever apart, and that was when I went to work.
When I went to work, my brother would keep an eye one him. When I came home, the boy would either be crying himself to sleep or he would stay in the bathroom all day.
I knew what was going on, but I didn't have the balls to approach my brother. After all, it was he who took me in and cared for me. Confronting him would mean the end of my means of support as well as my life.
All that changed about a year ago. I got a call one day while lounging at work. My nephew had been beaten half to death. I knew exactly who did it.
When I reached the hospital I went nuts. I strangled my brother, cursed him, and screamed at him for what he did, what he was doing to his son while I was away. It took the strength of 3 bodyguards to peel me off. The bastard then had the audacity to walk away.
He walked away from his own son as he lay there dying of Fistula, a cracked skull, and a punctured lung and throat.
No words were exchanged as my brother walked away, but I knew that I was as good as dead; as dead as my own nephew lying on the bed before me.
I begged Lorenzo to help.
"Jesus Christ," Bradley said, "Are you saying that Baldo is-"
"My nephew," Beneditto plainly said, "He's my flesh and blood. I did it to save his life."
"How?" Bradley started, "How'd you persuade Lorenzo to go with this?"
"I spilled my guts about the PRF. Maps, whereabouts of bosses, plans. Everything I knew about, I told to Lorenzo and the higher-ups. I also gave up my identity for security reasons; I now live and work here in Section Two as a full-time agent under the alias 'Beneditto DaVinci', working the same schedules as the cyborgs. I can't go back to the way I was. To do so would be certain death at the hands of my own brother."
"Benny!" Baldo interrupted the men's conversation, "Everything's set up. Shoud I start?"
"Wait for me," Beneditto stood from his seat, "I have no idea why I told you all of this, General. Maybe it's because this is the first time I've spoken to a real father. Thanks, General."
"For what?" Bradley wondered.
"For the therapy session in disguise. For letting me vent what I wanted to say ever since I joined Section Two."
"No problem…"
"One last thing, General. You still haven't answered my question."
"If one of my children were to die, would I do anything to bring them back to life?"
"Well would you do anything to get them back?"
"You're damn right I would. Even if it meant playing god, I'd do anything for my children."
"That's what I wanted to hear," Beneditto turned to his cyborg, "Alright boy-o, let's get to work."
Bradley examined the man now known as Beneditto as he walked to his cyborg. He knew that underneath that proud and youthful exterior was a distraught man who knew full well that he'd never get his true nephew back, yet he continued working with the boy.
Bradley realized that he had to reexamine the very definition of the word "Father".
End chapter Five
Coming soon:
Chapter Six: Explosions