Please see Disclaimer in Chapter 1.

The events in Idiot Beloved take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; Firebird Sweet directly follows that timeline, and you can probably get more out of this sidefic if you read IB and its sequel first.

Title: Operation Rosary C2: Down In The Dungeon

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, General

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: Bound hand and foot, neither Issei nor Hiei seems likely to escape.

A/N: C1 has been totally re-furbished as of now! Operation Rosary is told through the viewpoint of Hiei's 'partner,' who has never met him till now---yet discovers a nagging familiarity. The burnt-out factory of Two Shots (YYH manga, Vol. 7) is the main setting. And as to whether the Agency does, in fact, exist---well, if I told you, Hiei would have to kill you.

"I want my Rosary back!"

Operation Rosary (C2: Down In The Dungeon)

by

Kenshin

As dungeons went, this one seemed seemed more cheerful than most.

Ueda Issei tried to calculate how much time had passed since he'd regained consciousness, shackled to a cinderblock wall.

He tried timing the throbbing pains in the back of his head but there was, of course, no real way of telling.

One thing was certain---James Bond would never find himself in a situation like this. The legendary 007 would carry some secret explosive device disguised as a harmless cuff link, automatically activated by measuring his galvanic skin response.

But no matter how hard he tried, Ueda Issei was no James Bond.

For one thing, unlike 007, Issei drove no flashy sports car, but an Agency-issue Toyota Corolla. And he was not exactly a success with women---as Miss Sakamoto's amused, distant attitude toward him revealed all too well.

Though he didn't want hundreds of women giddily flinging themselves at him; only Miss Sakamoto, and maybe not even giddily flinging. Just a normal sign of interest would be nice.

Nor was he any Funakoshi Gichin, founder of Shokotan Karate, who had said, "In time of grave public crisis, one must have courage.... to face a million and one opponents."

That little freelancer Hiei far better embodied such ideals. A million and one opponents, and Hiei had almost beaten them.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and snap out of it!

Issei studied the room for the umpteenth time, seeking an escape route. Some 15 feet wide and 25 long, its walls were painted a chalky, hospital green. Linoleum of almost the same hue, enlivened by streaks of white, gray and rust, covered the floor. There wasn't so much as a stick of furniture. And rather than smoking torches, illumination came from a flickering fluorescent panel set flush into the low, water-stained ceiling.

The ceiling itself was comprised of acoustic tiles held in place by a gridwork of metal lath.

A heavy steel door was set in the wall tantalizingly close to Issei. With its small, dirty pane of wired safety glass, the door did not seem to be the room's weak point.

In all, his prison resembled nothing so much as a basement in a low-rent meeting hall. It was a dungeon nonetheless, if only by virtue of the shackles holding him captive.

The cuffs encircling Issei's wrists and ankles felt strong enough to hold an elephant, and were attached to heavy chains about eighteen inches in length, far too short to allow a stroll to the door, as he'd already learned. The chains were coupled with iron plates bolted to the cinderblock walls.

Issei had tried to free himself when he first awakened, jerking his arms forward, testing the strength of the chains and cuffs, until the flesh of his wrists began to bleed. The leg cuffs were every bit as unyielding.

Shackled to the wall opposite Issei, Hiei looked dead.

Suspended by both arms, his head hanging forward, only the barely-detectible rise and fall of Hiei's chest told Issei the tough little freelancer was still alive. Even then, from this distance, it was hard to tell. He did not respond to his name.

Why did they send Operative X? Hiei had asked.

Issei could think of a few reasons, all of which made him uneasy. Particle physics and this dirty, burnt-out factory did not seem like a natural pair at first glance. But instinct, coupled with the theft of the Moolooite crystal, told him there was something here far worse than his usual caseload of drug smuggling and industrial trafficking.

There was also the matter of that odd shift in the air, just before the monsters attacked. Perhaps there had been no monsters. Perhaps they had been subjected to a new weapon capable of producing hallucinations.

He called out to Hiei again. No response.

Issei's toes just touched the floor, and his shoulders ached from the pull; he could imagine how much more painful it would feel for the smaller man, whose entire weight hung. And Hiei had taken far more damage than Issei.

Why didn't they just kill us outright? And what about that shift in the air---similar to how the atmosphere gets charged before a storm... if they're testing an hallucinatory weapon...

When Hiei finally came to, he simply raised his head. In spite of a bruised and bloodied face, he showed no signs of confusion, regarding Issei with oddly alert crimson eyes---again giving Issei the nagging sensation he'd seen him before.

Dismissing their prison with a single scornful glance, Hiei said, "Priceless. They ought to rent this out as a movie set." Then he turned his head and spat blood on the floor.

"I should have been prepared for this," Issei admitted.

"And I should have been able to handle those guys."

"With all due respect, 'those guys'---"

"Were nothing but thugs. Redshirts. D-class---" Hiei broke off, and Issei had the feeling that he had checked himself from saying anything further.

Issei went on. "Four-Arms moved too fast for anyone to see, let alone react."

"Not too fast for me. Told you, something's wrong." Then, still dangling in the air, Hiei slid his left foot up the wall, bending at the knee so he could brace the flat of his foot against the wall. Raising his right leg, he gave the shackle an experimental tug.

Flexible he might be, but with his smaller size and lighter weight... "No use," Issei began. "I've already---"

With a single vicious kick, Hiei popped the chain from the wall plate.

Astounded, Issei stared in silence.

Hiei liberated his left leg in the same manner. Then, grasping the wrist chains like he was an Olympic gymnast, Hiei used them as leverage to inch up the wall until he had enough slack to wrap the chains around his hands.

"Stupid youkai," Hiei muttered, then ripped the right-hand chain from the wall. The action caused him considerable damage. "Don't they even do their homework?"

"Youkai? So it wasn't just an hallucination? Those creatures that attacked us---"

"Not human," replied Hiei, popping his left-hand chain free. He tumbled to the floor, then rose, brushed dust from his pants. "Your turn," he added, as casually as though he were announcing a new round in a game of Go.

"But I can't---I mean, I already tried---"

"Yeah, yeah." Walking over to Issei, Hiei freed his partner just as he had freed himself. Up close, Issei could see the damage those chains had inflicted, in the form of brutal red stamps upon Hiei's flesh.

"Your hands," Issei began.

"What?" Scowling, Hiei rattled the chains still dangling from Issei's legs. "Best I can do. How are you at dragging chains around?"

"They're bleeding," finished Issei.

"The chains?"

"Your hands."

"Ch," Hiei snorted.

Issei untucked his pristine white shirt, then, somewhat hampered by the chains, tore strips from the shirttail and helped his impatient partner bandage his torn hands.

When the job was finished, Issei patted himself down, while Hiei rummaged in his own pockets, muttering, "Didn't leave me with anything. Not even the phone. Took my sword, too."

"Sword? Where was---"

"I'm guessing your gun's gone."

"Gun, mags, holster," Issei agreed. "Even my echinacea."

"They took your echinacea?"

Issei nodded. "And my vitamin C."

"Your vitamin C? Now we're really screwed."

"Look on the bright side. We're dragging chains."

"That's the spirit," quipped Hiei.

"Maybe we can pass ourselves off as ghosts." Then, all too casually, Issei asked, "You were also carrying ...?"

"Holy Water," Hiei grumbled. "Holy Salt." He dug into his shirt and pulled out a string of brown wooden beads. Issei recognized it as a Rosary. The figure of Christ had the dull gray luster of pewter.

"Damn. I suspected as much, but until now---" Slipping it off, Hiei examined the Rosary in minute detail, as though he had never seen it before. Then he muttered a curse.

Issei stood very still. "What's wrong?"

With a calm far more terrifying than rage, Hiei raised his head. "This isn't my Rosary."

Issei slowly flexed his numbed shoulders, stalling. "How do you know it's not?"

"Mine's handmade. Many of the beads are slightly differing sizes, something that would escape the casual observer. Some have been drilled off-center. Look." Hiei thrust the beads up into Issei's face; Issei flinched. "See the fourth Our Father bead? Strung perfectly straight."

"I don't understand what that---"

"This Rosary was machine-made. Every bead the same size, every one drilled straight through the center, every one perfectly aligned."

"Oh?" Issei tried to rub life back into his tingling ankles. The fluorescent light made his hands look greenish-pale and sickly. "But how did you know before you examined---"

"Let's just say I know. And so does the enemy."

Issei's mouth felt like cotton. "Know what?"

"For one, a Rosary's just a string of beads until it's blessed by a priest. Then it becomes a weapon."

"And---for another?"

"For another, the light."

"The light?" Issei said blankly.

"The very fact that you have to ask means you can't see it." Hiei raked the room with an impatient glance. "I want that Rosary back. It was a gift from Shay-san, and it was given to her by her uncle who---well. The odds will never get any better than this. Let's go."

Issei remained in the middle of the room, watching Hiei prowl. "Where?"

"To get my Rosary." Hiei stood before the heavy door, tried its metal handle, then shook his head. "Not this way, though. In my condition, I'd never---"

"I didn't realize."

The set of Hiei's shoulders changed, subtly. Afterward, Issei supposed that he should have been prepared for what happened next as well.

The attack was so quick that Issei never saw it coming. Hiei slammed him to the far wall, one hand clenched around his throat. Issei thought, crazily: His bandages will come loose.

Powerful fingers dug into his windpipe, and then Ueda Issei did fight, with every trick he had up his karate-trained sleeve, and a few he didn't, punching, clawing, kicking. He struck with the chains, kneed Hiei in the groin, but his blows had as much effect as the flutter of insect wings. Hiei simply tightened his fingers around Issei's throat.

Issei was blacking out. He could tell; the Agency tested their operatives to their very limits. Sliding down the wall, Issei gagged, coughed, sought desperately for air, but the hand around his throat was like another shackle.

"You took the Rosary, didn't you."

Issei gave a single curt nod.

"Tell me one thing, before I snap your neck. How long have you been working for the enemy?"

"Never," Issei rasped. Hiei's grip slackened, just enough for Issei to draw another painful breath. "No... choice... they'd have... killed me. Mission... scrapped!"

Hiei let go. Issei slid to the floor, coughing.

And then Hiei was hauling him to his feet, surprisingly careful to touch only his arms, not his raw, cuffed wrists. "They could have killed you anyway. No idea why they didn't."

"I--didn't realize," Issei gasped. "They never said it was a weapon. I thought it was just beads. Harmless beads."

"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that," retorted Hiei. He still sounded angry, but not murderous. And he had one or two more bloodied bruises, courtesy of his own man. "I know one thing. You're no Urameshi Yuusuke."

"A high school delinquent? You got that right."

"Urameshi's only the toughest bastard I ever met."

Issei adjusted his jacket, tucking in the tatters of his shirttails. He shut his eyes. His tattered image would not be so easily repaired.

Even with eyes closed, Issei could see it: Hiei, falling to the floor like a bloodied sack of grain. The monsters advancing. Four-Arms scooping up the Walther PPK, dropping it into Eight-Eyes' grip. Eight-Eyes gloating at him, aiming: "With all these peepers ain't no way I'm gonna miss." Gray Suit adding, "If you would be so kind as to remove your friend's necklace and place it on the floor."

Issei, bending to the task, noting with relief that Hiei was still breathing.

Four-Arms shoving an identical string of beads into Issei's bewildered hands, Gray Suit instructing, "Now just slip this one on in its place."

Completing the task, then struck from behind.

Or so he'd gathered, judging from the tender lump on the back of his head. Issei opened his eyes. Hiei prowled the perimieter of the room, then again tested the door.

"Stupid door," he muttered.

Issei licked dry lips. They were in dire straits, Hiei injured, himself unarmed, the mission badly compromised.

Was it merely that Issei needed to complete the mission as a good operative would, or---had he shown the worst kind of cowardice in removing what he'd assumed to be a useless string of beads from his unconscious partner? Either way, the outcome was imprisonment, the outlook grim.

"I didn't know," he repeated, to Hiei's back.

"Know what?"

"About the power of the Rosary." He took a step closer. "That removing it would---"

"Now you do." Whirling, Hiei balled up the substitute Rosary and stuffed it into Issei's pocket.

"What's that for?"

"Souvenir. In case we make it out alive."

"Thanks."

Hiei looked at the floor. "Sorry." He sighed. "And I don't have any Holy Water to offer you for that cough."

"That's okay. I had tea before." Issei tested the locked door himself, then returned to Hiei. "You knew it wasn't your Rosary even before you looked at that Our Father bead. How?"

"By touch." Hiei lifted his head, met Issei's gaze, and some expression too quick to measure flicked across his eyes. "A Rosary blessed by a priest will burn."

"But I touched your Rosary. I took it off you, placed it on the floor. It didn't burn me."

"You're human," explained Hiei.

And you're... What? Issei's mind refused to wrap itself around the implication. He did not want to understand what Hiei meant.

"But I've got good news," Hiei went on.

Issei let his raised eyebrows ask the question.

"Your man's alive."

(To be continued: The way out isn't always in a straight line.)

-30-