AN: I have always capitalized LAMDA because I assume it is an anagram. I could be wrong.
The cataclysmic meeting between Kurz and Gauron, which Kaname's misery-altered brain was almost looking forward to, was not quite as quick and explosive as it could have been. She was almost taken down a peg at that, too.
The big problem was that Kurz had never actually met the other man; combat was one thing, but there was a very impersonal quality to combat in an Arm Slave. So when he came sweeping into Kurz's quarters with Kaname at his heels, there was a moment where the myth and the man didn't completely reconcile.
It was no wonder; the shot in his dossier was a picture of a man who belonged in the world of business and marketing, clean-shaven and immaculate in a nice suit. It hardly looked like a mug shot. The man in the doorway now had a three-day stubble, longer hair that might now qualify as unkempt, and a frumpy grey windbreaker that made him look like – well, a janitor. So once Kurz realized that this wasn't a complimentary clean-up or anything of the sort – it might have been safe to say he hit the fan. But before that, there was confusion.
"Kaname?" he said slowly. "What are you – wait. Who are you?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "Um."
A hand was extended amiably. "Weber. Nice to meet you," Gauron said with decided cheer. "I admire your work."
Kurz's face was blank for another moment. "Um." Watching him place that unmistakable voice was like watching a computer download a big file, ten percent at a time. It started slow, but comprehension tightened his face noticeably. "Who are you?" he repeated.
"Oh, did it all mean so little? We've exchanged near-death experiences with each other, Sergeant," was the very smug reply. He did enjoy himself. "I had assumed you enjoyed it, too."
That was when the gun came out, and with an unusual lack of resistance, the gun was shoved in his face. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Kurz snarled.
"Just talking."
"My best friend is dead," he said coldly. "I don't know how he died, I don't know why it happened, but I plan on finding out. And if your name comes up anywhere – if I find out that you had anything to do with it – then I'll book your ass into hell, and I'll take my time doing it." He swallowed. "So talk fast. Understand?"
"He's not dead," he replied immediately.
The gun wavered. "You're lying."
"If you're under the impression that I only came to exchange pleasantries with you, then you sorely overestimate your general appeal," he informed the younger man viciously. "I don't actually think you can walk and chew gum at the same time, to be perfectly honest. But I think that if you were offered a chance to find Kashim alive, you might make considerable effort in that direction."
"Alive?" Kurz repeated stupidly.
"You heard me," he murmured. "Alive."
"That's not possible," he said flatly. "His body was positively identified when Mithril –"
"When Mithril dredged up the wreck of a North Korean steamer," Gauron finished. "They were looking for evidence that the kids up in Korea have begun to develop a more advanced nuclear shield that would tip the scales in their favor. If they have something that will protect the whole country from being blown off the face of the planet – well, wouldn't that make global domination look a little more feasible?"
At Kurz's slightly dazed look, Kaname stepped in for him and cleared her throat. "I don't follow."
"I'm sorry – I'll use smaller words. There's only one reason the North Koreans have been sitting on their nuclear hands rather than using them. They know that if they strike, someone is bound to strike back, and since the country could be completely annihilated with one big bomb, they really can't afford to do that. But someone happened across a fourteen-year-old boy in Pyongyang who was writing out the same strange physics equation on every flat surface he could doodle on. He underwent the proper tests to determine if he was a Whispered, like Miss Junior Class over here, but unlike her, he actually completed them. The things he was writing out were the mathematic blueprints to a shield – force field, if you will," he continued. "Powerful enough to withstand an attack from… well, maybe an Arm Slave equipped with a LAMDA driver. Or a really big bomb."
Kurz looked considerably unsettled, but withdrew his weapon almost two feet. "You're a lying sack of shit," he snapped. "You're a sick fucking sadist, and if I find out you're lying to me, today, I will hunt you down and kill you slowly."
Gauron had a grin that bespoke Trouble. "That's more like it. I could be wrong about you, kiddo – probably not, and I'll probably end up killing you eventually, too, but I can give credit where it's due. I like your attitude."
"Just keep talking." Kurz sounded a little strangled. Kaname had taken note of the drawn weapon and thought it best not to draw attention to herself.
"Thank you. My point is, no one on the damn planet needs those guys to find a way out of annihilation, even if destruction is mutually assured. I have several reasons why I can't afford for the North Koreans to have that kind of shit, and a few of them are financial. Mithril had its own self-serving reasons, don't worry," he added. "Whatever they were, they needed someone with no real civilian or military history about him that can be found. Lots of people in that country don't exist on paper, so he wasn't unique. His ability to remain faceless makes him an invaluable spy and double-agent. Of course they chose him. But he's not undercover anymore. He's locked up in one of their military hospitals in the jungle."
"And how do you know all this?" the younger man shot back. "You seem to have a lot of inside info on all this – enough that you might be involved somehow."
"Ah, the accusation resurfaces. Was I involved in the plot to take Kashim down… no. I've been as in the dark as you've been for the last few months. I was able to track him for about a month after he severed contact with Mithril, which I assume is more than can be said of you. But once he'd made his way into their nuclear program, even I knew I couldn't afford to keep tabs on him anymore," Gauron clarified. "The North Koreans allowed him into the program as some sort of expert – under what guise, I'm not sure, but they were so far up his ass constantly… they don't even trust their own operatives. I couldn't keep an eye on him from a distance, let alone get any closer without sending up red flags. So I backed off. I was tight on cash anyways, and there were jobs out there that actually paid, so I got one of those for awhile. Kashim is a big boy; he doesn't need me hovering all the time."
"You expect me to believe that?" Kurz scoffed. "You were covering him, instead of… I don't know, setting him up? Selling him out to the North Koreans?"
"The term I was looking for was glorified babysitting," he said mildly. "Kashim has one quality that the North Koreans haven't counted on. He just won't die – and trust me, I would know."
"So you think he's escaped the country?" the sniper suggested with healthy mistrust. "I'm not sure where your story is going."
"That's because I'm in the middle of it." When he was greeted with silence, he continued. "Thank you. I've done my homework this week, and here's what you need to know. No, I don't think he's escaped the country. I think his cover was blown and he's under lock and key, otherwise he would have reported back as soon as he was out. I might even know where he's being held – or let's just say I do know. Don't even bother looking, because I found him already. That won't make this any easier."
"This?" Kurz repeated blankly. "What exactly is 'this'?"
"This," he said cattily, "is getting him out of a detention facility. I don't have a whole lot of time, so forgive me if I'm brief: Kashim isn't dead. But if you don't make a lot of things happen in the next few days, he's going to be, and I'm going to hold you personally accountable for it."
Blue eyes narrowed. "You trying to intimidate me?"
He seemed to think about it. "Yeah, you could say that. You could also say that I'm threatening you."
Kurz's jaw tightened. "Right."
"And you could also say that it's in your best interest to be intimidated," he added.
They eyed each other warily for a moment. Kaname did her best impression of a doorframe she could manage. Finally, Gauron extended a folded piece of paper. "If you're up to it, that's the when and where. I'll see you if you show up."
Kaname jumped out of the way as he turned to slip out the door. "You're just leaving?" she choked, scrambling away from him.
He spared her a glance. "Damn right I am. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
She turned to Kurz. "Are you just going to let him leave?"
He shrugged. "Sousuke's dead. What can he do to me?"
Me. It wasn't a word she heard him use like that very often.
"Get out of here," he spat at the older man. "Just get the fuck out. Don't you get it? He's dead. You can't fuck with him. You can't torture him anymore." He holstered his gun and turned away sharply. "And the next time I see you, I'm going to kill you." He did not take the offered slip of paper.
Blatantly obnoxious, Gauron swept out of the room and stuffed it down Kaname's shirt. "Don't lose that."
Silence.
Then,
"THAT'S ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING, YOU NASTY PERVERT!"