Breakdown

Chapter 21: Assassins Part 2

Abyssinian

Ran was livid, tense, and liable to explode. Not only had Schwartz once again beaten his team to their target and stayed to gloat about it, but the Oracle had just now reminded him of his incredible stupidity a few nights previous when he had revealed his true name to him.

"What's the matter, Ran?" Crawford purred. "You're shaking. You aren't nervous around me, are you?" He turned his gaze from the window and up to meet Ran's, the amusement in his eyes only intensifying. "You shouldn't be. Not after we were so close that night."

As much as he tried, Ran couldn't stop his body from trembling with rage. "Schwartz," he growled as he raised and swung his sword down at his enemy's head. Crawford easily blocked the strike and pushed against him as he stood up, forcing Ran back a few paces.

"Oracle, actually," the American corrected him with a slight grin. "Why do you Weiss Kittens always have to address us individually as Schwartz? We each have singular codenames, Ran."

The redhead's eyes flared. "Stop calling me Ran!" he shouted and attacked again, meeting nothing but the cold steel of Crawford's blade.

The American chuckled. "But you asked me to call you that."

"Well stop," Ran snapped, pushing against Crawford's sword, which gave very little despite the force he exerted. The American was still stronger than him.

"What are you still doing here anyway?" he demanded, seeing the lifeless body of the man he had come to kill, propped up against the side of the desk.
"I am taking care of business. What else?" Crawford answered simply

"He was mine," Ran intoned angrily, having looked forward to taking out the target since Manx had brought his team the mission. He had desperately needed to blow off steam, and since Yohji had been making himself scarce since their altercation in the storeroom, an evil sonuvabitch would have been the next best choice.

Ran drew his sword back for another strike, but Crawford met his blade with his own and kicked out at the redhead's legs, narrowly missing him as he Ran jumped back to avoid the blow. "By all means," he said, "Have him. I have no business with him."

"Of course you don't anymore. You killed him." Ran lunged. Crawford parried and struck back to knock the redhead's sword away as he reached out to grab his coat, yanking him forward.

"Only so I could have his office for my personal business." He leaned down, whispering in the redhead's ear. Ran couldn't help giving a soft shudder, but immediately jerked back, holding his sword in defense in front of him.

"What are you talking about?" His grip tightened on the hilt.

Crawford adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and smirked. "Isn't it obvious? My business is all about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Come now, Ran—Excuse me, Abyssinian. You aren't your blond companion. You shouldn't be acting so thick. You can understand a simple statement, can't you? I'm here for you."

Ran's eyes narrowed, registering the comment the only way he knew how, as a threat. He bared his teeth and readied his sword. "You won't kill me, Oracle. Come and get me."

There was a predatory gleam in his eye as Crawford smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

Something in his tone and gaze made Ran's heart beat faster, though he understood the change in pulse as purely an influx of adrenaline. His heart rate continued to rise as Crawford rushed him and forced him back towards the other end of the office. Realizing that he would soon have his back to the wall, Ran quickly switched to the offensive and had no trouble pressing forward, which made the redhead begin to wonder if Crawford was letting him get the upper hand. It wasn't until Ran had come close enough for the American to make a grab at him that he understood why, but he was quick enough with his sword and he managed to slice the Oracle's wrist before he could get a hold of his neck. No way was he letting himself be choked to death.

Ran felt his communicator get tugged from of his ear as Crawford hissed and pulled his hand back, but it didn't bother him. His opponent was bleeding and he smirked. "You're wounded. You should give up," he said, watching the blood absorb into the white fabric of Crawford's jacket.

The American, however, didn't seem bothered at all by the wound and he smiled at the redhead. "It's a small price to pay for not being interrupted." He held up the broken ear piece of Ran's communicator before tossing it across the room. Ran's eyes went wide, realizing that it had all been planned, the cut off of communication to his team.

Crawford took advantage of his shock and attacked him again, slamming his sword against Ran's to send a painful vibration along the shaft and to his wrist. The redhead gritted his teeth and tried admirably to regain the upper hand, but even with a two-hand advantage, Crawford still managed to disarm him.

Ran's weapon had barely struck the carpet before he was already diving for it. That was when a shot was fired, a warning, directly between his hand and his sword. The Weiss assassin pulled his hand back and glared up at the enemy. Schwartz could never fight fair. Somehow there was always a gun.

Crawford kept his weapon leveled on the redhead as he walked over and picked up the kattana. "Be a good kitten now, Abyssinian. We were getting along so well a few nights ago. What's changed?"

'Alcohol,' Ran thought, but didn't say. "Nothing," he growled instead, "We were enemies then, and we are enemies now."

"Enemies with some understanding of each other."

"I don't understand you." Ran countered and Crawford grinned.

"I could have killed you then, but I didn't, you know."

"Your mistake."

A soft snort. "You didn't kill me either," Crawford added.

Ran narrowed his eyes. His mistake. And he had to live with it. And he was also getting tired of the all the chit chat. What the hell did the Oracle want with him?

He moved to get up and was surprised that Crawford let him. The American even put his gun away and set the blades down on the desk. To Ran, it was a very idiotic move. Crawford had definitely had the upper hand, and now they were both unarmed…mostly. As long as Crawford wasn't that quick of a draw.

Was this supposed to be a truce or some kind of trick? Ran couldn't be sure. And he watched the dark-haired man warily for a few minutes before taking a chance and going for his sword.

His wrists were grabbed and pinned together before he even had a chance to register the movement. Crawford held his arms above his head and pulled him to stand in front of him. "You're so predictable sometimes, Ran."

The redhead growled at the use of the name, and because he was more or less helpless. More or less. Crawford could only hold him with one hand since Ran had sliced his other wrist, so maybe if he wriggled enough, he could break free.

The American chuckled and wrapped his other hand around the assassin's wrists, squeezing them together and making him wince. "Don't get excited. The cut isn't so deep and I can withstand the pain."

"What do you want, Oracle?" Ran grimaced as pressure was put on his wrists again, and he was pushed back against the side of the desk, pinned nicely in place by Crawford's own body. Ran flushed, and his glare faltered as Crawford leaned forward, getting close enough for Ran to smell his cologne. It quickly brought back memories of the bar. Memories he desperately wanted to forget.

In the meantime, all he could do was turn his face to the side and hold his breath, which made Crawford chuckle. Ran repeated the question in a strained voice, but the American still didn't answer. Instead he undid the collar of Ran's jacket with one hand and began to nuzzle his neck. The redhead's eyes widened and he once again struggled to break free, feeling his face heat up. Crawford bit his neck in warning and Ran tensed and took a sharp intake of breath.

"Stop…" He hissed, moving his chin down to try and cover his neck, but the dark-haired man held it out of the way, nipping his jaw.

"Stop what, Ran?" Crawford cooed softly, clearly amused by the redhead's soft panting.

"Stop THIS!" Ran growled, almost having to force out the words.

"I'm afraid you're not being specific enough."

"St-mmph." Ran's protest was muffled by a pair of soft lips.

Bombay

"Siberian! Report! What's going on?" The blond hacker shouted into his communicator, panicked face lit up by the glow of his laptop. It was so difficult being stuck on the outside, dealing with security systems via his computer, while his friends needed him on the inside. The worst of it was he didn't know where his entire team was. Ran had stopped communicating once he'd spotted the target's office and gone in for the kill. Omi had no idea if he was alright. He desperately hoped it was just a dead communicator. He didn't want to think about what the other option could be.

"Bombay! Need help!" Ken's strained voice came over the feed. It was obvious he was having one hell of a time fending off Schwartz. Omi then listened to him shouting for Ran, and his worry for his teammates only increased. According to Ken, Yohji was already down for the count and since Ran wasn't responding, maybe that meant he was out of the picture too. Either way, Weiss needed to get out of there and fast before Omi lost all his team members.

"I'm coming to help, Siberian. I'll create a diversion so you can get Balinese out of there."

Omi listened to a lot of grunts and struggling before Ken said anything. "Abyssinian," he heard his teammate say.

The blond bit his lip. "I don't know where he is. He's not answering, but I'll find him. Just get Balinese out."

"No Bombay. Abyssinian's here. And Schwartz is moving out."

The teen blinked, "Is he okay?"

"Fine. I guess." Ken said between his panting. "We'll see you in a bit, Bombay."

"Right."

Siberian

The ex-soccer player stared at his red-headed teammate. His hair was tussled, his clothes were mussed and there was blood dripping from his lip. Ken was glad to see that he and Yohji hadn't been the only ones to see some action, but at the same time he was also a little annoyed that he himself looked like he'd been put through the ringer, and Ran just looked like he'd come from a heated make-out session. If only Ran had gotten to play with Berserker and Mastermind instead of him.

"You get the bastard?" he asked Ran, forcing back a jealous scowl as he went over to pick up Balinese, grunting with the effort. Not only was he tired, but Yohji was one hell of a dead weight when he was unconscious.

Ran only nodded and helped Ken by hooking Yohji's other arm around his neck. Together they walked their friend out and deposited him in the passenger seat of Ran's white Porsche.

"Take him to get looked at," Ken said, "Me and Bombay'll head home and start the report."

Again all he got was a nod and it bothered Ken. Ran never said much, but as their leader, he at least gave orders. Ken expected something more than a head shake, especially after a hectic mission like this one had been.

He put a hand on the driver's side door after Ran had gotten behind the wheel. "You okay?"

"Fine," Ran finally managed, his voice gravelly. Ken decided to chalk it down to the battle he must have been in, though at the same time it conjured up images that wouldn't be so out of place in Yohji's mind. He shook his head and removed his hand from the car after a quick scowl from his leader, stepping back so Ran could pull out.

"…see you later." Ken said weakly, and waved off the exhaust as Ran peeled out.

If nothing else came from this mission, it would at least make an interesting report.