AN: Of course Raizo gets weapons, he's a ninja. But ninja were also used for espionage, meaning spy stuff. Yay. Mika's got a 007 complex of some sort, she goes for those spy-guy types without realizing it. So, what ninja is complete without some crazy person making weapons for them (either the nice classic weapons, or some kind of fucked up shuriken gun, which no, I'm not going to do...), and what spy movie is complete without a Q harping about gadgets?
Since Raizo is both killer and sometime spy, he needs gadgets. Like the master key one that disarms car doors and alarms and starts them up. Now, who makes those gadgets? You got it, a gadget guy. I'm not sure if I'm going to like Stanislov, but so far he's like a mix between the Engineer from Simon R. Green's Eddie Drood books, Lord Nikon and the Matt Lillard character 'Cereal Killer' from Hackers. Back then, Matt Lillard was so weirdo cute to my fifteen year old self. Now, he just looks old... sigh gravity takes it's toll.
Also I have found up to chapter 20 on this, yay for portable harddrives, but I'm currently active in another fandom at the moment and rather heavily into it. I have some stuff to finish for the Dragon Age stories (two or three shorts and I want at to get at least a few more chapters of A Murder of Crows for that fandom finished) before I'll have time to really look over all of this. But ya'll have been so patient, and I've got so many reviews for it (as well as faves and alerts... holy poop, way more per chapter than almost any other fandom I've been party to) that to leave ya'll just hanging all the time... isn't fair.
Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own fubars.
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Wake Up 15
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"Stanislov," bypassing the trips, traps, and sensors, Raizo waited in shadow, calling out to the technophile.
Young, pasty, but healthy looking otherwise, shoulder length dirty blond hair flew as the youth jumped, "Who's there?" A hand went to the gun that sat beside his elbow, "Where are you?"
Raizo stepped out, relaxed, "Stanislov, I need one of your computers."
"Raizo, you have got to quit doing that man," an exaggeratedly American accent, learned from too many movies, "I was about to put one in you." He stopped, having noticed what Raizo said, "What happened to the last one?"
"Broke," shrugging, Raizo came around the table, sparing a glance to some of the circuitry that was currently being dismantled.
"Broke, broke? You broke Annabell?" unfolding his spidery-surfer frame, arms waving, "How'd you break her? Where is she? Did you at least bring her back to Papa for a proper burial?"
Arms crossed, Raizo just looked at him, "Against someone's head. And I did not have time to retrieve the remnants."
Moaning, he flopped back into his chair, arms and legs splayed, "Ohhh my poor Annabell! And now you want one of her sisters? That's gonna cost ya man."
Bringing his messenger bag forward, Raizo dipped in, pulling out a roll of cash, "Desktop not laptop. Satellite capable. Whatever sorts of ISP address blockers that are most current."
"Oh you want a beast huh? Alrighty then," perking up, Stanislov ignored the money, scooting the chair along on it's wheels, "I can manage that. Snappity snap. Gimme three days, I've got a backlog of gizmos goin' and then you'll get Annabell's big brother."
Something incomprehensible that involved chocolate spread, cereal and half a cup of sugar was done, and Stanislov began consuming it at an alarming rate, "You should eat actual food. That, is pure sugar."
The youth could be considered a regular contact, always reliable so long as quantities of money were involved and electronics. In the streets a few years ago, Raizo had stumbled upon him being beaten for no clear reason by one of his targets. When the deed was done, his target dead, Stanislov had been barely alive. Raizo had debated killing the then late teens boy, but decided not to, as he had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And from there a strange acquaintance had formed. Still new to the world outside the Ozunu, Raizo had never used a computer before, nor saw the reason for them. It was a notion that Stanislov had worked hard to disabuse Raizo of.
"Yeah, sugar, simple carbs amigo, so my body doesn't hafta break 'em down, get me man?" wolfing the bowl down, not bothering with milk except to drink from the jug. "The four basic food groups of the Stan-Man, sugar, sugar, Coke, and cheese puffs."
About to leave, satisfied that the computer for Mika would be acceptable, he stopped, "The computer is for a companion."
That grabbed Stanislov's attention, "You work solo, like the Mariachi I thought."
"She will be looking into some," searching for the correct word, "deeply hidden information and trails. They have much security guarding the data. Make sure the computer is capable of covering itself. Whatever software you think is best, install."
"For the next target? I'm hurt," standing for a stretch, "I thought I was your go-to guy." Then he laughed, "I bet she's hot, but that doesn't mean you should let her play in the big boys yard."
Defending Mika, "She knows what she's doing."
Stanislov 'hmphed', "This I have got to see. Can I meet her? Do a little 'meet and greet' of the fellow mind?"
"I'll think about it," letting himself out of the house.
That taken care of, Raizo turned his feet in the direction of Gabek's region of Prague. Halfway there someone began following him. Good, Raizo had thought that it was about time for this to come. Casually he slipped a hand inside his jacket, checking his chain dagger's ties. A populated street wasn't the place he wished to have this confrontation, so in preparation, Raizo pulled a needle from their hiding spot in his belt buckle, and dipped it into one of the reservoirs that held various toxins secreted in the clasp. All it looked like he had been doing was normal gestures, regular body language compared to those walking along, ignorant of his presence.
Ahead there would be tightly wound streets, narrow alleys, that would open into plazas teeming with pedestrians and tourists. If the person following him didn't attack in one of the side alleys, Raizo could dispatch him or her with a prick after blending with the flow of foot traffic. Meandering, taking his time through a particularly dim, and empty alleyway, Raizo felt the prickle of warning as footsteps slowed behind him.
They resumed and Raizo dropped the needle as not needed, now was as good a time as any. In a rapid flash he spun on his heel, chain dagger falling into his waiting hand with usual speed. And like that a gun went off, the silencer muffling the noise. Metal slithered through Raizo's palms, twisting as he twirled the chain, the heavy dagger at the end providing the heft necessary for good aim. The assailant wasn't prepared beyond the first shot, and Raizo took advantage of the surprise on the man's face, flinging the dagger into his chest, while flipping forward to wrap the chain around his neck, finishing him with a grunt.
Blood shot out of the mortal wound, and the man's body didn't even thrash, the broken neck ensuring no sound and no further movement. Carefully Raizo bent down, retrieving his dagger, making sure that none of the mess got on his clothes. Hadn't Yuri's gang learned not to send a man with a gun after him after all these years? Yuri was still a thorn in his side, and Raizo probably should do something about it, but it was better to have the devil you knew how to anticipate rather than a replacement enemy who's moves you didn't know.
Wiping down the dagger Raizo replaced it in it's spot, and continued to Gabek's. Raizo would need to gain more funds to be sure he had a sufficient cushion, and it was never a good idea to remain unaware of the current lay of the land. Gabek was a source for both information and work, a friendly looking man, who appeared to be best suited to being someone's father than master of a Russian cell of gang interlopers. Czechnian mafias didn't take kindly to Gabek's presence, but so far had been unable to dislodge him, the backing he received from Moscow's syndicates too powerful to risk angering them by declaring outright war.
A nondescript bakery stood on a corner, whitewashed brick, with a cheery green awning advertising itself as 'Olde World Bread'. Pushing the red door open, the little brass bell heralding his presence. There was a woman at the counter, the glass case stuffed with all manner of pastry, and the smell of baking bread filled the air with warm yeasty comfort. But under it, Raizo could still catch the tang of blood and bodily excretions.
He knew better than to eat anything with mincemeat in it.
"What can I get for you?"
Usually Raizo wouldn't even look at what was on offer, he wasn't interested in any of it. But Mika may like something sweet, she could probably use it, "That," pointing to something with glazed fruit, slathered in honey, "And to speak with Gabek. Tell him his shadow's here."
The woman nodded her understanding, and thrust the pastry at him, "Yes sir." She disappeared into the back, then came out a few moments later, "He'll see you now."
"Alois said you may be stopping by," shirtsleeves rolled up, sweat shining on his face, wrist deep in dough, "you've been gone a long time Langdon. Five months, and in Berlin no less. Been hanging around some Euro-pol agents."
"Old family business," standing well back, while Gabek cut off a ball of dough and slapped it back and forth in his hands, a light dust of flour filling the air. "It's done now."
Gabek was silent but for his grunts while he pounded the dough. Raizo could imagine Gabek doing the same to a person's face easily enough. It was probably why he did it.
Stopping his work, wiping hands on his white apron, "So I take you want some work then."
"Close by, nothing far," agreeing.
"Nothing much has been going on inside Prague lately, but I'll see what I can come up with," a clear dismissal.
Nodding once, "I'll check back later then."