Yami sat on the small stool while he steadily got dressed in full gear.

He kept telling himself he wasn't undoing healing as he slid his feet into the reinforced socks and then laced the boots up, the familiar actions bringing a strange comfort.

With the extra hours before the meet up, he had used it to re-organize and unpack some old gear he thought he had put away for good. Maybe it was a naive thought that he could ever fully retire.

As long as people knew he existed and was alive, near someone as prominent as Seto, he could never rest easy.

He had wiped Mokuba's car down and dismantled the doors, reinforcing the hollow areas with ballistic foam. The scent was awful, and Yami had to prop up a fan to air it out while he left the car parked right by the mouth of the storage unit.

A cool night breeze was helping.

He patted moisturizer on his cheeks and then slid the face sock on over his head, making sure to cram every single strand of spiky bangs into the folds. Glancing in the acrylic mirror he had hanging on the wall above the racks of guns, he stuffed the base of the headwrap into the collar of his undershirt, slipping the armored chestplate on over it and then a puffy bomber jacket that fit snugly around his shoulders, making him look oddly square-like.

Patting the air out of the sleeves, Yami slipped a pair of gloves on and clipped two belts around his waist, thinking his body felt light.

All the physical therapy helped.

After some light stretching, he was good to go.

It was almost as if the physical therapy had helped him prepare for…this.

He was limber and felt springier than ever when he strapped two small pistols to his hips and grabbed one briefcase off the rack.

Then he lifted the helmet off the hook and moved to put it all in the car.

Over-geared and ready to show up.

Nope. One last thing.

He grabbed a screwdriver and unscrewed the license plate. On second thought, he took up a spray can of glossy paint primer and gave the entire plate a few passes.

The wind carried the heavy scent of paint away, and Yami blasted the shiny surface a few more times before he leaned back and waited for it to dry, raising his wrist to glance at the watch, thinking it was the most perfect gift he had received in a while.

This was why he left the mansion at 10.
So he could have 4 hours to prep for shit he would think of at the last minute.

Four minutes passed fast.

He picked up the license plate and screwed it back on.

There. Makeshift scan-proof.

He rolled the door of the storage unit down and locked it with an electronic beep.

Hopefully this was enough.

Yami arrived at the dark site after parking the car under an overpass and walking a few kilometers up the deserted dirt path.

The meeting was held at an abandoned synthetic gas manufacturing plant. Plenty of cover was available if bullets started flying at the meetup, and it was secluded enough that if something did blow up, it wouldn't attract the authorities until they were long gone.

The helmet was making him sweat, and he could hear his own breaths being filtered out as he exhaled, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was walking into a trap.

It felt like it.

If he wanted to get rid of high-profile killers, all he had to do was lure them to a remote site and detonate.

"Show up, get paid"?
No.
Show up, get killed.

Yami turned on his heel and circled the fence, hating that the nearest cover was a few yards back, behind a lone tree. That would have to do.

Walking away from the towering shadows behind him, Yami hastily unsheathed the knife from his ankle holster to help him climb up.

The bark scraped roughly on his gloves but he scaled the trunk easily and sat atop the second-lowest branch, allowing some cover underneath his feet while he waited, sitting on the thick branch.

It swayed in the wind, and he saw headlights come up the hill.

This was why he needed to arrive at least an hour and a half before the meeting time.
He needed to see who would show up first and how they acted.

To his rising annoyance, it was a black minivan with a landscaping logo on the side, and jet-black tinted windows. Yami huffed to himself, biting back a laugh.

'No amateur shit' was the top requirement and this obvious van right here…was amateur shit.

He wouldn't let this van affect his judgment of his opponents. If anything, their vain carelessness might lead to more death, which was worse than if they were experienced and had planned for deaths.
Scary.

The van parked right under the tree, and Yami stared incredulously at the thick antennae sticking straight up from the roof. That… was not a normal signal receiver.

This might be a surveillance van.

Oscar-Odion is either paranoid, or the police are on this already, Yami thought hopefully as he did his best not to move from his spot.

Well, now the issue would be getting down from the tree, unnoticed.

The doors to the van slid open, and he could see two heads, and heard voices inside.

"...You go in and tag the boxes…"

"Make him do it! He's going in already…!"

A third head appeared, sitting on the van's lower step in full gear, and Yami's stomach twisted.
Not the police.

Amateur shit.

The heavily armored man had an automatic rifle strapped to his back, and Yami rolled his eyes. He was leaving if this was the caliber of 'operatives' storming the Kaiba Dome.
They wouldn't make it past the parking garage like this.

The doors of the van remained open, and Yami decided he needed a peek.

He carefully lowered himself to swing upside down by his legs on the branch, feeling his chest plate shift over his shoulders, hitting the bottom of his chin against his helmet while he got a good glimpse inside the van through the thin leaves.

An array of laptops was propped up inside, connected to two dark screens mounted against the tinted windows, the lights from all the receivers blinking ominously.

It was a surveillance van for sure.

The two men were wearing black, collared shirts with a small logo on the chest, and Yami squinted at it, trying to read it in the semi-darkness.

Slowly lifting his hand up to touch the night-vision binoculars strapped to the top of his helmet, he quietly lowered it and got a better view.

"Min's Ladder Co." was the tiny embroidery.

Please. As if.

Lifting the binoculars, Yami listened to the blood pounding in his ears as eavesdropped.

"...tell HQ we're here."

"Already did. Okay, our cuttlefish is getting in position."

The heavily armored man who was sitting on the lower step of the van patted his chest and stood up, the gleam of his helmet inky black as he raised his head to look up into the trees, and Yami blinked, acting fast as his heart buzzed with low, fearful hum as he drew the pistol he had against his hip and aimed it right at the man's forehead.

The full-armored man held his hands up defensively, opening and closing his fist, and Yami hissed under his breath. That was a signal! There was something in his palm!
He was fucked–
If the other two came out armed, he was fucked.
3 against 1, he might have to run….outrun the van somehow while under fire.
Shit, fuck shit.
His arms were numb as he kept the gun aimed at the helmeted man.

The two heads poked out of the van, and he was met with fearful faces.

"Oh… Shit," the glasses-wearing man whispered, his face drained of color. His co-worker let out a strangled gurgle and stared at the barrel of the gun from the man hanging upside down in the tree above, breaking out into a cold sweat.
Caught, not 10 minutes on-location.

This was going down in the rookie-booklet of rookie-ass mistakes.

Yami didn't move.

The three men didn't move, and finally, the glasses-wearing man spoke up first, carefully inching his foot out of the van as he held his hands up defensively over his head, whispering, "Please don't kill us! ….We can pay you! More than what was listed!"

Yami huffed under his breath and didn't move. He didn't wantmoney. Fools.

Who were they?! Police?!

He shook his head once and didn't move.

He would assume all the worst now. He was being recorded and this interaction might be sent to law enforcement, if they were law enforcement.

"I-I am…Agent …H-Haga," the yellow, horn-rimmed glasses man said shakily, reaching slowly into his back pocket to flip open his ID to show an insignia Yami was vaguely familiar with. "And this is my f-friend, Agent Ryuzaki…" He reached over to slowly pat his beanie-wearing co-worker on the shoulder, and the man continued to gape at him. "Can we please get along? …Are you…Oscar? Can we make a deal?"

Police, and idiotic ones, Yami bit the inside of his cheek and didn't lower his weapon. He wanted to hear the deal first, so he nodded, slowly, once.

To his extreme annoyance, the agent with the ugly glasses turned his head to speak obviously into a com pinned under his collar while he still had his hands over his head, so he was talking awkwardly at his own shoulder, "HQ, we have Oscar in front of us right now…1 hour before rendezvous…"

I should've known they were cops. Talking to 'HQ', Yami growled to himself, taking one hand away from his weapon to draw a line across his throat and shaking his head. Not Oscar.

The heavily-armored man kept staring at him, and Yami wondered why that man didn't draw his weapon to aim it at him. Probably because it was a Japanese official underneath there and they were trained not to pull their weapons until the very last second.
As expected.

"One moment, he's communicating," Agent Haga nodded at the heavily-armed individual hanging upside down from the tree in front of them. "...I'm listening."

Yami blinked rapidly and thought fast. He didn't want to speak. They could voice-match him with Seto's advanced technology, which he helped develop, dammit.

Sheathing his pistol, Yami folded his arms across his chest briefly before raising his hands to use sign language, choosing English as the base vernacular and quickly spelling out, "I…am…not…OSCAR," with his gloved hands.

To his surprise, the full-armor individual signed back, "understood. I will translate."

And the man turned to speak through his helmet in Japanese, "...Says he is not 'Oscar'."

There was a stunned silence before the agent with glasses quickly pushed for a reply, "ask him who he is if he's comfortable with disclosing it, and…will he work with us to take down Oscar for double the pay? All wire, and we can keep paying him…for future jobs if he's willing! Ask! Ask!"

The helmeted individual gave the agent a middle finger and then turned to sign back to Yami who was getting a bit tired of hanging upside down, so Yami ignored the man signing back to him and swung down from the tree to land softly on the ground, his ears rushing tinny with how long he'd been in that annoying position.

All the men in the van jumped in fear but didn't move.

Yami stood slowly and signed back while keeping close to the tree trunk for cover, "...I work alone. OK with taking down Oscar. I don't take money from pigs."

He folded his hands across his chest and stood closer to the tree trunk while the helmeted-man translated, "He says he will help take Oscar down and he doesn't want money."

Yami narrowed his eyes and scowled under his helmet, "translate it fully or don't speak for me at all. My conditions are you– …Take off your visor. I want to see all your ugly faces."

And he leaned against the trunk to relish in their reactions when the man translated, "...Agents, he wants to see my face and…he wants me to translate his rude language verbatim, so please be warned. He wants to 'see all our ugly faces' and he 'doesn't take money from pigs'."

"Why can't we seehis face?" The beanie-wearing agent yelped, and the helmeted agent quickly turned to sign this at Yami, to which Yami replied coldly with, "...you don't deserve to see my face. I don't trust you, but you need to trust me. I can walk in there and tell Oscar you're sniffing around his operation and you'll die."

Agent Haga felt a chill go down his spine at the way the slender individual across the way pointed at him and then drew a line across their throat.
This person might be a woman? Their stature was quite small…

He received a reply from headquarters and relayed this to his co-worker, who gave him a grave nod and then shrugged. Yeah they were at a disadvantage, having been spotted in the first place. At least this psychopath was willing to work with them.

"Well?" Yami prompted, losing his patience as time ticked by and he itched to climb back up in the tree to hide, or enter the premises to start casing it out.

The three agents scrambled to make a decision, quietly muttering to each other while Yami sighed and leaned against the tree, resisting the urge to just walk away. The fact that police were here was good. He was worried this incident went unnoticed, and it had, maybe, by Kaiba's security, but then again, he forgot that Kaiba was a global figure and there might be countermeasures on top of the ones he'd already paid for.

Finally, the agent wearing the helmet nodded and turned back to face the hostile recruit standing by the tree, unclipping the strap under his chin to lift it off his face and then yanking off the face sock underneath, to reveal white hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and a familiar face with sharp features.

Yami's breath hitched as he stared into the clean-shaven face, taking in the man's slender nose, delicate eyebrows and high cheekbones.

He knew this man!

The name…

It was…
Isono had mentioned it multiple times…

PEGASUS!

The…man who pulled a gun on me in the grocery store! Pegasus! Yami blinked in shock. Hey now, wasn't this man burned? Seto had buried him, but apparently he was here, revived, with a job, apparently.

"What is your organization?" Yami signed furiously and he received a retaliating hand sign.

"Tell us your name!"

Yami shook his head furiously, his distrust rising in a hot second.

"Org name, now. Or I walk," Yami finished with a walking motion over his palm with two fingers, and he saw all the agent's faces darken. Ah ha…Why didn't they want to tell him their organization?! But they were fine flashing their badges and names?

There was a light panic, and Pegasus signed a reply carefully while the agents argued behind him.

"C1," Pegasus's hands said, along with, "your username now, please."

"Don't tell him yet! …Waiting for headquarters to reply!"

"Why can't we tell him? He knows our faces! And we don't know his! ...Or her's?!"

C1, Yami's eyelid twitched and he nodded, signing back, aware that Pegasus was disobeying the men in the van to speak with him.

"Gemini," Yami signed carefully, thinking his English spelling was rusty. G-E-M-I-N-I.
And he held up a peace sign. Peaceful.

Pegasus's eyes narrowed and he took a step back, resting his hand on the base of the pistol hanging off his hip as he translated, "the username of this man is Gemini… Boys, are you listening?!"

They're not, Yami thought sourly as he gestured for Pegasus to put the helmet back on before anyone else saw them. It felt dangerous to keep standing here, chatting idly with these agents when someone else could arrive and see them talking.

It was time to go.

He turned to walk away and ignored their panicking behind him. His own safety was at risk and he wasn't wasting his time with them anymore.

"Wait! Where is he going?!..."

"You scared him away!"

"I did not!" Pegasus's furious hiss traveled across the empty field, and he crammed the face sock back on over his head while slipping the helmet on right after, shaking his head in fury as he hurried after the smaller figure in the distance.

"Keep the comm on!" The agents hissed at him, but Pegasus ignored them, intent on following the one named Gemini as he scaled the fence in three, graceful motions and landed on the other side.

"Wait for me!" Pegasus cried, wondering if this ally would kill him later, but to his horror, the person took off running and disappeared into the darkness of the abandoned site, leaving him standing at the fence with the tall shadows blocking out most of the sky.

Yami rolled his eyes in frustration as he hid behind a curved pipe that was thicker than his entire body, and decided to stay there.

How annoying. Pegasus now wanted to stick to him because they'd made 'friends' briefly.
Not a chance.

If that man got caught being Interpol infiltrating this operation, he was dying first.

Giving me time to get away, Yami thought blithely as he sat on the pipe

He could see the shadows cast by more headlights and he noticed cars pulling right up to the fence, and he shook his head. Now if those were his operatives, he'd make them park farther away and then walk…because tires could be tracked.

Amateurs.

A group of heavily-armed men hopped out, all in full gear, but had their helmets tucked under their arms, showing all their faces…like amateurs.

Thunking his head back against the metal pole, Yami heard it make a loud clanging sound, and he froze. Oops.

Hopping off the pipe, he decided to leave his position.

Pegasus stayed by the fence and dared to wave at the group of hostile targets that all got out of one vehicle. The man with heavy tattoos down the side of his face was the obvious leader, jerking his head to the side while the men around him dispersed and began securing the perimeter.

"ID?" The tattooed man asked gruffly in accented English.

Pegasus held his hands up defensively, palms facing forward as he replied, "Baby."

"Ah, it's you," the leader nodded and walked to the opening of the fence where his men had unlocked the gate and were dragging it open for them. "You're early. Good trait to have as a rookie."

Pegasus did not answer. He'd been told to remain silent unless a direct command or question had been aimed at him. This man, Odion, was trigger-happy and was known for killing men on the spot if they so much looked at him funny.

Walking in through the gap in the fence, there was a small circle of men sitting on the ground by a towering, square, oil drum with three thick pipes attached to the sides, where two men sat casually with heavy guns in their laps, their silhouettes dark against the indigo sky.

Deciding to remain standing, Pegasus stayed by the oil drum's side, seeing more people arrive in various vehicles and motorbikes, parking right up against the fence. Perfect. The team in the van would tag all of these criminals and follow them.
Job made easy.

Hopefully.

His main fears were two: the mysterious user named "MTRock" and the leader, Oscar.

20 minutes ticked by silently.

Soon, a group of men wearing thick armor accumulated, milling around, some leaning on the fence, others sitting on the ground beside their long-range gun cases, smoking, and a few others, standing, at attention with rifles strapped across their backs, their hands on their belts, in alert, military-stances.
Scary. It was a small, murdering army.

Pegasus turned left and right, letting the camera on his helmet record it all.

Where was…the man they had run into earlier–Gemini?!

"Okay! Headcount," the leader with the tattooed face barked in accented English, pointing directly at the still-masked individual who identified himself as the baby of the group. "Starting with our Baby. We will call you as such, and if you slow us down, I will kill you myself to save us money. Introduce yourself."

Pegasus broke out into a cold sweat and raised his hand in a tentative wave, "As he said, I am the baby. Thank you for your patience."

There was a round of mean chuckles, and Pegasus's blood ran cold. He might die tonight…
And all for an irritating billionaire he could care less about, but he was out of work, so freelancing as a high-risk spy was all the work that was left for him.
Dangerous, unwanted work that could break his spirit.
Seto Kaiba was going to pay for this…when he lived because of his efforts now.

Hands raised in the group as gruff voices called out their usernames.

"Red-Zulu," said a man against the fence, blocking the exit. "RZ for short."

"Joe," a man grunted from the ground, raising a thick, gloved hand. "J11."

"Wayto, I am the native," said a man with a thick, Japanese accent. "Can interpret. My partner here, Tai. No English. I speak for two."

And the leader nodded, eyeing each person in the group and noticing their body language was relaxed, except for the baby. As expected. He also wasn't taking off his helmet.

"At ease," Odion grunted at the man standing stiffly by the oil drum's side. "No need to be so tense. We are friends on a mission."

There was another round of cold chuckles, and Pegasus shifted his stance, wondering how they could tell he was anxious. Maybe he needed to cross his legs, or sit down. He didn't know.

"We are missing one! MtRock! Identify yourself, or is he absent?" Odion stepped into the middle of the group, surveying each man with a sharp eye, the tip of his boot almost catching the butt of a gun, and that man shifted his weapon away to sit against the metal pipes protruding from the ground. "Where is our veteran with 12 years experience? I'm expecting an old man. Or a woman would be nice."

A hollow knocking could be heard above their heads, and Pegasus jerked his head up so fast, his neck ached.

A dark figure was seen lounging on his back atop the flat surface of the oil drum, throwing up a peace sign while his legs were kicked up in the air, acting extremely casual, maybe even sleepy.

Odion blinked and his anger rose.
Irritating attitude from an old-timer who acted like they knew it all, even taking a tactical position above them?!
Fuck this guy, seriously.
But…this was the kind of caution they needed from a veteran.

There was a dissenting grumble around the group, and a man with an american accent called out, "is the ground too good for you, buddy?"

Yami rolled lazily over onto his stomach and hung one hand down over the edge of the metal drum, knocking out his reply in morse code.

"F u c.. K.. y o u…"

The man rose to his feet and slammed his skull-themed mask down over his face, raising his heavy gun and taking a threatening step forward

Sensing a fight, Odion stepped in front of the man and gave him a glare, "Stand down." And he aimed his glare at the man lazing around atop the oil drum, "identify yourself. Be respectful."

Yami raised one hand and signed lazily, "R o c k." And held up a classic rock-on sign.

"English sign language," the man with the skull mask growled, his fist whitening over the handle of his gun. "You deaf, old man?"

Yami held his palms up to the sides of his face, playfully opening and closing his hands to show that he couldn't hear, making an explosion gesture around the sides of his face.

Ears. Blown out.

"He's crazy or he's got no ears," the man surmised, and Pegasus bit his tongue until he tasted blood.

No. This man was the most dangerous.
He neglected to speak to prevent himself from being identified, and then took a tactical position. Were these idiots blind?

So 'Gemini' was also 'MTRock'.
Good to know.
Would have been better to knowearlier, back at the tree, further showing that this man was withholding information until it benefited him.

"Finish the whole introduction, and reveal your face," Odion growled, raising his weapon to point it threateningly at the lazy individual. "How do we know you're not Atem? He is notorious for being on the inside. That was how my brother was betrayed by him. Take off the helmet."

Yami tilted his head left and right and then propped his hands playfully under his chin, kicking his legs in a carefree manner behind him, pointing at his ears and making the explosion gesture again. Can't hear, therefore, can't obey orders.

And Solomon had been right to suspect that Odion would be more distrustful than Marik.
His own doing, since he'd betrayed Marik so openly. Damn it.

"Someone translate," Odion barked, turning to the skull-masked man. "You! American?"

"Nah, I don't do deaf speak." the man shrugged and sat back down with a heavy sigh. "Wrong guy. I don't know what he said."

If I volunteer, he might shoot me for translating foul insults! Pegasus growled to himself, wondering who he should be more afraid of. MTRock above him, or Oscar, in front of him with the weapon raised?

Well, MtRock was supposed to be on their side, having agreed to help with a take-down earlier, and he was in a more advantageous position. He would help MTRock. They were all violent psychopaths anyway.

"I will interpret, please lower your weapon, Leader," Pegasus said quietly as he turned to face the individual lounging atop the oil drum. "Speak through me…" and he signed visibility so that his arm movements showed on his helmet cam.

"Tell him to ID himself," Odion stepped forward with a threatening nod. "Take off the helmet. Say that."

Pegasus raised his hands to say it, and the figure atop the drum replied by sticking his hand lower against the metal edge, showing off the band of a black watch, where right underneath it was a small tattoo of the astrological sign, ︎, the dark ink almost blending into the tanned skin.

Pegasus blinked and the helmet cam was temporarily blocked when Odion leaned forward to inspect the tattoo, clicking on his flashlight to illuminate it before stepping back with a satisfied nod.

Odion turned back around to face the group, still irritated that their veteran member was deaf, but knowing that there was no way that person could be Atem–it was strictly against Atem's code to be inked.

It was fine. Even if they had some members fail or be killed, they had 22 men here.

22 full-geared men to hit one, irritating billionaire.

"Okay, gear inspection and then we will go through the plan," Odion commanded as he walked through the group of men, staring at their helmets, their boots, their guns, their gloves…everything. "Line up. Mr. Rock, get down from there."

Pegasus broke out into a cold sweat and turned to relay this to the man laying on the drum above him, and he was ignored.

"Fine, leave him, I'll deal with him myself," Odion snapped, aware that his authority was being tested. 12 years in the head-hunting field was more than himself.
And they were in a country where Atem was currently living as a native.
Of course someone might feel like they are above death if they had gone 12 years without running into a menace like Atem.

Their blessing, and their downfall.

Men lined up against the fence and allowed him to adjust or touch parts of their gear. As requested, they were all mostly new or top-of-the-line tech.

When he was satisfied with their gear, he had two of his men bring a portable projector from their truck and beam it up onto the side of the metal drum, walking up and down across it like it was a board while the man named Rock was still lounging on the surface above, making his blood boil, but he told himself to keep his temper.

When the price tag was this high, it brought some people out of retirement, and he had to hope that those retirees would be strong enough to overtake Atem for a mere second, long enough to hit him.

"Translate!" Odion barked as he pointed at the Japanese native, and then at the baby rookie. "I want to see hands moving, andyou!" he turned to slam his palm against the metal surface, making the individual above jump in fear, and that gave him a rush of triumph. "You felt that, didn't you? Deaf but not dumb? PAY ATTENTION!"

I hate him! Yami clenched his teeth and slowly sat up to cross his legs firmly. Fine. No more acting like a sleepy old drunk. He would sit up.

The projector was burning a spot in his eyes, so he had to move aside, enough to see Pegasus signing adequately to what Odion was saying, and he dared to feel a twinge of respect for the disgraced interpol officer.
He might give Pegasus a chance, since he'd never formally met this man before.

Odion was detailing the plan, and Yami committed it all to memory while slowly remembering each ugly face that sat before him on the ground. This spot above gave him the perfect vantage point to see all their faces illuminated by the glow of the projector.

He barely listened to the details because he was too busy picturing ways to take the men out. Currently, he was wavering between stalking them to their respective hotels and then killing them there, or blowing up one of the cars, then going back through the carnage to kill the ones that were still alive.

Neither scenario would be discreet, and the second idea might hurt Pegasus or any other agents nearby.

"I want you all in position, on time, rested, and cooperative with my orders!" Odion turned to aim this comment at the man sitting on the oil drum above. "Since our veteran is deaf, I won't appoint a Beta Leader. The coordination requires an audio cue, so our vet will be stationed by the exit to make sure it stays clear."

Pegasus was carefully signing it, but wondering if the man atop the oil drum was even listening. His masked head was pointed at a direction above the fence, so he doubted anything was being heard. This was going to be messy, but at least…it was all recorded in his helmet cam for the team.

"Dismissed, and I want check-in times from you all," Odion said gruffly, seeing the men stand and shuffle their way to the fence. "Send it to me with your routing numbers and your username. You will all be paid on the day. If you desert after receiving the money, I will personally find you and kill you."

He received callous nods and waves.
The men didn't respect him, that was obvious.

It was clear that this hit on Seto Kaiba was a personal vendetta, given how he was funding it himself and recruiting himself, putting himself at risk first. Irritating!
But anything for Marik, who had left him the roster.
Seto Kaiba was the VIP who just wouldn't die.

There was a working theory that Atem was protecting him, but no one had any proof of that.

Low putters of motorcycle and car engines vibrated in the air as the men moved out, leaving only the baby behind, with the vet laying back down atop the oil drum, still kicking his legs up like he was on vacation on a beach.

"Rock! Get down from there. Come here," Odion growled, resisting the urge to throw something at the man, and he had to address the baby. "Tell him."

Pegasus sighed and walked over to knock on the oil drum to get the man down.

Yami rolled over and tilted his head, seeing Odion pointing an aggressive finger down by his feet, and he shook his head. Nope.

"I stay…up here. Say what you need…to say," Yami signed, knowing that if Odion measured his height, he might think he was Atem merely by that fact alone.

Pinching his brow in fury, Odion spoke to the baby, seeing him signing furiously to portray his anger, "...you are almost on the end of my nerves. Do you understand your role? Don't make me babysit you, or I'll kick you off the operation."

Irritated, Yami replied with equal, ferocious motions, "I can see you just fine. I understand your plan and will stay by the station where I'm needed. Now fuck off, I want to star gaze." And then he laid back down to tuck his hands behind his head.

He waited until he heard Odion let out a growl and footsteps echoed from below, indicating the men were dispersing. The engine of the truck started with a rumble, and the group finally peeled out, leaving behind the stench of exhaust and a tiny plume of dust from the road.

Pegasus finally let his breath out but didn't dare fully relax yet. He had a feeling…
This MtRock might be more deranged than Odion. There was a silent competition for authority and he had a feeling that MtRock had won.

Maybe that was a good thing.

"Clear…" Agent Haga's voice buzzed in his comm, so he relayed it in sign language to the man above him.

Yami caught a motion beneath him and didn't see the sign, but sat up and replied with a quick one-handed gesture, "what? Say it again."

"Clear," Pegasus said as he moved to unclip his helmet, and he received a flat palm telling him to stop.

Yami hopped off the oil drum and swept the surrounding area, wondering if anyone had left behind any listening devices, or …explosives.

He knew he was acting paranoid but he didn't care. Seto's life was on the line and if someone like Pegasus was on the protection team, it didn't fill him up with confidence.

Unfolding the LED strip flashlight from his belt, Yami swept the ground where the men had been sitting, around the pipes where men had been leaning, and up along the fence.

No attached devices. Now it was clear.

Pegasus held his breath fearfully, unaware that a threat could be left over from that meeting, and he understood that this MtRock/Gemini individual was truly….a veteran.

Yami gestured over his head towards the van and walked out through the gap in the fence, aiming for the safety of the tree.

He wasn't about to be caught out in the open, colluding after the first collusion.
Playing both sides was more dangerous than only playing one.

Pegasus followed dutifully and was suffocating under the layers of heavy armor, but decided to keep it on until he was told to take it off.

Yami climbed up the tree again and sat on the lowest branch, seeing the van doors open, and the heads poked out, giving him thumbs up. The agents were both wearing headsets and now had their standard issue jackets on because it had gotten chilly.

"Nice work you two," Agent Haga praised, and he watched Pegasus sit heavily on the van's lower step and take off his helmet with a tired sigh.
Strands of white hair were astray from his ponytail.

Yami drew a line across his throat and gave the agent a middle finger.
This did not mean they were friends. Fucker.

"Alright Alright," the agent held his hands up defensively and gave the armored individual a shaky smile. "While you guys were in class, we managed to identify every single one of them and GPS tag their cars. Mr. Maximilian, we have all their faces thanks to your recording, and we should have all the men rounded up by tomorrow, just in time for Mr. Kaiba's release, the day after tomorrow. Sound good? All in a day's work!"

Pegasus scowled and began unbuckling his chest plate.

"I demand to be the one to deliver the news," he growled, and Yami rolled his eyes. Right, because Pegasus had been scorned by Seto.

Yami waved and signed quickly, "And I want updates of their capture."

"Ah, how will we tell you?" Agent Ryuzaki asked with a gleam in his eye, scratching his head under his red beanie. "Got a phone number, Mr. Gemini?"

Yami gave him a middle finger again and pointed at Pegasus, "update this agent. I will be on him."

"Please don't," Pegasus muttered and he turned to translate the sign language, "he says update me, and I will deliver the news."

"Oh yeah, how?" Agent Haga raised his eyebrows and folded his arms across his chest with an incredulous head-shake. "You can trust us to contact you. We've already promised not to arrest you, Mr. Rock."

Not good enough, and I don't care, Yami replied viciously, getting comfortable on his tree branch and folding his arms too. He knew he could always contact Pegasus using whatever means Seto had. Contacting agents dumb and dumber in the van was more of a hazard.

He would stay here until the van left, since his car was stowed away underneath the nearest bridge by the river, he couldn't safely drive home until this van moved.

"He's checked out," Pegasus said gruffly as he noticed the casual body language again as the full-armored man behaved with surprising grace even though he was weighed down with so much. He had his legs crossed on the branch above while his back leaned against the trunk.
The epitome of uncaring. Scary.

"Alright, he's done with us. Let's go team," Agent Ryuzaki ducked back into the van and let Pegasus climb in to join them. The doors slammed shut and the van rolled away.

Yami stayed against the tree, listening.

The silence was ringing and…not comforting at all.

After 15 minutes, he slid down the trunk and landed softly on his feet.
Time to retrieve his car and head home.
Just as he'd anticipated, it was around 4AM.
He would be back in bed beside Seto before he left for work.
Perfect.

Author's note:

Atem comes out to play again and meets familiar faces :O