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"Operation Operative Operation"Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: R Warnings: Language Summary: Someone wants to steal Duo's appendix. While its still in him? Pairings: 1 + 2 + 3
"Operation Operative Operation "
Part 11. "He seems so young." And the old man seemed so old. Ampirst curbed his impatience at this foolish geezer.
The oldster appeared to be way into his dotage. Even if mainlined
stem cells were keeping him alive, the buyer's brain seemed nine-tenths
turned to mush already. The tech shook his head. Steady on. Keep up
the front. This elderly idiot was still holding the mega-credits.
Just a bit longer and Ampirst would be filthy rich. Then he could
shake this place. And everything nasty it represented. He eyed the
millionaire. Billionaire, probably. The old guy was definitely the
real thing. Dressed in a hand-tailored black suit made of genuine
silk. From Japanese silk worms. Which had writhingly died, given up
their creepy crawly little lives for this fellow's luxury. Beneath
the elder's glistening, clean-shaven face was cinched a dandy, rose-colored
cravat. With an antique stick pin shaped like tiny lilies of the valley,
the sprig all inlaid in mother of pearl. But the clincher was a finger
ring, intricately wrought of solid gundanium. Openly, ostentatiously
worn on his left fifth finger. Highly illegal possession, that. The old geezer was a player all right. His ancient voice whined gratingly. "So this is
Duo Maxwell, eh? The famous gundam pilot? Is he all right? Why is
he so still?" "Oh. Impressive physical specimen. Very impressive,"
the old man murmured, reaching a tremulous hand to stroke the long
silky braid that was the L2 Kid's most recognizable feature. Other
than his violet eyes. Which were emphatically shut at the moment. Ampirst suddenly jumped in alarm. As the eyes opened.
Opened and stared at the old man's hand. The gundanium ring. "Heero?" the Kid's voice muttered. "No, son. Its just us," the old geezer soothed,
running his wrinkled hand over the boy's cheek, and letting it settle,
almost randomly to rest on the throat, over the carotid pulse. "And
what is wrong with his appendix?" The doddering fool seemed suddenly
less foolish. "Why is he having it out?" "Well, he is a soldier. There is such a thing as
'field-readiness'," Ampirst hastily responded, nervously eying
the boy's supposedly unconscious form. "Oh, ah?" the old man examined the sweating
tech with a coldly assessing look. "And Maxwell is in agreement
with the surgery? The sale of his tissues?""Certainly, certainly.
We will, of course, supply you with a release form, personally signed
by Duo Maxwell himself. At the time of the cash transaction. You have
brought the full amount? One million one hundred and fifty-thousand
credits?" Ampirst licked his lips. "Oh yes. Its in the briefcase, there, just as we
agreed. Go ahead and count it, if you like." The elderly buyer
looked up as Juloiskoe came barging into the room. "Yes. We'll be counting it right now, sure enough,"
the big fellow agreed with an overt leer. The old man glanced from Juloiskoe, back to Ampirst.
"I recognize you. I've seen you around," he nodded rather
crisply toward the tech. His demeanor, his stance, even his voice,
now seemed firmer, more vigorous. "Do you know, I shaved just
for your benefit?" "Shaved?" Ampirst shook his head at this random
item, wondering what the demented old coot was going on about now. "Yes. Shaved. I've had a mustache for nearly fifty
years. My lady friends seem to like it. But I clipped it all off.
I didn't want you to recognize me before we could have this little
conversation. You can't conceive how I have been relishing the prospect
of this opportunity. Once in a lifetime. The chance to say it, out
loud, with a proper dramatic flourish. To say 'Preventers. Freeze.
"What the fuck?" Juloiskoe snarled. "Walthur Denne, MD, FICS. Chair, Head and Neck
Surgery, Preventers' L1 Medical Facilities. I'm most decidedly not
pleased to make your acquaintance, sir." Juloiskoe roared in a fury. From hiding, his pistol
rose, crackling, powered to full strength, and lowered to aim at the
old man's face. Simultaneously, Maxwell's one freed hand shot out from
under the blanket, grappled with the thug's gun fist, directing the
weapon's fire to burn a smoking hole straight through the ceiling. While Yuy and Barton exploded onto the scene. Barton threw a sharp uppercut to Ampirst's chin, a swift
roundhouse to the man's gut, one brisk knee to the groin, and the
tech's square body collapsed moaning to the floor. Trowa had him handcuffed
in less than ten seconds.With his first lunge, Yuy knocked the pistol
from Juloiskoe's tingling grip. Barton secured the weapon, but otherwise refrained from
further interference with the fight. Heero seemed to be systematically
pummeling his huge opponent with feet and fists, as if cataloguing
the man's anatomic features while he battered them. Juloiskoe was
massive, but neither fit nor skillful enough to represent any challenge
to Heero's martial prowess. Trowa turned away. He had no intention of interrupting
Yuy's exercise regimen. Meanwhile, Denne had removed Maxwell's restraints, and
was now giving his patient a once-over. "Barton. The oxygen tank
from the ambulance. Rather briskly, if you please." Duo felt the air mask pressed against his face, just
before he plummeted into the coldest, darkest depths of nonexistence. ~ * ~ |
