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"The Preventer Special Ops Vignettes"Written By: Dùlin
Archive: This arc is archived on this site with permission. Do not reproduce it anywhere without permission. Disclaimer : Gundam Wing ? Not mine ! Not mine
! *whines* Why ? Rating: Mostly PG for the moment, for bad words, ratings may come up in future vignettes. Warnings: Original Character POV, bad humour, some yaoi implications, and slaughter of a paramilitary organization. Probably some violence and language as the arc develops, but nothing too heavy. A tad angsty too, but really, I'm doing this for fun and relaxation so be prepared for anything. Pairings : rumored, hinted at, implied, drooled upon 1x2, 3x4, 5xS and 6x9 Spoilers: probably some for the whole series Notes: This story is set as a canon continuation beginning in AC 201. The five G-boys, Zechs and Noin are all Preventers and elite members of the famous Special Ops. They are also instructors for the newest members of that elite team. The series will not really deal with personal relationships strictly speaking. It will follow the point of view of several OCs, with some exceptions, and mostly deal with how people would react to working with the boys. And mostly, it is supposed to be at least a bit funny. *runs away from her angst muse* Thanks : Karina, Cozzy Bob, Winged Kitty, MORgan,
Deb, Sakusha, and everyone who reads.
The Preventer Special Ops Vignettes Vignette # 5
Vignette #5 - Demolition Man We kind of spent two days taking only physical tests.
We were tested on endurance, speed, obstacle races, orientation, that
kind of stuff. By the time we were finished, two other people had
been thrown out, because they didn’t reach the (very high) standards
set by the training program. I am beginning to wonder myself if I
will ever meet those standards. I was exhausted by the end of the
tests. Let me tell you I have absolutely no problem to sleep at night,
my body goes to sleep even before I order it to. Today is our first demolition class. It’s a first
for me. As a field agent, I never had to deal with bombs, those are
the kind of stuff the Special Ops are called to deal with. I never
had to create a bomb either, although I know the basics. I still wonder
why we are learning to do that, maybe for those famous ‘hit and
run’ operations we heard about. Still, it spooks me a bit that
Preventers would actually teach their agents to become little terrorists
to fight other terrorists. **** We are standing at attention on what is called the ‘demolition
grounds’. We found a note in the locker room earlier telling
us to meet there and wait for our instructor. Some of the other agents
were there too, and Marco and Anna waved at us. They were putting
on some heavy gear, I think they were going out on a mission. I am
not part of the Special Ops yet, and still I found myself hoping that
they would be back soon and unscathed. We all jump as a cheery voice calls from behind and
Maxwell saunters in the middle of the group, greeting us with a big
smile. “Hi, class ! Let’s get started, shall we ?
Now stop standing there like you’ve all got sticks up your asses
and gather ‘round, I don’t wanna have to shout my throat
out for you to hear me !” We are all a bit puzzled, but if there’s one thing
Maxwell never was, it’s conventional. Which does not mean that
he would take well of people not respecting his rank. He ranks us,
but he is secure enough not to need to show it off in our faces like
some officers I know. “Alright, can everybody hear me ?” “Yessir !”, we answer with great ensemble.
He blinks once. “Whoa, that’s a bunch of well-trained gals
and boys ! No need to say it that loud, I am right here ! Why military
types always need to shout is beyond me, anyway …” He shrugs. “Okay, first thing first, this class is not about
teaching you to make things go boom … wait, scratch that, this
is exactly the point !” He looks at all of us and grow a bit more serious. “I am gonna teach you how to eliminate a target
with the means of bombs and explosives, by making, if possible, no
casualties. We use those methods mainly to destroy old weapon-manufacturing
facilities, and not so old manufactures, actually. This training also
includes learning how to defuse a bomb should you happen to be in
oh so unsavory but alas frequent situation where you’re the one
trapped with a bomb you didn’t set.” He looks around. “Who never did this ?” Unsurprisingly, quite a lot of people raise their hands.
I do too, and so does Pete. Those who don’t are mostly ex-rebels
and ex-soldiers. “Good”, Maxwell says. He takes out a small device and pushes a button. And
the world explodes around us. **** I retain just enough of my self-control to protect my
head and drop to the ground, but I am one of the lucky few. Most of
my comrades have been thrown to the ground and are dirty all over,
and kind of shocked. I look up to find Maxwell frowning at us, and
I almost yell at him. What the hell was he thinking, doing that to
us ? “I do not congratulate you”, he says evenly.
“How do you expect to be good agents if you can’t even react
to a surprising and threatening situation ?” People get up groaning and I shoot a look to my friends. “Psst, Pete, Dinah, you okay ?” “I’ll tell you as soon as I know” Pete
says shakily, and Dinah doesn’t answer “This kind of situation can happen any time, anywhere,
to any of you”, Maxwell starts again. “Don’t think
that because this is training, I’ll be nicer to you ! I’m
here to teach you to stay alive in extreme situations, so deal ! I
don’t care about wimps, and I certainly won’t be holding
you by the hand ! If you don’t like it, then get out of my class”,
he adds louder when some begin to complain. “This is not a game
!” Then he smiles again. “Well, most of the time it isn’t. If you’re
lucky I’ll show you some inoffensive applications to some of
our classes that can give you a ride in real life. Anyway …” He suddenly looks around and stops in front of me. “Agent Isozaki, step forward, please.” I am shocked, first that he knows my name, then that
he chose me. My first reaction is ‘Oh my god, what did I do ?’.
I step forward and try not to shake and to ignore Pete turning green
again. One day he’ll stay that color permanently. “Agent Isozaki, could you please tell the rest
of your comrades what you did ?” I stare at him. “I don’t understand, sir.” “You all saw me taking out that thing”, he
says, waving the device. “I did not exactly take you by surprise
here. Yet only a few of you reacted accordingly, and you were one
of them, Agent Isozaki. So try and remember exactly what you did.” “I protected my head and dropped to the ground.” “Very good. First rule when you’re caught
in a surprise explosion. Save your own life first. Agent Isozaki protected
the back of her head and went down, thus reducing the risk of getting
hit by flying projectiles. What then ?” “I got up”, I say stupidly. “After that, Agent Isozaki.” “Uh …” I feel very dumb all of a sudden. I don’t know
what he expects of me. “You checked on your neighbors”, he says.
“You made sure you were unhurt, and then you checked on the people
closest to you and made sure they were unhurt too. Second rule. You
will not be sent on a lot of solo missions, those are usually for
me and the guys. Your partner or partners must be sure they can rely
on you and you on them. Your first goal must always be to stay alive,
but you must also make sure your team stays alive. This is important,
because those of you who pass may have to take positions of commandment
in some operations, but you’ll work that out with Q later.” He turns to face me again. “Do you have any military training ?” “No, sir.” “That’s good. For all of you who do, we are
not trying to be heroes here. Getting the bad guys is our mission
but staying alive comes first. Unfortunately, explosions take out
a number of agents every month, so be on your guard and watch your
step. We are going to start with the basics now, who know how much
C-4 is needed to blow up a four-story building ?” Several hands fly up, and I see Maxwell smile appreciatively as my comrades ask some precision about the imaginary building, like what its walls are made off and what kind of structure it has and so on. Pete is not green anymore, and Dinah is participating enthusiastically. I go back into the ranks of my fellow trainees. I think
those guys are mad adepts of the ‘Don’t say, show’
method. I don’t believe that any of us could have gotten hurt.
We are a bit dirty and shaken, but the only thing that is wounded
is our pride. I will soon learn that sitting on your pride is one
big part of becoming a Special Ops agents. **** “That was awesome !”, Dinah says joyfully
as we make our way back to the locker room. “Yeah”, I answer, “if you understood
only half of what he said. The only thing I know about bombs is that
you need something flammable and a clock mechanism to make them work.” “Don’t worry, Minako”, Pete says on my
other side, “that’s all I know too. Didn’t he say that
we would have theoretical classes and lab experiments first ?” I imagine Maxwell as a mad scientist with a white lab
coat concocting a bomb in an overstuffed laboratory and giggle. “I hope I make it there”, Dinah says hopefully. “By the way, Dinah, where did you learn all of
that stuff about explosives ?”, Pete inquires, asking the question
I was wondering how to ask. “I … kind of joined a group of rebels after
Queen Relena surrendered to Romefeller. My parents were not happy
about it. We blew up a couple of trucks and Mobile Dolls at the time,
nothing big, but I know how to use C-4.” “You never told me about that”, I mutter. “I didn’t know how you would take it.” “Hey, I was a rebel too”, I protest. “The
only difference is that my turf was making sure the trucks and choppers
didn’t get blown up and flying the things to locations.” “Did you really fly an Aries ?”, Pete asks. I flinch a bit. This is not my most glorious memory,
and I don’t like talking about it. So I just say it. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Pete looks puzzled, and it makes me a bit mad. I swear,
some times, guys get on my nerves. Give them a mobile suit and they
act like big babies who got a toy for Christmas. Heh. Guess you understand
now why I admire Une or Noin or Po so much, ne ? We all get into the locker room. It’s quite full,
with the thirty-six of us survivors of the first days, and about twenty
agents changing and chatting. The level of conversation lowers a bit
as we come in and the agents seize us up. Only fair I guess. The last
ten of us will be their partners, they want to check out and make
bets on who’s gonna last. We don’t really care right now,
we are covered in dirt and tired from spending the day on the demolition
grounds, and all we want is a shower. We even manage not to be impressed
by Barton and Winner, who are quietly speaking with each other while
looking for some stuff in their lockers. I go to my own locker, eager to get my towel and my
soap and to get the slime of the day off me … and yelp at the
same time as my thirty-five comrades as the shaving cream bomb that
someone rigged to the opening mechanism explodes and covers me in
the white smelly stuff. A dead silence falls on the room before the
older agents burst out laughing. “Hey”, someone yells, “now you’re
part of the team !” I turn around to see who said that, but my gaze falls
on Barton and Winner. Winner is snickering, and Barton just smiling,
whispering something in Winner’s ear and assessing the damage.
All of our lockers have been rigged, I have no idea of when since
Maxwell was not late and the lockers were perfectly normal this morning. “I can’t believe Duo did that again”,
I hear Winner say. “Or that no one from the other years warned
them”, he adds, surveying the flock of older agents who laugh
at us. “Where would be the fun in that ?”, Barton
answers, and Winner snickers again. Barton looks around from behind his hair and smiles
again. “It’s still better than the tear gas bombs
from last year”, he says. “I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there, remember
?” They exchange a little secretive smile and begin to
make their way out, and suddenly I’m not mad at anyone anymore.
In a way, I think this was Maxwell’s way of telling us we are
welcome here. Because I don’t think he would even bother to spray
people he doesn’t like in shaving cream, they wouldn’t even
be worth his mirth. “Think we can get the video feedback from the surveillance
cameras ?”, I ask Pete, who is groaning about having to put the
shaving cream out of his hair. “What for ?” “I want a souvenir”, I say. “I want to
be able to say to my grandkids that I was showered in shaving cream
by Duo Maxwell, Gundam Pilot 02. What do you say ?” “I’m in”, Dinah says, giving me a high-five.
“Make me a copy.” “Make that several”, I add, “I think
some of the others may want it too.” ~ * ~ |
