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"Deep Cover"Written By: Karen The Huntress Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its
characters Rating: R Warnings: language, angst, suspense, lemon Pairings: 1x2, 2x1 Summary: Any way you look at it a whole lotta
shit can happen in four months. Hair trigger hazards of a covert solo
mission and danger zooms into the red zone. "Deep Cover"
Part Two
~Heero Yuy~
Four months earlier.
Haloed in bluish cigarette smoke Akira Komura, aka Scorpion, barks in Japanese to dismiss three subordinate lackeys from his inner sanctum. He opens a bottle of Wild Turkey. Nods at an adjacent chair. "Sit."
The young man, extensively vetted but sure as hell not trusted, settles back with casual boldness and accepts an amber shot of whiskey. "No time for chitchat." establishes the rules of negotiation, "Discuss a deal or I leave."
Komura scrutinizes the renegade who'll never be a team player. What brand of loyalty can be expected from Lone Wolf? Perhaps the meeting should be adjourned with a bullet between the arrogant bastard's eyes.
"So, Yuy, what should I demand as proof of your allegiance?" is asked rhetorically.
Heero regards the Red Dragon leader with an air of indifference. "I don't jump through hoops."
Komura speculates. "Was that your rationale for deserting Preventer?"
"My reasons are none of your business."
"Perhaps, but a credible explanation could prove crucial to your well-being." Komura warns.
Heero finishes his drink in one gulp. Shot glass clinks on the tabletop. "You've evaluated my extensive talents or we wouldn't be talking. Don't waste time with hollow threats."
A grin flickers over Komura's lips. "Cocky attitude and balls of steel." he declares with distain at being logically bested, "We may have business to discuss after all."
****** ~Scorpion Lair~
Substantial compensation for loyalty or horrid death for infidelity. Komura utilizes dual incentives to control the dozen ex-OZ enforcers on his private security squad.
Sooner rather than later rebel Gundam pilot Heero Yuy will be recognized, this conclusive fact constantly compels Lone Wolf to watch his back.
Komura also warrants perpetual vigilance, such as inventive tactics to outfox repulsive sexual propositions. Although damn annoying Heero exploits the lechery to his benefit, feints interest to decoy notice from his hacking into Syndicate databases and snooping around the warehouse.
However Yohji Hidaka is the most imperative threat. Youngest son of the infamous Hidaka Clan, the sociopathic twenty-three year old is predisposed to vicious flares of temper.
Straightaway Yohji viewed the newest Red Dragon recruit as a rival in his promotion through the ranks. Add jealousy spurred by Komura's blatant fascination and Heero became the prime target of vindictive rage.
Deep cover duty with zero support, coupled with sexual harassment and continuous alertness, begins to take its toll.
To ensure marginal security Lone Wolf does what's necessary to conform. Whatever's required to perpetuate the ruse.
Piercing his left ear because the boss thinks it's sexy. Launching his computer skills against Red Dragon adversaries. Fake accounts reallocates money. Contraband is electronically hijacked. Photoshop pictures are fabricated for blackmail.
Not much ethical blowback for those anonymous offenses. No justification. Then again, death might be deemed the consequence of war, but condoning murder is unpardonable.
Apathy on autopilot, Heero utters no protest when Yohji bludgeons a man to death. Nor does he intervene when the mangled body is dumped into a makeshift grave at a construction site.
Whiskey and marijuana numbs the senses. Submission to relentless coercion from Kamura for blowjobs strips away another layer of dignity. Gradually guilt loses its sway. Heero sinks deeper into his renegade role and drifts further away from himself.
Seclusion. Spartan room. Door bolted. Fingers caress a Glock automatic pistol. Heero sprawls on rumpled bedcovers and stares at the spider web festooned ceiling.
He misses Duo!
A single lamp casts feeble illumination, plays tricks of light and shadows across a haze of pot smoke. He craves a drink, a liquor-concocted mirage to escape the raw misery tormenting his soul.
"Keep it together." is hissed to rebuke any hint of vulnerability.
*For your sake?* his inner voice inquires.
Heero closes his eyes and sighs. "For Duo's sake."
****** ~Day of Reckoning~
Sixteenth week.
The succinct encrypted text message to Commander Une reads: Launch Scorpion Sting.
A smirk of satisfaction. Heero presses SEND.
****** Glock tucked in the back waistband of faded jeans and hidden by a black tee shirt, Heero opens a metal fireproof door topped with a red EXIT sign and enters the main warehouse.
Thirty meters inside. Yohji Hidaka and six fanatical cronies form a blockade. Emboldened by a false sense of superiority and duped by a sturdy case of stupidity, Yohji throws down the gauntlet.
First provocation. Contemptuous remarks about the puny dimensions of Heero's dick. Next the smart-assed underling brags about his Martial Arts prowess.
Finally Yohji swaggers up to Lone Wolf. "When I finish there ain't gonna be nothing left for Komura to fuck."
Without retort Heero glides into a defensive stance.
Initial flurry of strikes and kicks is countered as easily as puffing across thistle fluff. Forearm block repels a punch. Heero pivots left, intercepts an off-center side kick, snags his opponent's ankle and flings Yohji against the wall.
Enraged. Spewing a barrage of curses. Yohji brandishes a switchblade and makes a headlong charge. This time Heero doesn't bother to step aside. Front snap kick dislodges the knife. An uppercut breaks Yohji's nose. Blood gushes. Knees buckle. Convincingly trounced, the challenger sprawls on the concrete floor like a limp rag doll.
Eyes ablaze Heero kneels, grabs a fistful of blood-stained shirt and cocks back a quivering fist to deliver the final fatal blow.
Miraculously a minuscule shred of humanity remains intact. A whisper penetrates the thunder clash of rage. "Don't let Yohji win by sinking to his level." Duo counsels spectrally.
Air hisses through clenched teeth. Heero lets go. An acidic glare assures no further opposition before he plows a path through the stunned bystanders. ~ * ~
tbc...
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