Fic: Under Water, No One Can Hear You Scream 2/5 Due South/Aliens
Title: Under Water, No One Can Hear You Scream!
By: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own Alien or Due South.
Summary: Ray witnessed the destruction of the Nostromo, yet no one believes him. With the help of Fraser, his former lover, he finds proof that he was telling the truth. Proof that they take to Chicago. However, before any reunions can be planned, all hell breaks loose, and conspiracy members start playing point the finger.
Warnings: Violence, Alien hosting, language, character death, and Het.
Category: Slash.
Words: 51,000
Rated: Adult
Time line: Takes place five years after COTW. Canada's recent gay marriage laws are considered as a full legal marriage and all that it entails in this story.
Author's Note: Do not read this if you hated the movies Alien and Aliens. Part 6 Take me home tonight
Six hours later.
Four agents circled round the Twenty-Seventh's parking lot once more before heading out to check the rest of the block. Ray watched them, gun in hand. He sat in the bushes across the road waiting. His target was due any moment.
Right on time, Ray Vecchio came around the building to the parking lot. Holding the button on his key ring, he deactivated the alarm on his newest Iv. With his hand on the door to open it, he paused at the click of the hammer on a gun. "I knew you would come for me."
"Smart man, Vecchio. I need intel and you got it." Ray smiled as he stood in the dark parking lot, making sure none of the security lights would shine on him. "Get in. Don't even think about using the panic button, I deactivated that part of the alarm."
"Why'd you do it, Stanley?"
"To use the words everybody loves spoutin around here, there are things going on that you don't understand."
Hand still on the door, Vecchio looked at Ray. "Try me."
"Not here. Get in the car, take me from here, and then we'll talk." When Vecchio climbed in the driver's side, Ray crawled in the back seat, gun still pointing at Vecchio. "Now drive."
"All right, Stanley." Making sure not to hit any thing with his baby, Vecchio pulled the car out of the lot and down the road. "Okay, we're moving, now spill."
"I can't give you too many details, as it is, you know too much already. Basics are, I am not just a Detective. Ripley ain't a free lance snitch either."
"They told us that much! Something about you and her working to uncover a conspiracy to sell weapons to third world nations."
Ray nodded. "That was part of it, yes. There are other things, but that is the heart of what you need to know. Others in our government don't want this operation to stop, got political favors they owe to these dictators in order to maintain control. Over the past three years, we have been stepping up crack downs that have caused these men problems. Many of these self appointed world leaders are losing control."
"You mean you are basically fucking the world over by cutting their ties to the black market?"
"Yes."
Vecchio stopped the car. "You tellin me many of these terrorist acts is because your people are fucking over these dictators?"
"Yes! It is an unfortunate side effect of our work, but we can't let them commit greater atrocities than what has already happened. Which they would if they had these weapons! They are becoming desperate, and these attacks are signs of it. We force these same men that originally helped them get in power to put them down like rabid dogs. Manipulate them into losing their power base before we take them out too." Ray stopped to take a breath, his attempts at convincing Vecchio becoming too eager that he forgot to.
Vecchio stared in the review mirror at Ray, his eyes wide from shock. "Holy fucking shit, Stanley! You have got to be fucking kiddin me!"
"Wish... I was," he gasped out.
"Either you are insane, or the world has been more complicated than I thought."
"Probably both." Ray finally had his breathing under control. "Our organization has been hit recently. One of our members was bought out when he was discovered. It was either that or death for him, turns out his greed was what got him exposed him in the first place. We lost fifteen of our best because him. All agents that were exposed were recalled. My operation was too important to let it go, my position well hidden despite my name being sold to those in power. I had taken Turnbull's name in case such exposure, but also because he asked me to.
"However, along side my name was that of Ripley's when Burke sold out our entire operation. The only hope of salvaging the project and saving those people was to expose a side of it in public. When I called the Coast Guard to meet me on the beach with National Guard back up, no one showed. Half an hour later, the Nostromo came into view over the horizon just before she went up like Hiroshima.
"The coast guard ignored my calls, said there was no explosion reported. I immediately turned over my work to the organization, they did a little house keeping and terminated Burke. I got the go ahead to find evidence that the Nostromo did exist before they could cover up the profiles of the crew. Again, we were too late and you exposed me to the FBI, the men in power's lap dogs.
"Thatcher gave me Fraser's location, not because she was involved in the conspiracy, but because she believed me. She has either gone into hiding or is dead. Either way, we can write her out of it forever. Which is a pity cause about now I could use someone to trust."
"Well that counts me out." Vecchio sighed as he started the car moving again. "Wanna tell me what information I might have to give you?"
"You are on their team. I need to know what exactly they told you about Ripley and the secret project they were smuggling from the US to Canada on the Nostromo."
"I can't tell you that. I don't know anything. They just said that it wasn't what you thought and that if you let Ripley run free, that would be a very bad thing."
Ray pointed the gun at Vecchio's head. "I wasn't askin, Vecchio. Now I need to know what the hell they exposed her to. She wasn't herself when we rescued her."
"And she is now, Stanley?"
"Yes."
"I saw the security tapes. You mean to tell me that cold blooded killer is the same person you have been in contact with for the past five years?" He couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice.
"I already told you, yes! We have to be willing to do what is best to serve the greater good. Kinda cliched, but it works." When Vecchio started laughing, he glared at him. "What?"
"The word is cliched, you dumb polack!"
"Fuck you, Vecchio!"
"That is a pleasure you will never have."
"Enough games, Ray!" Ray, leaned forward in the back seat. "Tell me what the fuck I want to know now! You didn't see her on that damn boat. When we pulled her out of the dingy she was unresponcive, then suddenly she was jumping about like a god damned Kangaroo, screaming her head off about something being in me. They said there was something in a sample jar I cracked, but there was nothing when I checked to suggest there was.
"For the past two weeks since we started home, Ripley has been in and out of a vegetative state until two days ago. She woke up the other morning fine with no memory of the events of the last few days on the Nostromo until now. Now you tell me what the hell takes three weeks from a person's life. Keep in mind she was trained for special ops, and memory exercises are a part of that. What the fuck could break her training like that?"
"I don't know! I don't fucking know!" Slamming on the breaks, Vecchio turned towards Ray, glaring at the man. "How many times I gotta tell you, I don't know!"
"That's too bad, Vecchio. Kinda started to like you towards the end."
"You weren't so bad yourself, Turnbull."
Ray smiled at him. "That's the first time you ever called me by my last name."
"I wasn't talking to you, Stanley."
His face fell as he turned to look at the seat beside him. "What the fu..." was all he got out as the seat lowered and a hand with a hypodermic needle swung out from the crawl space leading to the trunk. The needle plunged into his side, causing the contents of it to empty into him. Ray knocked the hand back, snapping the needle off at the skin, leaving the tip imbedded in his side. "You son of a bitch!" Firing randomly into the front seat, Ray grabbed the handle to the door and jumped out.
Running through the street, he favored his right side while holding the gun out with the other. About two hundred yards from the car, he heard Vecchio cursing his name along side his Husband chastising the Italian for his language. Four hundred yards after that, the world started to go black. That was when his luck caught up with him and a Taxi came into view. Signaling, it came, he barely had time to get in before collapsing.
"Where to.... Oh shit! You ain't gonna get my kitty, ass hole!" The Cabi tapped on the glass. "Bullet proof."
Ray held up his gun to the glass. "Armor Piercing. Take me to the closest harbor and I'll think of tipping you."
"Let's see some cash."
"Ballsy bastard!" Ray winced as he pulled out his wallet and showed the man a hundred. "Now fuckin earn it and get me the hell out of here."
At that same time, the cab shook when a man in red Serge jumped on the back.
"Fuck! Drive damn you!" Ray fired through the glass into the dash, shattering the protective surface.
"Shit! I'm movin!" Flooring it, the Cabi took off, causing the Mountie to fall off the back.
Ray watched Renfield get up and dust himself off with a sad smile. "Sorry, Ren." With that, Ray slid down into the seat, a deep lethargy filling him. The trip to the Worf went unnoticed until the cab pulled to a sudden stop.
"We're here!"
Ray climbed out, tossing the Cabi a couple bills. "Keep the change." Waiting until the cursing Cabi pulled out of sight, Ray walked over to the water. Glaring at the surface, he fell backwards on to the dock and passed out.
______________________________________________________ Part 7 Searching for a way to put right what once went wrong.
Twenty minutes later.
Ray snorted awake, eyes blinking from a start. Something had awakened him. The bed beneath him shook a little and started to creak. He shifted a little, causing it to creak again. Ray then realized a few things. One, he wasn't in a bed. Two, he was on a dock. Three, that dock was about to collapse. Doing the only sane thing he could come up with, he log rolled.
Just as he rolled about six paces, the dock he had been laying on collapsed into the bay. Coming to a stop, he climbed to his knees, glaring at the now floating wood. "Cheap shit!" His stomach started to growl. Shifting his gaze from the wood to his shirt covered abdomen, he snorted. "So what else is new?"
Checking his watch, Ray pushed a button to light it up. "Fifteen minutes until ten. Shit, that leaves five minutes to get there and ten to scope it out." Slowly, he stood, groaning from the effort on his knees. Slapping his legs, he tried to get the blood flowing through them again. "Too damned long on a fucking frozen dock!"
He limped and gasped his way to the street. There was no traffic and no sign of a cab. Muttering to himself, Ray walked on. The streets were bare, not even the usual bums and riffraff were out. After the third block of silence, he started to mutter to himself.
"Keep on walking, Turnbull. Ain't nothin wrong with the streets. Just too damned cold. Keep going, just a few more blocks to the restaurant." His steady pace was hampered by the continual growl of his stomach. After one particularly loud one, he rubbed his stomach. "Patience, my pet, soon we eat."
Just as the silence had been deafening, the sudden noise of when he hit China Town made him cringe and cover his ears. There were too many people for his liking, but it made covering his presence easier. In the end, that was what mattered, even if it did make him want to climb the walls. Ray put his hands in his pockets, slouching into his jacket before starting off in a quick stroll.
He glanced about the stalls and the people, making special note of people who stood out. Especially one in particular person in red serge. "Damn it!" Spotting Turnbull and, not far behind, Fraser, Ray adjusted his walking style and picked up the pace. Hoping that it was enough, he walked further in the direction of pick up point.
However, his luck started to turn sour as Renfield crossed the street and headed in his direction. He stopped at a stall, casually lookin around, picking through the clothes featuring rip offs of name brands. Flipping through them, Ray kept a discreet eye on the Mountie as he walked past.
A quick check to his watch let him know that he was already behind schedule. Closing his eyes, he stilled himself as the familiar scent assaulted his nostrils. His former lover was right behind him. He didn't react when the hand settled on his shoulder like a lead weight.
"I would know you anywhere, Ray."
"Just let me go, Frase. You don't know what is goin on."
"I can't do that."
Ray reached up and gently squeezed his partner's hand. "We worked well together once, Frase." Holding on tight, he brought his watch up to Benton's hand, cracking the face on the Mountie's exposed skin. The clear liquid inside coated Fraser's arm. "Too bad you left me." Turning quickly, he caught the larger man as he slumped forward, eyes blinking. "The toxin will wear off in a few hours. Don't fight it, the pain isn't worth it."
Fraser tried to speak but instead coughed once followed by a gasping wheeze. His eyes widened in shock as he stopped breathing all together.
"You didn't think I would come unprepared did you? You taught me better than that. Our past relationship is the only reason I am letting you live. However, I can't let them think I did, they would use you against me before I left. Say hi to mort for me, won't ya?" Ray let him fall back into the stall of clothes knocking over the merchandise. Looking up in panic, he grabbed the nearest pedestrian. "Call the medics! This guy looks like he is havin a heart attack!"
Through the panic and gawkers rushing to see what the commotion caused by his cries were about, Ray pushed forward towards his destination. He checked the hands on the now faceless watch and cursed. Ten minutes until the pick up time, that means he had to go the next four blocks unscathed or he would miss any chance to do surveillance. His senses were on overload has he scanned the crowds.
Too many people.
It wasn't healthy for his situation. The congestion of pedestrians forced him to go into the street in order to move faster. Cars honked when he jumped in their way. Dodge a dodge, clip a camaro, and basically play pinball through the slow moving traffic. Despite the electric feel of the crowds, nothing moved fast in China Town.
Finally, he reached the block of the Ming Dynasty. Years of finely honed instincts scanned the perimeter. Two guards outside the restaurant smoking, their cigarettes already piling up in the buckets provided by the establishment. Another two across the street, one on the corner, two on the roofs, one on each side of the street. A quick glance down the alley way revealed one hunkered down by the dumpster and one in the back corner where it and another alley intersected.
Too many for an extraction team.
He hadn't needed to scan the inside of the restaurant to know there would probably be an equal amount inside. Eighteen men and women to secure a recon team was over kill. There was no doubt in his mind Ripley and he were leaving Chicago alive. After all, the organization only sent this large of a team for one mission and one mission only.
Operation KGB.
There would be no witnesses, no survivors, and no bodies.
Fighting back tears of frustration, Ray brought up the collar of his jacket. Turning to go, he came face to barrel with a six shot revolver. The hammer was pulled back and a finger was squeezing the trigger. Ray closed his eyes in resignation, lowering his head.
"Sorry, Ray, word is you've been compromised."
"You think I am in league with Burke?" His growled question dripped with hatred.
"It doesn't matter what I think. All the committee knows is that everyone else involved with this case has been silenced, permanently."
"What everyone else? There was no fuckin body but me and Ripley! You stupid cock suckers think I would sell out my... Our people for a few pieces of damned silver?"
The dark chuckle from the gun wielding man was silenced with a choked gasp.
Ray's eyes shot open as he looked up. One of the men from the front of the restaurant was now supporting the body of the man who had been holding the revolver. There was no doubt in his mind that the bastard was dead, but it looked like he was just leaning over drunk to the passersby.
The man's partner looked up from under his skull cap, blowing cigarette smoke from his knows like a dragon. His goofy smile belying his deadly intent. "Hello, Ray."
"What the fuck are you doing here, Hudson? I thought you were too damned dumb for a KGB mission."
"He is." The shorter Latin woman glared through darkened goggles at them, the one Ray had thought was a man. "Hudson, get yer ass over here and carry this dumb fuck. He's fuckin heavy!"
"I just love it when you sweet talk me, Vasquez, baby." Slinkin over to his partner's side, the flat top haired man traced a hand down his body slowly. "If you want a piece, you just gotta say so."
"Up yers, dip shit! Just take him already!" Without another word, she foisted the body over on to Hudson, making him scramble to keep it standing. "So, Detective, what the fuck took you so long? I was freezin my tits off out here. I'd say Hudson was freezin his nuts off, but we all know he ain't got any! Hear that cuntson?"
"Oh... yeah, lover. Geeze, what the fuck they feed this guy? Seems the cell's assassins are gettin kinda fat."
"You'd know."
"Keep it up and I'll show ya a fat one." Hudson grabbed himself through his dark pants, shakin his dick at her.
"Oh please, you ain't got nothin I've seen before, mainly cause I'd need a microscope!"
"What the fuck is goin on here?" Ray nearly screamed at them. He had been glancing between them during their bickering, growing more impatient and angrier by the second.
"Ooooo, looks like the ice princess of the north is gettin tes..." Hudson's voice was cut off as a pale hand with black nails gripped his wind pipe. Dropping the body, he reached for the hand, stopping when it clinched tighter.
"Still haven't learned to just shut up, Hudson?"
Vasquez smiled at the woman holding her partner by the throat. "Hey, Ripley, heard you were dead! Bitch's got more lives then a fuckin cat!" She slapped Ray on the arm. "Lucky you got stuck with her too."
Wincing from the hit, Ray glared at her. "Why don't you call the feds while you are at it? You and Hudson both, think you can possibly be any louder?"
"We are just excited about seein you again, princess, no reason to get yer corset in a bind."
"Blow it out your ass, Vasquez. Ripley let his ignorant ass go before you kill him. We don't need another body to deal with."
Ripley glanced over at Ray, then went back to staring Hudson in the eyes. She smiled as his own bulged from lack of air. "It would be so easy, just a quick pinch."
"Yeah, and then you could take it up with the committee about why... You know what, just kill him. That way the committee can stop coverin up his mistakes and Vasquez can get an intelligent partner for a change." Ray's grin went completely feral as Hudson sent him a pleading look. "So quick, painful too."
"Yo, what the hell has gotten into you two? You actin like a couple vamps from some bad movie based on an Anne Rice novel." Vasquez pulled a hand gun from her coat, taking aim at them. "You just best let him go, Ripley and both of yas takes a step back, now."
Blinking, Ray cocked his head at her. "I suggest you point that else where before I shove it so far up your ass you will be tasting gun oil." He turned back to Ripley, grinning slowly as she trailed a finger down the gasping man's throat.
"Then tell psycho bitch to let him go. Hudson ain't much of a man, let alone a partner, but he's all I got." Vasquez pulled the hammer back on her glock. "Don't make me shoot ya, Ray, we go too far back for this to end over somethin as stupid as Hudson."
This time both Ray and Ripley looked at the shorter armed woman. Her gun was aimed at Ray, pointing directly to his heart.
"This close and I can't miss."
Ripley put a quick kiss on Hudson's neck, using teeth to mark him, before stepping back.
When she let go, Hudson dropped to the ground clutching his throat. Panting, he sent daggers towards the others as they started laughing.
Vasquez turned her gun up showing the grip. "No clip, dumb ass. That'll teach ya to fuck and tell." Glancing to her co-conspirators, she jerked her head back towards the entrance of the Hong Dynasty. "Hicks and the others are inside. Sorry about the added security but it is kinda necessary. Hicks can explain better when we get the fuck outta this cold."
"What..." Hudson wheezed, "was that?"
"Oh, that, you mean the thing with the gun, Ripley, and me?" Ray gestured towards the others. "That was nothing, you should see what we did to Sal after he stole Ripley's underwear on the Tai mission."
Smirking at the fuming man, Ripley walked around him to stand in front of him. "What a waste, at least Sal pissed himself before Vasquez started to threaten him. Need a hand up?" Bending down, she gripped Hudson by the balls, helping him to his feet the hard way. "Nope, not brass."
"He's full of hot air, shoots blanks and hot air. At least he better be shootin blanks! Do somethin useful and dispose of the body." Sending one last glare towards Hudson, Vasquez marched her way into the Hong Dynasty. The door flew open under her forceful shove, causing the bells to jingle loudly. "Honey, we're home!"
At Vasquez's intrusion, nine heads turned to face them, all sporting flat tops. A tall, blonde man with a runner's physic stood up from a booth near the kitchen. As he left the booth, he was followed by two large men with a more muscles then brains appearance.
The man stopped in front of Vasquez, a tightly controlled expression on his face. "If I didn't pay our hosts to hold a private party, you could have blown the whole thing with your loud mouth."
"Take a chill pill, Hicks, da bitches have arrived." She gestured towards Ripley and Ray, bowing grandly before backing away. "A pale vampire, and shaggy blonde with a sweet ass, just exactly as you ordered." As she slipped past Ray on her way out, she slapped him on the butt. "Yep, sweet ass."
Hicks shook his head, laughing at them. Clearing his throat, he took on his somber face again. The few feet that separated him, Ray and Ripley were quickly crossed when she launched herself into Hick's arms. He was frozen in shock while her hands roved over him, pressing in places that went beyond casual. His body was still stiff as Ripley broke the lip lock, taking a step back. "Well," he took a deep breath, "good to see you too, Lieutenant."
Ripley backed up to stand next to Ray. Turning her head to the side, she sub vocally whispered to him. "He's clean."
Ray nodded once as he wrapped his arms around Ripley, bring them into a lover's embrace. His reply was whispered in her ear. "The others aren't. Check out the obvious bulges."
"I noticed that. Do you think they are here to retrieve us or kill us."
"I haven't decided yet. There are too many to be a normal retrieval team, yet with current circumstances..."
"Understood. Options?"
"Play along until they show their intentions. Things start to get screwed, you jump ship while I play wounded bird."
Ripley quickly glanced over the seven men and two women in the restaurant. "Agreed."
"Good." Stepping back from Ripley, Ray offered a genial smile. Walking up to Hicks, he made sure to keep his stance non threatening, arms wide in an open display. He stopped just in front of the other man. For a moment all they did was stare into each other's eyes assessing the other. Before anyone could move, he reached out, wrapping the man in an embrace.
Hicks brought his arms up quickly returning the hug. When the guards made for their weapons, Hicks shook his hand at them in a dismissive gesture. Holding on tight to the other man, Hicks backed them up towards the booth. He motioned for Ripley to follow as Ray held on for dear life.
Ray loosened his hold when he heard their boots hit the booth. Smiling slyly to the other man was all he got out before Hicks pulled him back into the booth and consequently his arms.
"I think you've fallen for me, Ray."
"Hardy har har, Dwayne," emphasis on the man's name.
"What's the matter, Stan, don't like my jokes?" Feigning shock, Hicks pushed Ray into a sitting position beside him. "You hurt my feelings!"
"That won't be the only thing hurt if you don't get yer hand off my ass."
"What happened to 'my ass is yours anytime, pal'?" Hicks gave him an extra squeeze.
"Didn't you hear?" Cigar smoke was blown across the table as a muscle bound black man in fatigues straddled a chair next to the booth. "Ole Kowalski hear got himself hitched two months ago."
Glancing between the man and Ray, Hicks gave the blonde an amused stare. "Is that right? You got yourself an old lady?"
"Old lady, nuthin. That bitch Stella was just a cover, you oughta know that by now, Hicky. The man's been in your bed more times then the Russians have violated the Geneva Convention."
"Fuck you, Apone, I should have known if someone could screw up an operation this simple, it would be you." Ray leaned forward glaring at the cat calls he got from the men and women. "What the hell kinda operation are you running? Two teams? You know that goes against standard operating procedures." He paused for a moment to make Apone aware he had already worked this out. "Unless you are planning on killing us."
"Now wait just a damn minute, no body has said anything about killing anyone. We are just a few friends getting together for some nice Chinese food." Apone clamped down on his half burnt cigar while glaring at Ray.
"I swear if you get me killed, my husband will hunt you down. In fact, he is out side as we speak."
"No shit?" Hicks' eyebrows rose towards his hair. "You finally married that glacier emotioned bastard with the blue eyes?"
"Get with the times, Hicky, that man dropped his ass four years ago."
Hicks frowned. "Then who..."
"Is trackin his ass like a blood hound? The other one, the much younger one. Tall as Paul Bunyan, hung like Babe, the Big Blue Ox." He finished with a wide grin and chuckle as he leaned forward to slap Ray on the shoulder. "Yes, he landed him one of them pure as the driven snow, honest to god, queen fearin, Mounties."
For his part, Hicks seemed suitably impressed before he busted out into a big grin. Turning his charms on Ray, he winked. "So, think you and the new beau are willing to go for a little extra marital activities?"
"Fuck you, Dwayne. I hate you all, especially you, Apone." Glaring at the larger man's deep belly laugh, Ray turned to the grinning Ripley as she sat next to him. "What've we got, jokers or jokes?"
"Oh definitely jokes."
"See, I knew it, incompetence." Ray reached over the table and flicked Apone in the hair. "You make too many sloppy mistakes. If the bunch of spooks hanging around the area like vultures didn't set off people's radars, the hair cut's would. It looks like an Apocalypse Now convention in here. Any moment I expect Brando to come walking out of the kitchen holdin an egg role and mumbling about an offer I can't refuse."
"You got your movies mixed up, Ray."
"What's it matter, they got a fat Brando in them. Either way, you still screwed up. Why didn't you just make a big neon sign that says 'secret meeting place'?"
"As much as I am enjoying your colorful spiel, Kowalski, we gotta show to run."
"I know that, Hicks! And it is Turnbull now."
"Told ya, Ox!" Apone wiggled his eyebrows.
"Enough, Sarge." Hicks sighed. "We gotta get some information from you, both of you, before we can get the hell out of here. Now think, were you followed, besides your Mountie, that is?"
Ripley shook her head. "No, Ray?"
"I had both Fraser and Ren on my ass comin here. Don't ask me how they found me, and no, it wasn't a bug, the feds would have been on us by now."
"Not necessarily. They want to take us all out, not just a few teams and a witness." Ripley cut in with a questioning look.
"They wouldn't have sent the Mounties. Besides, Frase tracked his dad's killers two thousand miles, don't underestimate him."
"Whoa, two of them? That is going to be a problem."
"No, it ain't, I took care of Frase when he spotted me through my disguise and attempts at walking differently. By the way, Hicks, I need a new watch." Ray took off the broken watch and tossed it to the man. "We know it should make him play opossum for about half the night, but with his constitution we might have two may be three hours at the most."
"What the fuck kinda men are these?" Another man came up behind the table, his stern features belying his shock.
"Eloquent as always, Frost." Ripley's snide remark caused the young man to stammer and blush. "If you haven't been paying attention, they are Mounties."
"What makes them so special, Lieutenant?"
Ripley raised an eyebrow at the shy tone in the young man's voice. "Apparently the Mounties are more than just a police force. They are trained in a number of ways to be better than the average navy seal. Corporal Fraser is no exception. Think Superman in red Serge."
"Yeah, they too can fly and leap over tall buildings, or at least Fraser thinks he can," Ray muttered.
"Be that as it may, we still have a limited time frame here and another Mountie to be careful of. So back to the matter at hand. Ripley, you were sent on this mission for a reason, were you able to infiltrate the group?"
"Yes, it took longer than we anticipated, however I am sure I got enough information to counter act Burke's betrayal ten fold."
Apone clapped her on the shoulder. "About damned time somethin went our way."
"Later, Sarge. Ripley, since you are aware of Burke's betrayal I can assume Kow... Turnbull filled you in?"
"We had time enough. What was the final body count?" Ray slipped his hand under the table to grip Ripley's to offer support.
Hicks showed visible restraint as he leaned back, his features contorting in anger. "Thirty teams, five operations, and an entire division of the organization were lost before our operatives diverted their attention else where. Which cost the Organization a great deal of time and resources, I might add. They want this one, you are both key in this one." Balling his fists, he looked away.
"What aren't you telling us?"
"Nothing that you need worry about, Ray."
"That's bull shit, Hicks, we go back a long way, I know you are lying."
"That's okay, Ray, leave him be."
Ray looked at Ripley incredulity. "You can't let this go, Rip, we been on this mission too long. We have sacrificed all we had to get this far. We have the right to know! Now I wanna know, and I want to know now! What in hell is so important that I might have fucked up a second marriage beyond salvage?" When the others wouldn't look at him, Ray let go of Ripley's hand. "So that's it, twenty five years and all we get is the fucking silent treatment. Well I ain't lettin it go like a good little operative, not this time. I got somethin good with Ren, if you can't tell me, then he and I will take ours else where."
"No."
"Fuck you, Dwayne!" Standing, Ray pushed the other man out of the circular booth on to the floor. Making for the door, he pushed Apone out of his way. Others moved to intercept him, but Ray pulled his gun on them. His aim never wavered as a couple followed suit.
"Where are you going to go, Ray?" Hicks dusted off his bottom as he stood. "Get a hold on yourself, operative. Don't let it end like this. We need you too much."
Ray shifted aim slowly from person to person, never looking completely away from them all. "Tell them to drop'em, Hicks."
"That isn't an option. You are needed by the Organization. If you walk out that door, we can't guarantee your safety."
"I've had it with the half truths. I was promised a full mission debriefing when I completed this mission. I've done my share."
"No you haven't. Your mission isn't over yet."
Ray snorted. "Et tu, Ripley?"
"We all have our duty, Ray."
"That was a good one twenty-five years ago when they first told me. It stinks now that I think about it. Besides, I did mine, now I am only asking what I earned from it."
Ripley tried to inch closer but held off when the gun was pointed at him. "That is what we all want. Getting yourself and possibly others killed won't solve anything. Dying senselessly isn't worth it."
This time, he laughed. "Oh, and I supposed being sold out by an intelligence operative then left to hang in the wind when the Organization is too busy is?"
"What are you talking about?" Hicks' voice carried a tone of forced calm.
"Tell her about it, Dwayne, about how this is all worth it. Tell her about while she was out floating in a boat carrying god knows what around with her, the Organization left the Seventh Division out to dry."
"That isn't true."
"Shut the fuck up, Apone! You're really starting to bug me." Inching forward, Ray held out his hand for Ripley. "Come with me or die with these bastards."
"I won't betray the Organization..."
"Think about it, Ripley. We are the only two left. The rest of our division is gone. Since when did they send in the fucking marines to pick up deep cover operatives? How many times when we were with them did our team complete an assignment this simple?"
Ripley froze in place. Her pale features courting in shock as she looked in askance to Hicks. "Is this true?"
"Don't listen to him, Ripley, he doesn't know what he is saying."
Ray switched hands with his gun and pulled back the hammer. "Shut up, Hicks! You know it is true. The only two people who are supposed to be here are Hudson and Vasquez, then again, they knew that. If I hadn't been greeted by them, I would have never come in. We've been had, Ripley. Whatever evidence you got on that boat must have been so fucking priceless. Why else, when they heard about the destruction of your ship, did they leave us out to dry?"
"We didn't leave you out to dry, Ray! The others were already compromised, Burke handed over the information about the Seventh to our enemies personally. Your retrieval team are dead, yes. Hudson and Vasquez aren't because they were out fucking on the south side in some cheap motel when it happened. Please listen to me, we thought you were safe. If you hadn't contacted the Organization with that damned hair brained scheme to look for evidence, they were prepared to let you go. You would have been free to live your own life."
Eyeing him from the side, Ray watched Hicks move forward another step. "You mean they would have let me go, just like that? No strings?"
"Just like that. Your entire division was believed dead, any actions on our part would have put you at risk. They believed you had earned your retirement."
Ray started to laugh. "Almost had me there for a minute, Hicks. Rule number two. The Organization is life, there is no existence beyond the cause, no member is ever free until death, either of the cause or the member."
"Things changed, Ray. You believe what you want, either way you are still coming with us."
"Sorry, Hicks," Ray brought his gun around to bare on the other man. He watched as green eyes widened. Time seemed to slow down as he took aim. In the next instant, all were thrown back when a large truck plowed into the front of the restaurant. Ray was on the ground, pinned from a table having hit and landed on his chest from the impact.
All around him, automatic and hand gun fire resounded. People were screaming in Mandarin and English as he started to cough up blood. Ray felt the world drift away from lack of air. Blessed blackness swallowed his vision. Above him, Ripley and Hicks tried to pull the table off his chest, firing hand guns in between lifts. His final attempt at breathing before the darkness featured Hicks placing a kiss on his lips before fleeing with Ripley out the back.
_____________________________________________________ Part 8 Man has long sought the answers of the great here after.
Ten Hours Later.
Ray's eyes shot open. Gasping for air, his lungs caused a hollow sound. Cold, he was cold. He sat up shivering, grasping the white sheet about him. Never in all his life had he felt so cold.
Glancing down, Ray took in his pale white and blue skin. A small part of his mind rationalized he was suffering from hypothermia. Shivering, he looked around the cold dark room.
He was on a metal examination table in the basement morgue of the 2-7. That much he knew from the details of the room. Around him on the other tables were six other people with the tops of their heads the only things visible. Four he recognized by their hair cuts from the restaurant, one was a rookie detective with no hair, and the last was the Fed that Ripley had shot dead with a cut straight out of the fifties. A smirk graced his lips at that one.
So they thought he was dead.
That made things a little easier. Only a little. Tentatively, he slipped over the edge of the table, then promptly started to curse as he landed on numb legs. Ray leaned against the table in an attempt to stay up until they retained feeling. For some reason he had been laying on the main arteries cutting off blood flow. It took all he had not to scream as feeling returned in a stinging rush.
By the time the pain had become bearable he was bent over the table crying. Some things never got any easier, like waking up in awkward positions with strange people. It took another full minute before he was ready to try walking. Baby steps, awkward and uncoordinated as he held on to the table for support.
At the end of the table, he stopped to get his barings. Across the room, beyond the range of the meat slabs, was Eddie's office. Eddie was the new morgue guy, Morte's assistant. The stiff's possessions would be stored in Eddie's office waiting to be bagged for family to pick up or for evidence. That is where he would need to be if he wanted to get his clothes back.
"All right, you can do this. One foot in front of the other." Closing his eyes, Ray stepped away from the table and let go. When the world didn't explode in pain, he opened them to discover his legs were holding him up, barely. "Okay, now forward, mush, doggies, mush! Fuckin greatness, now I am sounding like a Freak too. I swear, after this Ren and I are goin south, preferably some where warm and away from all things Northern Territories related! Whoa!" Slipping when his foot went wider than his expected step, he fell forward into the door. The door promptly swung in, depositing him on the floor of the office, face first. "God damn it!"
After a moment to nurse his aching body, Ray climbed up on hands and knees. He looked around the office to see the claims desk was covered in gear, weapons, and clothes. Apparently the dead guys were packing enough for a small army.
So why the hell were they taken by surprise? That was something he planned on finding out at the nearest convenience. For now he needed clothes and weapons, lots of weapons. He leaned back on his haunches before using his knees to shove up then stand. Standing fully erect, he glanced around the office for his clothes.
Among all that was visible, his possessions weren't among them. Snorting derisively, took a step forward. Half way through the motion, he swayed as heat suddenly ran through his body. The pain from the previously dormant veins was enough to make him bite his tongue in order to keep silent.
Closing his eyes to the shivering, Ray let the last of the quakes run its course through his body before moving again. It hurt! His body hurt. More pain then he had felt in half a decade. None so much since the six months near the Arctic circle with Fraser.
The thought of the man left a bitter taste in his mouth. Or may be that was the taste of his own blood from his tongue. Spitting in the direction of the waste basket, Ray kept walking towards the desk. Once he got there, he grabbed the uniform of the only person in his size. Judging from the shape of the form fitting leotard, it was a woman.
That wasn't about to stop him because it was fucking cold down there.
Rummaging through her clothes, he made sure there were no stains or other bodily fluids on the ones he would wear. The thermal shirt was out as it had soaked up her blood, but the rest of the uniform, from the weapon's vest down to the knife laced boots was clean. 'Efficient: Even in Death', the Organization's creed.
It took a few minutes due to weakness, but he finally was completely dressed and armed. Ammo clips around his waist, criss crossing his chest. Knives in sheaths on his wrists, all along the inner lining of the bullet proof vest minus one damaged by being pierced by a cop killer. His thighs were strapped with extra hand guns, two were in the dual shoulder holster, one down the back of the pants, one in the left boot, and a shot gun in his hands. Another shot gun down his back like a sword. And to top it all off, a leather trench coat and black metallic sunglasses from the dead fed.
Looking over the bodies as he exited the office, he smirked. "I ahm Bach!" A twitching under one of the sheets was the only response. Raising the shot gun towards the body, he swiftly, yet silently walked to the side of the table. There was another twitch of the sheet.
Ray pulled a knife out of his vest. Using it as a prod, he pulled the sheet back quickly. The body revealed underneath was covered in scratch marks. A rat screeched as it ducked into the man's open mouth.
With a quick slam of Ray's fist into the guy's jaw, the rat was bitten in half, lower legs still kicking as the ass end rolled down his cheek.
"Disgusting little fuckers." He spit in disgust before covering the body once more. Ready to move on, Ray looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary considering the amount of bodies. Then he put the final touches on his escape, the final cover up of his career. There was nothing left for him to do but get the fuck out of dodge.
That was easier done then said, no talking required.
The main entrance was out. That left the service entrance again. Ray cocked cradle on the shot gun then marched towards the door. At the entrance, he paused to kick it open before walking through.
His first sight of the stairs was completely clear. Climbing quickly and cautiously, he moved the gun in time with gaze from side to side, up and down. There was nothing. The entrance was completely unguarded.
It was a kinda let down for him, but he thought it was better that he wasn't discovered. Outside it was still dark. There was enough light for him to see, but not be identified so long as he stayed in the shadows. Hugging the building with each step was his safest route towards the back alleys.
Early morning had left the city cold with a lite frost. Street lights twinkled in the multitude of crystals. The air held a chill that made breathing harder.
By the time Ray had reached the corner ally where he had lost Ripley the first time, his breath was coming in great pants. Something was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling this weak. A few steps further was all he managed before he had to collapse into the shadows of the 27 station house. Sitting down, he put his head between his hands and tried regain some of his rapidly dwindling strength.
As it was, he decided it was probably better that he had collapsed as no sooner then his head was down, then a patrolman's light shown over head. Ray froze in his movements. The cop's walkie blared in the night before the man cursed and turned it down.
"Piece of shit. Way to fucking let the perps know we're here."
"Blow it out your ass, Farino."
"Blow me, Bobbens," came a tired reply.
"After shift is over, you, me, a case of single malt."
"Sounds good to me." The guy chuckled. His heavy footsteps crushed the ice as he walked up the ally. "Can you believe this shit? We got five of their guys, five. Four Does and that fuckin turncoat Kowalski. What do they do? Take out ninety percent of our unit and two thirds of our reinforcements. Unfuckinbelievable."
"We were ill informed of the situation going in. It is understandable."
"Thirty fuckin Feds, dead, in under five minutes! That is understandable. But we got our asses kicked. Next time we just blast the place and collect the bodies from the rubble."
"That may very well be our next move. If we can locate the Organization's splinter cell. Whatever these guys are doing, it isn't part of their people's mandate. Kowalski should never have been involved, he is too old."
"What does that say about us? We ain't much younger."
The woman sighed. "Sometimes I forget you are not younger, Farino. I, however, am not a day over twenty-nine. And I will shoot you before I let you tell anyone differently."
"Whatever floats your boat."
She paused. "Did you hear that?" Cocking her head to the side, she turned towards Ray. "I think something is over there in the ally."
"Where, Bobbens?" Farino flashed his light over the area. "I ain't seein... What the fuck! Ahhhh....!" His scream was cut short as Ray jumped from his crouching position and snapped the man's neck.
Before Bobbens could move to stop him, Ray had turned on her, slicing with a foot long blade through her neck to sever her head. Ray knelt beside her body removing her radio. He placed the receiver in his ear before turning it on.
Static and squeaks greeted him. A moment of adjusting the signal, and he heard a clear voice requesting a check in of all patrols. Five people checked in over the next minute. The voice demanded four others check in, but only more static came through.
"All patrols, return to base immediately! Return, now!"
"Roger thaaahhhhh!" Two others screamed over the radio before silence reigned.
So something was picking off the enemy none to gently. Ray smiled, he could live with that. After cleaning his knife off on the body, he resheathed the weapon. He carefully walked back to the shadows to retrieve his guns, then headed out of the ally.
Once busy streets were now vacant. Even traffic was non existent. Slowly, he walked down the street towards the direction that would take him to the consulate. Getting Ren and leaving Chicago were his only priorities now that Ripley had escaped and the Organization was taking out the opposition. As long as they believed him dead, he was free of both.
Speaking of him being dead, he reached into his vest and pulled out a black cylinder. Popping one end off, he squeezed the red button on the inside. The street beneath him shook while the air rang with sounds of multiple explosions.
Cover up complete.
Putting the cap back on the cylinder, he pushed it back down in his vest and walked on. Whistling, he adopted a casual gate in his step.