New Orders (Razgriz x moonlit raven)

[Razgriz]

Three trucks were traveling slowly down a dirt road deep in the heart of the Colombian jungles; it was sweltering at 95 degrees with eighty percent humidity. The ten soldiers inside each of the trucks, armed with varying automatic assault rifles, automatic shotguns and light machine guns, were helping to guard a very important package. The crime boss 'El Rey' had ordered a girl from an online service. Some troops wondered why they needed to have such protection just for a girl; they were now taking dirt naps.

"Conductor, cuando llegamos a la fortaleza? Quemo en aquí!" (Driver, when are we going to arrive at the stronghold? I'm burning up in here!) one soldier asked; there was a slight pause before the driver then responded "Temprano, temprano. Sé paciente."(Soon, soon. Be patient.) The rest of the soldiers were silent, dead as stone, each of them carrying their own scars of battle over the years they fought for the honor of 'El Rey'. They focused on the mission above all others; and their mission was to transport the girl in the box.

However, one lone man was following them; he'd been tracking them for a couple of weeks now. Dressed in a custom-fashioned ghillie suit for the unique vegetation pattern of the Columbian ecosystem, this was one Marcus Altar Redwin, codename 'Hawkeye' for this assignment. His combat boots treaded lightly through the dense brush and foliage of this sub-tropical terrain as he kept after the transport. He was a CIA agent, one of the best. 'El Rey' was #1 on the CIA 'Dead' list: meaning this guy was going to die today, for that was this man's orders. Kill every hostile at the fortress and take the girl to extraction with him.

He carried on his back the tool that would bring 'El Rey' down for good: A Cheytac M200 Intervention sniper rifle, fitted with custom-made 20 round magazines loaded with armor-piercing .408 Cheytac rounds, a specialized muzzle brake that eliminated the flash, and 20x variable zoom optics. His secondary weapon was a M9 double-action pistol fitted with a suppressor and loaded with high-velocity round, strapped to his thigh. A combat/survival knife was strapped to a boot holster for CQC. He also carried other equipment on bandolier straps over his ghillie suit: concussion grenades across his broad chest, claymores on his waist, pouches for his magazines and other various things one would need in the battlefield.

Under that ghillie suit was a powerfully built man, standing an even six feet tall, possessing chocolate-brown hair in a military 'jarhead' cut. Piercing blue eyes that stared from under the hood of the ghillie suit spoke volumes about his track record; this was a man who killed and never, ever flinched. The scar over his left eye and another that was in a crescent moon shape down the right side of his face. And while no one would see it, his body was a storyboard of self-reliance and a dangerous attitude. His superiors ordered radio silence until he'd reached the destination, so he just tracked them like a hunter would its prey. The trucks approached a very heavy set of gates; it was here Marcus split from his path to take up a new position.

Marcus eventually reached his destination; a very narrow outcropping of rock overlooking the fortress. It was the ideal position; thick trees covered his body and rifle, and the canyon walls around would make backtracking the report of the rifle next to impossible. He had set some of his claymores behind him just in case anyone happened to stumble across his location; no sense in taking an unnecessary risk.

Quickly setting up the rifle, he loaded a fresh magazine, but didn't push the bolt in. He took a special bullet from a back pocket and chambered the round; this one was an anti-personnel round meant for 'El Rey' himself. He then used an invisible laser rangefinder and quickly made several notes. After making some quick adjustments to the zoom factor, windage and bullet drop compensators in his scope, he pressed the butt of the rifle into his massive shoulder and peered down the sight. He was pretty far away from the fortress itself, but his scope let him see every detail as if he were standing right in front of it. Ten guards in the courtyard, three snipers on the roof, who knows how many more inside, and El Rey himself.

Taking a hand-held radio, he called in his location, the baritone nature of his voice becoming apparent. "Big Papa, this is Hawkeye. Reporting arrival at Overwatch Alpha, over." There was a moment of static before a crackling was heard and a lighter voice replied, "Roger, Hawkeye. Give us a sitrep, over." Marcus watched as the soldiers and cargo were unloaded from the trucks; ammunition crates, boxes of miscellaneous supplies, and finally one bright-red crate that stood out from the rest.

"The transport's just entering the compound now. I count thirty armed soldiers and one red crate leaving the trucks. Ten guards already present in courtyard, three snipers on the roof. Confirm red wooden crate with Columbian flag insignia possessing an overlay of a skull wearing a crown as target, Big Papa. Over" "Roger, Hawkeye. That's the one. Remember, it's weapons free on all hostiles. Watch your fire around the girl, Hawkeye. She's a civvie, so it's weapons off for her."

"I know the drill, Big Papa. Hawkeye out." Marcus then set himself back behind his rifle, knowing that he was perfectly camouflaged from prying enemy eyes and guns.

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori had long since stopped complaining during her ride. Her current keepers' only concern had clearly been to get her from point A to B without damage. She had awoken a few hours ago, sore and still dazed from the drugs that had knocked her out for the long journey. The crate was cramped, and the ride was bumpy, leaving her backside slightly bruised every time they went over a root or pot hole in the road. She had whined to her keepers' to be let out, to stretch and to get more comfortable, and maybe some fresh air, but they apparently ignored her (she couldn't see them after all). She wasn't even sure they understood her.

She sighed, playing with her toes. The neko knew she was a valuable commodity. Nekos were rare finds, and she was what one would call exceptional. Beautiful long limbs and the body of a dancer, and soft curves that caught any man's eye. Soft, long locks of silvery-white hair ran down her back with matching furry ears and tail. Her eyes were bright and silver, her skin pale and perfectly smooth. The added bonus that many of the bidders of her purchase desired though was her virginity; she was pure and untouched. Like finding a flawless diamond, Sayori was exceptionally beautiful, and was sold at an exceptional price. Which was why she was now being to heavily guarded. She closed her eyes, hoping that her new life might be better now that she had been sold. It couldn't get any worse, after all.

 

[Razgriz]

The soldiers all unloaded themselves from the trucks and formed two neat lines; two lines of twenty well-armed, well-armored soldiers that stood ready. One stood in the middle at one end of the line of men; this was the right-hand man of El Rey, 'El Diablo'. A fitting name, given his ruthlessness in combat and near everything else El Rey ran. Orders were conveyed and carried out through El Diablo only, no exceptions. El Diablo was the sole responsibility for ensuring the smooth running of El Rey's drug smuggling, weapons dealing, and other various 'practices'. "Vaya a El Rey y digale que su paquete esta aqui!" (Go to El Rey and tell him his package is here!) he then shouted at one of the servants, who bowed quickly and ran inside to retrieve the boss. He wandered up and down the rows of soldiers, a gold-plated RPK fitted with a drum magazine in his hands.

It wasn't five minutes later that two servants opened the front doors to the luxurious estate; out strolled a rather portly man who obviously spared no expense to upkeep his hedonistic lifestyle. Lounging clothes of the finest silk and cotton, a Cuban cigar in one hand and a bottle of the highest quality tequila in the other. His fat fingers and neck were adorned with rings and jewelry of nothing less than the finest craftsmanship; reflective shades hid his eyes. A gold-plated Desert Eagle .44 Magnum was in a vaquero-style thigh holster; that was his beauty, the weapon the locals called "La Muerte". A servant walked along side him, holding an umbrella over his head to keep the high noon sun off of him. That, for the servants, was one of the highest honors they could achieve, next to being an addition to El Rey's harem of course. That was the fate slated for this girl.

El Diablo then saluted his boss; a symbol of his ever-lasting devotion to El Rey and his genius. "Viva El Rey! Regalero del Inframundo Colombiano!" (Long live El Rey! Ruler of the Columbian Underworld!) he then cried out; this was repeated unanimously by the forty troops standing behind him. El Rey just smiled and replied, "My friend, no need to be so formal. This is a joyous day; I get to enjoy one of the rarest pleasures on the planet, and afterwards, you all may enjoy her too! After all, you helped get her here!" The men cried in joy; clearly they were ready to have some fun with this girl. El Rey then said to his friend "Could you open the crate, please? I would like to see my prize." El Diablo simply nodded and shouted at two of his soldiers to pry the crate open. They took a crowbar to it and easily broke the lid. El Rey meandered over and peered inside the crate; his fat lips twisted into a sick grin of the utmost perversion. "Ah, she's even better than I imagined. And you're sure she's untouched?" El Diablo nodded, "Yes, her virginity is very much intact. Her first time is all yours, El Rey."

El Rey smiled at this; this was the best thing to happen to him in a while. "Very good. But the lighting sucks." He then turned to two of his soldiers and said, "You two! Bring her out of the crate! I want to see my prize in good light!" Two soldiers then went over to the crate and grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulders and pulled her out for all the soldiers to see. They never saw her when she was first picked up in Venezuela; many were shocked by the girl's appearance. 'El Rey', however, just smiled that disgusting smile as the soldiers held the girl in place for him to examine. He took off his glasses and had them clipped to the side of his lounging shirt; after taking a last drag of his cigar and flicking the butt aside, he used one of his fatty, jewel-adorned hands to cup the girl's chin and force her to look at him.

His eyes were cold and heartless; there would be no pleasure for her. She lived only to serve him now, and he would be sure to reinforce that lesson as much as necessary. "Ah, such a beautiful specimen. You know, girl, you should be pleased. Your virginity will be taken by the most powerful man in Columbia.....me." She would smell the stench of booze on his breath; that was the third bottle of tequila he drank today. He then gave a chuckle, one that surely send shivers down her spine.

Marcus, meanwhile, was watching all this unfold. The crate unfortunately blocked his path as he confirmed the identity of the target with his command. When he saw the girl, however, he paused; what the hell was that? Marcus didn't have time to call it in, or rather he was too busy trying to refocus on 'El Rey' and his right-hand man. He'd chew out intel for dropping the ball later. Unfortunately, the fat bastard was too close to the girl for him to take the shot without killing her. Part of him strongly urged him to shoot anyway; he had no connection to this girl, and El Rey's death was instrumental to him. "No women, no children. Even if they are part cat." he growled as he waited for 'El Rey' to move.

 

[moonlit raven]

The soldiers all unloaded themselves from the trucks and formed two neat lines; two lines of twenty well-armed, well-armored soldiers that stood ready. One stood in the middle at one end of the line of men; this was the right-hand man of El Rey, 'El Diablo'. A fitting name, given his ruthlessness in combat and near everything else El Rey ran. Orders were conveyed and carried out through El Diablo only, no exceptions. El Diablo was the sole responsibility for ensuring the smooth running of El Rey's drug smuggling, weapons dealing, and other various 'practices'. "Vaya a El Rey y digale que su paquete esta aqui!" (Go to El Rey and tell him his package is here!) he then shouted at one of the servants, who bowed quickly and ran inside to retrieve the boss. He wandered up and down the rows of soldiers, a gold-plated RPK fitted with a drum magazine

It wasn't five minutes later that two servants opened the front doors to the luxurious estate; out strolled a rather portly man who obviously spared no expense to upkeep his hedonistic lifestyle. Lounging clothes of the finest silk and cotton, a Cuban cigar in one hand and a bottle of the highest quality tequila in the other. His fat fingers and neck were adorned with rings and jewelry of nothing less than the finest craftsmanship; reflective shades hid his eyes. A gold-plated Desert Eagle .44 Magnum was in a vaquero-style thigh holster; that was his beauty, the weapon the locals called "La Muerte". A servant walked along side him, holding an umbrella over his head to keep the high noon sun off of him. That, for the servants, was one of the highest honors they could achieve, next to being an addition to El Rey's harem of course. That was the fate slated for this girl.

El Diablo then saluted his boss; a symbol of his ever-lasting devotion to El Rey and his genius. "Viva El Rey! Regalero del Inframundo Colombiano!" (Long live El Rey! Ruler of the Columbian Underworld!) he then cried out; this was repeated unanimously by the forty troops standing behind him. El Rey just smiled and replied, "My friend, no need to be so formal. This is a joyous day; I get to enjoy one of the rarest pleasures on the planet, and afterwards, you all may enjoy her too! After all, you helped get her here!" The men cried in joy; clearly they were ready to have some fun with this girl. El Rey then said to his friend "Could you open the crate, please? I would like to see my prize." El Diablo simply nodded and shouted at two of his soldiers to pry the crate open. They took a crowbar to it and easily broke the lid. El Rey meandered over and peered inside the crate; his fat lips twisted into a sick grin of the utmost perversion. "Ah, she's even better than I imagined. And you're sure she's untouched?" El Diablo nodded, "Yes, her virginity is very much intact. Her first time is all yours, El Rey."

El Rey smiled at this; this was the best thing to happen to him in a while. "Alright, but the lighting sucks." He then turned to two of his soldiers and said, "You two! Bring her out of the crate! I want to see my prize in good light!" Two soldiers then went over to the crate and grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulders and pulled her out for all the soldiers to see. They never saw her when she was first picked up in Venezuela; many were shocked by the girl's appearance. 'El Rey', however, just smiled that disgusting smile as the soldiers held the girl in place for him to examine. He took off his glasses and had them clipped to the side of his lounging shirt; after taking a last drag of his cigar and flicking the butt aside, he used one of his fatty, jewel-adorned hands to cup the girl's chin and force her to look at him.

His eyes were cold and heartless; there would be no pleasure for her. She lived only to serve him now, and he would be sure to reinforce that lesson as much as necessary. "Ah, such a beautiful specimen. You know, girl, you should be pleased. Your virginity will be taken by the most powerful man in Columbia.....me." She would smell the stench of booze on his breath; that was the third bottle of tequila he drank today. He then gave a chuckle, one that surely send shivers down her spine.

Marcus, meanwhile, was watching all this unfold. The crate unfortunately blocked his path as he confirmed the identity of the target with his command. When he saw the girl, however, he paused; what the hell was that? Marcus didn't have time to call it in, or rather he was too busy trying to refocus on 'El Rey' and his right-hand man. He'd chew out intel for dropping the ball later. Unfortunately, the fat bastard was too close to the girl for him to take the shot without killing her. Part of him strongly urged him to shoot anyway; he had no connection to this girl, and El Rey's death was instrumental to him. "No women, no children. Even if they are part cat." he growled as he waited for 'El Rey' to move.

Sayori's ears twisted atop her head as she heard voices once more. Many, sounding off at the same time, that made her feel a little cold even in this insane heat. She was still, her breath silent. English now, she heard, from a thick, syrupy voice.

 

[moonlit raven]

The soldiers all unloaded themselves from the trucks and formed two neat lines; two lines of twenty well-armed, well-armored soldiers that stood ready. One stood in the middle at one end of the line of men; this was the right-hand man of El Rey, 'El Diablo'. A fitting name, given his ruthlessness in combat and near everything else El Rey ran. Orders were conveyed and carried out through El Diablo only, no exceptions. El Diablo was the sole responsibility for ensuring the smooth running of El Rey's drug smuggling, weapons dealing, and other various 'practices'. "Vaya a El Rey y digale que su paquete esta aqui!" (Go to El Rey and tell him his package is here!) he then shouted at one of the servants, who bowed quickly and ran inside to retrieve the boss. He wandered up and down the rows of soldiers, a gold-plated RPK fitted with a drum magazine in his hands.

It wasn't five minutes later that two servants opened the front doors to the luxurious estate; out strolled a rather portly man who obviously spared no expense to upkeep his hedonistic lifestyle. Lounging clothes of the finest silk and cotton, a Cuban cigar in one hand and a bottle of the highest quality tequila in the other. His fat fingers and neck were adorned with rings and jewelry of nothing less than the finest craftsmanship; reflective shades hid his eyes. A gold-plated Desert Eagle .44 Magnum was in a vaquero-style thigh holster; that was his beauty, the weapon the locals called "La Muerte". A servant walked along side him, holding an umbrella over his head to keep the high noon sun off of him. That, for the servants, was one of the highest honors they could achieve, next to being an addition to El Rey's harem of course. That was the fate slated for this girl.

El Diablo then saluted his boss; a symbol of his ever-lasting devotion to El Rey and his genius. "Viva El Rey! Regalero del Inframundo Colombiano!" (Long live El Rey! Ruler of the Columbian Underworld!) he then cried out; this was repeated unanimously by the forty troops standing behind him. El Rey just smiled and replied, "My friend, no need to be so formal. This is a joyous day; I get to enjoy one of the rarest pleasures on the planet, and afterwards, you all may enjoy her too! After all, you helped get her here!" The men cried in joy; clearly they were ready to have some fun with this girl. El Rey then said to his friend "Could you open the crate, please? I would like to see my prize." El Diablo simply nodded and shouted at two of his soldiers to pry the crate open. They took a crowbar to it and easily broke the lid. El Rey meandered over and peered inside the crate; his fat lips twisted into a sick grin of the utmost perversion. "Ah, she's even better than I imagined. And you're sure she's untouched?" El Diablo nodded, "Yes, her virginity is very much intact. Her first time is all yours, El Rey."

El Rey smiled at this; this was the best thing to happen to him in a while. "Very good. But the lighting sucks." He then turned to two of his soldiers and said, "You two! Bring her out of the crate! I want to see my prize in good light!" Two soldiers then went over to the crate and grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulders and pulled her out for all the soldiers to see. They never saw her when she was first picked up in Venezuela; many were shocked by the girl's appearance. 'El Rey', however, just smiled that disgusting smile as the soldiers held the girl in place for him to examine. He took off his glasses and had them clipped to the side of his lounging shirt; after taking a last drag of his cigar and flicking the butt aside, he used one of his fatty, jewel-adorned hands to cup the girl's chin and force her to look at him.

His eyes were cold and heartless; there would be no pleasure for her. She lived only to serve him now, and he would be sure to reinforce that lesson as much as necessary. "Ah, such a beautiful specimen. You know, girl, you should be pleased. Your virginity will be taken by the most powerful man in Columbia.....me." She would smell the stench of booze on his breath; that was the third bottle of tequila he drank today. He then gave a chuckle, one that surely send shivers down her spine.

Marcus, meanwhile, was watching all this unfold. The crate unfortunately blocked his path as he confirmed the identity of the target with his command. When he saw the girl, however, he paused; what the hell was that? Marcus didn't have time to call it in, or rather he was too busy trying to refocus on 'El Rey' and his right-hand man. He'd chew out intel for dropping the ball later. Unfortunately, the fat bastard was too close to the girl for him to take the shot without killing her. Part of him strongly urged him to shoot anyway; he had no connection to this girl, and El Rey's death was instrumental to him. "No women, no children. Even if they are part cat." he growled as he waited for 'El Rey' to move.

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori's ears twisted atop her head as she heard voices once more. Many, sounding off at the same time now, that made her feel a little cold even in this insane heat. She was still, her breath silent. She heard English now, from a thick, syrupy voice. His words made her even colder. She would be shared, with every man here? Her heart dropped into her stomach as she processed what that meant. Instinct took over and she thrashed, trying to escape. She heard a crack of the crate being opened and two pairs of hand roughly pulling her out out into the bright sunlight.

Sayori in the sunlight seems unreal. Her pale skin and silvery hair and fur seemed to shimmer in the light. She truly was a diamond. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, a man before her coming into focus. His appearance matched his voice. The stench of alcohol and cigar smoke made her stomach turn. She flinched as he reached for her to lift her chin. Her eyes dropped, refusing to look at him, her gaze instead dropping down to his hand. The wealth on his pinkie finger was more than she had ever seen. This sickening man was her master? Her ears folded back against her head. He was probably one of the most disgusting humans she had come across, and considering where she came from, that was saying something. Her eyes widened as he spoke again, the thought of him touching again her making her skin crawl.

No, this couldn't be happening. Her breath was fast and her knees grew weak. She wanted out, out of this jungle, away from these terrible man. She trashed, the men holding her having no problem keeping the young neko in their grasp.

Sayori took it back, the crate was better than this.

 

[Razgriz]

Little did Marcus know the strange cat-girl felt the same kind of resentment towards El Rey that he did; the man was a pig, through and through. Women whom he had broken through constant rape and degradation became servants to the house El Rey lived in. They followed him without question, letting him and his men have their way with them any time they wanted. It was a disgusting fate; Marcus would do the best he could to get them all out, but he doubted any of them would leave the mansion. Marcus grimaced with sheer disgust; this 'man' was no man. He was a demon, a disgusting spawn of the foulest creatures from hell. "You sick fat fucking bastard" Marcus growled; his trigger finger itched to just end him right now. But he needed 'El Rey' to step away from the girl, even if only for a second.

El Diablo joined El Rey, taking up position behind the girl and unknowingly stepping into Marcus' sights. The man was a giant, almost seven feet tall and extremely broad of shoulder; he blocked Marcus' view of El Rey. He then rested his massive hands on the girl's shoulders, chuckling as she tried to futilely escape. "Don't struggle, my dear. You should feel honored; 'El Rey' is the greatest man alive. You should be proud to have your virginity taken by him; it's not every day he gets to enjoy a such forbidden and rare pleasure such as yourself. He went through a lot of trouble and paid a lot of money to have you. And who knows, maybe if your body allows, you'll be his first breeder. Just think, you'll be given the privilege to bear the next generation of glorious leaders. You seem like the type who could give birth to many healthy children. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" It was clear that this girl's life would be hell if this was allowed to continue; luckily she unknowingly had a guardian to help get her out of there. El Rey then made the fatal mistake of revealing his head's location with respect to El Diablo's torso; a straight shot through the heart would nail El Rey right in his fat ugly head. 'El Diablo' then moved just enough for Marcus to tell where the girl's head was; the shot would miss her completely, though she might be traumatized a bit by having bits of a man's internal organs and blood raining down on top of her. Acceptable losses.

Marcus saw this golden opportunity and lined up his shot; he then muttered "Mueranse" (Die) before pulling the trigger, feeling the rifle kick hard against his shoulder as a thunder-clap like sound reverberated throughout the valley. The bullet spun through the air, serpentining slightly as humidity, wind, and even its own spin drift caused it to seem to home in on its targets. The bullet struck 'El Diablo' just inside of his left shoulder blade, blowing out his heart and causing a dinner plate sized hole to appear in his chest; 'El Diablo' then fell over on top of the girl, covering her in his dead bleeding corpse. The round then traveled through and struck 'El Rey' right between the eyes after it killed his partner, causing the top half of his head to literally explode in a shower of bone and brain fragments and his body to keel over backwards. The soldiers were stunned, paralyzed with fear as their glorious leaders were killed right in front of them; they then screamed in Spanish and English for the snipers on the roof to find the bastard who killed them.

Marcus just grinned as the two bastards died right before his eyes; he then grumbled "That one was for Molly, you depraved putos." He then refocused on the rooftop shooters; he pulled the bolt back on his rifle and chambered the next round. He then proceeded to lodge the next shot into the trunk artery of Sniper One, causing him to fall from the rooftop and land with a sickening crunch on the ground below. Snipers Two and Three shared his fate; they keeled over dead on the roof as unseen death stripped their bodies of their souls. Marcus was now clear to take out the remaining soldiers; thunderclaps rang out as bullet after bullet was fired, soldiers dropping dead as their armor was penetrated and their life-force extinguished. Empty heated brass piled up next to Marcus as he continued to fire, slamming new clips into the receiver whenever they were emptied. More poured out of the house in droves; they too would be cut down in packs of two, three and sometimes four. Bodies littered the courtyard and blood flowed like fine wine. Soon, after three minutes, thirty-five seconds the final dead count: sixty-three soldiers, 'El Diablo' and 'El Rey'. Only ten remained after the slaughter was complete, their knuckles white with fear as they hid gripping their weapons. They were literally too scared to even move.

"Guess it's time for up-close work." Marcus said lowly before picking up the spent brass and placing it into a pouch on his hip. He then reached down, unholstering his suppressed sidearm and combat knife. Careful not to trip his own claymores, he slung the rifle over his back and made his way as quickly down the fortress as he could; he still had a girl to save and more soldiers to kill. His ghillie suit literally made him a phantom of the forest as he looked around for any suspicious stragglers on his way to the fortress; though it was unlikely that they would come out of hiding for a good while yet after what Marcus just did to them.

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori teared up as the giant man behind her spoke, her silver eyes turning into sad pools. Her body was to be used in unspeakable ways, as if it were no longer her's. However, if she were to bear her new master's children, the joke would be on him. All his heirs would be sterile as a mule. Nature never intended for man and neko to procreate. Numb to the world and barely feeling the giant's hands on her shoulders, Sayori shut out everything around her. Until the rifle sounded.

Time seemed to slow down then. Her fur stood on end from the sudden, loud thunderous sound. It made her heart seize, a painful tightness in her chest from the fear. Her pupils contracted into tiny black points. She felt the blood splatter of the giant coat her back in a beautifully grotesque display of crimson red on white. She heard the bullet passing through the air and saw it rip apart El Ray's skull. She saw fragments of bone and flesh and blood flying in every direction, including some onto her self. She heard the animals of the forest panic and scatter, the birds screaming frightened cries and leaving the canopy of the jungle into the open air. Sayori stood in stunned silence of what she had just witnessed.

The corpses tumble down, the giant falling on top of her. She let out a startled cry as the body knocked her to the ground. She landed on her stomach and it knocked the wind out of her lungs. She felt his blood flowing onto her back and saturating her tail fur and the back of her bikini. It was sickeningly warm and sticky, and filled the air with a sharp metal scent. Sayori thrashed under the body, wiggling out from under it.

More shots rang out, one after another, the thunderous sound filled her ears. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and gave her the strength to escape the dead weight on top of her. She scurried back to the crate, using it as cover from the unknown assailant. This is how I die, she thought. Her breath was ragged, her limbs trembled, and tears leaked from her eyes. In the furthest corners of her consciousness, a small voice spoke. Well, perhaps it's for the best.

 

[Razgriz]

Little did Sayori know that this assailant wasn't her killer, but her guardian angel; though when she would meet him, it was doubtful she'd like him very much at first. Marcus finally reached the compound; they would be expecting him to try and come in from the front, despite the fact the gates were closed and completely unscalable. Fear did weird things to people; however, these were things Marcus could exploit. He reached a wall where he could easily climb. Putting the combat knife in his mouth, he used the creeping thick bunches of vines as ropes to help him ascend the jagged surface.

Once up top, he silently braced himself and looked down for targets. The idiots never once looked up; he eventually found one sitting right beneath him. He quickly dropped down and plunged his knife into the man's neck, causing his blood to fountain out from his severed jugular. He then finished him with his pistol, the gun giving a quiet "Tsu!" as it was fired. Unfortunately, several of the guards must have heard him drop; one of them cried out "Aqui! Aqui!" (Here! Here! and footsteps could be heard as they came to investigate. Marcus ducked behind one of the crates just as the soldiers arrived; one of them must have examined the body and saw the wounds, for another then spoke, obviously choked up with tears, "Esta muerto. Vaya con Dios, mijo" (He's dead. Rest in Peace, my son). Another then said quite fearfully, "Quien hace todo este? Esta persona......Tiene que ser la Parca! Mataranos a todos!" ("Who's doing all this! This person....he has to be the Grim Reaper! He'll kill us all!")

A slap was heard; the crying soldier then said in a gruff, "Calmate, hombre! Los Dioses caen tambien......incluyendo los Dioses de la muerte. Mataremos a el, puedes estar seguro de ese." (Calm yourself, man! Gods fall too.....including the gods of death. We will kill him, you can be sure of that.) The soldier then cried in English, his voice heavy with a Columbian accent, "Where are you, you fucking bastard?! You killed my son, now face me so that I may kill you!" He then yelled "Don't just stand there, idiots! Spread and find him! But leave him alive! I want his head!" Marcus stayed silent, thinking only to himself "You worked for a murdering scumbag, you deserve to know the pain of loss." Marcus unhooked one of the flashbang grenades from his chest bandolier; unhooking the pin with his teeth, he chucked toward the soldiers. The grenade detonated in a blinding explosion of light and sound, several pained cries were heard by the unsuspecting soldiers.

Marcus then ran over to El Diablo's corpse while the soldiers were distracted; he'd last seen the girl be concealed under the corpse and hoped she just stayed there. BUt, that would not be the case. "God fucking dammit, why can't they just stay put?" he growled; he'd find her later. Little did he know she was behind the crate to his right; if she peeked out, she'd see a faceless man covered in moss-like material who clearly wanted these soldiers dead. And if she was smart, she'd stay out of his way.

Now he had some soldiers to exterminate. He grabbed the light machine gun El Diablo carried; he found its drum mag to be full at 75 rounds. Perfect. He then cried out after he readied the machine gun, "Hey, assholes! Come and get me!" A few charged out in the open despite warnings from others; they were soon riddled with bullet holes as the weapon discharged. "I'm gonna find you and shit down your throat, vato!" he heard the crying soldier bellow. Marcus didn't respond as he moved up, dropping the light machine and re-drawing his pistol. He picked up El Reys's handgun and stuffed it into his chest strap. After a few moments and erratic bursts of suppressed and unsuppressed gunfire, nine of the remaining lay dead on the ground, holes in their foreheads and chest and slash and stab wounds along their necks and torsos.

The final soldier came out; his face was one of disgust. "You disgusting bastard, look at what you've done! These men had families, wives, children, loved ones! And you just gunned them down in cold blood! They served El Rey to provide for their families, to make their lives better!" Marcus was stone-dead silent, his mask covering his expressionless face; this man chewing him out had no idea what loss was, even with his son. No, Marcus just stood there, glaring at the man from beneath the confines of his Ghillie hood. "Nothing to say, puto? Well, let me make sure you never say anything ever again!" The soldier raised his gun to fire; however, Marcus was a much faster shot and pumped several very silent pistol shots into the man's legs and arms. The soldier fell over, dropping his gun and crying in pain.

Marcus then strolled over, walking silently and without saying a word, holstering the suppressed M9 and drawing out El Rey's gold-plated Desert Eagle. The soldier peered up at Marcus, groaning and twisting slightly as he tried to move. However, his limbs no longer worked and it wasn't long before he went still and just stared at Marcus. Marcus then pointed the gun at the soldier; ironic that one so devoted to El Rey would fall to the gun the fat bastard carried. The soldier smiled and started laughing maniacally for some weird reason; Marcus then pulled the trigger, the final shot ringing out loudly and reverberating for longer than usual. It was as if nature was commerating the tremendous victory; however, Marcus felt no joy, no reconciliation. Nope, it was just another pawn in the game that was knocked off life's chessboard.

Holstering the gold-plated weapon again, he reached down for his radio and said rather flatly, "Big Papa, this is Hawkeye. Confirmed kills of El Rey and El Diablo, all hostiles eliminated. The stupid girl ran off somewhere, now I need to go find her. Again, over." "Roger, Hawkeye. Good job out there. But if I may say, if you weren't such a ruthless, cold-heareted bastard, the ladies might actually want to stay close, over." Marcus desperately wanted to tell this guy to shove it; however, he would do that later. "Copy that, Big Papa. When's extraction due, this jungle heat is fucking unbearable, over?""ETA twenty minutes. Try to hang in there. Don't forget the pics, over." "Solid copy. Hawkeye out." Marcus then meandered over to the corpse and pulled out a very small camera; after taking some snaps of the two bodys, Marcus took a ring as additional proof that this was indeed El Rey.

Marcus then slung El Diablo's machine gun over his back, putting it diagonally opposite his rifle so that it made an "X" shape on his back. He then looked around and called out, "Hey, girl! If you wanna leave this place, I suggest you show yourself and get back here! Otherwise I'm leaving you behind! You have twenty minutes!"

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori her head with her hands, praying a stray bullet would not some her way. There was yelling and gunfire, and she wasn't sure if her hiding spot would suffice. Clearly, another group of soldiers had come through and were attacking, she could only hope they failed to notice her and she could somehow escape.

She heard the sound of running feet pause briefly. Not sure if she had been spotted, and not wanting to die hiding behind a crate, she peeked out ever so slightly, a silver eye peering back to the corpses. Standing over one and removing a weapon was what a figure coated in foliage. Jungle demon! came her first irrational thought, but her sensitive nose picked up the scent of a human male. He spoke English, so he must have been part of the opposing force. A second later he was off again, and she resumed hiding behind the crate.

Moments passed that felt like an eternity. She could pick up the death cries as last breaths of the fallen soldiers in her sharp ears, sounds that only set her more on edge. Eventually, the noises ceased, punctuated by the last gunshot to end the battle. She felt the world settle, and air of finality coming over the fortress. It was over.

She heard someone speaking, the same voice of the jungle demon from before. She heard him walking back in her direction and for a moment, she thought he was coming back to finish her off. Peeking out again, she saw he was only taking pictures of the body of the fat man, and taking a ring from his finger. He yelled for her to come out and she flinched at the noise. Several heartbeats later, Sayori slowly stood up, revealing herself from behind the crate. For the outside observer, it must have been a strange sight. Dozens of warriors, all slain after an intense battle, and the only one left was a little neko girl so very out of place. She tried to speak, but it took several attempts before she could force some syllables out. "I'm right here." her voice was hoarse and soft.

She glanced around, looking for the other soldiers. It was impossible for one man to take so many enemies out. Wasn't it? She failed to see any other men standing but him. Did he really take all of them out? And why did he want her?

 

[Razgriz]

Marcus heard a small voice speak and turned his head to find the source; the girl who didn't just stay put. Had he not had his empathy ripped from his soul three years, he would have felt compassion for the blood-soaked young neko girl. But no, his eyes just bore holes into her, unseem from beneath the mossy hood of his Ghillie suit. He just stood there, looking at her in mild curiosity before taking a seat on one of the blood-spattered crates around the courtyard. He robbed a soldier of a G36 assault rifle, just in case any more tried to show up.

Marcus then pulled off the hood of his Ghillie suit; if the strange young girl thought he was a demon before, she'd be more likely even more afraid of him now. The scar that came down directly over his left eye, and the crescent moon-shaped scar that encompassed the right side of his face, told those who looked long enough that he was a man of war. His eyes a, which were once a piercing sapphire blue, were now somewhat dulled and lifeless; it was as if this man was a ghost of his former self, but no less lethal in combat. He did indeed slaughter the platoon of soldiers. He was the one responsible for her being covered in El Diablo's blood; though that was of little consequence to him.

He then unhooked a canteen from a waist bandolier strap and took a long swig of the water within. Wiping a suit-encased arm across his forehead, he then grumbled, "I fuckin' told 'em I'd need ten minutes, and that was it. Now I have to fucking sweat like a pig because they don't think I can do anything." He then looked at the strange girl, his eyes uncaring for the psychological trauma she went through. "What are you still doing over there? Believe me, girl, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already." Though she might think he was being unnecessarily rude to her, she would find out soon that he was this way with everybody.

 

[moonlit raven]

Her silver eyes, pupils still small points, examined the reveals demon's face. It was...weathered would be the best way she could describe it. Battle worn, and appearing older than he really was, she guessed. It was uncaring too, as was his voice and words. She picked up on that quickly enough.

When he asked her why she was by the crate still, her ears flattened back against her head, her tail clinging a little closer to her body. She felt safe by the crate, it was her lifeline. It the battle and in her journey here, it remained intact and unharmed. Staying near it seemed to have passed some good luck to her. She would have stayed, clinging next to it, if the demon wasn't armed to the teeth.

She wobbled over towards him. Normally, a neko was very graceful, especially her on her long slender legs. But she was rather traumatized by what had happened, and her moments were shaky to say the least.

 

[Razgriz]

Marcus watched as the strange girl made her way over to him; he kne she was afriad of him. However, even though he seemed like hostile to anyone, she would find he meant her no ill-will or harm; he was here under assignment to rescue her from El Rey's fat disgusting fingers. That much would be obvious by his next move; he was supposed to keep her safe until the extraction team arrived.

Marcus then showed a rare moment of caring; he held out his very full canteen, having drank his fill of water. Though his words would show no inflection of caring, let alone any compassion. He was almost done with this assignment; that much would be certain once they got back to the base. "Here, you're probably dehydrated from having to sit in that truck for so long. Drink up, we got a while to wait."

 

[moonlit raven]

She hesitated a moment as he held out the canteen, her eyes weary. She did finally take it though, with a quick and soft spoken, "Thank you." She drank quickly from the canteen, downing enough water to almost choke herself. Between the drugs, the jungle heat and the stress of recent events, her mouth was dry and felt full on cotton. She didn't think she was ever more grateful to have water. It had never really been a commodity she lacked.

She passed the canteen back, most of the water gone but some was still left. Her stomach felt full, and was churning; the scent of human blood and sweat in the air was making her sick. She groaned and sat down, feeling slightly dizzy. She hoped whatever their ride was showed up soon. Any place it was taking her had to be better than this.

 

[Razgriz]

Marcus sat on the crate, not really paying attention as the girl passed the canteen back until he heard the clink of it being set down. He turned his head to watch her sit down; any other person would have felt sorry for the girl. Marcus did, but only to the extent that he understood her misfortune. Nothing else about her mattered much to him; this would be made obvious by the fact he would not speak to her until their ride came.

Marcus' ears perked up when he heard the loud rumbling of two different engine types; that would be the jeep and APCs that were here to extract him, the girl and the rest of El Rey's servants. Marcus got up from his seat and said flatly to the girl "Stay here." He then unlocked the compound gate for the first APC to come into the courtyard; it backed up so that its rear hatch could open. About 15 fully armored, fully armed Marines came out of the carrier; one of them gave slight whistle when he saw the carnage. "Damn, fuckin' no one left alive." He then turned and saw Marcus, still dressed up in his Ghillie suit. "You must be the guy code-named Hawkeye. Command said you were good, but fuck. Did you kill everyone?"

Marcus just nodded and replied, "What's your name, soldier?". It's not that he wanted to be friends with this guy; he just hated being at a disadvantage. "Gunnery Sergeant William Boland, sir. Your ride's out front; Command wants you to take the girl with you back to the base. Chief's got some special orders for you." Marcus cursed mentally; what the hell was going now? Every time the Chief had him bring in any rescued captives, it was never good for him. Another Marine, this one a combat medic, then walked up to the girl; they'd been debriefed about her and were to administer first aid if necessary. The man could tell she was feeling dizzy; her body was trembling even as she sat. She was probably suffering from heat exhaustion too. The element of fear was clearly present in her expression; the amount of blood on her told him that she was there when Hawkeye massacred the entire soldier group.

He approached her slowly, laying down his weapon, an M60 light machine gun, to show her he meant no harm. He then spoke, in a considerably warmer tone of voice than the 'demon' she had been with for the past half an hour, "Hello. Don't worry, I'm not here to harm you. I'm Staff Seargent John Mills, but you can call me John if you want. I just want to make sure you're alright. May I ask you your name, little one?"

He then pulled out his medkit; in it were various medical supplies including bandages, cold compresses, gauze, bottles of ginger for nausea, and other things. The medic took one of the coldpacks and broke the packet inside; he then handed it to the girl and said, "Here, this will bring your temperature down." He then took one of the bottles of ginger and cracked it open; he poured a couple of pills into his hand and held them out to her, "This will help with you nausea. Trust me, ginger works wonders."

It was at this point that Marcus finished his discussion with the other Marine about how he had to report to the Chief with the girl. "Hey, doc, whenever you're finished with your little Care Bear moment, the girl has to come with me." John chuckled and replied rather coldly, "My apologies, I forget that you expect everyone to be a heartless killing machine. Soldiers aren't supposed to let emotions cloud their judgment, as you say." Marcus just stared at him emptily; they were wasting daylight here. John then stood and stared Marcus in the face, "I don't know how Spec Ops works, but if you're their so-called 'ideal soldier', then I want nothing to do with that division of the Armed Forces. This girl just underwent one of the most traumatic experiences, and you just blow it off like it's just a flesh wound. Have you no empathic capability?" John found it difficult, as a medic who took care of soldiers, to imagine how anyone could live with such a cold heart.

Marcus just stared him, his lifeless eyes an infinite abyss. John then nodded his head, "I see now. You're just as dead as the men you kill. I thought when I first worked with you, that it was just a one time thing; but now I see I was wrong. One look from your eyes could freeze a volcano in mid-eruption. May God have mercy on your soul, Hawkeye." After checking on the girl a bit and finding nothing else wrong, John grabbed his weapon and stormed off. Marcus gave a derisive snort and turned back to the girl, clearly unfazed by John's words. "Come on, we have to go. Now."

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori's ears twisted atop her head, catching the sounds of the approaching vehicles much sooner than the human did. She glanced up towards the road, her muscles tensing again. When the demon told her not to move she didn't really acknowledge the order; she wasn't up to doing any kind of movement anyways.

She watched the vehicles pull up, unloading more soldiers. She was still cautious of them, her ears flattening again when the medic approached. She quickly sensed though he meant no harm, and was a kind soul. She relaxed, her constricted pupils returning to normal, making no moves as he approached. "I am Sayori." she answered him when he asked her name. She thanked him as he offered her cold packs, pressing the delightfully cool packs to the back of her neck. When he offered her the ginger she sniffed it, identifying the comforting scent of the root spice. She had often consumed it as tea as a child to sooth tummy aches. She popped them in her mouth, using the last of the water in the canteen to wash them down. The effect was immediate, she felt much more stable, even if only for the fond memories of the ginger, and removing her from the present. A small smile graced her lips as she looked up warmly at John.

The demon started barking again, saying it was time to go. She wasn't too fond of the verbal lashing between the two men, and kept her head down, as if to shrink her body and perhaps disappear altogether. It was clear though that the demon was the superior warrior, and it was him she had to go with. "Thank you." she said to John as she stood. He was the first man in a long time to show her any sort of kindness, and it would stick with her for a while. She had certainly needed it now. Her ears pinning back again and her tail hung low, she followed the demon Hawkeye.

 

[Razgriz]

Sayori would find that not only the medic was sympathetic to her; as Marcus led the girl through the throng of people, many of the Marines in passing told her that they were sorry she had to go through all that. Some of the marines had gone in to find the servants and get them out; very few, if any, were sad to leave this place. Especially the women of El Rey's harem; they cried tears of joy as they embraced the soldiers, blessing them and the USA in the name of God for resucing them.

Some took it in stride; most, however, pointed to Marcus and told them he was the one who killed El Rey and his henchmen. Many tried to go confront him and practically kiss him mercilessly, but they were stopped and told that he was not a man of affection; some even joked that they wondered if he was a human at all. It would be clear to poor Sayori that Marcus was respected for his ability as a warrior, but disliked and even feared as a person.

They finally arrived at the Jeep that would take them back to the military installation; in the armored behemoth sat a heavy-set man behind the controls of a mounted machine gun. Some of the soldiers got out and saluted him; though that was only because they knew he was a far higher rank than they were. "At ease, soldiers." he grumbled; he just wanted out of this god forsaken country. He didn't even pay attention to Sayori as he climbed in. "Jeez, Hawkeye. You just saved the girl from being brutally raped by that fat fuck, why don't you, like, try to talk to her? I'm sure she'd like to know the man that killed El Rey and his entire platoon by himself to get her out of there." one of the younger soldiers said after helping Sayori get into the soft comfortable seat in the back. Clearly this guy had no idea just who he was; if Marcus had a sense of humor, he would have laughed at how fucking retarded he sounded.

"Forget it, man. You'd have better luck with a brick wall than a Spec Ops guy." another then said, trying to tell him to shut his mouth. "What? Come on, the girl went through something that would make me....ME.....scream like a bitch; the least her savior could do is make her comfortable." His friend just laughed, "Comfortable? If you call a proverbial porcupine comfortable, then by all means." Marcus was getting fed up with this shit; he then barked even more crudely than before, "Stow the chatter! You two are soldiers! Act like it!" This shut them up; one of them grumbled, "Sorry, Captain." He then turned on the ignition and started to drive off.

On the way, the Marine in the passenger seat turned and said to the poor, blood-covered neko girl and said warmly, "Don't worry little lady. We'll keep you safe. The name's Donovan Turnque, Private First Class." The driver then said calmly, but didn't turn his head due to the fact he had to keep his eyes on the narrow winding roads, "Name's Timothy Dunman, Gunnery Sergeant 2nd class. And the best damn driver to ever maneuver one of these heavily armored beauties for the US military." Donovan laughed, "Oh, you like that time you rolled that test car?" Timothy shot him a look before saying "OK, that was a training exercise! And I was still green as grass back then! But now, I'm the best there ever was! Ain't no denyin' that!"

Marcus, meanwhile, was just staying quiet. Timothy shut up for a moment before looking at Marcus in the rearview mirror and saying "Aren't you Spec Ops guys ever able to enjoy yourselves? You jus ripped the heart out of the Columbian drug, gun and human trafficking networks and you're still about as lively as a dead horse." Donovan slapped him on the arm, saying "Show some fucking respect, man! Hawkeye's different, he lo......" before cutting himself off as Marcus glared at him; it was as if to say "Shut the fuck up before I murder you". Donovan sighed and said "Right, Know-Nothing in proximity. I gotcha."

Donovan then turned back to the girl and did his best to make her comfortable in an obviously uncomfortable situation, "You'll like the base, little lady. When we get back, we'll escort you to the showers so you can wash that blood off." Marcus glared at him again and said, "The girl comes with me, my orders are to take her to the chief." Donovan tsked, "You know how anal the Chief is about blood on his furniture. And besides, I'm sure she wants to get cleaned up after having been shipped in a filthy crate for such a long time." Marcus growled, but then said "Fine, but if I get chewed out, I'm dropping your name. Got it?"

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori thanked every marine who approached her. How could she not be grateful? She saw how the other women cried and prayed, rejoicing at their freedom. She knew such joy could only come from terrible sorrow. She could have been like them, broken, battered, raped...her silver eyes watered thinking of what could have happened, and how she no longer had to endure when they did. Her eyes looked up at Hawkeye, it was him who she had to thank for that, even if he was as cold and emotionless as stone.

When they made it to the Jeep she climbed in with he help of a young marine. He seemed to be pretty talkative, and pretty good at setting Hawkeye off. She tried to make herself as small as possible, her ears folding back at the atmosphere got a little tense, and it didn't help that the topic of debate was her. It was clear to everyone but the young soldier he should have shut his mouth long ago. She flinched when the demon shouted to shut the others up. At least for a little.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Sayori" she said in greeting to the two marines, trying to keep her voice level. She was still shaken up, and didn't want to seem too pathetic. She knew she certainly looked it. She gave a weak smile as the conversation turned lighter, the men talking of driving vehicles, or something. Their military jargon confused her. The talk shifted again to Hawkeye, and lapsed into uncomfortable silence, then to more arguing as her showering was brought up.

"It's ok, really, I took pills, I will be fine." she said, trying to diffuse the situation. The smell of the blood had turned her stomach, but the pills were calming her now. She could stand the blood if it didn't mean upsetting Hawkeye. She was thankful he saved her, but she didn't want to bring on his wrath either.

 

[Razgriz]

"Oh, no, little lady. You're being escorted to the showers to clean up and that's that. Don't worry about Hawkeye; we'll take the heat for ya. A girl like you deserves it, especially after all you've been through." Timothy said. Marcus just grumbled; he wanted to hand this girl off and be done with it; he had other things to do than play Care-Bear all day. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached the base. Hawkeye climbed out, his Ghillie making him seem even larger than normal. He then turned and said, "These two will escort you to the showers, then bring you to the Commander's tent. You have ten minutes." He then turned and began a death march pace to the Base Commander's quarters.

Donovan looked at Sayori and said, "Tch, ten minutes my well-toned ass. Little lady, you take as long as you need. We'll even bring you a change of clothes to cover up in; though I'm not sure any of it will fit you too well. Even the women here are bigger than you. No offense meant, of course." Timothy chuckled, "Yeah, but that makes 'em feisty, and that's what I love about them." Donovan chuckled and said, "Oh, so you like getting punched in the face every time you make a pass at them?" Timothy laughed heartily, "What can I say? I love tough women, really gets me going." Donovan just shook his head, a big smile on his face, before turning back to Sayori, "Alright, if you'll just follow us, m'lady, the showers await." It was clear there would be no arguing here; they got out and motioned for her to follow. After clearing out the men's showers completely, due to the lady's showers being out of commission and the women of the base having showered already, the whole thing would be hers to use. Complete and utter privacy. "There you go, ma'am. It's all yours, and don't worry, there aren't any windows and we'll stand guard so no one can sneak a peek at you."

Meanwhile, Marcus was marching like a machine towards his on-base CO's quarters. His current and true CO was back in the states. The guards outside the tent saluted him and parted to let him pass. Stepping inside, still clothed in his now-hoodless Ghillie suit, Marcus gave a crisp salute to General Thomas Aiden, who currently had his back to Marcus as he reviewed a map of the terrain; in Marcus' opinion, one of the finest men to don the uniform. A squat, grey-haired man with a broad jaw and shoulders to match, his freshed-press green outfit studded with his various badges, medals and rank insignias told anyone he was a man with much experience in the art of war. "Sir, reporting mission accomplished." Marcus said calmly.

Aiden turned around, a wide smile on his face, "At ease, Lieutenant Redwin." Marcus looked a bit surprised, "Lieutenant? But sir, I'm a Captain." Aiden shook his head, "Not anymore you're not. After I relayed your mission reports to the brass, they felt it necessary to give you a substantial promotion. A well-deserved one, I'd say. For you to single-handedly take out El Rey, El Diablo and his 'Executores', and liberate the souls trapped in that hellish fortress, is a feat no one could ever imagine to accomplish. So you don't need to salute me son, hell, I should be saluting you. The whole country should be saluting you. Congress should be building a goddamn memorial to you." Marcus just stood there, letting Aiden go on about his accomplishments. But Marcus had a very different reason for killing El Rey than patriotic duty; no, this was personal. El Rey took someone from him, and he was out for blood. Marcus knew there were others, but he let the desk jockeys find out where they were hiding, then leave the killing up to him.

Aiden then saw the pistol and LMG on Marcus' form, "Son, if it's alright, could you lay those right here on the table? I wanna see them up close." Marcus nodded and did just that, laying the gold-plated weapons on the table before him. Aiden then just stared at them, a wide grin on his face before he finally picked up the Desert Eagle. "Amazing, 'La Muerte' is in my hands. They said this gun would never leave El Rey's side, but I guess they were wrong." He then handed it butt-first back to Marcus, saying "You take good care of that, and the machine gun too. Those are fine trophies." Marcus nodded and then said, "Will do, sir. Now I was informed about a meeting with my at-home Commander, something about special orders." Aiden nodded, bringing out a laptop hooked into a satellite feed. "We are connected. Patching you through, Lieutenant." the comms officer reported.

The screen came online, a dark-haired man in a Special Operations Commander outfit, sitting behind a desk. "Ah, Lieutenant Redwin. Excellent work on taking out El Rey.....I assume you heard of your promotion." Marcus nodded, "Yes sir. It's an honor, Commander Burnton." Burnton chuckled, "No need to be so formal. You earned it." The man on the screen then looked around, "Where's the girl?" Marcus sighed and replied in an almost annoyed tone of voice, "Showering, Commander. Apparently gets a bit queasy with blood on her hands and body." Burnton sighed as well, replying "Well, not everyone has an iron stomach, Lieutenant. I suppose we'll just wait until she comes back; what I have to say concerns the both of you." Marcus was now interested; what did this girl have to do with anything?

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori watched Hawkeye walk off once they had reached their destination. He actually did seem like s demon, soul-less and cold. She turned back to the two marines, following them as they lead her to the showers. The two reminded her of two cartoon characters, arguing. Except that they were full grown, strong and armed men. That fact kept her pretty sober, so as much as the wanted to laugh at their antics, after what she had been through, she only managed a weak smile.

They finally got to the showers, and Sayori throughly thanked the two men before walking inside the showers. She looked around, her ears twisting atop her head. She could neither hear, nor see another soul around. She pressed a metal knob to start one of the shower heads, the on furthest from the door. She let the water hit the tiled floor instead of her; it made more noise that way. She backed herself up into the courner of the room, sank tot eh floor, and cried. As hard as she could, but also as quiet as possible. She did this knowing that if she didn't, she wouldn't be able to hold herself together in the coming hours. After being woken up yesterday from her warm bed, druged, and waking up in this terrible place, she had experienced only trama. She let her axietly and fear take over for a few minutes, letting it all out.

After a short while, she pulled herself together and forced herself up off the floor. She felt a little calmer but more comfortably numb. She hoped she would stay they way for a while, it was easier to not deal with any feeling right now. Setting to work on actually getting clean, Sayori discarded her blood soaked bikini and stood naked under the shower. She meticulously cleaned herself off, making sure no speak of blood remained on her body. Her fur and hair was proving to be difficult. It took several washes to get the stains out. She was glad that it wasn't a permanent stain at least. She heard to door open briefly, her head jerking towards it, and saw some clothes being tossed in. She finished up under the shower and grabbed a towel off of a metal rack in another corner of the room, drying off quickly. Picking up the clothes she noticed that they were too big, but she could make due. It was better than being naked after all. They seemed identical to what the others were wearing, just made for a female. She slipped them on, rolling up the bottom of her pants so that she wouldn't trip. Deeming herself properly clothed she stepped outside, feeling much better than before.

 

[Razgriz]

Donovan and Timothy were still waiting; a few of the male soldiers tried to go into the showers, but they would not have it. When they heard the doors open, they saw Sayori dressed in clothes many sizes too large for her, and tried their hardest not to laugh. "Well, you certainly look better." Donovan commented, then said "Come on, Hawkeye's probably getting impatient." They led her to the tent; many soldiers looked at Sayori curiously for a few seconds before continuing with their duties. Others stared at her for a bit longer; well, she was incredibly attractive and a few of the men on the base had a secret fetish for cat-girls. Still, with Donovan on point and Timothy taking up the rear, Sayori was safe between these two armed soldiers. They eventually reached the CO's tent; Donovan pushed the flap aside and said, "Here's your girl, Hawkeye. Go easy on her."

Marcus didn't say anything as he turned to look in their direction. When he turned back to face the screen, General Aiden said, "Thank you, Private Turnque. That will be all." Donovan nodded and left, leaving Sayori with Hawkeye, General Aiden, and Marcus' true commanding officer on the computer screen. The black-haired man on the computer screen spoke, "Ah, Sayori! Hello! I'm Commander James Burnton. You're certainly looking better. I hope Hawkeye didn't scare you; don't worry, he's like that with everybody. He's a gruff, tough killing machine, but he's a teddy bear, really." Marcus just stood there still; it was like he was a robot.

Burnton just sighed and said to Sayori, "You see? Not even a flicker." Marcus then spoke, "Sir, if I may ask, what do we do about the girl? What exactly are these special orders?" Burnton sighed, "Lieutenant, what I'm going to ask of you is not easy, and I know you'll hate me for this. But, as of now, you are on mandatory leave for eight months." Marcus' face turned to one of initial surprise, then confusion, "Sir?" Burnton replied, "Lieutenant, you're the best damn soldier we've had a long time. Hell, you're everything Special Operations embodies. Tactility, perseverance, strength, fearlessness, commitment. I could list a hundred different qualities you exemplify that make you the ideal soldier. However, I fear you're becoming unstable and as your Commander, I am ordering you to take six months leave. Paid, of course." Marcus didn't move a muscle, his face returning its normal uncaring gaze. He then spoke, "If that's what you think is best. You know I don't like this one bit Commander."

Burnton sighed again, "I know, and that makes this next part even harder. I'm afraid that we currently do not have anyone who can take her in. Lieutenant......I ask you, could you possibly take her in? At least until we find her a place to live?" Marcus froze again momentarily; his eyes narrowed a bit. "Commander, are you sure this a good idea?" General Aiden then asked; Burnton replied, "Lieutenant Redwin isn't dangerous to innocent civilians, General." Burnton then turned his attention to Sayori, "Sayori, would be alright with in staying with Lieutenant Redwin? It would only be for a short while."

Marcus then spoke up, "I don't recall agreeing to take her in." Burnton paused then said, "Come on, Lieutenant. Don't make me beg; the girl needs a home and you're the only one available right now." Marcus gave a defeated sigh and said, "Very well." Burnton then turned back to Sayori and asked "Do you accept that, Sayori? Would you be willing to stay with Lieutenant Redwin?"

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori felt many eyes upon her, but she paid it no mind. She was used to it, she had always been treated as an object to be viewed and admired. This was nothing different. If fact, the only think bothering her now was her tail; her pants came up to the bottom of her tail, and were rubbing uncomfortably against it with every step. These closes really did not suit her at all.

She entered the tent, glancing around at the men who occupied it, and the screen lit up with the image of another, dark haired man. She didn't question how he knew her name as he greeted her, she figured they must know enough about her to track her down in the jungle. When he described Hawkeye as a teddy bear, she raised a silver brow incredulously, looking up at the mountain of a man, still as unmoving as a stone statue. The only thing he had in common with a teddy bear was being completely inanimate and devoid of life.

Her tail flicked as she listened to the dark haired man break the bad news to Hawkeye. She didn't like it only because it was making a very dangerous man upset. So when the even worse news was said that she would be staying with him, her white ears flattened a little. She looked up at Hawkeye, wondering if this would be such a good idea. Still, how could she refuse? Where else did she have to go? "I will stay with him." she said, her voice level and emotionless.

 

[Razgriz]

Burnton was glad to hear it; he then said, "Alright Lieutenant. Looks like you have a new house-guest. Try to be nice to her OK? I'll be sending personal orders to your personal computer; you are to read them once you arrive at him. Are we clear?" Marcus wasn't happy with this; his face however remained unchanged and his body language remained absolutely neutral. "Crystal, sir." The good Commander then nodded and replied, "Enjoy your leave. The transport to pick you up will be here in thirty minutes. Commander Burnton, out." The screen then cut out; the comms officer then said, "Connection has been terminated."

Aiden sighed and put the laptop away; he then said to Marcus, "That greasy slimeball, shelving a soldier like you. You should be out there, blasting hostiles; not at home sippin' coffee and pulling your hair out." Marcus just replied, his voice as flat and emotionless as ever, "Not my call, General. As much as I agree with what you just said, I have new orders." He intended to give this girl a full lecture on house rules and procedures; he wold make sure she understood completely. It was bad enough he was essentially playing babysitter; he didn't need her being exposed to the public. Marcus then replied, "Well, guess I better go pack. General." He then saluted again before Aiden dismissed him; Marcus then turned and left the tent.

Aiden then approached Sayori, smiling warmly, "Don't worry about Lieutenant Redwin. He may seem like an unstable, homicidal maniac; hell, that's what I first thought of him when I saw him in combat. Two years ago, he single-handedly opened a path through heavy enemy fire for my platoon in Iraq. I don't know how he did it, but he got behind enemy lines and decimated them. We were escorting some very precious cargo you see; supplies mostly, and heavy weapons for the impending assault against Al-Asad's fortress. If the Lieutenant hadn't been there, we would have been fucked royally." He then gave a slight cough as he realized he was off-track and said, "Sorry about that; Redwin's just a damn fine soldier and it's hard for me not to appreciate his combat expertise. But, like I was saying, off the field, he's actually a very quiet man. Bit of a gun nut, but quiet; you pick any weapon and hide it under a sheet, he'll tell you the type, name, caliber and if you're lucky, manufacturer just by feeling and looking at it." He then smiled and laid a hand gently on her shoulder, "Would you like a tour of our fine facility while you wait for the transport to arrive?"

 

[moonlit raven]

Sayori watched as Hawkeye felt the tent, her tail flicking. There was no acknowledgement of her existence, but she figured that would be the status-quo for the near future. Sayori didn't really mind how he treated her, it was no worse than what she was used to. Men regarded her as nothing more than merchandise, something to be maintained and sold for a profit, nothing more. If Hawkeye saw her as just another objective, it was just business as usual. She would just make sure to stay out of his way, she didn't need someone like him getting angry at her.

Her attention turned to the only occupant left in the room, the older man. She smiled politely as he described her new keeper, not hearing anything about him that set her more at ease. Though listening to the old man she thought that this might be something he would subject his grandchildren to, telling them stories of his battles. She wasn't too interested, but when he asked to give her a tour she smiled politely and said yes. She wanted to get out of these clothes, out of this jungle, and curl up under a blanket and sleep, but her features remained serene, betraying none of her discomfort.