A Reason for Living Part 4
Easier Said than Done
It was decided that the best exit route was a full circle back around the stern to the gangplank. 01 and the German's progress would be dictated by the absence of any wandering crewmen and a lack of activity on the dock. Their departure was moving along smoothly until, from somewhere behind or above the exiting agents, a stern voice bellowed out of the mist.
"HALT!" The order was accentuated by the cocking of a weapon that carried a lot of firepower.
"Déjà Vu." Heero muttered as he remembered his and Quatre's similar situation during 04's rescue.
Boots hit heavily on a ladder then stopped close behind them. Both agents froze in place not wanting to give whoever issued the order any reason to do them bodily harm.
"Turn around slowly." the phantom voice instructed.
Heero had been correct in his assumption concerning the deadly quality of the assault rifle aimed in his and Weisman's direction. The rifle's owner never took his eye off the pair of intruders. "John come here and see what I found." Soon two equally lethal rifles bore down at the agent's middles.
"Drop them." John ordered using his rifle to indicate the Beretta and the Walther.
Heero gave every indication that he was cooperating. Slowly he bent forward but purposely positioned his body to block the gunman's view. Instead of depositing the automatic on the deck he slipped the sleek sidearm in the top of the boot. Weisman, to help hide 01's deception, dropped his Walther in an overdone gesture making certain the clang when it hit was clearly heard.
Back up." the crewman instructed. In what was a practiced response both agents complied with their empty hands held high.
"Looks like we caught a couple of snoopers." John commented with a thick Aussie accent. John's wide grin was suggestive of someone planning a most likely ugly end to the situation, "Should we wait for the Captain or deep six them now?"
John's shipmate shrugged in a noncommittal fashion. "I don't think Witman would care one way or the other."
Now John's grin had twisted into a vicious sneer of yellowed teeth. "Move." he growled motioning toward the railing.
Heero and Weisman found themselves staring over the railing into the black water lapping up against the hull. "Don't fret none about the cold water, mate, you'll be dead before you hit it."
Heero didn't find the promise of a quick death very comforting. He cut his eyes at Weisman whose only reaction was a thin-lipped smile.
One rifle's blackened barrel was aligned with Weisman's temple and even though 01 couldn't see where John had taken aim he was sure that it had to be in close proximity to the base of his skull.
Heero's mind raced as he figured angles and possible distractions. It wasn't over yet but it would be if he didn't find some way to intervene. "Don't you think shooting us will attraction unwanted attention?" Heero reasoned. He hoped that the question might detour the crewman's one track thought process.
John stepped up beside 01 and leaned near enough for Heero to smell his liquor-fouled breath. "No one around here cares what happens." he declared, "Besides this don't make no noise."
A double-edged knife came up by Heero's cheek. The port lights bounced off the slender blade casting a silvery glimmer across his eyes. *All right,* Heero conceded to himself, *a knife can be just as deadly but John will have to get a lot closer to use it.*
Unfortunately that fundamental logic didn't apply to the rifle pressed to Weisman's head. The weapon's length kept its owner well out of grabbing range and even if the German agent had excellent reaction time he still could not elude the already targeted firearm.
The blade flashed again. Heero discreetly shifted his weight. He would be damned if he was going down without a fight. His hands balled into tight fists at his side and muscles coiled ready to spring into action.
"Hey Johnny!" a voice shouted from the dock.
All eyes focused to find the disembodied caller. At the gangplank's entrance a ruddy complexioned man stood among three hookers who appeared to be helping to hold him upright. With an unbalanced swagger the man leaned back craning his neck to see the four figures standing along the railing.
"Johnnnny" he yelled again, Looky here what I found." he pointed a thumb at the girls who giggled not so much from embarrassment but from tipsy euphoria.
The man training the rifle on Weisman settled his weight on his left leg and leaned against the railing. His head bowed slightly toward the dock, his eyes refocused on the copiously endowed proportions of the female threesome smiling invitingly back. The rifle eased back until an acceptable margin of safety was created.
Weisman was took full advantage of the gunman's strayed alertness. An elbow jab to the ribs doubled the man over seconds before the ridge of Weisman's fist smashed simultaneously into his chin, teeth and nose. Whirling around the German landed a centered punch to the jaw that sent both the gunman and his gun into the murky water with a startled yell and a sturdy splash.
At the same instant Heero grabbed John's wrist. Now there was a battle of strength and willpower as each man was sure that he would not be the loser. Muscles burned from the strain and eyes locked with indomitable determination.
The razor-edged blade quivered dangerously close to Heero's face. With extra effort Heero slid his foot behind his opponent's heel snagging his ankle. A forward jerk upset his balance allowing Heero to gain the upper hand. A forearm aside the chin effectively finished the job and dislodged the knife.
An answering punch from John drew blood from one of 01's nostrils and caused spots to dance before his eyes. Leaning against the railing Heero puffed and shook his head to realign his scattered senses.
Believing Heero's retreat from the fray to be a sign of weakness John scooped up the knife and put all of his energy into a headlong charge. Heero recovered just in time to pull his Beretta from his boot and squeeze off a single shot.
John stopped in his tracks. As he clutched his bloody shoulder he staggered sideways then with a sharp cry of pain and surprise he toppled over the railing to join his shipmate for a swim.
Weisman snatched up the Walther making for the gangplank with Heero's at his heels. Having seen his fellow crewmen so handily dispatched the drunken sailor met the agents halfway up the inclined ramp. Weisman grabbed the gangplank's rail on either side, leaned back and planted a foot squarely in the advancing man's breastbone effortlessly removing the last obstacle to his and Heero's escape.
The resulting splash as the man somersaulted, arms and legs thrashing wildly, into the sea sent up a fine spray that showered over the exiting agents. The befuddled trio of whores parted with an alarmed squeal as Heero and Weisman bolted pass then stood dumbfounded watching the inebriated man and his enraged shipmate help their wounded friend swim to the dockside.
Pausing to catch their breaths the bruised but happy winners didn't bother to hide their amusement as the three Vagabond crewmen cursed the hookers for laughing and each other for their failure.
"Damn we should get hazard pay for this." Heero announced wiping tacky blood from his upper lip.
Weisman checked his knuckles for damage and gave 01 a disapproving frown. "You think it would do any good to turn in a voucher?"
Heero was about express his derogatory opinion on the Bureau's tight purse strings when the CRACK of a pistol sent both agents diving for cover. Heero and the Beretta surveyed the dock to his right, Weisman and his Walther scanned the opposite direction.
A strangled cry redirected the agents' attention to the Vagabond just in time to see a body with a laser-scope sniper's rifle still clutched in its hands flip over the upper level railing, drop lifelessly to the main deck and hit with a bone-splintering thud.
It took Heero only a heart-chilling moment to realize that either he or Weisman had been targeted in the sniper's sight then it took less than a moment more to know who had fired the saving shot.
Standing on unsteady legs Heero pivoted to see Wufei emerging from the shadows. His still smoking pistol dangled from his fingers and a look of relief played across his slanted ebony eyes.
Weisman also found it difficult to make his rubbery legs support this weight. He held onto a light pole gulping in the salty sea air to clear his head. When his legs were more inclined to cooperate he walked over to Heero and the Chinese man who had seemed to materialize from nowhere.
"This is Chang Wufei." Heero introduced his partner and friend. "Wufei this is Frederic Weisman."
Wufei bowed then offered his free hand. "So you are the man with your fingers on Hamburg's pulse." he commented with his usual dry humor.
Weisman shook Wufie's hand, "Thanks to you I still have a pulse.
Heero slipped the Beretta in his shoulder holster, he hoped that he wouldn't need it again that night. "Where in the hell have you been?" he inquired of his tardy partner.
"I arrived just as you and Weisman were boarding the ship. I figured since you didn't bother to wait for me that I might as well keep watch here."
"I don't suppose you figured we could have used a third man in the fight?" Heero stated as he clearly recalled the knife hovering near his face.
Wufei let a smile curl up his mouth's corners. "I had that knife-wielding bastard in my sights, if you had needed help I could have easily taken him out." he said matter-of-factly.
"I think we all could use a stiff drink." Weisman declared then winced as he flexed his sore fingers.
Heero licked his dry lips, "Why not, we might as well reward ourselves, no one else is going to." he stated from years of experience.
*********
Two hours later 01 and 05 staggered into their hotel room. Several glasses of something stronger than beer had put a dull edge on Heero's painful joints and bruised knuckles. Wufei was unusually relaxed, as the fermented brew had also worked its magic.
Wufei threw back the comforter and more flopped than sat down on his bed. He mumbled in Chinese as he unlaced his high-top boots and tugged them off then launched into a louder tirade when his trousers hung up on his hips. Finally he wiggled the trousers free, pulled off his hair tie, curled up with his back to Heero and yanked the bedcovers over his head stating, "That damn light is too bright."
Heero went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face to get his wits about him long enough to dutifully call the Hamburg Bureau. He checked his watch realizing that the night operator's shift would soon be over. It would be less than two hours until dawn ushered in a new day.
He spoke with the Duty Supervisor and requested one more day in Hamburg before flying on to Switzerland. What he didn't state was that the extra day was not needed to gather addition information or investigate suspicious persons but to give him and Wufei time to recover from what he knew would be nasty hangovers.
He switched off the light and undressed in the dark. In the other bed Wufei snorted softly. Taking comfort in the fact that he and 05 had an instinctual connection Heero closed his eyes and drifted off into welcomed oblivion.
TBC...
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