BLUEPOWDER 1/?

Title: Blue Powder
Author: Unanimo
Language: English
Series: Blue
Genres: Action, Drama
Warning: Some language and descriptive elements are not suited for minors
Status: On going

Codename Blue

Dante Garrett's cerulean eyes wandered around the lobby of the crammed hotel, and winced when his sight locked at the merry crowded individuals from the entrance door. He disregards their cheering, laughs, and chatting as they passed by in front of him to where he sat. People. No matter what stage of age they are, they're just annoying as kindergartens.

He shook his head and sipped his take-out coffee, opens his newspaper and absently scanned it, trying to read, ignoring the long line of people waiting for taxis that met his gaze a while ago. Right. It was the month of Christmas, so most of these people are tourist. Tourist! Minding off the bumps and loads of everyday lives! It was only second week of the December and it's already Christmas for them? That sight makes Dante's face grimaced even more.

And to make Dante's irritations grew more into a catastrophe was the red and green motif—which sometimes, and we don't know how, the outcome was gold, plastered everywhere all over the hall, heck even to his own chair, making him look like an possessed ballerina wearing a fucking green tutu. Above him, where the chandelier had placed, a sparkling lantern that winks only twice that compliments the decorated pine trees with weird feathery twin doves hanging predominantly as the song had suggested, lining up the lobby. Not only that, there's a peculiar laughing fat guy jerking the bell outside the hotel which scared the hell out of him few minutes ago. And, lastly, the freaking snow jacket-ing the metropolis—or hell, all over the state, and lots of other things related to yuletide people grasping throughout their entire year yet Dante couldn't suggest himself to be pleased about.

Blizzard crashed down Chicago yesterday, habitually as nature had always done but still these idiots beamed to their hearts content. Traditionally, Christmas had bad news and good news mingling in between. No one's give a shit about the storm, really. As long as the season of joy is here smacking your face, no one's give a damn about your numbed-freezing ass while in a traffic jam.

He hates it. He hates everything that has to do with the 'Happy Holidays'.

Well, except the additional bonuses and other things, beyond that, you can merry my ass as he always said.

He folded his newspaper and set it aside, even the cartoon section issued a lousy one today. He glanced at his watch and tapped his microphone on to his chest. "Okay, speak... who really gave this shitty order?"

"Ah... that would be the one who pay our bills?" a voice from his earpiece said, trying to humor around—though obviously it will never work. "So, how's the suit?"

"Ecstatic." He muttered dryly as he glides his hand to his lapel, sensing the rich fabric with his finger tips. It irked him. Then he took off his eyeglass, pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. "After this, remind me to strangle you later." He said and the person on the other line laughs.

This morning, as he mentally noted, he showed his grimiest face ever in front of the mirror and cursed everyone who tried to calm his freaking outburst. He was a typical kind of a guy who fond with leather jackets and denims, fancy bikes and sports cars. Mostly his task was... let's say to kill, in other words, seek and destroy. Or, for someone who needs needy assistance, a backup. A Cleaner, so to speak. Dante's job was to make sure his team makes the job done perfectly. Mistake is not an option, it's stupidity. And that means he doesn't need pressed suits and fancy coats to display himself in public. Fuck that. He kills and that was he do best. In eight years, his radical life cycled in between college and reconnaissance. What difference does it make when a signature clothes soak in blood? Nothing. All the same. And that pisses him off now.

"Versace looks good on you."

"Yeah, right. This tie alone cost me a hundred bucks!"

"Changes was mandatory, my friend."

"I look like an idiot. Who the fuck picked this one anyway?"

"Vasquez. You looked dashing, though." the voice teased.

"Whatever."

"Situation?"

Dante sighed and cupped his hand to his chin and leaned forward at the table. "Six men—two in front of me, others just... I don't know, wandering around, obviously armed and stupid..." he glanced towards his right, "...and an old hag beside me who's freaking me out lately."

"Must be love at first sight," the voice snorted.

Dante grunted.

"Seriously, Blue," the voice said sternly, "this is your last job as a..." a sighed broke. "Could you promise me one thing? Please, please, spare me the bullshit ego."

"What do you mean?"

"You know... reckless and everything."

"I am not reckless!"

"That's not what I meant." The voice sighed deeply, nearly surrendering.

"Honestly, Green," Dante quirked his lips, "I want to give you all my last full show."

"Just be careful, okay?" There's a slight irritation from that order yet it has this worried tone in it, and Dante had this feeling he had to smile on that.

"Not you, idiot." The voice snapped at him, waking Blue's senses. "I'm talking about the job."

"Aw... how sweet of you, Green. But don't worry, I don't die easily."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You want me to die?"

"Hardly, just make sure you get out of there alive so that you can pay whatever you owe me. Then after that you can do whatever you want. Cyanide is not a bad idea, wouldn't you think?"

"Asshole..."

"I know. See yah later."

After the line dropped, Dante stood up and walked to a nearby bar and asked for a Martini. He was about to take a swig when he noticed a familiar face of a man, not too far away from the threshold of the crowded bar. Blue has the ability to recognize every detail of a person's face since he was a child. But this one was kinda different. The light gray eyes of the man were so overwhelming he can hardly think straight. He blinked few times and glanced back again. The man was gone. Blue shook his head, having a dejavu was not practically inclined for right now.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Wha—" he almost jumped as the bartender stood in front of him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you waiting for someone?" The bartender smiled.

Dante narrowed his eyes at him quickly. Can't I have least a descent drink alone?

Dante tried to smile though, but that's not enough for the man in question. He shook his head and forced a smile. "No. Just need a drink."

Drying the glass in his hand, the bartender leaned over. "Sorry about that, sir. Mostly people coming here at this time of hour usually go with pairs."

"What's your point?"

The bartender blinked. "That mostly people inside this bar by this hour go literally with pairs...?"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you..." he glanced at his name tag, "... Ric. I'm single and damn happy to be one. I'm here for business matters, that's all. And for that I don't need to be with someone who doesn't give a fuck to what I'm doing..." he halted as he saw the bartender's eyes widened. Dante felt embarrassed and swigs his martini in one swift then placed the tab under the glass. "Sorry about that, bro. I'm not good in communicating. Excuse me." He slipped out from his chair and left the bar with a frowned face. "Fuck," he murmured and tapped his microphone again. "What's wrong with this people?"

"It's called 'give love on Christmas day', dumbass." A voice of a woman came through his earpiece. It was Vasquez.

"Position?" he asked, completely ignoring her answer.

"The subject's in between Fourth and Third Street. Traffic. Yahoo." She replied. "Approximately seven minutes upon arrival."

"Jesus..."

"I know. You hate this part of the year, no one blames you... except you have to consider because there's a traffic ahead..."

A slight commotion suddenly emerged from where the woman was stationed. Dante heard keyboard's clicking.

"What's going on?"

"Ah... Blue?" she said, hesitating. "We have to change the plan."

"What?"

"The subject altered his booking few minutes ago. It says here he rented a Penthouse not the ambassador suite."

Dante growled. "And you're telling me this now?"

"Hey, it says he—"

"Are you reading it right..."

"This guy was as slippery as I thought." She said, paying no heed to his sudden outburst. "He knows what he's doing."

"Wasn't it obvious?" He muttered dryly. "Damn it, Viper! Tell Green check his server next time, alright? You guys giving me a headache!"

"We're not a psychic, Blue! And perhaps you have forgotten, I'm your superior."

"Hardly notice that. Now do shut up and get to work!"

After few clicks and low murmuring, Vasquez spoke again. "Right. Blue, We have ten men guarding the penthouse, mostly the west wing. Did you count your knives?"

"Don't worry, I can manage." He answered. "Where are the others?"

"They are with the subject. You have to do your own math."

"You have to do better than that!" he growled again... then halted... or rather choked at his own breath. As he stood behind the man-made trees, he saw that someone again, walked passed in front of him, few feet away. "Whatta in a..."

"What is it?" Vasquez said.

He blinked then turned away. "Nothing... I just saw someone."

"Drinking again?"

"Not your godamn business." He hissed and brushed the thought away. "Where are they now?"

"Four minutes from where you're standing."

"Good-Red?"

"Two cars. First car; four, second; three. Eight men fully armed including the subject." Another one spoke, coming from a different frequency. Hush winds can tell he's on the rooftop from the other side of the building.

"Weapons?" Dante asked.

"Oh just a water gun." Vasquez laughed. Knowing Dante, Beretta was just a child's play for him.

"Lame." Blue grinned.

"No, they're just...too trustful. You know, Yakuza. They hate big guns. They mostly like contact sports. Like you."

Few minutes later, the people outside began to shift movements as a black limousine parked in front of the hotel with a Japanese insignia. Dante watched them carefully. Four big guys went out from the vehicle.

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just the first batch of asshole is here." Dante peered outside, grinning.

"I don't like that tone of yours. What's on your mind, Blue?" she asked doubtfully.

Dante widened his smile. "I just want to test that theory of yours, that's all."

"What theory?" Vasquez asked, and then muttered something as she remembered something. "Do you have to do it right now?"

"Oh no, you know me. Patience is a virtue, love. Always. If I had to die today, I just want to make sure I have all the fun before that."

"Don't be stupid, Blue! I was only joking about contact sports. Are you listening? This is the last time you ever—if you ever do that thing again I will personally jab that knife of yours to your own body!"

"Relax, honey." He said in a calm voice. "Start counting. It'll be five minutes."

Vasquez screamed something but Dante cut her off. He walked straight towards the elevator with a warm smile on his face.

TBC