Better Red Than Dead

There are times within the Mechanical Construction and Specialized Arms Division when Commander 142 is more than grateful for just how spacious the division’s main workspace is. They have a large warehouse adjacent to the Far East wing of the compound, bordering a practice field for jeeps, tanks, and their more personalized projects. The wall facing the field functions much like a garage door and during warm weather will almost always be seen up to make communication easier without the use of the division’s walkie-talkies. Today just happens to be one of those pleasantly warm days the division looks forward to.

Alik has found himself hunched over the latest blueprints delivered to him, body bent at the hips with a forearm against the table to support him. A pencil taps at his lips repeatedly while he scans over the plans, mouth finally parting just enough for the eraser of the pencil to find itself caught between his teeth for a brief bite down. He catches himself quickly and pulls the pencil away, exhaling softly. He sets his pencil down out of the way as Alik stands to his full height, hands planted on his lower back so he can bend for a brief stretch.

    Once he finds that he has straightened himself out comfortably, he dips a hand into his pants pocket to retrieve a strawberry flavored lollipop, unwrapping it with eyes unfocused. He’s running on auto-pilot, clearly not paying much attention to his physical actions. He’s lost in thought; carefully running through ideas and plans for the schematics he’s been assigned. The idea behind them is brilliant as always, the execution of the planning absolutely flawless. The work of a true god. The exhausted commander can only pray that his work even begins to meet the expectations of the mastermind behind the new plans.

    The entire space is filled with a deafening boom just as he bends back down to scribble a few notes in a small red-bound notebook, the walls shaking slightly. His head hangs, breath coming out in a soft huff. He should have expected that his peace would be interrupted. Of course he had to wrap himself up in his mind to the point of losing touch with the endeavors of those around him. Wild, high-pitched laughter rings out once the sound of the rumbling explosion dies out, both sounds seeming to originate from the testing field outside. Lovely.

    Those within the division are silent, eyes on either the field or Alik as the tall man stands erect again and strides towards the open door. He steps into the warm air, hand lifting to his mouth so he can remove the candy trapped between his jaws. Vibrant blue eyes lock onto a space off to the side that he knows is the source of the issue: The Demolitions Testing Range. Right in the middle of that small area, blackened by countless tests and patchy from the new terrain that gets piled in every so often to fill the gaping wounds left by the very man stationed by his newest work of art. The tall, lanky figure is hunched considerably, clutching the detonator against his chest and giggling to himself. When he looks up, light amber eyes that shine in both the sun and distant flame of the recent explosion meet those that are cold and distant.

“Where do I even begin, 125?” The deep, heavily accented voice rumbles out calmly despite the chill in his eyes, hip cocking off to the side as he twirls the lollipop stick between his thumb and forefinger. Sadly, his question is met by a louder crescendo of shrill laughter before he gets an appropriate response.

“Aw, hell. Sorry, bossman. What can I say? My dear baby was callin’ to me. Croonin’ at me. Beggin’ me t’ press all ‘er buttons just right.”

The excuse earns a soft scoff from the Commander, his head hanging slightly so his bangs sway as he shakes his head. His free hand lifts, palm flat and facing Mouse as Alik looks back up to his grin. “I would rather not hear of such,” he pauses briefly, running through the words in his head. “personal endeavors.” The pause and Alik’s emphasis earn another trill of pleased tittering, the man causing the familiar sound hunching more as he loses the small amount of sanity he sometimes manages to retain. The laughter earns a grimace and a tap of his foot against loose soil from the Commander.

Mouse jumps a bit, looking back to him with another wide grin. “C’mon, boss. You know I’ll always be seduced by ‘er sweet, sweet charm.” He lifts the detonator up to his face as he continues, lips sticking out a bit as he stares at it and speaks with a certain softness to his voice. “‘Sides, who could possibly say no to a figure like this?” Mouse is forced to watch in horror as a hand adorned in quite a few rings comes into his line of vision, resting atop the detonator and applying pressure to force Mouse’s hand lower. “Me. You should learn as well if you do not want to find your face shoved in corner again.”

The threat earns an affronted gasp, amber eyes going wide. “You wouldn’t dare.” The slow, icy smile that spreads across Alik’s lips makes Mouse lean back, eyes narrowed and his clutch on the detonator tightening. Alik speaks once more, tone calm and voice kept low. “Have I not many times in the past? Do you truly think you should question me when you are in such tight spot?” The reassurance that Alik delivers is accompanied by one of Mouse’s feet shifting back a bit to gain more distance between the two of them.

What the Aussie hadn’t thought to worry about is the fact that Alik has been working with him for far too many years. His muscles visibly tense when Mouse moves, preparing himself for the inevitable. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Mouse spins on the ball of one foot, knee bending to help boost him forward. The hard push off the ground sends him rocketing forward, voice ringing out over his shoulder. “No way am I goin’ back to that damned corner.”

Alik refuses to respond verbally right away, his own weight thrown forward barely a second after Mouse turned away from him. He lunges forward, hand colliding with the back of Mouse’s coat and gripping the fur lining around his neck. Mouse’s momentum becomes his downfall as the coat catches around his throat, causing a rather satisfying gag when he falls back toward Alik.The taller man meets Alik’s chest, the Russian’s hand not secured against Mouse’s collar grips at one lapel, holding Mouse in place easily. “You earned ten minutes in corner. Try to run and it becomes twenty.” The weight sagging into his front tells Alik that Mouse is pouting, but compliant. There’s no more struggle as Alike walks at Mouse’s side, guiding him to a corner of the main MC/SAD warehouse that’s been cleared out. Upon their arrival, Mouse steps up to the corner, forehead pressing to one wall.

Once he’s sure Mouse is in place, Alik calls out toward a nearby jeep where a familiar figure can be seen bent under the hood. “197!” The man jumps, standing swiftly and narrowly avoiding smashing the back of his head against the hood in his hurry to spin and face the Commander. “Keep eye on Mouse. Fifteen minutes.” Alik’s Second in Command gives a toothy grin and a salute, voice chipper in his response. “You got it, boss!” Kenny then delivers a light-hearted scowl towards his new prisoner, only earning a pout from Mouse.