FAKE Double Drabble: Contaminated
Title: Contaminated
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee is working undercover on a particularly loathsome assignment.
Written Using: The dw100 prompt ‘Ordnance’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Double drabble and a half, 250 words.
Arms dealers were scum, and this bunch was among the worst. Judging by what they had on offer, they had access to half the US military’s ordnance; not just assault rifles and armour-piercing ammunition, but rocket launchers, missiles, and enough explosives to blow a hole big enough to drive a tank through in just about anything they chose.
Dee would have liked to blow a few holes himself, grab one of the automatic rifles and gun down every last one of these bastards whose ‘business’ it was to sell lethal weapons in bulk to the highest bidder. He’d probably save a lot of lives that way. Too bad he couldn’t do it.
He was undercover as the representative of a very wealthy individual, and his orders were to play along, tell the dealers what his employer was in the market for, arrange for a demonstration of the goods… Taking down the dealers might be satisfying, but it wouldn’t net the big fish. One way or another, their supplier had to be identified and shut down for good.
So here he was, dressed to impress in an expensive Italian silk suit that would’ve cost at least half a year’s wages, shaking hands and making nice with a bunch of well dressed slimeballs who made his skin crawl.
As soon as this assignment was over, he planned on taking the longest, hottest shower his body could stand in an effort to feel clean again. He wasn’t getting paid enough for this gig.
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee is working undercover on a particularly loathsome assignment.
Written Using: The dw100 prompt ‘Ordnance’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Double drabble and a half, 250 words.
Arms dealers were scum, and this bunch was among the worst. Judging by what they had on offer, they had access to half the US military’s ordnance; not just assault rifles and armour-piercing ammunition, but rocket launchers, missiles, and enough explosives to blow a hole big enough to drive a tank through in just about anything they chose.
Dee would have liked to blow a few holes himself, grab one of the automatic rifles and gun down every last one of these bastards whose ‘business’ it was to sell lethal weapons in bulk to the highest bidder. He’d probably save a lot of lives that way. Too bad he couldn’t do it.
He was undercover as the representative of a very wealthy individual, and his orders were to play along, tell the dealers what his employer was in the market for, arrange for a demonstration of the goods… Taking down the dealers might be satisfying, but it wouldn’t net the big fish. One way or another, their supplier had to be identified and shut down for good.
So here he was, dressed to impress in an expensive Italian silk suit that would’ve cost at least half a year’s wages, shaking hands and making nice with a bunch of well dressed slimeballs who made his skin crawl.
As soon as this assignment was over, he planned on taking the longest, hottest shower his body could stand in an effort to feel clean again. He wasn’t getting paid enough for this gig.
The End