Fanfic: MALINGARD [Re-write] - (1/??) - reita/??
Title: MALINGARD
Author: brilliantdream
Chapter: 1/??
Pairing/s: Reita/??, others to be revealed
Genre: AU, thriller, action
Rating: (for whole fic) R
Warnings: (for whole fic) violence, coarse language, MxM, abuse (alcohol, drug and physical)
Summary:
Only three years ago MALINGARD had been nothing more than a private security firm, providing protection for moderately wealth socialites and 'b' grade celebrities. But now under the ambitious hand of its new Director, MALINGARD is a behemoth, the first choice in security and sole provider of government anti-terror security.
But nothing is as it seems. Akira (a.k.a Reita), a MALINGARD agent, is about to discover the secret behind MALINGARD's sudden coporate success and just how far the company will go to keep it.
~~~
1
When he woke up Akira knew it was going to be one of those days.
The kind of day that made you regret ever bothering to crawl out of bed despite the niggling hollowness in the base of your stomach. He couldn’t say what it was about the way he felt as he sat up massaging the kinks out of his neck. There was just something lingering on the edge of his perception that he didn’t like. A gut feeling that he found hard to ignore as he pulled on a pair of black acid rinse jeans that had been left discarded on the floor.
His training told him that he shouldn’t ignore his instincts. But with nothing more to go on than a strange feeling of unease there was hardly enough reason to call in sick.
‘Remember, not matter what always trust your gut.’
A small part of Akira cringed as the derisive voice of his training supervisor, Mao, echoed in the back of his mind. The seasoned agent would have had his head if he knew Akira was completely disregarding that one fundamental rule.
Instincts are never wrong, so always trust your gut.
It was a personal mantra for Mao and he made damn sure he instilled it in every recruit that passed under his wing, including Akira. Now there were some fond memories.
Mao, true to his alias, had been a demanding, unsympathetic mentor. Utilitarian and forever practical he was uncompromising when it came to his fundamental beliefs. As far as Mao was concerned, failure to listen to your instincts would get you killed. Anyone who saw otherwise was a fool.
Since Akira had completed his training Mao had retired or so the grapevine told him. His stubborn old mentor had never seemed the type to leave the business early. Rather, Akira had envisioned that Mao would still be around well after Akira himself had given up. But that was how thing were in their line of work, no one seemed to stick around beyond the age of 35, except for maybe the Aoi’s father.
Running a hand carelessly through his hair, scratching the nape of his neck absent-mindedly as he did so, Akira reached for a shirt in the closet, tugging it on without really paying attention to what he’d chosen. All his shirts were the same anyway, just like all his jeans and his jackets. In fact, that went for everything; shoes, socks, even his underwear was uniform. There wasn’t a unique piece of clothing anywhere. All of it had been supplied in bulk by the company. The company supplied everything.
Only three years ago the company, known as Malingard, had been nothing more than a private security firm that provided personal protection for moderately wealthy socialites and ‘b’-grade celebrities. It was successful in its area of expertise and looked set to, one day in the distant future, become a strong player in the politics of the security market. That was until the company’s Director suffered a heart attack while on holiday abroad. The news of his sudden death had sent a shock wave through the private sector, causing the near catastrophic collapse of Malingard stocks. A shadow of uncertainty cast itself over the firm and its employees in the wake of it all as analysts and experts speculated the company’s fate.
Even with the almost immediate appointment of the Director’s son, many doubted that the ambitious heir, know only as Aoi, would be able to salvage the company’s position in the market. Few cared whether or not he could manage the company effectively, because the big thing on people’s minds was the bottom line.
In his first investor’s conference the then thirty-one year old Aoi had challenged his doubters, arrogantly asserting that his Malingard would surpass that of his father in every way. Doubters brushed him off, thinking him nothing more than a petulant child. No one expected Aoi to live up to even half of his claims. Maybe that’s why what happened next caught everyone of guard. Because Aoi, it turned out, was a man of his word.
From that point onward Malingard ruthlessly strengthened its presence in the market, undercutting and buying out smaller firms so quickly that in less than three years it had a solid hold on thirty percent of the market. The largest share held by any single company. It was clear to many that Malingard was on its way to gaining a monopoly of the security industry. Needless to say Aoi’s critics were silenced.
Malingard was now a behemoth, a full blown corporation and household name. Everybody who was anybody utilised the company’s services, which had expanded from personal protection to include event security. With the increase in demand came the prestige. Malingard rivalled other corporations as the ideal employer. Graduates from all over the country fought tooth and claw to even get an interview with the exclusive company. Akira had been one of those graduates.
As a struggling student from a less than privileged background Akira had set the bar high when he decided that he wanted to work for Malingard. No one every believed that he would manage it. Malingard was notorious for its unique entrance exam that culled at least seventy percent of hopefuls before they even set foot inside the door. But with nothing to loose and everything to gain Akira worked himself to the grindstone, transforming himself from a weedy, awkward teen with barely average grades into the ideal Malingard candidate.
Three years of night classes and just as must time spent at the gym later and Akira was barely recognisable to his friends back home. All the hard work had payed off in the end. He was now a Malingard agent, something his parents could be proud of. Of course after four years with Malingard, Akira was slowly becoming disillusioned. Over time his disbelief at getting a job with the Goliath of the security world had slowly changed into disbelief at how he had accepted a contract with the company. In hindsight Akira had felt like he’d signed away his freedom.
Contracts with Malingard were more than just the standard employment contracts. Hidden amongst the typical conditions of salary and position duties were clauses that gave the company an unnatural control over almost every aspect of its employee’s lives. Under the blinding shine of the six figure starting salary lurked a series of clauses that forced employee’s to live where the company told them to live, eat what the company gave them to eat and wear what the company supplied them with. For a directionless graduate, shadowed by years of student loans, the shackles scattered through the contract were masked by all the prestige and money that Malingard could offer them. But as with all things, the sweet taste of the heavy pay checks slowly turned bitter in Akira’s mouth as the restrictions of his new life began to smoother him.
Slipping a plain black tie under the starched collar of his white dress shirt Akira still couldn’t shake the persistent edge of unease in the back of his mind. A strange tingle, akin to nerves, found its way into his hands and he frowned at the reflection of himself. Maybe the unknowns surrounding his new assignment had made him more sensitive to anxiousness then he was used to. After all he’d never worked with this team before. Their reputation was something of a concern. And Akira’s typical confidence in his ability to effectively carry out his duties was unsteady. There were just too many variables when it came to working with a new team. If he was lucky this assignment was a one off occurrence and that after today he would be back to his usual operations.
Reaching up to the top shelf to the right of the bathroom mirror, Akira pulled down a bottle of moose and a tin of hairspray. They were non-regulation brands but he didn’t care. There was only so much of his life he was willing to let Malingard control and his choice of hair care products was not something he was going to leave to a bunch of corporate bean counters and logistics managers. He still had his pride after all.
Just as he finished up shaping the tussled faux-hawk in his hair, Akira felt his cell phone vibrate in his back pocket quietly. He must have left it on silent after last night.
Not bothering to check the caller ID he slid the metallic blue Toshiba open and pressed it to his ear.
‘Sir’
‘Morning Reita’ the low, nasal voice of Malingard’s young Director, Aoi, bit out shortly. ‘I trust you have been fully briefed with regards to today.’
‘Yes, s-‘
‘Good, Byou will be expecting you and I expect nothing but the best from you.’
With that Aoi hung up.
‘Byou,’ Akira sighed to himself, unable to help shaking his head disapprovingly as he stuffed the phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. Of all the team’s he had to be assigned to it had to be Dainsleif, the most notorious team in the company.
If Malingard was a high school then Dainsleif was its delinquents. The five man team’s adherence to operational procedures was tenuous at best, resulting in countless conduct citations being filed against them. While it was now common knowledge that Dainsleif’s leader, Byou carried a dislike of Aoi that never failed to be anything short of venomous loathing. Why none of the team had been dismissed was one of Malingard’s great mysteries.
With his morning grooming complete, Akira made his way back into his room and knelt down to a small safe in the bottom of his wardrobe. Twisting the dial back and forth sharply he heard the distinctive sound of the latch click back. Inside was his standard issue handgun. The only weapon he was permitted to handle when off duty as detailed in Akira’s contract.
Malingard it seemed was very conscious of its public image which it worked diligently to maintain. The public face of Malingard was one of a major corporation that cared about local communities; a complete contrast to its exclusive clientele. But image is everything regardless of the hypocrisy of it, so all front line security personal, or ‘agents’, by default became the guardians and protectors of the apartment blocks and suburban streets they were assigned to live in.
Akira lived in a seven storey apartment building with two other Malingard employees; another ‘agent’ and a general staff member. Between himself and the other agent, it was their job to take care of the residents of the building.
Slinging his loaded shoulder hoister up his arms and tightening the buckles with a practiced hand Akira ran over the day’s assignment details in his mind.
An anonymous celebrity client had requested a Malingard security detail in light of a series of increasingly aggressive advances made by persistent stalker. Dainsleif had been assigned the detail and would be escorting the client to a major movie premiere. Due to the high profile of the celebrity in question and the sensitivity of the assignment Aoi had felt it was necessary to assign Akira to the case as a plain clothes agent.
To say Akira was reluctant to work with Dainsleif was probably getting close to the reason for his uneasy mood. Dainsleif were volatile and territorial to boot. They did play well with others and were distrustful of outsiders. One incident in particular came to mind where an agent had been assigned to work with Dainsleif only to end up bound and gagged in a storage room, while Dainsleif carried on with their assignment like nothing was wrong. Needless to say a small part of Akira wondered if he too would end up in a storage room somewhere by the end of the day. Because one thing was for certain Dainsleif would despise the idea of having to work with him just as much as he disliked the prospect of working with them.