It was brutal, and, admittedly, very hot. And not just because they were in the desert in Libia. Anders was sitting in the Humvee, peering through the dust streaked windshield to watch the Asset take their targets apart limb by limb. He ducked and weaved away from enemy fire, blocking the occasional bullet with his metal arm, rolling into a crouch behind an enemy Jeep and deftly sticking a grenade under it.
A blur of black death against the yellow-orange desert sands, he crossed over to the second enemy vehicle, a beat up Volvo 240 station. SIG-Sauer taking out two targets as the Jeep exploded before being discarded in favor of the Glock, who’s magazine was still full. The enemy convoy was just 3 vehicles, and the modified Toyota Land Cruiser truck at the front had a rocket launcher installed the truck bed. The poor sod manning the rocket launcher turned it on the Asset, but was taken out with a single bullet through the forehead.
The Toyota’s driver must have realised the situation was hopeless, because he stepped on the gas. A cloud of sand and dust was sprayed up into the air as the truck gathered momentum, but the Asset did not need a visual to throw a perfectly aimed grenade through the window between the cabin and the truckbed. It was over in a flash, two of the three enemy vehicles blown up, the third riddled with bulletholes. The bodies of their targets were strewn across the sand like ragdolls, Rollins and Mercer emerged from the Humvee in front of them and started checking for survivors.
“Holy shit that was quick!” Westfahl breathed from the driver’s seat, hanging over the steering wheel. Anders checked her watch, barely two minutes had passed since they had engaged, STRIKE hanging back after releasing the Asset. The Asset who was standing next to the Volvo, sticking the Glock in through the cracked glass of passenger side window and shooting their primary target in the head once more, just to be sure. The Glock was holstered and the metal hand ripped the Volvo’s door right off before taking the black briefcase from between the dead man’s legs.
The black case dangled from the flesh hand almost daintily and the Asset seemed unsure of what to do for a second, before his eyes landed on STRIKE’s own little convoy. The kevlar-clad shoulders set and the Asset strode over, stepping over a corpse uncaringly. Mercer, who was crosstrained in both Tech and STRIKE, followed him. Anders opened the door and got out, shooting a look over at the Humvee in front. The Asset rode with her and Westfahl on their way over, but maybe Commander Rumlow wanted to start the debrief on the way back. The radio crackled, but Murphy’s voice was loud and clear.
“Westfahl, Anders, the Asset will ride with you back to base, Mercer will take the package, over.”
Westfahl pushed the talk-button, static again crackling briefly.
“Affirmative, over and out. “
Mercer gave the Asset a quick once-over as they made their way over to the STRIKE vehicles. There were no apparant injuries, so she took the briefcase off him and gave Anders a grin and a thumbs-up before heading to the other Humvee. Anders couldn’t help but sigh as she saw how dirty the Asset was.
His black outfit had hidden the worst from view from afar, but he was spattered in blood and brainmatter, with a coating of dust and desert sand. The muzzle and goggles had red spatters too, and a piece of bone and grey matter dangled from the Asset’s hair on his forehead. He smelled bad too, like iron and explosions.
Anders grabbed the goggles and pushed them upwards, leaving them sitting over the loose locks as a makeshift hairband. The bloodsoaked hair and glob of brainmatter were pushed away from his face as glittering eyes were revealed. She knew how he got excited by a job well done, even though he was blank eyed most of the time. Her hand reached for the clasp of the muzzle next, clicking it loose and taking it from his face. The skin underneath was almost too clean in comparison to the rest of him.
“Go on, get in.” She urged, because Rumlow had already turned the other Humvee around. The Asset pulled himself up and into the back seat, as she slammed the door behind him and got in the passenger seat herself. Westfahl turned the Humvee around a bit awkwardky before stepping on the gas and following the Commander’s trail of dust, leaving behind a gruesome scene for the local authorities.
Anders turned around in her seat. The Asset’s eyes were still glittering, his gaze fixed out the windshield but face blank otherwise. She smirked and fished something from her pocket, taken from the safehouse just in case the Asset was riding back with them too.
“You did good, Soldier.” The glittering eyes turned to her, and she leaned between the two seats to shove the sugar cube between his lips.
“Excellent work, and so damn fast too!” she commended, nudging the suger cube against his teeth. The Asset opened his mouth slighty to let her shove it inside his mouth, quizzical frown on his face. Anders pulled back with a smirk, twisting back into her seat. Westfahl’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, meeting Anders gaze, grin twinkling in her eyes. The Asset frowned but crunched the sweet treat between his teeth, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.
“...Julie...?”
“Yes?”
“...did you just feed the Soldier a sugarcube...?”
The Asset swallowed, sugar having dissolved into overwhelming, heartstring jerking sweetness and moisture, sudden desire for more welling up inside him. He licked his lips, unaware or uncaring of two sets of eyes watching him in the rearview mirrow. Anders reached into her pocket and pulled another sugarcube out, before sliding her upper body between the seats again, arm stretched out. The Asset opened his mouth readily this time when he saw the treat coming. He took it from her fingers with his lips carefully as she held it out. She cooed at him like he was a Shetland pony. His eyes fell shut in confused bliss as he sucked on the sugar cube. Anders slid back into her seat and crossed her arms across her chest.
“If you tell Rumlow about this I will murder you in your sleep.”