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He sat in the rain, crouched like a gargoyle on a cement ledge somewhere around the 30th floor of the Trent building. High enough to look across the street, down into the penthouse apartment of Mala Latroz.
He wasn't worried about being seen. His bird style armor, that of a Grackle, was black with forest green trim, and gave excellent night time camouflage. Using the night vision enhancement on his visor, combined with the new zoom feature, he felt as if he was almost standing behind her. It was unnerving, to say the least.
G-4 shifted slightly, refocusing his weight and using a mental exercise to force the muscles in his calves to relax. When Mala removed her clothing, and stood naked before a full length mirror, the nature of that exercise altered accordingly.
"It's all business, Don...keep it together. She's a killer."
It disturbed him, a little, that he had begun talking to himself. He had reasoned that because he spent so much time alone, it was a coping mechanism his brain had devised. He began thinking of the events earlier in the day, when Mark had asked him to pull shadow duties on Latroz that night. It pissed him off, quite frankly. He pulled a lot of the night shifts, lately. Mark had tried to humor him, telling him that it was because he was so good at it, but Donald Wade knew better. Donald Wade knew the truth.
G-1 didn't like him.
Mala came back out from the bathroom, and began to dress in front of the large picture window. As she did, she looked out into the darkness. Donald adjusted his visor, zooming out by a factor of two. It felt, for a second, that she was looking right at him.
"You're paranoid, Don...and quit talking to yourself" He shifted his weight again, without physically moving. He was in top form, and felt the power within his own body developing rapidly. Not only that, but his mind had become a formidable weapon as well. Lately, his chemistry hobby had developed into something more tangible. Anderson had urged him to continue his work.
"Probably so the icy bastard can steal it."
He stopped talking as Mala finished dressing. He had zoomed back in again, without noticing. It was a deep, royal purple dress, skin tight, and cut away at the shoulders, back and midsection to reveal her perfect skin. She finally stopped looking out at the rain (at me, thought Donald), and went to stand before a mirror. She quickly pinned her hair up in an array that looked like it should have taken much longer, and began to apply a deep red lipstick, slowly and sensuously. Donald zoomed in tight, focusing on her perfect lips. They were beautiful. She ran her moist tongue over them once, giving them a gleam that was hypnotic. He closed his eyes, and forced the visor to pull back on the magnification. She left the room she was in and the light went off.
Donald shifted his gaze to look down at the front entrance to the building. Sure enough, the limo was there.He took a breath and stood, feeling the uncomfortable pressure in his midsection that came with a suit poorly designed to accommodate a teenager in puberty. He shook the rain from his wings and stepped off the ledge, stopping on the 15th floor. He would wait to see where she was going before he decided how to follow her. That ass Jason would have already placed himself under her goddamned car. He had a lot to learn.
Donald waited for a few moments, and grinned when Mala emerged from the lobby, escorted by the doorman holding an umbrella as he opened the limo door for her. She quickly got in, but not before she shot a quick glance around.
"Does she suspect something?" Donald cursed to himself and continued his thoughts inside. (She's a freakin' Spectran agent...she always suspects something. Probably not G-Force, though.)
The limo began to glide through the rain and darkness, it's yellow headlights cutting through the gloom with an unnatural brightness.
"Great...it's a custom job." Donald watched the limo pull up the street, leaping into the air to follow it. He quickly found a city bus heading the same way, and descended to it's roof. He held on with one hand, his other running over his body, checking his weapons. Feather shurikens, Jax explosives, and his specialty weapon, the nunchaku/staff. It was a weapon that he was very proud of mastering.
A deadly nunchaku that could be configured quickly with two or three smaller rods, and the option to turn it into a solid fighting staff. Jason hadn't been able to learn it and that had angered the Condor so much, they had fought outside of the Dojo every day for a week, always broken up by Mark or Tiny. It had stayed between them, their own code of honor disallowing for squealing to Chief Anderson.
He looked up to see that he had lost the limo. Swearing softly, he quickly glanced around, seeing that the limo had pulled up in front of a restaurant behind him. Donald shot into the air and came down on the roof of the restaurant, quickly moving to look over the side to see the front entrance. All he could see was the top of an umbrella moving to the car, the door opening, and then the umbrella moving back under the eatery's awning. The limo began to pull away again.
"Dammit!" He realized something, and it had him feeling panicked. Did someone get out of the limo...or did someone get in? He reviewed the options in his mind, quickly, before he decided. Donald whipped a feather shuriken from it's concealed dispenser and activated it's tracer beacon, hoping that the Spectran custom limo wasn't equipped to detect a beacon as sophisticated as this one.
He let it fly, and watched as it impacted silently into the vinyl roof of the vehicle. From this angle, Donald doubted he had even hit the steel at all. He grinned. If Mala wasn't in the restaurant, he could find her fast enough. Looking back down to the front of the restaurant, and seeing no one there, he flew down into a collection of garbage bins on the opposite side of the street, and hurriedly looked inside the place.
She was there...sitting alone. As she lit a cigarette and puffed on it with those perfect lips, he wanted to be in there, sitting with her. He used the zoom function on his visor to get a closer look, when she looked right at him and stared a long moment before turning away.
Donald sank to his knees, hiding behind a filthy garbage can, rain dripping of the brim of his helmet. His heart was beating fast, and even though he tried to regain control, he felt like it was impossible. She knew she was being watched. But did she make a guess as to where her shadow might be...or did she know?
He sat silently throughout the course of her meal, waiting for her to make her next move. She had dined alone, the wanting in him growing as much as his own self disgust. Mala Latroz had been personally responsible for the deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands of Federation citizens. And he wanted her.
She finished a glass of wine and stood up, heading for the back of the restaurant, where the washrooms were. He watched the chronometer in his visor tick of the seconds, then the minutes as he waited. When she had failed to come out after five minutes, he stood up, cursing.
"Dammit! I'm so stupid!" He activated the tracer check display on his visor and saw the limo blip pulling away from the back of the restaurant's building. He left the display active, until he could make a visual contact, and shot into the cold, wet night. If he lost them, he'd never hear the end of it from Mark...and especially Jason.
He bounced off of an awning and gained some height as he flew over the back of the restaurant. Coming down on the other side, he angled his flight to hitch a ride on the elevated train that ran in roughly the same direction. It looked for now that the limo was heading back to Mala's place, so his panic eased a little, allowing him a moment to think. The train was about to turn away form the course he needed, so he used it's momentum to gain some real height, and glided to the top of a 20 story building about three blocks from Mala's apartment. He could see the limo pull up to the door, and the routine began again, with the doorman helping her out. After she got out, a man followed. A tall man, who glanced around nervously as he got out of the vehicle. Donald grabbed some sky and came down again, back at his original post, waiting for Mala and the mystery date to arrive.
He kicked himself for not monitoring the limo's actions from the second he tagged it, but there was nothing he could do now. he didn't have to wait long before Mala and the man entered the apartment, lights coming on, then dimming to an unobtrusive glow. Activating the night vision in the visor, he watched as the two of them stood close, talking. It didn't take long for the man to begin touching her, running his hands over the places on her dress that exposed her creamy skin. Donald was jealous. He watched as Mala's hands began to crawl over the man's clothing, finding where they were secured and quickly unsecuring them.
They began to pick up the pace, Mala becoming aggressive as she pushed the man to the floor and literally tore his shirt off. As Donald watched, he found his temperature rising, and felt that same pressure in his gut again. There was no way he could complain about that though. how do you bring that up? (Hey Chief, how about some room for those uncontrollable teenage hard ons?)
Mala made the man stay on his back as she slid her tongue down his chest and further. Donald watched her as she did this, his heart beginning to beat so hard he thought it would explode in his chest. She stayed down there for a long time, the man convulsing in pleasure a number of times before she finally stopped. She stood above the man, and moved so that his head was below her naked body. She spat on his face and squatted, grabbing his head with her hands as she did so. She pulled at his hair forcing him to return her favors, with a vengeance.
Donald couldn't believe his eyes. He was watching a deadly Spectran agent screwing some guy with everything she had, and he, G-4, was loving it.
Mala continued to take her pleasure from the man, her actions becoming increasingly violent. She began to scream and laugh uncontrollably, her eyes glittering in the soft lights. As she reached orgasm, she looked out into the night and smiled wickedly, again looking, seemingly, right at him. He swallowed hard. Sitting in the icy November rain, he felt as though he was in a tropical storm.
Mala finally got off of the man's face, and stood above him again. She began to yell at him, kicking him in the ribs as she gestured to the man's groin area. The man scrambled out of the way, trying to avoid the kicks. He grabbed his clothes and bolted for the door, still naked. She chased him out, laughing as she slammed the door after him. She went to a nearby table and picked up a small cellular phone. She spoke briefly, then dropped the phone on the floor. She made her way to her bedroom, and then into the bathroom.
Donald took a deep breath and tried to focus, looking down at the front of the building again. The man Mala had been with was being escorted out by the doorman, back to the limo. The doorman helped the man into the car, and as the man leaned over to get in, the doorman shot him in the back of the head, twice, and shoved the twitching body into the vehicle, which sped away rapidly.
Donald had seen death many times, and watched the scene unfold impassively. In fact, he was glad the man was dead, in a way. The man had been with her. Had tasted her. Like Donald wanted to. The rain began to ease up. Donald watched as steam began to fill the bedroom, coming from the bathroom area. He imagined her, naked, in a tub full of soapy water. He wanted to see it.
She came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her perfect body, drying her hair. The rain had stopped, now, the clouds began to lift from the moon. If it continued, he would have to take better cover. She walked towards the window again, looked out at the sky briefly, then moved to the large sliding doors that opened onto the expansive balcony the penthouse suite provided. She was naked, standing in the cool air with her hands on the railing as she scanned the buildings around her.
Donald sat perfectly still, not even breathing. He zoomed in with the visor to get a closer look at her. He could see the goosebumps crawling across her flesh, the breath leaving her mouth in quick pants. He could see the color building across her chest and up into her face. He could see the hungry look in her eye. She wanted more. And then she looked at him...smiling wickedly and letting her tongue run over her lips. Donald gasped, but didn't move. (How did she know I was here?)
She stared out at him for a long time, letting her hands run over her body seductively. Donald felt the sweat running down his back, soaking through his bird style armor. He tried to deactivate the viewer, but found he couldn't bring himself to do it. He tried not to want her...but he couldn't do that, either. G-4 watched as she smirked, and turned her back on him slowly, as she headed towards the patio doors.
He hadn't realized he had made the jump until he was right behind her.
Donald landed softly, and waited. Mala stopped walking, seemed to tense up for a second, and then relaxed. G-4 was tense as well, his body full of sexual desire, mixed with the fact that he was standing behind a naked, beautiful, wanted criminal! He had his nunchaku in hand, in three rod mode, and waited.
Mala turned to him and smiled, not trying to hide her nakedness in any way. She took in his appearance and nodded appreciatively. His costume was entirely black, save for the forest green of his visor, boots, gloves, and on the inside of his wings.
"G-4...we've never met before, have we?" Her voice was like velvet, almost hypnotic in tone. Donald shook his head in the negative. Mala took a step closer, but stopped as G-4 tensed, weapon in hand.
"Too bad. You don't need the weapon, G-4. It's not a fight I'm looking for."
Donald faltered, letting the weapon drop slightly, trying to mask the confusion he was sure his face displayed.
"How long have you been watching me?"
"All night."
"When I dressed for dinner?"
"Yes." He felt compelled to answer her. He stared at her lips, as she spoke.
"When I ate?"
Donald nodded.
"When I fucked that stupid, weak man?"
Donald felt his face blush, burning with embarrasment and wanting.
"Yes." His voice was a whisper.
Mala came closer to him, tenatively. G-4 made no efforts to raise his weapon. She stood less than a foot away from him now, close enough for him to touch her. His hands tensed on his weapon, fearing that if he let it go, he would be holding her.
"You want me." She made it sound like an invitation.
"Yes."
Mala blinked, seemingly shocked to hear the admission from G-4's lips.
"Why don't you take me?" She came even closer. Her naked toes were brushing his own booted feet. She stared up into his face, looking under the visor. Donald laughed, but made no move to step away.
"I saw what happens to your lovers, Mala. I'd like to keep my head attached."
"But I've been waiting...for you. I want a strong man. I want you." Mala leaned in closer, her breasts pushing against the bird head crest on his uniform. She put her hips forward until they connected with his.
"I can feel you, through your costume. I know you want me." She shivered, though Donald wasn't sure if it was the cold air, or something more. He hoped it was more.
"Are you cold?" He was speaking softly, barely a whisper.
Mala nodded, burying her face in his chest, her arms reaching around him, and pulling him tightly to her. Donald realized that his saftety had been compromised long ago, and that if she had wanted him dead, he would be by now. He dropped his weapon, and took her in his arms. She clinged to him tightly, and allowed herself to be picked up and carried by G-4, into the warmth of the penthouse.
Once inside, her hands began to run over his uniform, looking for a seam or a zipper, anything to get closer to his skin. He pushed her away gently, and smiled.
"Hold on...it's kinda tricky." With a thought,the cerebonic implant he had separated the uniform in three easy pieces. His wings fluttered to the floor as he removed his helmet. A seam appeared on the main body of his suit that hadn't been there a moment ago, and he began to undo it.
She stopped him.
"Let me." Mala's fingers slipped inside his uniform near Donald's neck, brushing his skin gently as she moved the hand down, peeling the uniform away. When she reached his midsection, she stopped, and fell to her knees. She stared up at him as she reached inside the suit and exposed Donald's naked groin.
"Do you want this?"
He nodded, quickly, breathing heavily.
She smiled and leaned close to him, and used her mouth to please him, as she had done to the other man earlier. Donald stood there, holding her head gently in his hands as she continued to work on him. He felt all of the tension that had invaded his body that evening building inside him, focusing on the point where his body met hers. Her hands reached behind him, grabbing his ass through the costume, and pulled him in closer to her. He began to moan, now, feeling as though he was going pass out. She moved her head faster, meeting his now urgent thrusts. He grabbed her hair tightly and pushed, letting out a primal howl that cause Mala to respond, moaning deep in her throat.
His orgasm was bordering on violence in intensity, as he thrust himself into her over and over again, until he could no longer stand on his own. He fell to his knees beside her, and then onto his back. He closed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.
Mala lay next to him, her hands still touching his body as she kissed his chest and neck.
"Did you like that?"
Donald, still unable to speak, nodded and groaned incoherently. Mala smiled wickedly.
"It was your first time...wasn't it?"
Donald opened his eyes and looked at her, smiling.
"Yes."
"What else do you want to do?"
Donald smiled, and pulled his gloves off. He began to touch her body gently. He had forgotten all about Mark, Jason and the others. He might have been someone at a costume party, and not on a mission to protect the Federated Planets.
"Everything."
Mala smiled, and spread her legs to allow him better access as she pushed his hands down.
"Then everything we shall do."
The light of morning cast it's first spear into Mala's penthouse, giving the room a soft, warm glow. Donald was putting his uniform back on, though he was reluctant to do so. He had breached every order, every directive that Anderson had laid out for G-Force. He didn't care. Once his wings were on, he moved to the bed where Mala lay, breathing slow and steady as she slept.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. She opened her eyes slowly, saw him, and smiled.
"Are you leaving?"
"I have to."
"I know. I wish it were different. I too must report to my superiors, and today, I must lie to them."
Donald knelt at the side of the bed and kissed her deeply.
"I can come back, sometime."
"I want that. Promise me."
"I will be back. I promise."
Mala nodded and squirmed into the covers of her bed.
"You wore me out, G-4...I need to sleep in today."
Donald laughed, then frowned.
"Mala."
She looked at him.
"My name is...is Donald."
Mala smiled and touched his face.
"Thank you, Donald."
They sat in that position for a minute, before Donald finally stood up.
"Soon, I promise." He whirled and stepped out onto the patio, picking up his nunchaku and storing it on his belt, behind him, under his wings.
He never looked back as he lept over the side of the balcony, wings flaring dramatically.
Mala sat up in bed, smiling. Her smile was no longer the tender, satisfied smile of a lover, but the cold, calculating smile of a killer.
"I'll be waiting...Donald."