Fans and Moirai. Part 1.
My vacation, as well as the rest of the team, wasn't over yet, so I was left to myself. I wanted to meet and talk to Yerinobu, to tell him about my unprecedented adventure in the Witcher world, but he was busy with another Arasaka battle that he had to go to Tokyo. So the only people who knew about this adventure were the members of my team. And their reaction was as you'd expect. Many thought it was the aftermath of me almost being killed by that strange retribution weapon. Roughly speaking, they thought my story was the product of a delusional brain that had experienced both clinical death and a strange coma.
At first they were not very well provided, worse than the commander-idiot can be only commander-psycho, but, seeing that except for my strange story I behave as usual, exhaled and wrote it off to a lot of stress, which I experienced. Now it became an occasion for jokes and teasing in my direction.
Although Kowalski even liked my story and advised me to write and publish it on some platform. As he said, such a harsh fantasy story would be a hit, especially compared to the usual tired fantasy stories where pink ponies run around and the main character is a virgin who faints at the sight of a woman's breasts. Chuckling, I replied to him that the teasing counted, but he offered in all seriousness to dictate the whole thing to him and he'd post it later. Being a little drunk and not knowing what to do during the boring vacation, I agreed and spent a day and a half dictating the first part of my adventures to him and forgot about it.
Only Kowalski was right, my adventures in the other world were quite popular. Within a couple weeks there were even fans demanding a sequel. Soon enough, the fans went from demands to threats, then to pleas, until they decided to just raise the money to either hire a hit man for the author or to bribe the author. The sum was large enough for Kowalski to call me in the evening and tell me that I'd better start writing, or I'd soon find out what rectal warming with a rod and a roaster meant.
- Well, Skipper, what happened after you saved Ciri and Swears? - Kowalski asked me as we walked up the stairs toward the hangars, where the rest of the crew and the bird were waiting for us.
- Shit, Kowalski. A huge pile of shit. Villagers who survived the Rat raid told Imperial Intelligence about us, who suddenly got very interested. And when intelligence comes after you, it's always an Ass, no matter what world it's in. Look, is it just me, or have you become more of a fan of mine than an agent?
- It's interesting, but you're a real bastard, and you always finish the story, leaving me wondering what happened next. - Kowalski made a mean face.
- Ha ha ha. I'll have to remember that. Now I have an extra way to motivate me. If you don't do well on a test or in training, you don't get a sequel. All right, let's go, the rest of you are ready to go. We just need to babysit and follow some Japanese singers. What are their names?
- US Cracks, new to the pop-idol world, but they're off to a good start and their music is great. - Kowalski said with a smile on his face.
- Damn you, Kowalski, you need to get the concept of culture into your head. Those underdressed,escort girls probably don't have a voice or any other musical talent. Let me guess, you like them because they perform in short skirts or half-naked? Yeah, judging by your silence, I'm in the right spot. You need to listen to something else, but as long as you only have those dancing asses in thongs in your head, it'll be useless,- I sigh and get into the bird.
- What are you arguing about, Skipper? Did Kowalski screw up again? - Rico asked me when we were loaded and the pilots were given the green light to take off.
- He's an uncultured pig who'll listen to anything as long as it comes out of the mouth of a singer with nothing but duct tape and a dental floss thong. He needs something that'll blow his mind and cleanse him of all that crap. - Threw a scornful look at Kowalski, like he'd blown his nose in a curtain at a royal gala.
- Blow up his brain and cleanse him of...Ahem, Skipper I think i got right thing in my mind but I am afraid ever you will consider that going too far. - Rico looked at Kowalski with doubt in his eyes, who even squirmed at his words, as if preparing himself to get a very painful beating.
- Rico, Kowalski has gone so far to the dark side that only by going to extreme and even ruthless measures we can save him. Come on, save the guy before he starts drooling and jerking off in public like one of our clients. - I'm waving him off, authorizing punitive medicine.
- Okay. All right, Kowalski. Hang in there. If anything goes wrong, I'll shoot you right away so you don't suffer, because my treatment has a very unusual side effect. - Rico sent something to Kowalski, and when he saw that he had opened the link and closed his helmet to view it, he smiled like a bloodthirsty maniac who had caught his victim.
Everything was quiet for half a minute, but then Kowalski started swearing loudly and Rico started laughing.
- What did you send him? - I was really curious.
- An old German band called Rammstein and their song Mann Gegen Mann. In the old days, they were experts at extravaganza - Rico smirked, and I started to remember what that song was.
Quickly typing in the name of the song and finding it online, I started playing it along with the translation. As soon as I saw the first scenes, I immediately remembered the song and started laughing.
- Rico, well done, you found the right medicine. Just what our poor Kowalski needs. Man, muscle, heat. It's better than any anti-shock drug. - And we laughed with him when we saw Kowalski's confused face.
- You bastards. I thought there was going to be some mantra or lecture on the importance of chastity and restraint, but instead I was listening to a gay song and watching a bunch of naked men hugging each other - Kowalski began to voice his outrage, and we just kept laughing.
- Kowalski. If you keep listening to those singing butts, Rico and I will make you watch that video every day, and in the worst case scenario, we'll make you participate in something similar until you realize that you should listen to good music. - My words made Kowalski cringe, because he knew I could do something like that.
- Skipper, we're almost there - one of the pilots informed me, and I told the rest of the crew to get ready to disembark.
The bird landed near the entrance to the local branch of MSM Records, there were local security guards waiting for us, who tried to seem cool, but compared to us they looked like ordinary jocks, who were dressed up in suits and were taught how to use the radio.
- What the hell did they call us for, Skipper? To stand next to these beefcakes and growl like Neanderthals to drive away the fans? - asked the Private, pointing at our temporary colleagues.
- It's just show business. Most likely they want to use us to promote their singers. Like to create an image that US Cracks are already so popular and cool that they should be guarded not by simple gorillas in suits, but by real specialists like us. Fucking morons,- I spat.
- The marketing department is making us do some bullshit again. Why us? Couldn't we have gotten another squad? - Rico asked, looking around for potential hiding spots for enemy snipers.
- Because we're the first and most publicized unit. The others are still not well known to the general public. All right, enough chitchat. Form our security perimeter, Kowalski, set up a secure line of communication with the head of security at MSM Records. We'll have to team up with them, in case we have to warn them that we'll get the clients out without their help. These assholes will only get in the way,- he ordered his team over a closed channel.
- Is that what you want me to say? - Kowalski asked snidely.
- Kowalski, don't piss me off. I'm in a shitty mood as it is. It's not the first time I've had to guard a celebrity from the music world. They piss me off with their ego and the fact that they think they're fucking untouchable and immortal. Okay, inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Gotta calm down. - I had to get my mind right and start working like a real professional. Because I know it's gonna be a tough day.
And then the crowds of sweaty and pimply fans were let into the main hall, and they started screaming and yelling in ecstasy at seeing their idols. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out.
- Get away from the barrier, you fat zit-faced bastard! - one of the guards shouted loudly at a fan who wanted to climb over the iron barrier with a manic expression on his face.
He didn't obey and had to be knocked out with a club to the neck. The security guard kicked his fat body back into the crowd, who paid no attention. For them, the world had narrowed down to just their idols.
- Yeah, fanaticism is a terrible thing. Team, prepare the stun grenades and non-lethal grenades. If anything, we'll work tough - I ordered and looked out at the living, raging sea.