An explanation follows the fic. Really! C&C... sure, why not?


Making a Living
A Golgo 13 fanfic



Disclaimer: Golgo 13 (or Duke Togo, however you prefer to think of him) 
isn't my property or personal creation. In fact, I don't even know who 
first thought up of him, although he certainly wasn't my idea. Anyway, 
the credit should go to him (or her). Okay?



	The night was just like any other in the city-- too cold, too 
windy, and too quiet. The feeble light provided by the occasional street 
lamp and billboard gave the streets an unholy luminescence to them, 
allowing the nighttime inhabitants to do what they did and remain 
anonymous in the dark at the same time. The streets were virtually empty; 
even the towering skyscrapers were dark and uninhabited. One skyscraper, 
however, still showed signs of activity, with a single lit room up in the 
top story. 

	Duke Togo sat crouched on the rooftop of a nearby skyscraper, 
thoughtfully observing the signs of nighttime work being done. *Strange,* 
he thought, *how some people believe that waiting until the dead of night 
to complete a task of a questionable nature actually justifies the task.*

	He knew who the people were in this particular room, and that 
there was an important business meeting going on where the fate of some 
five million employees of Kalu Mesekku Enterprises would be decided. He 
knew that the meeting was being led by a man named Wataru Takaya, and 
that he was the CEO of Mesekku Enterprises, a powerful company 
long-suspected of being involved in "underground business" in narcotics 
and illegal arms sales, among other things. And he already knew that 
Takaya was considered in most financial circles to be among the top five 
most powerful men in the world, and that five months ago, a rich father's 
only daughter had died a gruesome death due to an overdose of an illegal 
narcotic secretly manufactured by Mesekku Enterprises.

	He also knew that in roughly ten minutes, Takaya was going to die 
from a fatal bullet wound in the head because the father had paid Golgo 
13 three million dollars to do so. 



	Duke Togo watched the light in the skyscraper with a critical 
eye. There was going to be a point in Takaya's presentation where he 
would stand at the front of the room, make a magnanimous gesture, and 
state triumphantly, "Mesekku Enterprises!" It was at this moment where 
Takaya would die, spectacularly in front of all his most trusted 
officials. There were still five minutes left before that point, plenty 
of time to prepare. 



	Inside the room, Takaya was beginning to show a battery of graphs 
showing the growing share of world wealth Mesekku Enterprises had 
garnered in the past quarter. "We can see here that only the UN itself 
has more influence than we do, and we're rapidly catching up with our 
competition..."



	Duke opened the case he had brought with him, and picked up the 
first piece towards assembling his high-powered rifle.



	"Although on-the-site mortality has increased twofold in our 
units in Guatemala and Panama, you can notice that over all 
cost-efficiency has nearly tripled. This is a classic case of the 
"guns-or-butter" dilemma most organizations face, but you can clearly see 
that Mesekku Enterprises has unequivocally found the solution to the 
age-old riddle..."



	<click> <ka-chunk> The long barrel was added, then the stock. 
Duke firmly clicked the components in place. 



	"This chart here represents the profits earned in each city with 
respect to their crime rates. The positive correlation should not be 
viewed as pure coincidence..."



	Duke peered through the telescopic sight. A perfect view; he 
could make out the mole on Takaya's face. 



	"And, so, whenever a citizen might think of power, influence, and 
indispensability, let them think of..." He walked towards the front of 
the room.



	Duke chambered a single round in his rifle. One bullet was all he 
ever needed for these kinds of jobs.



	Takaya raised his arm in the air in a mock salute. "Mesekku 
Enterprises! And let them never forget!"

	<POW> <CRASH tinkle tinkle tinkle> 

	The window in front of him shattered, and Takaya wordlessly 
slumped to the ground, a new hole having been formed in his forehead. 
Immediately, the room went into a state of utter chaos. A man pushed a 
button on a switch he carried with him, and klaxons began to blare.



	Duke watched Takaya crumple to the floor from his vantage point. 
A flawless kill as always: dramatic, clean, and decisive. Suddenly, he 
heard the faint sound of sirens from the Mesekku skyscraper. Frowning, 
Duke looked downwards through his scope, and saw what looked to be sixty 
or so men running out of the skyscraper, heading towards the building 
Duke was sitting on. From the way they carried themselves, they were 
armed, and were obviously trained the use of their weapons, too. Duke 
cursed under his breath. A trap had been set, and Takaya's men were eager 
to see what animal they had caught in their snare. Soon, the Mesekku 
thugs would be on his rooftop.

	Casually, Duke began to disassemble his rifle, one piece at a 
time. There was no need to hurry -- at their current rate, it would take 
them at least a good six minutes to get to the rooftop where he was. He 
silently berated himself for not noticing any signs of a trap before. The 
target had been _too_ easy to sight; the building too easy to access. He 
glanced at another nearby rooftop that he had chosen in advance to use as 
an alternate escape route in case of emergency. 

	<snap-click> Duke fastened the clasps and lock on his case just 
as the door to the rooftop was thrown open. He whirled and rolled on the 
ground, simultaneously firing three shots from the gun he always carried 
with him. Three men fell through the doorway, dead. The other men stayed 
within the cover of the doorway, firing. 

	Duke ran towards the edge of the roof, mentally calculating the 
angle and velocity he had to achieve to reach the other roof. The leap 
Duke planned to make was well beyond the ability of most professional 
athletes, but it was all Duke had. He reached the ledge, and jumped. A 
few seconds of airborne acceleration, and he hit the other rooftop hard, 
rolling to minimize the impact. A few of the other thugs saw Duke make 
his escape and decided to try and follow him. Judging from the length of 
the screams they emitted, Duke guessed that they didn't make it. 

	Running, he quickly broke down the door to the rest of the 
building and began to make his way down the stairs. He heard distant 
shouts coming from down the stairwell, and quickly ducked into a hallway 
to lose them before they came up the stairs. There was no other stairway 
available, but Duke already knew that. Forcing open an elevator door, 
Duke leaped to the opposite side of the elevator shaft, using the girders 
and cables as hand and foot-holds as he made his way down. All according 
to plan.

	Reaching the top of an elevator car, Duke yanked open the panel 
on top. His gun barked twice in rapid succession, killing the two thugs 
inside before they even finished drawing their weapons. He dropped inside 
and rode the elevator to the fifth floor, hoisting himself to the top of 
the car as it came to a halt. 

	Duke idly wondered what he planned to have for breakfast as the 
elevator doors opened to receive large amounts of gunfire from the thugs 
waiting just outside. When they were finished firing at nothing, Duke 
quickly dropped down and made his move against the astonished guards. Two 
more squeezes of the trigger, a kick, and a rabbit punch, and the threat 
was neutralized. Duke noticed one of the bullets had come rather close, 
putting a gash in his coat. 

	He was halfway down the hall towards the fire escape when he 
heard the distinctive sound of a pin being pulled, followed by the sound 
of a small solid object being rolled down the hallway. Increasing his 
pace, Duke dove out the window, grabbing the sides of the fire escape. 
When the grenade went off, he somehow managed to hang on to the metal 
frame though the shockwave of the blast, although he doubted that anyone 
else near the hallway had survived. *Not too intelligent, using grenades 
in such a small enclosed area.* 

	He started to climb down towards his car parked underneath the 
escape when the fire escape gave way, plummeting to the ground. Duke let 
go and dropped a story to the ground, avoiding being crushed by the 
escape. *The legs will probably be sore tomorrow,* he thought, grimacing 
slightly from the pain. He got to his car, opened the rear passenger 
door, and enjoyed the look on the surprised thug's face as he grabbed and 
broke the arm holding the gun. 

	It was laughable, really. A quick grab of the head, a sudden 
twist in this direction, and the thug was no longer a player in the game. 
Duke got into the driver's seat and sped away, tires squealing. He 
casually shoved the lifeless body out the door as he rounded a corner. 

	<thup thup thup thup thup thup thup> A chopper! The thugs had a 
chopper! Duke swore under his breath again and swerved, avoiding a stream 
of machine gun fire from the skies. He wove in and out, around corners 
and through alleyways, trying to lose the chopper. The chopper dipped 
lower, trying to get a better shot, and Duke swerved once again, this 
time under a network of power cables. The chopper tried to move out of 
the way, but it failed to react in time and exploded in a giant ball of 
angry flame. 

	Duke sped away from the scene, the danger temporarily passed. The 
car managed to go another seven hundred yards before it, too, exploded 
from the hidden charge of plastic explosives hidden underneath the muffler.



	A black sedan sped to the scene of burning asphalt, steel, and 
rubber, and skidded to a halt. The doors opened, and two thugs came out 
of the door.

	"D'ya think he got away?" the shorter one asked.

	The taller thug regarded the scene briefly before snorting in 
derision. "You'd hafta be the devil himself to survive that kind of 
blast. Besides, I sure as hell ain't gonna search the flames for a body. 
Probably vapor up in the smoke by now."



	As the black sedan drove away from the scene, a shape stirred in 
the alleyway nearby. Duke Togo. Typical. *If I had a yen for every time 
someone's tried to kill me by bombing my car, I'd be a rich man by now.*

	Which, after a moment's thought, he decided he was. Even though 
the whole operation was a trap, the client's money was real enough, and 
was sitting safely in his Swiss account. Interesting, Duke thought, how 
the others had been waiting for him to kill Takaya. Obviously, Takaya was 
just a figurehead, expendable, while the real power controlling Mesekku 
was still safe and completely unknown. Or, Duke wondered, was his 
"client" actually in league with Mesekku? 

	With a mental shrug, Duke decided that it didn't really matter. He had 
done the job the money was in the bank, and it was time to go home. 
Raising his hand, Duke hailed a late taxicab to head for the airport. 
After completing every job, Duke always took the next few days off to 
relax a bit and unwind, and this time would be no exception. Duke smiled 
to himself, thinking about the company he was about to keep.



Later...



Godai: Yotsuya! Hands off that ramen! Kyoko made that especially for me!

Yotsuya: Indeed? <taking another bite> Kyoko's cooking is exquisite, 
isn't it? 

Godai: Hey! You've already eaten more than half of it already! Give it back!

Yotsuya: You should learn to keep a better eye on your food, or you will 
never begin to appreciate its worth. <slurp gulp> Consider yourself 
fortunate that I am here to teach you such lessons.

Godai: ..... <sniffs the air suspiciously before wrinkling his nose in 
disgust> Yotsuya, you reek of smoke! And look at your coat -- there's a 
nasty tear in it. Just what _have_ you been doing before you got here?

Yotsuya: That is none of your concern.


end.



    <puts hand behind head> Heh heh. Well, obviously, this fic wasn't meant 
to be taken very serious, if the company name "Kalu Mesekku" wasn't 
enough of a tip-off for you. Yeah, the fic is pretty lame, but the idea 
got in my head and just wouldn't leave me alone until I had committed it 
to disk.

    Has anyone else seen the resemblance between our favorite mystery 
voyeur and the most famous assassin in the world? I dunno... whenever I 
see Yotsuya heading off to work, I can't help but think anything else. 
So, the question remains of why the worlds most feared assassin would 
live in a dinky little place like Maison Ikkoku. The homey atmosphere, 
maybe? <grin> Maybe he just wants to get his hands on Akemi (seriously, 
though, don't you think that Yotsuya and Akemi might...). 

    Yeah, and before you ask, no, I don't know squat about firearms and 
that stuff. I own the first volume of Gunsmith Cats; that's about as 
learned as I'll probably ever get. :^)

    O-kay. I think I see the irate Maison Ikkoku fans and Golgo 13 fans 
starting to form a lynch mob here, so I'm quitting while I'm ahead. I 
just needed to get this idea out of my system for good, though. Thanks 
for listening!

---
Raphael See