CHAPTER 2:

“…. Earlier today, the city police arrived at the scene of the crime. The Monticello Treasury heist is being called the most daring in recent history. The authorities are still at a loss as to who might have committed this crime with such expertise….”

A few meters away, two men were drenched in sweat, as they sought ways to make each other scream in pleasure. Beneath cotton sheets, bodies strained feverishly. Suddenly one spiky-haired head shot up from beneath the sheets.

“OH KAMI!! Yamcha, you bastard!” he howled in apparent delight, grinning stupidly as his partner worked even harder on his rigid erection. Tossing his head back, Goku shut his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. The warmth of his lover’s mouth on his flesh made him see white spots dance across his darkened vision. Baring his teeth, he bucked even harder against the man, forcing him to deep-throat the throbbing flesh. Reaching out, he moistened his fingers and sought his lover’s tight opening. Thrusting quickly, he probed the tight heat, listening with glee at the whimper of protest from the invasion. He mauled the spot mercilessly, which made Yamcha in turn begin to suck even harder on him. As Goku hit his prostrate, Yamcha bit down on his penis, causing him to flinch.

“Hey!!” he complained, smiling devilishly at the same time.

“Sorry, koi. I didn’t mean to…AAAAHHHH G..G..GOKU!!” Yamcha screamed, as Goku quickly flipped positions and had somehow begun sucking on his own strained arousal. Yamcha bucked feverishly, humping so wildly that Goku had to pin him down with his free arm.

He hummed, licked and tasted the flesh with a thoroughness that made the receiver moan in ecstasy. “Plllleaassee Gookuuuu!!” He begged, coherent thought now out the window, as he needed to feel his lover within him. Goku happily complied. Lifting Yamcha up, he caught his already parted and swollen lips in another soul-searing kiss, sucking on his tongue and sparring gently with it at the same time. “Fuck me Goku…” Yamcha pleaded, whispering huskily into the other man’s ear.

Goku nipped at his lover’s throat and then spun him around, so that Yamcha ended up on all fours. Parting the taut cheeks, Goku thrust his swollen flesh into the tight offering; squeezing his eyes shut and laying his head against his partner’s sweat slicked back. He thrust in slowly at first, listening idly to the grunts and moans from the man beneath him. Yamcha began getting impatient as he began bucking his hips for more. “Kami Goku!! Fuck me already!!” he shouted with impatience. “You asked for it.” Goku replied, baring pearly canines in desire. Withdrawing almost all the way out, he slammed into the now slick heat with so much force that Yamcha lost his leverage and collapsed onto his stomach. Both men screamed at the intense feelings as Goku continued his assault. Grunts and howls filled the bedroom as Goku quickly reached around to tug on his lover’s rigid flesh. In a matter of seconds, Yamcha arched his back, unable to speak as the double assault became too much for him. Every muscle in his body tightened as he reached his climax. With a jerk, he began spasming uncontrollably, spurting his thick hot juices all over Goku’s hand and onto the sheets. Goku pumped into him even faster, quickly approaching his own climax. With a final grunt, he spilled his own seed into his lover’s body, watching as some slid out and dripped down his legs. Collapsing onto the limp, chiseled body beneath him, both men fell into deep, satiated sleep, as the events of their most recent escapades were being broadcast to the world.

Piccolo couldn’t stop smiling. Things were going too well for him these days. He listened to the news as it rambled on and on about the heist. He had known that the Don was going to rob the place, so he had made sure his own men were ready ahead of time. He always made sure he got the latest technology in everything. He believed in quick efficient work and this time around, his boys had not failed him again.

Swiveling around on his leather seat, he stared out at the city skyline. To the outside world, Piccolo was the owner of several legitimate businesses, but to the underworld and to some of the police authorities, well, worldwide police authorities, he was one of the most feared, respected and dangerous crime lords. Try as hard as they might, no one seemed to be able to pinpoint or charge him for any of the crimes. They never seemed to have sufficient evidence. Some of his men had been arrested in the past because of several silly mistakes, but he had made sure that that never happened again. He made sure that all those who worked for him were well protected and secure. He especially made sure that his two most reliable employees were treated like royalty. Speaking of which….

“Get me Goku and Yamcha on the line. Pronto!” he barked into his intercom.

“Yes, sir.”

Turning back to contemplate the foggy skyline, he listened to the other bit of news. Those fools that worked for the Don, had gone and destroyed his strip club and he was going to make them pay dearly for that. It was a cheap shot, but it was going to be worth it. Right now he had several important goods to be picked up from France and he needed his two right hand men for the job.

“Excuse me sir, but it seems like they are not at home at the moment.” The secretary’s voice came over the line.

“What do you mean they aren’t home? They should be!”

“I have been trying for the past…”

“I don’t really care how long you have been trying to reach them, Penelope. Just get them on the line!!”

“Yes, sir. I will try, sir.” The flustered woman replied shakily.

Piccolo rubbed his head wearily. Those two would end up being the death of him. ~ Hn. I had better call Bulma up to tell her I might miss dinner after all. ~

Picking up his other phone, he began to dial the house, already dreading the shouting match that was bound to take place.

Don Bejita stared at his two most trusted employees in amazement. It wasn’t just at the way they looked, which was pretty much banged up, but it was at the story they had just fed to him. Apparently some ninja had attacked them in the alleyway behind the strip club and had beaten them to a pulp and had sent him this note, which he was yet to open.

The two men had been picked up by one of his other employees, Raditz, who made himself useful from time to time, but was otherwise of no consequence to him.

His first assumption had been to blame it on the Piccolo organization, but when Trunks had said that the man was pretty small in statue and seemed to work alone, his mind had whirled with the many other enemies he had established over the years, and that was a lot. Sighing in irritation, amusement and barely contained anger, he got up from his chair and walked over to his expensive aquarium. Picking up the fish food, he began sprinkling it into the clear waters, watching idly as the fish clamored for the meal. Speaking calmly, without turning around, he asked,

“Tell me again, please, why my two ‘supposed’ tough guys were beat up by a man in a ninja costume?”

17 and Trunks looked at each other uncomfortably, not wanting to go into the real reason why they had been distracted in the first place. Raditz caught the glance and smirked in silent satisfaction. He had always wanted to be considered as the boss’s right hand man, but as always these two girly men seemed to come in the way.

“As we said sir, it seemed like the man flew or something. We weren’t prepared for….” 17 began smoothly, when he was cut off by the angry glare of his boss.

“Not prepared? Not fucking prepared?!! That’s your lame excuse?! The same way you weren’t prepared before the green freak got to OUR heist?!! It’s a fucking miracle you both didn’t get caught at the strip club as well! You two can no longer be trusted. I SUGGEST you both take a hike and never show your fucking good-for-nothing faces again!!”

“Please sir…. we apologize for the mistake. We promise that it would never happen again.” Trunks pleaded, looking sideways at the blank look on his partner’s face.

Bejita locked eyes with the pale ones of the stronger of the two. He knew 17 was tough and wouldn’t lower himself to beg him. Snorting with reluctant admiration, he turned towards the city skyline and said curtly,

“Alright, Trunks, cut the sniveling. You are both forgiven this time. I need you both for another important mission. This time you will be going to France. Arrangements will be made when you get there. All details and paperwork will be given to you on your arrival. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” The two men replied.

“You too, Raditz.”

“Me, sir?” the man exclaimed in surprise. He had never been asked to travel before and could barely contain his excitement at the prospect. He noticed, with a grim smile, at the slight frowns that were etched on the other men’s faces.

“I don’t see anyone else by the name of ‘Raditz’ now do you, Einstein?” Bejita snorted impatiently. “Your job is to make sure that these two stay in line and don’t make another botch of things.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied meekly, not noticing the clenched fists or the gritted teeth of the black haired man beside him.

“But, sir, we don’t need Raditz there with us. We are not going to make a mess of things this time. We can handle everything on our own perfectly.” 17 said coolly, barely controlling his annoyance at the big lummox actually traveling along with them.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on whether you like the idea or not, 17. Raditz will be traveling with you and that is final!!You may leave now.” Waving them off with his hands, he watched as they filed out of his highly furnished downtown office. Sinking with relief into his seat, he twiddled the folded piece of paper in his hand.

~ Hn. I wonder what the baka no attacker wanted.~

Opening up the note, he read in silence, his face draining of all color at the short, curt words that glared back up at him.

“The time has come….

When you will reap what you have sown…”

It had been signed with an italicized V, which looked as if it had been written in blood. The handwriting itself was done in a graceful slant that could only mean that the person was highly educated.

~ Nani?! ~ His mind working overtime, he thought of all the people that hated him, that could possibly have the initials of V, and after several minutes of searching, he drew up a blank.

~ Probably just another psycho who thinks they can scare me. ~

His mind still screamed with the thought that whoever it was had single-handedly beaten up his two toughest guys. Shaking his head, he refused to let it bother him. Right now, his mind was focused on his upcoming raid. France.

Obsidian eyes stared back at their reflection in the small mirror. A small smile graced the sensual lips as the news about the heist flashed across the tiny TV that occupied some space in his motel room.

~ Pretty good job, guys. Even I am impressed. ~

Running fingers through the dark auburn spikes, he began tying the bandana, forcing the gravity defying hair to fall flat. It hurt a bit, but he would have to deal with it. Finally satisfied at the result, he slammed the Panama hat onto his head. Putting the finishing touches to his fake mustache, he slipped on a pair of contact lenses, that changed his eyes from its’ usual jet black to sea green. Shrugging into the expensive Gucci suit he had purchased for this particular mission, he looked back into the mirror and grinned at the result. Staring back at him was a middle aged man who looked too rich and washed out for his own good.

Walking back out to the bedroom, he checked his passport; Professor Sherman, it read, British citizen, everything looked in order. He made a mental note to thank Sheryl for all her help. Picking up his luggage and tickets, he made his way out to the bright, chilly morning and busy streets of uptown. Hailing a taxi almost immediately, he climbed in and made himself comfortable.

“Where to, Mister?” the taxi-driver asked.

“The airport, my good man. I have a flight to catch.” The British man spoke cheerfully.

“Oh yeah? Where ya flying to?” the man asked conversationally.

“Oh, just a little country called France.” He replied, grinning wildly.