Author’s Note: This story officially now has a title! This week you’ll be getting three postings as it’s a large section that needs a few posts.
2nd Author’s Note: This story became much longer than the original … considering the two original stories were 10 pgs total, and at the moment I’m just at 90 pgs yeah it’s slightly longer!! Included in this story is more background on Hannibal, and what he’s been doing while waiting for Don to grow up, so you’ll be seeing new characters from different Clans.
Paul Mallory knew the moment he stepped into his hotel room, that someone else was inside. He pulled his gun, forgo the lights and moved into the sitting area. The patio doors were wide open, letting in the cool evening air. The resort was quiet, only sounds of native birds and wildlife could be heard. There was a Monitor Lizard lounging in the room, nose pointing at his bathroom, he wasn’t quite sure what subspecies it was, but knew it was a water version. As he found it lounging in his bathtub a few times, which is likely why it was pissed off someone had stolen his spot. It was about the size of his Iguana at home, but more muted in colors. He gave it a pat as he passed by, it hissed lightly, still glaring at the door.
He tilted his head, hearing singing coming from his bathroom, with a deep pained sigh he put his gun away and opened the door, there was only one person he knew who would break into his hotel room, and use his bath. “What are you doing in my bathtub?”
Well that was what he thought was said, considering his guest was practically nose deep under the water. “Get out…” He paused, then closed his eyes and asked God why he was cursed with such a creature. “Did you just fart?”
“How did you know?” He looked around the sauna jets was working full blast, creating many bubbles.
“I know you, and there’s a toxic cloud above the water.” Paul grabbed a towel and tossed it at his guest. “Out.”
Hannibal King stood in the tub, shaking like a dog to get the excess water off of him. He gave Paul a lear and thrust his hips and waggled his eyebrows.
“You can shake it at me as many times as you want, still not interested.” He stepped out of the room, tore a piece of lettuce from King’s obvious lunch, and handed to the lizard, who then scurried off to the porch.
“Your lizard about attacked me when I broke into your room.” He tossed the towel into the floor and shimmied into his jeans. “By the way for a Double-O you suck at security.”
“I have an attack lizard.” He rolled his eyes, and moved to the safe with a flick of his wrist it unlocked, and pulled out some folders. “Besides I left my door unlocked so the guy, whose organization I’m trying to weasel into, could send his goons to search it. Even left my briefcase on the table, with some false information.”
“That’s sneaky.” Hannibal crashed onto the couch, one leg over the back the other on floor, he gave Paul a saucy grin.
“Spy. It’s what we do.” He ignored the wanton display. “I called you a week ago, took you awhile to get here.”
“Was having tea with the Dalai Lama.” He shifted until sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on, see if there was any good porn.
Paul glanced over at him, blinked a few times, then shook his head. It was very likely Hannibal actually had tea with the Dalai Lama, then reached over and clicked off the TV. “No porn.”
“Dude it’s like you know me!” King stood and moved over to the small desk, taking a seat across from the table. “So what’s up?”
“I got a lead on Chang.”
Hannibal was suddenly paying attention.
They were an unlikely friendship. King was as rambunctious as Paul was reserved. No one in either of their histories would assumed the two would have built a long lasting friendship over the past ten years.
Hannibal had met Paul, back in 1995. In the twenty years since he’d left New York, he had only gotten close to Chang, the North Vietnamese General twice. Both times the bastard slipped through his fingers.
This time had been a fluke.
It had been a bad month, Blade sent him photos of Don from his graduation from the Police Academy, looking young and adorable in his Policeman’s Uniform. He had been tempted to go home, claim what was his, but knew … deep down it wasn’t time. So instead he got drunk, which is difficult for a Vampire, but Hannibal succeeded at difficult. Ended up in a bar fight, picked up by Wales, who was huge for a Meridius, and dumped into a bath. As he floundered, finally sitting up shaking the water out of his long hair, he was being glared at by Blossom, who could rip your balls off just as quickly as suck them off.
She ordered her girls to get him cleaned, afterwards they dragged him in front of her, butt naked. She frowned, slapped his flabby belly then walked around him, also giving his flabby ass a smack. “You expect your handsome man to want you in this state?” She waved her hand up and down.
“You’re pointing to all of me.”
She just blinked at him, then snapped her fingers. “This is Shao Jun. She’s going to kick your ass, until you are not as pathetic.”
He gave her a cocky grin, only to find himself staring at the ceiling, and he was sure a few ribs were broken. The young woman looked down at him with no sympathy. “I may have been the Emperor’s whore at one point, but not yours. Besides I have a handsome Mate, that makes you look silly.”
“Well that’s just insulting.” He choked out as he struggled to stand, only to see said Mate, leaning against the door. “Okay, he’s hot.”
Wales laughed loudly. “Don’t be too hard on him my love.”
Blossom gave him an evil smirk.
He was going to die, but damn what a way to go.
He spent a few months, at Lady Blossom’s Pleasure House, and learned a lot about himself. They helped him get his head back on straight, and enhanced his fighting techniques. After all this was the modern world, and not the Wild Wild West.
Blossom sent him a pair of siblings who taught him a few things about sex – he liked that aspect of his training.
He had been on a run with Niccolo Polo, yes that Polo, as in the explorer Polo, when he saw Chang getting out of a car, heading into an exclusive hotel. He reacted without thinking, only to get yanked down the street by Niccolo who was sneakier and stronger than he gave the bookworm credit for.
“My wife is an Assassin, of course I am!” He pushed him into an alley, demanding to know what the hell was going on. He told him everything about Vietnam, Rockpile, Templeton … all of it. He listened, then took him back to Blossom’s house, and they worked together to deal with the situation.
Three days later Blossom got him into the hotel, as a waiter. He was good with it, played the part of an American tourist, working odd jobs as he traveled the world. Hannibal determined to find out more of what the General was doing in Singapore, broke into his hotel room, only to find another man already digging through his stuff.
He used his Vampire skills to take the guy out, only to ended up staring at the ceiling, and he swore his ribs were broken again. Even more embarrassing, the guy wasn’t a Vampire.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hannibal demanded.
“That’s supposed to be my line.” The guy gave him a shark like grin, but hadn’t moved his foot from his throat. “Tell me the CIA didn’t send you. If they did, their recruitment standards are at a new long time low.”
“Well that was rude.” Hannibal twisted the guys foot, only to have him counter it, and get a kick to the face for his effort. With some more give and take, Hannibal mostly giving, he got up and away from the guy. “Look I’m not CIA, but I’m after Chang.”
“Why?” He demanded.
“Did anyone tell you, that your smile is very shark like?” King took a few deep breaths, getting himself centered. It was obvious he really needed more time in the fighting stalle, even if it was embarrassing he was going to let Shao Jung kick his ass until he could at least hold his own against a normal person.
At the moment he was truly hoping no one told Blossom he got his ass handed to him by a human.
The stranger just stared at him.
“Chang is a North Vietnamese General, I owe him for a few soldiers that died in his POW Camp.” Hannibal shrugged, as he moved around the suite, looking for any information.
“Chang is in his forties, unless he really looks good for his age.”
“Some people are timeless,” he shrugged. He haphazardly looked into the closet only to see really expensive suits he could never afford.
“You’ve got to be kidding, he’s a Vampire?” The guy glared at Hannibal like it was his fault.
“You know about Vampires?” He turned back around, slightly shocked. It wasn’t everyday he ran into a random Chosen One, let alone someone who was either a thief or a spy, though Hannibal was aiming towards spy, he had the whole James Bond look.
“Yes. You don’t do this job and not know,” he rolled his eyes. Not caring that he was being watched finished opening the safe. Hannibal tilted his head, trying to figure out how he opened a sophisticated safe, without touching it.
“You are e a spy!”
“You’re still here.” He set the folders on the table, and jotted down some notes as he scanned through the paperwork.
“Okay let’s try this again.” He pulled a seat from the small table, and sat down looking at the, he had to admit, handsome stranger. He was tall, about Hannibal’s height, angular face, thin yet fit. The suit was designer, and the auburn hair was cut short, he looked like a typical businessman. His accent was neutral enough, that King wasn’t sure where from Europe he was from. “I’m Hannibal King.”
“So Paul.” He drawled out his name, obviously annoying the agent. “Who do you work for, and why are you investigating Chang?”
He put the files back in order, placed them in the safe, closed it and locked it as easily as he opened it. Then tucked his notes into his pocket, gave Hannibal a salute, and left.
King could only laugh. He inventoried the room quickly, not seeing anything of interest, most of the information was likely in the notes the spy ran off with. Realizing he wasn’t going to get anything useful, he left the suite, and out the employee entrance of the hotel.
The moment he stepped into the Pleasure House, Wales patted him on the shoulder and said good luck. He didn’t even see the tiny little assassin, who flattened him. “Taken out by a human, you pathetic man.”
Three days later, Paul sat down across from him at some cheap noodle shop in the worst section of the city. Only locals knew of the place, and they refused to cater to tourists. He watched in awe as Paul ordered in the right Cantonese dialect.
“I had you verified Mr. King.”
He slurped his noodles, then sat up wiping his hands and mouth. Paul’s accent was different, this time held a soft Scottish tilt to it, likely his natural one, which mean he was from the UK, and likely working for MI:6.
“M told me to tell you, to not interfere with one of her own, or she’ll deball you.”
“Ahh M, lovely as ever.” The woman scared the crap out of Hannibal, she scared the crap out of most people.
Paul smirked slightly, then handed him a slip of paper. “Chang has been dealing drugs, he’s branched into weapons recently, and it would seem he has a few American Generals still in his back pocket.”
“I’m not CIA.” Hannibal took the notes and began to read over them, frowning at how much Chang was dealing.
“Exactly. You can deal with it so much easier than a committee.” He gave him a wink, then was gone before he could say thank you, grabbing his noodles on the way out.