Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume19 Chapter 3 (section)

===Part 3===

When you needed an interrogation done, it was best to call the intelligence division.

Quenser called out to the blonde woman wearing a hoodie and thin pants over a bikini.

“Millia, what is that?”

“What, you’ve never seen vegetable oil before, Quenser?”

His point was how she had emptied a huge 5-liter bottle when she was supposed to be getting useful information out of a dangerous terrorist, but she didn’t seem to notice as she exited the back of the truck and tossed the unneeded empty bottle into a big metal trash can. That kind of trash wouldn’t stand out much with all the meat stalls for the carnival. There were also lots of wooden boxes and hunks of dry ice stacked up in disorderly piles. Rome must not have been much for sorting their trash.

“It’s all about experience. If you’re interested, submit a request for POW training and I’ll teach you the hard way that external pain from punches and kicks isn’t the only way to torture someone.”

Quenser vigorously shook his head.

If he went on a secret date with that sexy blonde where she tied him up and kindly taught him some new things about his body, it might just give him some new kinks to deal with. And while Quenser was interested in just about anything kinky, he didn’t want to find he needed to be looking at a cold drill or pair of pliers for the blood to gather in his lower body.

Millia Newburg didn’t seem to care.

“Myonri and Heivia are out shopping, right? Okay, Quenser and Putana. It’s a little early, but I’ll treat you to a progress report.”

“Huh? Shouldn’t we go in the truck to discuss this?”

“Our shoppers aren’t back yet and you two are about to grab something to eat, right? You’d regret it if you stepped inside that sealed container that reeks of ammonia. …Damn, I really should have stopped by a drugstore and bought some diapers even if it would have been a little conspicuous.”

“(What the hell happened in there!?)”

“(Teacher, that container is Pandora’s Box. I recommend heeding her warning.)”

Disgusted Quenser and the ever serious brown girl whispered to each other and Millia joined them with a smile. The three of them placed their arms around each other’s shoulders to form a circle and pressed their foreheads together. Needless to say, they were creating a tiny dome where their bodies hid their lips from any possible lip readers.

A dangerous discussion was held in that wonderful dome of sweet scents and girl breath.

Quenser knew he couldn’t tell Heivia about this.

Millia got things rolling.

“First, I have confirmed the enemy here is from Bad Garage. They’ve given up hiding under the guise of some world power’s special forces or intelligence agents, so we can just follow them directly.”

“That’s good news.” Quenser was truly relived by that. “He’s from the Electric Drills who work for Bad Garage, right? What are they hoping to accomplish by sneaking their entire unit in here with fake IDs? They’re supposedly disguised as museum curators, but I doubt they’re only interested in checking out the city’s art museums.”

“SM-510Gi.”

They were close enough for their faces to look blurry to each other, but Putana clearly frowned in confusion.

“That’s a model number for a vehicle’s electronic lock. A Faith Organization model.”

“You really learned your stuff in Lost Angels, Putana. Specifically, it’s a model used by the partially state-owned Sol & Mani Autos, which makes most Faith Organization military vehicles. The Gi at the end means it belongs to a large cargo model weighing at least 10 tons. Since he had the decoder for one, his job must be to unlock and steal a vehicle like that. Probably 60-70% of the trucks driving in Rome would fit that profile.”

“But why?” asked Quenser mostly on reflex, his forehead still against theirs.

Were they going to steal a truck in the city since they couldn’t get one past the highly-secure front gate? To carry something? But if they sent their people in and stole an empty truck in Rome, they would have no way to load the cargo they had left outside. A 10ton truck could be a deadly weapon in and of itself, but if the Electric Drills saw themselves as professional soldiers, they would have snuck in more convenient weapons like guns or bombs.

However, three seconds passed without a response. Quenser frowned.

“Wait, Millia. Don’t tell me you got a little too ‘carried away’ before getting everything out of him.”

“Non non non!! He was admittedly weaker than I thought and I didn’t expect him to curl up in the fetal position like that, but he isn’t dead! Yes, I got a game over, but I still have a continue left! I’m a pro, remember? I’m offended you don’t trust my skill.”

“Are you sure? You didn’t get overeager and take off a hand or a foot or something?”

“I would never! Cut off something like that and they’re in too much pain to torture properly!”

“Teachers, you’re making the Geneva Convention weep with this conversation.”

Quenser felt Putana’s sweet sigh on his face, but he didn’t have time to enjoy it.

A metallic noise interrupted. He could only compare it to something comical, like a thick wok’s curve being bent the other way. And the side of the truck’s container now had a thumb-sized hole in it.

[[Image:HO_v19_BW8.png|thumb]]

Just as Quenser realized that had been a long-distance sniper shot, Putana and Millia were both tackling him to the ground.

“Hwa ha ha! Am I finally getting the popularity I deserve!? Has the carnival gotten you to open up enough to express how you really feel!?”

“Have you gone insane with panic, teacher!?”

“The opposite, I’d say. What did you learn in Lost Angels, Putana? You know things are dire when this perv seriously addresses the crisis before his eyes.”

The lovely brown girl and blonde young woman dragged him into the shadows. Specifically, below the truck which stood well above the ground.

There was no second shot.

And not just because their swift reaction hadn’t given the sniper a chance. In fact, the initial sniper shot had been odd in a number of ways.

“What was with that first shot? Why the truck? Whoever they were trying to hit, I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t aim for us directly while we were chatting outside.”

“Putana, did you sense the enemy’s eyes on us?”

“…”

Millia’s quick question belatedly clued the brown girl in.

Putana hadn’t been alerted before the shot. That meant the sniper could hide from even Putana Highball’s nearly psychic level of scopophobia. But if they were that good, it was unthinkable that they had screwed up and missed.

They had missed for a reason. 

No, they wanted to hit the truck. That shot had been successful.

After a moment, a commotion grew around them.

“What was that? I just heard a really loud noise.”

“Wait, does that truck have a hole in the side?”

“Th-that was a gunshot!! A parade bottle rocket wouldn’t leave a hole like that!!”

“Damn,” grumbled Millia below the truck. “A spy is only useful while hidden. Especially when holding a hostage to torture while undercover in the enemy’s home country. If the Faith Organization police open that truck, we’re done for. And someone set this up so that’s exactly what happens.”

“So the Electric Drills are letting their captured member escape?”

“Do you really think that terrorist is going to have a good time after the Faith Organization police find him? You have it completely backwards. This was probably an Information Alliance or Capitalist Corporations dog! They would rather reveal our prisoner to the authorities than give the Legitimacy Kingdom the credit for capturing him. Unfortunately, their method of choice is quite effective!!”

“Teacher, the normal police are bad enough, but that divine punishment group will pick up the scent eventually. We can’t let the Valkyries get their eyes on us.”

“Oh, c’mon. If we’re after the same enemy, why can’t we just get along!?”