The Conversion Bureau: Setting Things Right

by kildeez

Chapter XLI: The Russian and the Brazilian

Anton didn’t know who he was fighting from the start. He just knew he’d been walking along the line, keeping an eye on the people waiting to get to their loved ones, then there was an explosion, a burst of gunfire, and the UN mook next to him had gone down with his brains turned into a red mist that hung in the air for way too long.

He also didn’t know how Felipe had jumped into action so fast, scooping up the now-dead UN guard’s rifle to immediately return fire as the crowd devolved into a scattered panic. Now, he was grateful for it. His aging reflexes probably would have died with the UN guard if it’d just been him. But now, he was still standing, still breathing, and most importantly, still fighting.

They ran together, dress shoes pounding on filthy tile along hallways lit by yellowed, blinking fluorescent panels. They turned a corner, pausing just long enough to perk their ears for the sounds of boots on tile behind them. Anton knew they needed cover, any cover. His head whirled around, and settled on a door tucked in the corner of the hall. “There!” He hissed, pointing. Felipe only nodded, shouldering the UN mook’s rifle as he ran. He kept up his momentum long enough to slam through the door into what Anton assumed was a broom closet, dress shoe taking it down with a single kick next to the dinged brass knob. The Russian grunted, ducking down to follow inside. Only instead of immediately bouncing off a bit of shelving as he might have expected, he tripped forward, right into the face of a very surprised elderly man.

“Uhhhh...” he started as Felipe slammed the door shut, breathing heavily.

The man spat out a string of high-speed Japanese. Anton raised his hands. “Easy, easy, we...we didn’t mean to...”

A high-pitched scream added to the yelling, and Anton’s heart sank to see a couple of little girls, no more than ten, gazing up at him from a ratty old futon in the corner. He swallowed. “Oh, God no...”

“Ivan!” Felipe barked, holding the door shut with one hand as something slammed against the other side. “We have company!”

A stray round blasted through the cheap wood. In a flash, Felipe hoisted the rifle up in one hand and he twisted the knob in the other, ducking low. Anton followed suit, ducking on instinct as Felipe threw the door open, blasting away into the startled pair of terrorists waiting on the other side. The sound from the small burst of rounds filled the tiny apartment like it was an echo chamber. The first fell instantly, hitting the filthy tile like a sack of potatoes. The second man, a larger guy in a balaclava, hit the tile, and immediately started wailing. He clenched at his arm, a pistol fallen next to his head, his wails filling the hall as he rolled around with blood pooling around him.

Another shot sounded from Felipe, and he fell still. The little girl screamed again. Anton sighed, watching Felipe nudge the toe of the dead man’s boot out with his foot, then close the door. “Here’s hoping that was the last of them...” he muttered.

The door secure for now, Anton turned to the little girls, still clenching each other, eyeing the old man who now sat silently and glared, hands clenched tightly into fists. Anton sighed, motioning for the girls to rush to their...grandfather? Father? With the radiation poisoning the land, who knew? After a moment, both leapt to their feet and scampered to the old man’s side as he slumped against the wall.

Anton sighed, then holstered the pistol and stood, hands out. “Look, I am unarmed, see?” He rasped. The trio only stared up at him, the old man with that hateful glare, the girls as if he were some Japanese folk legend come to steal them away to some unknown world of spirits. He took a single step forward, but on seeing them cringe, he stepped back again. “Look, I don’t...”

A shot rang out, and the glass in a single, shuttered window in the wall shattered. Something burned across the tip of Anton’s nose, and in a split second, he realized the difference between him dying on the floor of this shitty apartment and still breathing here had been that little step back. His hands went right back to the holster as he fell back, ducking low under the countertop of the tiny kitchenette, even as Felipe whipped up the rifle and returned fire.

Anton breathed. The pistol felt all the heavier in his hands. Then, he whipped up, blasting away. He didn’t care where he was shooting. Just felt good to be shooting. A roar rose in his throat. He let it out. A few bullets out the window, then duck back down. Another burst of bullets rang through the apartment. The Japanese family screamed.

Taking a moment to breathe, he gazed across at the old man, saw the hatred in those wrinkled eyes glaring back from under furry eyebrows. The aging Russian forced himself to meet those eyes, his gaze slowly wandering over the two little girls...so young, dressed in rags, so young…

...not too young to have their skulls split by the treads of a T-90...

He snarled, glared up. “They give up yet!?” He barked.

Felipe looked down at him levelly. “I don’t know, why don’t you poke your head up and find out?”

Despite the cold snarl in his voice, Anton couldn’t help but smile. “Good to know you still have that old sense of humor, comrade.” He chuckled as he scooped up his pistol. Looking around, he reached for a dingy baseball cap lying on the floor, probably knocked there by the frantic dash into the apartment.

“Ah…” one of the little girls let out a despaired grunt, and Anton paused. Sighing, the old Russian reached past the cap, grabbing up an old dishrag. Felipe arched an eyebrow as he started wrapping it around the barrel.

“With any luck, they’ll think Akshat is in here.” He mumbled before poking the barrel up over the countertop. A few seconds passed, then a shot blasted into the apartment. Then a second. With the third, a streak appeared in the side of the rag, and Anton lowered the rifle with a sigh.

“Three shots...thought they would be better marksmen.” He grumbled, uncoiling the rag.

“What makes you say that?” Felipe asked.

“Did you not hear their accents?” He sighed. “Americans. They’re supposed to be pretty good with guns, even the civvies.”

Felipe paused at that, turning to him. “Pretty astute for a drunk.”

Anton only smiled, as if Felipe had just told a joke only he knew the punchline to. “Never underestimate a Russian, even when he is on the drink.”

Felipe looked like he was just beginning to come up with a retort, when Anton raised his hand to quiet him. The pair paused, looked up, listening. A quiet rustle sounded in the hallway, just outside. They glanced at eachother. Anton let out a tiny curse with his next breath, more in his throat than an actual phrase. He raised a hand to the family, and suppressed a relieved sigh when the girls quieted down. A shard of broken glass crunched under someone’s foot. He swallowed, and eased himself back to his feet, keeping crouched low from the sniper.

He bit the inside of his cheek. This could get very bad, very fast. If they were a touch slow, even a sniper as bad as the one covering them could get a lucky shot off. But rushing forward without any idea what they’d be rushing into was even more of a recipe for disaster. His teeth massaged his cheek, gnawing away at it as he tried to remember what the hallway looked like. He knew there was a stairwell, one window at the end...and...was there a broken light overhead, hanging down a little? Or did he see that in a movie the hallway reminded him of? Shit, was he even thinking of the hall outside?

“Anton?” A familiar voice called to him. “You in there, you commie bastard?”

A pause, his brain turning over in his skull. “Marcus! To think this old Russian would be so happy to hear a Yank!”

This was met with a bit of a chortle. “Right back atcha, you Red prick! You got Felipe with ya!?”

“Y-yes!” The Brazilian spoke up. “I’m here!”

“Good!” The doorknob started to turn. “We’ll just...”

“Don’t!” Anton shouted, and was relieved when the knob sprang back into place. “We have a sniper problem in here, he’s got the room covered!”

“Aww hell...” Dave muttered. “You got another way outta there?”

“This room is a fucking broom closet. These people are lucky to have the window.” Anton explained with a grumble. “Our only grace is that our new friends have a shit sniper on their team.”

There were a few moments, some quiet whispering, then Lisa spoke up: “Anton? I’m gonna get you outta there, okay?”

Anton blinked at that. “I have no idea how you think you can do that, but whatever you think you’ve got, go ahead!”

Nothing for a long time, except for the shuffling of feet outside. A door slammed in the next room over. Anton bolted up. “What was that!?”

“Nothing to worry about!” Dave shouted back.

There was shuffling in the next room. Then, silence. Endless silence. He thought he might hear a pin drop. Somehow, he thought he could hear breathing through the wall, something being steadied. The air itself seemed to tense up, ready for release.

Then, a loud crack split the silence, echoing into the distance.

Another long moment, then Lisa shouting: “You’re clear!”

“Really?” Anton shouted back.

“No, I thought it’d be a wonderful little joke to watch your head get blown off,” Lisa said in that natural, sarcastic way all Brits had that allowed you to hear them rolling their eyes. “Yes, you’re clear, now get your ass up!”

Anton and Felipe stared at eachother. Anton shrugged. “O-okay...” he replied at the unsaid agreement that passed between them. Finally, he rose to his feet, hurrying over to the door. His legs stiff, he didn’t move as quickly as he would have liked maybe at the pace of a good jog. But nothing happened, no shots echoed out, no shock to his back and sudden feeling of coldness in his limbs. He just walked out into the hallway to three smiling faces.

He looked at the group. Francis, Andre, David, Lisa, and now, him and Felipe…all armed, all with looks in their eyes that told him they were at ease here. He looked to David, mouth working. “What…”

He raised a hand. “I know, we’re putting some shit together right now. For now, though, we gotta get back to Akshat and Chen.”

“Looking around,” Lisa said dryly, “They might be doing just fine on their own.”

Comments

[Time Reaper]

Knowing this fic's war against Celestia started in 2020 now sounds so much more fitting.

Regardless, this was a very nice chapter. Interested to know where it will go next.

[CyberDragon89ponies]

Good call making the chapters a lot shorter. Do you think will get more frequent updates because of this?

[Silver Starlight]

10531558
I wonder if anyone had that on their bingo card

[TheDino27]

Shorter chapters is a pretty nice idea, helps keep the track of 'em more easily, especially given how far appart they're uploaded (no offense). This also might help them come out sooner too which can only help.

That aside, great to see that the fic isn't abandoned and still being just as good if not even better than it already was. Awaiting for the next chapters !

[cogwheelbrain]

Ah, they're getting the gang back together for the first time. (so to speak.) Should be fun.

[kildeez]

10531561
Well, that's my hope. God knows it's been a long and difficult road, and it'd let me keep people from waiting too much

[toshibafox]

10531587
gotta agree with this, anything's fine as long as this interest abandoned or at least answer a few questions first like whose going to survive in the end since I have pinned someone from canterlot dying, maybe shining armor since they already have one of him and don't need two running around. THe only pony who would be happy with that is Cadance.

[More Dakka]

10531577
10531558

"Whatdya mean Alicorns, Pegasi and Unicrons don't count as aliens?!" - Some very angry guy at the betting office.

[verypeeved]

10531936
that's bullshit, alicorns and pegasi come from different planets, that's the definition of an alien! Unicron is some kind of space god or something, so that's a gray area.

[Duchess Groverina]

10531558
A very fitting finale to quite the eventful year

[Silver Starlight]

10532498
"I'm sorry sir, but extradimensional beings have their own separate square and that's not on your card."
"Get me the fucking manager!"
"I am the manager."

[Diokno44]

10531691
Hey, with how fucked this year has been, I'm sure all of understand taking time to write