Rejected Stones

Live by the Sword

78. Live By The SwordYea though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil...because I am the meanest bastard in the goddamn Valley.

-Staff Sgt. Skyes, Jarhead

The tuft of grass tickled Bakugo's nose as he crouched in the dirt, his team surrounding him. He shifted it in his mouth, chewing absently as he used a stick to draw a crude map. "So, Smiley's boy says that Muscular is staying there, in that hotel, along with Moonfish. They're forming up a crew to come hit us back at base. But we're gonna be bustin' their party early, before all their forces mass here."

The others huddled around Bakugo silently. They knew the plan already, but it was a good idea to go over it. One last time.

"I ain't Nerd or Goggles, so we're gonna keep this shit simple. Whiskers, you and your boys are going with Smiley, Pinky, and Rocky. You're blowing up that fuel depo and bustin' as many of their vehicles as you can manage. You got five minutes. Then high tail it, understood?"

Sergeant Tamakawa, head of the elite force of police they had brought, saluted. "Understood, sir. We've got one of those new suits Midoriya gave us, and some heavy weapons. We'll handle it."

"Right. The rest of you are with Princess Sparkles and Icy Hot," Bakugo said, pointing to the others. He had along with him a few pros like Fat Gum that could be trusted to know what to do, but they needed to understand the pecking order "Your job is simple: You kill as many of those bastards as you can manage. You don't gotta make it flashy, just make it count."

"Zére weehl be blood zis night," Aoyama agreed. "Zey know what eez expected, oui?"

A year ago, Bakugo wouldn't have trusted Aoyama to manage anything harder than a sleepover with a bunch of damn kittens. Now he privately thought the Frenchman was the scariest son of a bitch here, and Bakugo was including himself in that count. Rumor had it he'd personally slit Chisaki's throat and pushed him off a cliff with a cheery "Au revoir!" Bakugo had seen him ice enough MLA, and now PLF, that he believed it. For a fruitcake, he was a stone cold killer. Though him shacking up with Tsu sort of killed the fruitcake theory, but Bakugo wasn't one to judge. They'd left the other frog back at base though. This wasn't a water mission, and she was the first to admit that was her home element.

"Yeah. I don't like it, but I like bastards who round up folks and torture them to death less," Fat Gum growled, cracking his knuckles one at a time. The other pros nodded, their expressions grim. Everyone had seen the photos of the quirkless concentration camps. There wouldn't be any prisoners taken tonight, on either side.

"Right. Hurl's with me. We've got one job: Kill any and all PLF brass that were stupid enough to show their hides this close to home. They're supposed to be here on the lowdown, so they shouldn't be expecting us. Remember: this is a lighting raid. We're supposed to be just hitting a minor outpost, and when we realize they've got heavies here, we book it. You get into trouble, you radio for Spiral and Chickenlips, and they come and save your asses, got it?"

Hado nodded, looking worried, though Amajiki just kept a blank expression on his face. He might piss himself at the thought of public speaking, but he wouldn't hesitate to charge a dozen PFL elites and rip them limb from limb with his bear hands. Not a metaphor: he'd tracked and killed a bear a week ago, and turned it into jerky. He'd had some earlier and was ready to go bear, along with some various birds. Bastard had to have a cast iron stomach.

"Questions?" Bakugo asked. No one spoke up.

"Right. Leads, set your watches to my mark. Mark. Show time is in 8 minutes. Get to your positions."