Especially civilians that proved time and again to be a danger to himself, and themselves. Not to say he didn't trust Dorian, but it was a tight situation, and they didn't have backup. It had been just the two of them on a whirlwind spree of breaking in Stasi buildings and safe-houses, snatching things and shuttling them back to the West. High adrenaline, and equally high risk.
The earl looked more and more uncomfortable with each near miss they had - probably a lack of familiar comforts. They stayed in seedy little hotels and places that wouldn't draw much attention, one room; Dorian took the bed and Klaus the floor.
"This is the last target, Eroica, and then mission accomplished," Klaus told the thief, pulling a tight black sweater down over his undershirt. "Then we can go home."
Slim fingers tugged the silver ring that made up part of the zipper closure on his catsuit, pulling it all the way up to his neck before beginning to braid all of that glorious golden hair in preparation for tucking it up under the black knit cap he had to hide the shine of it. "I never thought I'd say this, darling, but for once, I'll be glad NOT to be alone with you," he joked, though it fell flat. "The calls have been just a bit too close for comfort, Major."
"If I hadn't shot the thug who grabbed your arm, Eroica..." Klaus warned, remembering, vividly, the thief's near capture. "I could have done this mission alone."
"You could have cracked the electronic safe at the last place?" Dorian asked lightly, sliding on his black boots.
"I could have shot at it until it opened," Klaus snapped as he put a .22 against the inside of his ankle, already loaded, and then began to load his beloved .44 Magnum. No, he couldn't have gotten that safe. They both knew it, but at least he wasn't rubbing Dorian's face in his complete *failures* in avoiding the enemy! "This one will be the tightest -- they've probably sensed the pattern we have. Let's try to break it a little by arriving early."
Dorian's agreement was softly spoken, his expression worried. "All right, darling. I'll try to be more careful, since you're so worried about it. I don't know how they've managed to come so *close*. No one else ever has!"
"They're better than the bungling KGB." They should have been, too -- after all, they were German, naturally militant, and highly polished. Just like he was. "Keep a tight run of this, Eroica -- and you'll be paid well when we get home."
The response was remarkably dry for the British man. "Darling, I'll just be glad to escape unscathed at this point..." /And for you to do the same./
"Get this information for NATO, Eroica, and you can escape unscathed from Money-bug, too." An equally dry comment, and Klaus slid his shoulder holster on. "Let's go."
With a little roll of his eyes, Dorian stuffed his cap into his pocket and tossed on a shawl -- black etched with lively red roses and silver-tipped thorn edged green stems. "Of course, darling. Let's go.." The shawl would be stuffed away somewhere so that he could pick it up later, and the cap would be crammed onto his head to hide his golden hair. Klaus didn't need any such cap, with hair so dark and luscious...
"God, you're a flaming faggot," Klaus growled, shaking his head almost angrily as he led the way outside towards the beat-up, nondescript car they had bought. It would end up parked one block away from their point of entry, and everything would go perfectly, and then he would be *home*, in the *proper* part of Germany...
"Yes, darling," Dorian said cheerfully, climbing into the passenger side of the car. "I am. So what? I'm a happy flaming faggot, and YOU get the benefit of my skills since I love you madly, even if you *do* beat me around a bit much, you know. Haven't a clue where I picked up my tendency for emotional masochism, but it's certainly held me in good stead!" After all, he'd been chasing Klaus for *years* with no results other than the occasional punch, slap, or verbal abuse!
"Fuck off," Klaus sighed unhappily as he shifted the junker out of park, swearing to himself, for the seventieth time that he would get a Benz next time no matter what!
The drive was quick, and Klaus coasted into the spot he'd chosen to park -- got out and closed the door carefully, gesturing Dorian closer before murmuring. "Do you have your picks?"
"Would I ever leave home without them?" Dorian asked, raising his eyebrows as he abandoned his shawl and closed the door, tucking his hair up under his hat. "Really, darling..."
"Don't call me that," Klaus snapped softly, before starting off into the darkness in a careful storm -- one that Dorian could only follow in the wake of.
"Yes, darling," Dorian whispered wickedly, marching along after him quickly. "Wouldn't dream of calling you that!"
Klaus led the way carefully for a tiny bit over a block, around to the back door of a fairly discreet building. It could have been an office building, or a medical building, with the heavily tinted windows...
That made Klaus nervous. There was no way to tell if there *was* a trap; he could only keep his gun at ready, and let Dorian work his magic to get them into the building. Then he would locate the room the safe was in from the mental map he had, and Dorian would do his job once more.
"Let's go," Dorian whispered, pausing by the door to lightly pick it open. His fingers were quick, nimble, working almost unconsciously, and then the latch was undone and they were inside, leaving it unlocked behind them in case they needed to make a quick exit.
Their target was on the second floor of the stout building, and Klaus led the way not to an elevator -- that would have been stupid, an easy trap indeed! -- but a back stairwell, and then towards the room. To get in, though, there was another lock. Dorian got that one quickly, too, and Klaus covered him as they slipped into the darkened room, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.
"This is too easy," Dorian mouthed, shaking his head as he walked through the almost-dark towards the safe that he knew was beneath the desk. "I don't like it..."
Klaus didn't, either, and that was why the gun was drawn. Still, he crouched down beside the desk with Dorian, light steady, gun hand steadier as he kept an eye on the door -- a door which slammed shut even as they both stood up quickly, an audible hiss sounding through the room.
"The window!" Dorian gasped, moving towards it. It was sealed shut, though -- caulked that way, and his eyes widened as he glanced at Klaus, trying not to take another breath.
"*Fuck*!" echoed resoundingly in the room, as Klaus stepped back from the caulked window and fired a round at it.
A bullet that could put a hole in a ceiling (and had on occasion!) barely put a tiny crack in the glass.
Terrified aquamarine eyes turned on Klaus as, unable to help himself any longer, Dorian drew in a deep breath. "Darling," he whispered, shuddering. "In case I don't see you again... I really do mean it. I do love you, truly, I do. If I don't see you again..."
"Shut the fuck up and help me with this!" Klaus snapped, turning away in a sharp pivot. Now was NOT the time for Dorian to fail him and go sentimental! Two more bullets rang out at the same point, then a third, and Klaus knew his aim was faltering.The soft sound of the thief slumping to the floor was the last thing he remembered hearing even as he fired one last round...