A Different Kind Of Soldier
A Dark Angel/Sopranos crossover… maybe others down the road.
Disclaimer: I own neither Dark Angel or the Sopranos.
Sorry if the prologue seems a bit hack to the canon, but I’m trying to find a good start, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything new.
Summary: Lydecker receives a call from an old friend, Anthony Soprano and gets a request for the permanent assignment of eight soldiers from his command, to repay an old debt. Lydecker is forced to honor the request and sends eight of his finest officers to work for the New Jersey Mafia.
Timeline: Dark Angel displaced to fit Sopranos chronology, No escape or pulse, slightly dark fic. AU Retelling of the Sopranos’ if transgenics were inserted in the mix, from six months prior to the beginning of the series. No Logan or any of the events of the actual dark angel show. The transgenics will either be coupled with one of the other transgenics or a character, canon or original, I haven’t decided.
Donald Lydecker sat behind his desk, going over the latest mission files from his team in Madrid. 873 reported that the two targets, Antonin Forticelli and Pietro Rusconi had both been executed by the trio of 494, 510 and 197. Those three were on loan to the mission group from covert ops and assassinations, which in itself was a team of sixteen; 494, 510 and 197 as well as 298, 452, 599, 157, 701, 736, 471, 844, 616, 210, 205, 508, and 338.
The phone on his desk rings and he quickly grabs it and holds it to his ear. “This is Lydecker.” He barks into the receiver, greeting with the usual.
“Hello Colonel.” a voice spoke through, a voice that Lydecker recognized, but had hoped not to hear from personally for a few more years. Such was his luck.
“Soprano.” Lydecker grunts out.
“Ah so you do remember me!” the voice exclaims in exaggerated joviality. “I trust you also remember our business agreement?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Lydecker replies angrily.
“Good then I assume that the first payment will arrive within the week.” Soprano questions.
“Four days.” Lydecker says and hangs up. He looks at the assorted files on his desk and picks out eight of them after a few minutes of consideration. He flicks through the contents of each and nods, then looks upward. “Have mercy on their souls.”
Christopher Moltisanti and Paulie Gualtieri stood on the tarmac of one of the private airstrips of Newark Liberty International Airport. They watched as a cargo plane touched down on the blacktop and slowed to a stop a couple hundred yards away. They began approaching the plane as it reached its final stop and the ramp began to lower in the back, allowing eight people, each guiding a motorcycle of varying models.
“I thought Tony was expecting soldiers.” Christopher says, unsure of what to make of the people getting off the plane and now walking towards them.
“He is, been told these are among the best there is to offer from his contact.” Paulie told him.
“Women??” Christopher says incredulously, still looking at the group, slightly dumbstruck.
“No different then the old country kid, I heard one of the bosses out of Naples is a broad.” Paulie counters, “Buck up kid, if T trusts his source then who are we to question him.”
“Yeah well with my luck, one of them will probably get made before I do.” Chris says miserably, half under his breath as the group reached them.
The eight stopped a few feet from the two mobsters and one of the women, a slim brunette with wavy locks and chocolate eyes.
“I assume you two are Mr. Gualtieri and Mr. Moltisanti?” she asks.
“That’s right.” Chris snarks and is silent after a glare from Paulie. The brunette woman gives Chris a quick
once over and smirks.
“Charming. I’m Maxine Gravago. Mr. Lydecker considers this payment as full for the next four years until he can send eight more from the next generation. Should any of us still be alive at that point in time we are to instruct our successors in how things work and are then relieved of duty and service. Is that acceptable?”
“You’re gonna have to run that by the capo, this is his game, not mine.” Paulie answers, and Max nods.
“Then shall we go meet the man?” She questions, not caring about the answer. She swings one leg over the seat of her Ninja. “We’ll follow you.”
Paulie gives a nod of agreement and he and Chris head back for the car. They get in and Paulie drives the Honda Accord out towards the exit, followed by a train of motorcycles.
About thirty minutes later, the improvised caravan pulls into the parking lot of the Bada Bing Strip Club and the two mobsters get out of the car and the eight transgenics disembark from their motorcycles with ease. Paulie led the way up the entrance of the building and the group entered.
“The boss is in the back.” Paulie tells Max and she gives a curt nod.
“Zane, Alec with me. The rest of you hang back.” Max orders, and turns back to Paulie. “After you, sir.”
Paulie looks slightly abashed at the young woman’s positive manners, they didn’t get that respect from the majority of kids her age. He recovers quickly and leads the trio to the back, noticing Chris as he goes and sits with Brendan Fillone and Benny Fuzio.
The four make their way hastily to the upstairs back room of the club. They enter to find three men inside, two of which are playing pool and the third is writing on a notepad. Paulie nods a greeting to the three.
“This is Tony Soprano, your new boss, as well as Silvio Dante and Sal Bonpensiero.” Paulie introduces, then makes to introduce the three transgenics. “This is-”
“Maxine Gravago, my associates are Zane Alessi and Alec Marciano. I’m not sure about how much Colonel Lydecker told you about the project, or the terms of our service to you.” Max interjects.
“I got the basics. You and the rest of the ones with you are some kind of super soldier, like Captain America or Wolverine or any of that stuff from the comics shit. You were ingrained with killer instincts and the ability to back up the attitude. That’s the general gist of it right?” Tony says, and Max makes an indication of affirmation, so he continues. “In my line of work there is a need of your particular skillset that too few of the new generation have sadly forgotten. In four years when your service is up I have spoken at length with our Boss Jackie Aprile, who’ll you’ll meet in a couple of days, and he has agreed to offer a place in the family at the end of the service should you want it.”
“That’s very gracious.” Max says humbly, knowing that failure to live up to the standards of her training in all aspects could lead to recall and possible reindoctrination. This was her chance to gain her freedom and the freedom of her brothers and sisters with her. “For the next four years I agree to the service of your family by myself and the seven with me. I’ll leave the decision to stay after that to individual choice. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes.” Tony answers. “This is the beginning of a new era for the Dimeo family. Sil, get a bottle of vodka, we’ll drink on our new partnership.”