Hey guys. I started writing this story a couple months ago. There are actually a six other chapters already done. I don't know if y'all like this, but I wanted to write a K-on! fic for a while now. I originally intended to make this a comedy, but it turned into something a little darker. There will be humor though. I can't depress you guys 24/7.

This story starts in late March 2010.

Chapter 1: The Bodyguard

"Are all preparations ready?" asked a man.

"Hai, Buchō (boss)," responded one of the men.

"Okay, this should be a simple snatch and run. We'll grab the girl while she is on her way back home from school. There should be no complications."

The others nodded. There were four of them. The driver, lookout man, and two kidnappers.

"There she is… shimata (damn)," groaned the lookout. "She has a friend with her."

"A bodyguard?"

"Ie (no), one of her friends. Cute one too," said the lookout with a grin.

The leader shifted to the front seat of the van they were in. He saw a girl around 16 years of age with long blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked at the photo of his target.

Name: Kotobuki Tsumugi

DOB (Date of Birth): 2 May 1994 (15)

POB (Place of Birth): Kyoto, Kyoto Prefecture

She was the daughter of CEO of many corporations. Kotobuki Kenji was one of the most powerful businessmen in Japan who owned hotels across Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, the United States, and Europe. He had also expanded into telecommunications, automobile parts, and even private security.

This also made him a lot of enemies and made his family targets of criminal activity and his business rivals. Often described as a pleasant man, Kotobuki Kenji did not go about purposely creating enemies, but it was a price that came with success.

The leader looked over the other girl. They had been watching Tsumugi for two weeks and had learned her schedule and her friends. The other girls had grown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair with two yellow barrettes.

He pulled the sheet out with her info:

Name: Hirasawa Yui

DOB: 27 November 1994 (15)

POB: Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture

Sibling: Hirasawa Ui

"Shikata ga aru nai (there's nothing we can do about it)," said the leader.

"Understood," said the other kidnapper.

"Uwwaau," moaned Yui. "Mio-chan was so angry today."

"So she seemed," agreed Mugi pleasantly. Mugi was never one to get emotional all the time. She tended to act as the emotional center of the Light Music Club. Yui and Tainaka Ritsu tended to be the slackers. Ironically, it was Akiyama Mio, who was forced to join the club against her will, was the one who really seemed to run it… or at least try to accomplish something.

"I can't believe it's almost the end of our first year of high school," laughed Yui. "I was so excited on my first day."

"Ee (yeah), watashi mo (me too)," agreed Mugi in the manner associated with a traditional Japanese woman.

"Ui woke me up and I thought I was late so I ran here… well I kinda stopped to pet a dog or two, but then it turned out I read my clock wrong and so I was really early," she said very quickly. He laughed nervously tapped herself with her fist. "Atashi wa baka wa nee (I'm really an idiot aren't I)?"

"Perhaps," agreed Mugi mildly.

"Eeeh? Mugi-chan you're supposed to say I'm not an idiot!" whined Yui banging on Mugi with her fists in a comical fashion.

"Gomen, gomen (sorry, sorry)," apologized Mugi backing away from Yui and towards a parked van that in retrospect had no business being there.

The side door slid open and grabbed Mugi. One hand closed over her mouth and the other jammed an auto-injector (1) into her neck. Mugi's eyes were wide in panic and fear, but then slowly closed and her body went limp.

Yui was completely shocked. Her voice failed her and she started to run towards the men. One of the kidnappers pulled Mugi into the van while the other drew out a taser and leveled it at Yui's head. Without thinking Yui swung her school bag and struck him across the face. The man yelled in pain and dropped the taser. Clutching his face in obvious pain he jumped into the van. The door slid closed and the van raced away.

Yui fell to her knees. Her body was numb with shock. Her face convulsed and her body shuddered as she let out a sob. If anyone had seen her it would have appeared the poor girl was falling apart. Yui's sobs became cries. She wanted to be sick.

A woman looked out her window to see what the noise in the alley was and saw a girl crying alone. Concerned she went into the alley and saw Yui alone. What was had was there were two school bags, but one girl and a weapon lying two meters away (2).

Three Hours Later

"Yui-san, you mustn't blame yourself. Everything is okay now," assured a police detective. "We arrested the men and your friend Kotobuki-san is safe now."

"But she's in the hospital!" cried Yui who was half hysterical.

'Poor girl,' thought the detective. "Daijōbu desu yo (Everything is okay). She will be released later this week. She is just being kept for observation. Now, Yui-san, is there anything you heard the men say. Anything at all?"

"Ie, they didn't say a thing," said Yui sniffled. "Gomennasai. I wish I be more helpful."

"Ieie (that's okay), you've done great. Will your parents be coming to pick you up?"

"Ie (no), they're abroad right now. They're reporters (3). Can I see Mugi-chan?"

"Of course."

Yui was taking from the police station to the hospital. Along the way she stared out of the passenger's seat of the unmarked car the detective drove. Her eyes were dull and unfocused as if she was seeing something only she could see. Hirasawa Yui had never looked so lifeless.

"Mugi-chan!" cried Yui when she saw Mugi sitting up in her bed reading a book.

"Ah, Yui-chan, daijōbu desu ka?" asked Mugi inquiring about her health.

"Mugi-chan," sobbed Yui. "I was so scared. I couldn't do anything."

"Yui-chan, it's not your job to do that," said Mugi kindly. "You might have been hurt by them if you had."

"I so was scared," repeated Yui now clinging onto Mugi. Mugi smiled and patted her friend on her head.

"Tsumugi?"

Mugi and Yui looked up to see an older man at the door. He had grey hair and behind his glasses were the same blue eyes as Mugi's. He also had the same thick eyebrows as Mugi and was escorted by three men in business suits who the man signaled to stay outside.

"Oto-san (father)," said Mugi happily. She hadn't seen her father for several days.

"Tsumugi, thank Kami-sama you are okay. I was so worried. I left as soon as I hear," he said.

Mugi was internally very impressed. Her father had been in Tokyo. It probably meant he ran right out of a meeting and been travelling none stop.

"Sumimasen (excuse me)," he said bowing to Yui. "I haven't introduced myself. Hajimemashite watashi wa Tsumugi no oto-san Kotobuki Kenji degozaimasu. Dozo yoroshiku onegaishimasu (4)."

"Hirasawa Yui," said Yui returning the bow.

"I apologize for everything that has happened to you today," he said taking a seat at his daughter's side. "And you to Tsumugi. I'm going to higher your own personal bodyguard. As soon as you are released I'll schedule you meet candidates."

Kenji already had his own bodyguard being the head of the family and the company. So did his wife because she too helped in the day to day operations of the company and frequently travelled. Mugi was a kid in school and they had never thought that she would need one until later.

"Yokatta (I'm so relieved)," said Yui. "So now this won't ever happen again."

"I suppose," said Mugi a little less enthusiastic. "Do I get to choose?"

"Of course," said Kenji. "I'll look for someone who can accommodate your personal activities and make sure your normal life isn't too disrupted."

"Arigato, Oto-san. Who are the candidates?"

Nangarhar Province, Islamic Republic of Afghanistan

"Good morning Afghanistan!" said an overly energetic voice over the radio. "It's hot out and there are lots of angry Taliban out there who want to kill you, but what else in new in this arid wasteland that we all seem to be willing to fight over? And half these guys ain't even from here, ain't that a riot? They're coming from Pakistan, Iran, and some as far away as France to defend this country. Coming up on US Armed Forces Radio is this week's top ten."

"Ugh," groaned a young man. "What time is it?"

He was in cave. One of many throughout Afghanistan. Some natural, some not. There were three occupants all quite young for their profession.

The oldest was a Japanese-American man named Saito Robert Kamisaka. He was about 6 feet tall, very dark brown eyes, and a few scars on his face and one on his neck. His hair was black and little long. Saito hadn't seen a barber in nearly a month or a shower in two weeks. He stank. He was covered in dirt, mud, clay, blood, gun oil, and machine oil. The only thing clean on him was his teeth.

The second was John Eli Edelstein, he was the same height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. He was similarly scarred. The third was a girl, Anya Elena Kamarov, a Russian-American girl about 5 ft 5 in with shoulder-length dark hair and grey eyes.

"Jack, Anya, did either of you call NATO's provincial HQ?"

"Nope," they answered in unison.

"You know we don't get paid if we don't tell them we finished clearing these caves."

"So?" said Jack trying not act embarrassed.

"They're paying us $10,000 to clear the Taliban out. Our cut is 25-percent each. That's fair amount of money," said Anya.

"And why didn't you call them?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Guys!" shouted Saito. "We spent four days clearing six caves full of Taliban fighters. We've destroyed two bomb factories, a communication post, and two armories. Let's not attract them with all this noise. I don't think they'll be too happy to see us."

"Sure they will," said Anya. "They'll be thrilled… to have a chance to kill us."

"True," agreed Jack. "Especially me, the Jew."

"Keep it down for a sec'," said Saito dialing a number with his satellite phone. "Hello, Colonel Parker? This is Kamisaka from Augur Security Incorporate. Yeah, we did it. Good news too, we cleared out a bomb making facility with some IEDs (improvise explosive devices). Yeah, do we get extra for that? No? How about armories?"

"Putz," grumbled Jack.

"Yes, sir… another contract? Okay, what?" asked Saito.

"Oh this should be good," said Anya.

"I understand. We'll get on it. Can you do the paper work with our company? Thank you, Colonel," said Saito. He hung up.

"What's the plan, Bobby?" asked Jack. They usually called him by his middle name.

"An international press convoy got ambushed headed north out of Jalalabad. Reporters and journalists are missing. The Uncle Sam is out and about looking for them. So are the Limeys, Frenchies, and Jerry (9)," said Saito. He pulled out a battered map of southern Afghanistan. At the top was written with a marker Home, Away from Home.

"What's the SITREP (situation report)?" asked Anya.

"Several dozen reporters, support crew, and journalists were captured by Taliban fighters. US Army Rangers managed to save a bunch. The British Army has the Kumar River valley sealed off north of us. The Bundeswehr (Federal Forces/German Army) have the mountains northeast closed off so they can't escape into the center of the country," said Saito pointing to the border of Nangarhar and Laghman Provinces. "US Marines and Army have the east and south covered. They're closing in from all sides and we're in the middle of it. They think we can intercept some fighters a recon drone is following."

"How much are we being paid?" asked Jack.

"BBC World News will pay 100 Pounds for every one of their employees we recover. CNN 200 Dollars. New York Times 250 Dollars. Die Zeit (10) 125 Euros. NHK News 10,000 Yen. Asahi Shinbun 15,000 Yen."

"Descent payday, but only if we can get more than one," said Anya. All their payments were split with a fraction going to the company. One quarter to each member of the four-man team and the remaining quarter to the company. They were Hitokiri Team, one of the best team ASI (Augur Security Incorporated) had operating in central Asia that frequently worked in conjunction with other units.

"Let's get moving," said Saito.

"Sounds good," said Jack picking up his H&K MP-5A3 SD (11). It was his secondary weapon. Jack was a sniper by training and his gun of choice was an old M21 semi-auto sniper rifle. His sidearm was an H&K USP 45 compact. Anya carried a Colt M4A1 carbine with foregrip and ACOG scope. She was the team's demolitionist and carried a few blocks of C4 plastic explosives. Her sidearm was also a USP 45. Saito also carried an M4A1. He was also an accomplished marksman, not quite on Jack's level, he was primarily the close combat specialist. He carried a costume Colt 45, one S&W Model 29, and a Remington 870 shotgun. They all carried Ka-Bar combat knifes, three fragmentation grenades, two smoke grenades, three flashbang stun grenades, rope, medical kits, and enough food and water to spend a few days in the field.

Anya covered her head with a scarf like the other woman in Afghanistan. Jack and Saito had grown some facial hair and they dressed similar to the locals. This way they could blend in some and to not offend the locals. Life was hard enough here with the Taliban. One didn't need to upset a community and get that marching against you.

"You heard from Shawn lately?" asked Anya.

"No. Why he still have your book of poems?"

Jack received a whack to the head. "Shit, you don't have to hit me!"

"Apparently she feels differently," said Saito who was busy looking at his maps.

Shawn James Callahan was the fourth member of the team, but he was wounded two months earlier while they were up north in Badakshan Province.

"He's probably bored out of his mind in that hospital. I hear the company has him doing paperwork work until he's deemed recovered," said Jack. "Boy, I miss that lung."

"I'm surprised we haven't gotten news from Japan that he's broken out and made a run for Afghanistan again," said Anya.

"We'll here from the boychick soon," laughed Jack.

They emerged from the cave. Saito looked around the mountains and hills. Afghanistan was really a beautiful country. It reminded him of the badlands in Wyoming he had visited with his uncle. Saito, Jack, and Anya had fought in Central Asia, Middle East, the Balkan, Central America, South America, the South Pacific, and Africa. Afghanistan held a lot of memories for him. So did the border regions of Russia… good and bad.

Six Days Later Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan (12)

"Are you sure you're up for this, Mugi?" asked Mio. "Maybe you should stay a little longer."

"Hai, I'm fine, Mio-chan," said Mugi pleasantly. Mugi was leaving the hospital today. Mio was pushing her wheelchair to the door. Ritsu had offered to do it first, but Mio, knowing her friend's lack of… impulse control, knew better.

"Ne, ne, Mugi, why are you using a wheelchair?" asked Ritsu.

"Saa, it's apparently one of the rules. I'm not sure why though," said Mugi thoughtfully.

"Maybe you're legs don't work and they don't want you to know until you're out the door and they can lock you out an- ow!"

Mio smacked Ritsu hard over the back of the head. "Can't you be a little bit sensitive?"

"Can't you be a little sensitive to the fact that I'm a little bit unsensitive?"

"It's pronounced insensitive, Ricchan," corrected Yui. There was a dead silence where everyone stared at Yui, even Mugi had some difficulty hiding her surprise. "Nani (what)?"

"Well it's just that you are normally the studi- ow! Mio!"

Mio ignored her childhood friend. "It's nothing Yui. You just surprised us a little."

"Do shite (why)?"

"Er… Mugi, a little help?"

"Saa," said Mugi thinking. He placed hands together and said, "You just normally don't contribute to the conversation so well."

"… domo (thanks), Mugi," said Mio sarcastically.

"No problem," said Mugi.

Yui just smiled, choosing to ignore the veiled insult. She had her own problems to think about. They reached the front doors where a hospital employee saw them off. A servant of the Kotobuki family waited with a car.

"Ojō-sama, ohayo gozaimasu (good morning)," greeted the man.

"Ohayo, Nakamura-san," said Mugi standing from her wheelchair and walking to the car. "These are my friends."

"Ohayo gozaimasu, I'm Hirasawa-" began Yui.

"Yui-san," finished Nakamura. "Hai, I am familiar with all friends of Ojō-sama."

"Oh, I see," said Yui. Mio and Ritsu looked a little disconcerted and sweat-dropped.

"Ojō-sama, these are the list of potential bodyguards your father thought most qualified," said Nakamura handing Mugi a folder.

"Ah, wakarimashita (I understand). Domo (thanks)," said Mugi. "Are you guys coming? I've always wanted to ride home with my friends."

"Uh, hai," said Mio still eying Nakamura a little nervously.

"Saa, let's take a look at this," said Mugi opening the folder. "Igor Ivanovich Malikin. Former KGB, retired FSB."

"… he looked a little scary, Mugi," said Ritsu. "Here, look Mio."

"Now Ritsu I'm sure it isn't that bad… eep!"

"Allen Michael Thomason. Ex-US Army Ranger… it says he's a recovering alcoholic," read Mugi.

"How about the next one," suggested Mio.

"Burt Gummer. From Nevada. Weapon's Specialist and gun enthusiast… known for using excessive amounts of firepower."

Three and a Half Hours Later in Mugi's Room

Although they arrived at Mugi's house three hours ago, Ritsu, Mio, and Yui were still staring open mouthed around her room. By American standards it would be considered very large. By Japanese standards it was absurdly large.

"Ano… Mugi-chan, this is your bedroom?" asked Yui, breaking hours of silence.

"Hmm, hai. Why?"

"… never mind," said Yui.

She really is a rich girl, the three girls thought.

"I think I've worked it out to these few. Oto-sama says we can meet with them in a few days," said Mugi.

"We?" said Ritsu.

"Well, my bodyguard will follow me around all day while we're at school and pretty much whenever I'm not at home. So you'll be seeing a lot of him or her too."

"I vote someone cute!" said Ritsu. "Who knows, maybe Mio will fall in love with him."

"Urusai (shut up)! Pick someone that is professional… but not too scary."

"What do you think Yui?" asked Mugi.

Yui turned a little pale thinking about Mugi being kidnapped again and then a masked man raising something metal and black. A gun shot and then Yui lay dying in on the cold street. Her heart seemed to slow and her blood pressure dropped. Bile seemed to be building up in her stomach. It was a nightmare that had plagued her all week. But Yui never let on to her friend.

"Eh… wakaranai (I don't know), eto, eto, j-just someone who will protect us," she said quietly not looking at the others.

Mio looked at Yui with concern. She went through a lot that day. Mugi went through even worse and Mio could see she too was scared, but Mugi hid it better. Mugi also had seen a psychologist.

"But still someone cute, ne?" said Ritsu.

Wham!

"Itai (ouch)!"

Mugi laughed at the antics of the other two. Yui only smiled weakly.

Afghanistan

They had rounded up several reporters, photographers, cameramen, and journalists over the past few days. They had also managed to avoid major shootouts with the Taliban and their local allies. It was fortunate that the Taliban had to go through communities that were friendly with the Afghan government… or at least were no friends of the Taliban.

Afghanistan did not have clear loyalties across the board. Some tribes supported the Taliban. Some just did it for convenience's sake. Other tribes had long standing disputes with the tribes that supported the Taliban and therefore sided with the NATO collation.

"This is Belka, I have visual on tangos," said Anya.

"Wraith, copy," said Jack.

"Wrathborn, solid copy," said Saito. "Do you see the hostage?"

Only one hostage from the press convoy was unaccounted for. Anya, Jack, and Saito had been tracking them for the last 6 hours. Because this reporter was the only one not accounted for the bounty for his recovery had been increased dramatically. Saito knew that rival mercenary organizations and the free-lancers were all closing in on the area, but they were the only ones who actually located the reporter.

"I have a visual," said Jack. "Standby for confirmation."

"Roger."

"… yeah, I see someone who doesn't belong. He's unarmed and wrists are restrained," reported Jack. He saw one man who was not dressed like the Afghans and the wrong ethnicity to be a native of this region.

"Positive?" asked Saito. It didn't hurt to be positive. "You sure it isn't a Chechen or Uyghur."

"Affirmative."

"Good. How many tangos?"

"I count seven," said Anya.

"I can only confirm six. Where's the seventh?" asked Jack.

"It's up your ass, where else dumbass? It's right in front of you."

"Is this really the time?" asked Saito pinching his nose. He wondered if this would be easier with Shawn or not, Shawn was about as bad as any of them, but he also moderated the two. Shawn was also Saito's best and most trusted friend. Saito generally kept the unit together. "Belka, you in position?"

"Roger that. Ready to go loud. Over."

They were in a valley between two rocky foothills covered in tall grass, brush, and trees. Afghanistan was a little greener then some people thought. They had operated in this area for the past two months and knew this was a popular route for the Taliban when they were sneaking through the area, which did not have tribes that especially loved the Taliban. When they saw where they were going the three-man team planned an ambush of their own. Anya sat on the west bank of the creek that divided the two hills. Jack was lying in the prone position with his M21 trained on the creek's ford. Saito waited on the east side to intercept any who slipped through.

Jack observed the situation. He needed to eliminate at least two tangos in the first 3 seconds. For an experienced sniper at 200 meters that was easy… unless something unexpected happened, which wasn't uncommon. The M21 was capable of hitting targets around 700 m away. Jack did carry a longer range rifle, the British made AWSM, but it was a bolt-action rifle and the targets were too close to make it useful.

Anya watched them past. She counted seven tangos again. This time Jack was able to confirm. Saito sighed a breath of relief that they had that confirmed. It would be bad to storm them and be surprised by an extra contact. That was a pretty easy way to get killed.

"3-2-1, kill switch on," ordered Saito.

Three shots rang out striking three terrorists in the head. The other four scattered for cover. Anya struck one in the back before he could get out of the creek with her carbine. He fell face first into creek. In the early morning light it was hard to tell, but a misty could of pinkish-red was forming in the water around the man where the bullet had hit.

Saito hit one in the neck and then tapped him again in chest, right into the aorta. A second one opened returned fire before Saito put three rounds into him. The seventh man grabbed the hostage and pulled a knife. Saito stood and slowly approached him. Saito turned on the flashlight attached to the side of his M4A1 to dazzle the terrorist, but also to keep his attention from Anya. She kicked the man behind the knee causing his leg to buckle. In the same move she grabbed his wrist and twisted it causing the knife to fall.

The journalist ran the moment he was let and ran towards Saito.

"On the ground!" ordered Saito. The journalist paused in confusion, but he obeyed.

"Please, I just want to go home," said the journalist in Japanese. The journalist could see he wasn't dealing with NATO troops. He started to wonder if a rival tribe was now taking him.

"And you will," said Saito in flawless Japanese.

"You are a Nihonjin (Japanese person)?" asked the journalist shocked, but now hopeful. There weren't a lot of Afghanis who spoke Japanese.

"Nikkeijin (Japanese descent)," said Saito.

"Ah, you're American Special Forces, ne?"

"Ie, just a guy who's paid to do this," said Saito patting down the journalist. He found no gun, bomb, or weapon. Just a wallet with a photo of his family, an ID card, and his press ID. "You work for Asashi Shinbun?"

"Hai."

Good, thought Saito. Asahi Shinbum was a nationally ranked newspaper in Japan and had a lot of money.

"Oi, Bob!" called Anya. She had tied up the seventh Taliban soldier. "I think this guy is a captain or something. He had this."

It was a satellite phone and a map with markings on it. These were not items given to the grunts and foot soldiers.

"US will love this," said Saito looking at it.

"That's not Arabic," said Jack how had joined them from his sniper's nest.

"Farci?" asked Anya, referring to the language of Iran.

"No, it's just regular Pashto," said Saito reading it. Pashto was the language of Afghanistan. "Really, guys. This is our third trip to Afghanistan and you still don't speak the language."

The three of them all spoke multiple languages, but Saito spoke the most. It was one of the primary reasons he was team leader. There were few countries they had been to that Saito couldn't speak the language. Additionally, Saito kept the team glued together. Anya and Jack's fights were playful, but it made them unproductive and distracted them from their missions. Shawn was pretty laid back and not assertive enough to dictate orders, but he was good mediator. Saito was the one keeping them moving forward and the others were only happy to follow him.

"Is it useful?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, it looks like some kind of op our friends have in the works. Uncle Sam might even reward us. Bring him too. US Army loves live talking prisoners."

They headed for a cleaning and Saito made a call on an encrypted radio. A US Army UH-60 Black Hawk picked them two hours later. As Saito expected the US Armed Forces were willing to extend such services when mercenaries had something they wanted badly, like prisoners.

"Thank you so much for saving me," said journalist.

"No need to thank us," said Jack. "We got a contract to save captured journalists. It's what we do… for a fee, but your company has that covered."

"Whatever. I'm glad to be alive. When I get back I'm writing a whole column about you."

"We do it for the money, pal," said Anya wryly. "Seriously, write about the GIs and Marines risking their lives for their countries. They do the same work for a greater cause at half the pay."

They were also happier not being talked about.

They arrived at Kabul, the capital of Afghanistan. A squad of US Army GIs were waiting for them taking Taliban officer into custody and leading the journalist to a medical inspection.

"Sgt. Dawson, Charlie Company, 14th Infantry Regiment of the 25th Infantry Division."

"Saito Kamisaka, most people call my Bob," said Saito saking hands with the Army squad leader. "Hope he's useful. We found these items on him and guessed he might be someone mildly important."

"Hey it not Bin Laden (16), but anything like this helps," said Dawson. "Oh, and there's someone from your company waiting for you."

"Ah, shit," groaned Jack. It was not usually a good sign for a company official to meet them in the field. They walked from the chopper pads to a rec room where a man in a suit waited for them.

"Mr. Berman, how are you today," said Saito in greeting.

"Good," he said taking a set. Eli Berman was a man in his mid-40s from Stuttgart, Germany. He was one of the handlers for teams in Asia, not including the Middle East. Thanks to the Iraq War the Middle East needed its own directorate. "Guys, you've been doing great work in Afghanistan and you should be proud of yourselves."

"Shalom," greeted Jack. "Are we being fired?"

"I told you shouldn't have illegally downloaded all those episodes of House. Just get a Netflicks account," said Anya smacking him on the back of the head.

"You didn't seem to care so much at the time and you were also the one whining about missing the new season!"

"You wanted to see what happened to House and Wilson more than me!"

"I see they haven't changed," observed Berman.

"Yup," agreed Saito. "So are we being fired?"

"No, but we can't let you guys stay in Afghanistan. Look, I was sent here with orders from London," said Berman. ASI corporate office was in London, England, United Kingdom, though the corporation's owner lived in Japan. "For the company's image they would like you spend a year outside of the third world and attend school."

"We've been in school and we have the intelligence at the college level. We speak several languages, can do advance physics, chemistry-"

"Chemistry other than bomb making?" asked Berman with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile.

"Yes, sir," said Saito. "So this is because of Shawn being injured in the field, right? We've been hurt before. Why now?"

"Because the press never got wind of before. Sorry, but corporate politics get ugly."

No one looked happy, but Saito had the tact to keep some semblance of neutrality.

"Well, I'm going to sending back to 'home'," said Berman. Saito, Jack, Shawn, and Anya were natural citizens of the United States, but also had student and work visas in other countries including the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and the Federal Republic of Germany. They had lived in London, Berlin, Munich, Tel Aviv, Washington DC, New York, Seattle, Sapporo, and Tokyo. Some of the places they had only lived in for a few weeks.

"I don't suppose we have a choice in this?"

"Two 16-year-olds and two 17-year-olds make up a Tier One Level team. We can't let you guys self educate yourselves. You've been in and out of middle and high schools across Germany, England, US, and Japan. At best you completed one full semester at Mayfield Middle School in London, but mostly you've only been in schools for a month or two before jumping to Somalia or something," said Berman reading from a file.

"We aren't the only group of teenagers in this company. Most of the other guys in the Task Force are our age and gone through the same things," said Saito.

"Yes, but the majority of them stay in stable countries, other than the ones in the Task Force with you four. I mean really? Afghanistan? Iraq? You went to Chechnya for Christ sake," said Berman. "You will complete one year of school in Japan. Not Taiwan after that incident they had with China and definitely South Korea. I don't want you guys anywhere near the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone). Besides you guys liked Japan as I remember. By my count you'll be over 18 by then."

"Why not Europe?"

"I want you guys to stand under my watch," said Berman. Going to Europe would mean them coming under the jurisdiction of someone else and where they could slip into Serbia or god knows where. No, Berman wanted them on an island where they could be watched by him.

"What choices do we get?" asked Anya breaking off from her exchange of words with Jack.

"The city of your choice and the school of your choice. We got some bodyguard contracts lined up too."

"Great," said Jack rolling his eyes. Military contractors mostly handled two kinds of work: bodyguards/protection detail and over-glorified international bounty hunters. Rarely did a 'respectable' government hire mercenaries to do work like attack their enemies. When that happened… it was usually because they didn't want their owns hands dirty and that meant it was probably illegal, otherwise called black operations. It was not to say it didn't happen and that they hadn't been involved in them.

"Oh, one more thing. The US would like you to escort someone back to Japan. This apparently not a military matter and it's something the Japanese want to prosecute too."

Saito sighed. It sounded like a rendition. These prisoners would probably end up in a CIA prison somewhere in the south Pacific. "I guess we pack."

"You're flight is in an hour. Sorry it doesn't leave you time to shower or shave."

"Oh boy," said Jack sarcastically. "Our return to the developed world and we get to stink of the third world."

"He has a point," said Saito.

"Will there at least be a toilet on the plane to Japan?" asked Anya. Anya knew she it was mark of how long she had been in an undeveloped country to dream fondly of something as simple as working indoor plumbing.

Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan

Mugi was walking down the street of the outskirts of Fukuoka with her butler, Yui, Ui, Ritsu, and Mio.

"Ne, ne, Mugi. Can I ride your wheelchair now that you're done with it?" asked Ritsu.

"I suppose, but its property of the hospital so I would be bad if you broke it. Besides I'm sure it has been returned already," said Mugi.

"Don't let her," said Mio flatly. "She's only going to crash it."

"Will not," replied Ritsu.

"What about your bike back in elementary school?"

"When are you ever going to let that go?" asked Ritsu like it was no big deal.

"What happened to Senpai?" asked Ui curiously looking curiously at her upperclassmen.

"Well one of the teacher's had this prized melon in the school garden," said Mio recalling that day. "He took very good care of it-"

"Yeah, and in all that time he whined about not having a girlfriend. I did him a favor."

"Oh, I see," said Yui. Mugi giggled and Mio thought she'd lost Yui yet again to Ritsu twisted logic. "You crashed your bike and crushed the melon, ne, Ricchan?"

Of course there were moments where she surprised everyone by being oddly perceptive. This had seemed to have increased lately. Yui was quieter now and seemed lost in thought. It wasn't the usual spacing out, but it looked like she was thinking about something.

"It was an accident!"

"But you never properly apologized. Sata-sensei cried in the corner for days," scolded Mio.

"He also punished me for the smallest incidents! He was totally biased against me!"

"And why do you think that happened!"

"Because Ricchan destroyed his melon?"

"You're not helping Yui!" shouted Ritsu.

"Gomen," apologized Yui recoiling and anime style tear fell from her eyes.

"Daijoubu, baijoubu," said Mugi patting Yui on the head. Yui had actually been frightened by Ritsu shouting, but she tried to shrug it off her usual airheaded behavior.

"Onee-chan, maybe you should stay out of it. After all, I think it was a rhetorical question," said Ui also patting her hapless big sister on the head.

"Nani?" asked Yui cocking her head to the side.

"A question that's point is not to be answered," replied Mugi ignoring the intensifying argument between the two childhood friends.

"It was a record breaking melon! A man from the Guinness Book of World Records was coming to see it!"

"Yeah, but you know what? Sata-sensei found himself a girlfriend and got married after he stopped playing with melons all day!"

Everyone turned to look at Ritsu, their faces a little red.

"N-not those kinds of melons," stuttered Ritsu.

"What a minute," said Mio. "He's not married."

"… I might a stretched the truth," admitted Ritsu rubbing the back of her head. "So, Mugi. Where are we going again?"

"To meet with bodyguard candidates. Oto-sama has a training facility here for the defense contractor company he owns. There are instructors there and soldiers returning from Afghanistan and Southeast Asia."

"Any cute ones?" asked Ritsu.

"Any ones not scary?" asked Mio.

Yui was quiet. Only Ui took notice of it. "Ne, Onee-chan, what do you think?"

"Me?" asked Yui brought out of her reverie. She thought back to when she thought her life was at an end. Yui broke out into a cold sweat and her pupils dilated. The icy crushing fist of fear seemed to grab her heart, stomach, and lungs. She had seen her short life flash before her eyes. "Someone… someone who makes us feel safe."

They arrived at the facility. The gate guard was baffled at the sight of four girls in high school uniforms and a girl in a junior high uniform approaching him.

"Sumimasen (excuse me) young ladies, but I think you're lost," he said.

"Ie (no), I have an appointment here today," said Mugi brightly.

"Ano, ojo-chan (young girl), I think you have the wrong place," said the guard with a pleasant smile. He couldn't imagine what they thought this place was with its wall topped with razor wire and the security cameras, but surely a bunch of teenager girls couldn't have business here.

"I thought my father told you guys ahead of time that I was coming," said Mugi now sounding worried.

"And who is your father?" asked the guard rolling his eyes. He was starting to wonder if this was a prank.

"Kotobuki Kenji."

"…" The guard was simply too stunned to speak.

"I'm Kotobuki Tsumugi."

He shakily reached for his clipboard and looked at it. There was a list of scheduled delivers and a couple of clients:

10:00 Deliver from Mitsubishi Heavy Industries

11:15 Representative from Toshiba

11:50 US Army for pickup

13:30 Kotobuki Tsumugi

His jaw had dropped. There was even a small black and white photo.

"Ojo-sama!" said the guard bowing deeply and smacking his head into his clipboard.

"Daijoubu desu ka?" asked Mugi out of concern.

"Hai, ojo-sama!"

"But you're bleeding," said Ritsu. Mio trembled at the sight of blood trickling from the small wound on the man's forehead where the metal clamp of the clipboard had struck him.

"I'll deal with it later. Please go on in, ojo-sama, and once again, my apologizes," said the guard pressing a button that raised the gate.

"This place seems kinda' scary," said Mio looking around. It had a dull grey militaristic look to it. The building was only a couple of stories tall. It was located on the outskirts of the city. Far enough away from any tall buildings so it could accommodate a training ground and a small airfield overlooking the bay the let out into the Korean Strait. They were led through the building by a middle age woman who was falling over herself to make Mugi feel as comfortable as possible. Mugi was desperately trying to keep things as simple as possible. She always felt uncomfortable showing the extent of her family's wealth in front of her friends. Walking down one corridor they had a nice view of the airfield. There were a couple of small twin-engine planes and one larger four-engine plane with the American flag on the tail.

"Most of those planes belong to us. We use them to transport supplies to our people in Southeast Asia," said the woman noticing everyone looking at the planes. "The bigger one belongs to the Americans. It just came from Afghanistan. The Americans have some people already here to transport prisoners to their base at Sasebo (13)."

Yui noticed a small group of people walking towards the main building from the plane. She couldn't really see who they were, but they appeared to be armed. She guessed they were people coming from Afghanistan.

"Ne, Mio-chan, where is Afghanistan?" asked Yui.

"Eh? Oh, eto… ano… wakaranai (I don't know)," she mumbled.

"Nani?" asked Yui cocking her head to the side in an adorable fashion.

"Wakaranai!" shouted Mio.

"Oh-ho, so the great Mio doesn't even know where Afghanistan is," said Ritsu.

"Do you?" barked Mio.

"Uh… it's, you know."

"No, I don't. And neither do you, baka!" Mio scolded. She turned and said in her mature/motherly tone to Yui, "I know it's somewhere on the continent (14)."

"Baka, it's probably in Iraq. That's why there are Americans there. They're fighting a war there," said Ritsu.

"Oh," said Yui sounding impressed by Ritsu flawed logic.

"Actually Afghanistan is a country in the middle of Asia just west of China. The Americans invaded Afghanistan after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in 2001. They invaded Iraq later," said Mugi.

"Oh," said Yui sounding even more impressed. "Mugi-chan, you know so much about current events."

"Ie, not really," said Mugi with a wave of her hand in dismissal.

In another part of the building Saito was looking at a bulletin board. It had been a long and uncomfortable flight from Afghanistan. The prisoners had been restrained and had burlap bags draped over their heads so they couldn't see. Saito found it so sad to see what was happening to Islam. The Muslims had such a rich culture and fascinating history. It was made all the sadder to Saito since he didn't really believe in god. He didn't disbelieve either.

"Okay, y'all. We need to find work and places to stay," said Saito.

"A lot of bodyguard jobs, but most of the group stuff is for a single event," said Anya. "And I don't want to be an escort for some pop idol again. Remember that guy we had to protect in London."

"Yeah, and you almost got us fired," said Saito. "You don't point guns at our clients."

"You do," mumbled Anya.

"Shut up," Saito said smacking her on the back of the head. Saito knew when a gun to the head was an effective motivator. Anya was too hot tempered.

"Hario Emiko looking for bodyguard, is she hot?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, why?" asked Saito.

"I found my job," said breaking off a tab from the poster with the address and information.

"But I thought we were working together. We're Team Hitokiri," said Anya a little dismayed.

"Jack's right, Anya. There aren't any team jobs for a long term assignment and a lot of them would require us to leave the country. Here, this one looks like it's up your alley. See?"

"Don't worry, Anya. We're still going to be all in the same area."

"Fine," said Anya. "Looks like my interview is coming up next week. I'm going to the employee support department and see about housing options."

"Ganbatte, Anya-chan," said Saito in Japanese.

She responded with something very unladylike in Russian.

"I'm going to find a hotel for the night. This interview is tomorrow and I want to unwind," said Jack.

"Stay out of trouble," said Saito.

"Sure thing, Bobby," said Jack waving.

"Let's see… no, no, no, hell no," said Saito looking through the available jobs.

"Excuse me!" shouted someone.

"Huh?" Saito saw one of the US Army MPs (Military Police). "Am I under arrest?"

"No. You see… er."

"What did you guys fuck up this time?"

"The prisoners…"

"They escaped?"

"Yes."

"Dead or alive?"

"Alive, please."

Saito dropped most of his gear. His rucksack and duffle would be deadweight. He took only a sidearm, taser, and a loaded shotgun.

"Did someone seal off the armory here?" asked Saito.

"Yes," said the MP.

"What about the training range? There could be weapons lying around there and why isn't the alarm being sounded?"

"There is a VIP on the premises and we didn't want to start a panic," said an ASI employee.

"God forbid we do that," said Saito sarcastically. "Okay. I'll have my radio on a secure line. But be careful. We don't know if the prisoners got a hold of one."

"Wilco."

"Okay. Let's go hunting," said Saito wryly. "Never a dull fuckin' moment."

"So you've been in this line of work for how long?" asked Mugi politely to one of the complicate. Mio was literally trembling in fear at the sight of the gigantic man and his monstrous tattoos. Even Ritsu didn't think considering this man was funny.

"20 years," said the man in Russian. "I needed to find new work when the Rodina (motherland) fell."

"Spaseeba (Thank you), Comrade Petrov. We will consider you," said Mugi. She gave indication of discomfort even when the man grinned showing the steel fillings in his teeth (15). He left the room and the next person entered.

"Good day Miss Kotobuki," said the man in an English accent.

"And to you, Mr. Emerson."

Emerson was soon dismissed. He was pleasant enough but he worked mostly in the communications directorate. He had no experience in protection or escort. The next one was a little more interested in the curves of Mugi's body and her friends than protection.

"Mr. Pinkerton I don't think you're quite what I'm looking for," said Mugi politely.

"Now listen hear, I know what I'm doing and you need a guard," said the man.

"But who will protect me from you?" asked Mugi. Her voice was its usual light polite tone, but the words for once exposed annoyance and impatient.

"Hey, who else is there? You saw all the others. They're either unqualified or criminals. That Russian I think is wanted for something he did in Bosnia. Besides you never know when something might happen."

The door suddenly banged open and two men stormed in. Things happened very fast. One man had a gun and the other had a knife. The one with the knife looked for a hostage and saw a young brunette in a blue uniform sitting in a folding chair near the door. The other leveled the barrel of a Barrette M9 at Mugi's head. Mugi felt her blood run cold. Mio was too frightened to even scream. Ritsu was screaming for help. And Ui scream as her big sister was pulled into a chokehold and the blade of a knife hold to her throat. Yui felt tears form in her eyes as helplessness overtook her and true fear of dying set in. This all happened in less than a minute. The next thing they knew the man with the gun tried to get Mugi between him and the door, but it was a mistake. As a third man stormed in the gunman had taken his gun away from Mugi. The third man fired a beanbag round from a Remington 870 shotgun at a range of 3 meters.

Saito smiled with satisfaction when he heard the crack of the man's ribs as the 12 gauge beanbag collided with his chest. Saito needed to neutralize the gunman. He saw the man through shear tenacity was still able to move and was standing up.

"Allahu akbar!" he roared.

Saito clocked him in the chest and said to him in Afghan's tongue, "You've embarrassed your god enough in your lifetime, friend. Don't drag him into your idiocy."

He turned to face the other man while holding the first in a chokehold. "What are you going to do with her?"

"She is my ticket out of here," said the Taliban soldier.

"And you think you'll leave with building, let alone this country, alive? You know you are in Japan now, eh? You're thousands of kilometers from your home and not even on the mainland of Asia. There is no escape. Go to Americastan (Land of the Americans) and maybe you'll be released. It's better than a definite death."

Yui looked at the man before her. He had released the gunman from the chokehold after the man had fallen unconscious. He appeared to be Japanese. It almost looked like he had been living in the wilderness for weeks. His had was scraggily and showed signs of crude attempts to cut it. He also had a fair amount of facial hair. His eyes were cold. He looked at her. Yui intimidated by him, but he radiated professionalism and a control of the situation. It was the only thing comforting her in her terrified state. She was also pretty sure she had just wet herself.

"Stay calm. I'll get you out of this," he said in flawless Japanese.

"Wa-wakarimashita (I understand)," stuttered Yui. She was too terrified to think for herself. Death seemed to be the only evitable outcome. Her only pleading thought was that she wasn't ready to die. She wanted to scream for help. She wondered if throwing up would get her killed. If she wasn't saved soon she was going to find out.

Saito ran through his options. He had put down his shotgun. The MPs were his best bet. A flashbang through the door and they could do the takedown. He'd just have to keep him talking and the situation stable for now until the MPs came up with a plan and trust they had the training to not get everyone killed. He looked at the man, scared. He looked at the girl, terrified. She looked totally incapable of moving on her own, but her state made her easy to control. She would do as told by the strongest personality in the room. Best chance for her to live was to put a bullet through the man's head. Could he risk being able to draw his Colt 45? Could he put a round through the Afghan's head? No. There were too many things that could go wrong. The 45 was too powerful.

"This will not go in your favor, friend. The girl is innocent and you are outnumbered."

"She is an infidel!"

Wow, they really do say that, thought Saito. He looked at Pinkerton. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Job interview, kid. You?" asked Pinkerton bad naturedly. Pinkerton was a free-lancer, the least respected of mercenaries. They had few rules and viewed as scum by other mercs. Saito had encountered Pinkerton a couple of times in the past. He didn't like him.

"MPs fucked up a prison transport. Prisoners we took in the first place. I thought you were still doing bodyguard work in Miami."

"What are you two saying?" shouted the Taliban fighter. Saito saw his chance when the man turned to look at Pinkerton. Saito moved in and grabbed the man's wrist. They struggled. To Saito's annoyance the young girl made no attempt to run. Yui was currently locked in her own little world of terror as were her friends, too transfixed to move. Suddenly Yui realized the knife was coming at her. She raised her arms to protect her face. Two things happened at once. The Taliban fighter accidently slashed Yui and Saito kicked her footing out. Yui held her arm above the elbow. The fabric of her uniform had been torn and there was blood. She was on her knees looking at the foreigner standing above her with a knife. It was like something that had plagued her in her recent nightmares. She was going to die.

The wild looking Japanese man clocked the Taliban fighter in the face breaking his nose and grabbed his arm. He wristed it and made the knife fall out of the man's hand. He raised a foot and stomped on the man's ankle causing it to break and he continued to wrist the fighter's wrist forcing him into submission. Saito pulled the Taliban soldier's head back and then reversed his pull sending the man face first into the floor.

Yui watched the Japanese pull a roll of duct tape from his bag and bound the man's arms and legs together. Next came out a green pack with a darker green plus symbol on the front, it was a medical kit.

"Mitte kudasai (please show me)," he said. He was now kneeling in front of Yui and using a wipe taken from the kit to clean and disinfect his hands. Yui offered him her arm for inspection. Yui was surprised by the gentleness he examined her wound.

"This would have been deeper if I hadn't knocked you down," he said. "You should generally run away from danger. Only trained professionals need be close to it. Take off your jacket."

Yui only complied and said nothing. She was still shaking. Saito rolled back her shirt sleeve. "This will sting, but it has to be done. Also this will need stitches. I have the basic tools and knowledge, but eventually a surgeon will have to deal with this."

"Nnn," Yui grunted to show she was listening.

"Ano."

Saito looked up to see a blonde girl leaning towards them.

"May I ask your name, sir?" asked Mugi.

"Kamisaka Saito," answered Saito. "I work for this company."

"Where?" asked Ritsu a little rudely.

"Ritsu!" said Mio smacking her over the head. "Don't be rude."

Mio was actually a little afraid of the man calling himself Kamisaka. He looked dangerous with his messy hair, dirty appearance, and a scar on his left check.

"Hey, you're missing a little bit of your ear. Are you related to that French painter?" asked Ritsu. There was 5 mm cut in the upper part of his left ear.

"That happened in some small place you've never heard of on the border lands of Russia. And no, I'm not related to Van Gogh. He's also Dutch by the way," said Saito not looking up from Yui's arm.

"So you work for ASI?"

"Hai."

"And you know who the owner is?"

"James Owens the founder man who runs the company and Kotobuki Kenji the CEO and owner," said Saito dryly. He paused. He'd seen several pictures of his bosses. Kotobuki was known for his distinctive eyebrows that all members of his family supposedly have. He turned and looked at Mugi.

She smiled. "I'm Kotobuki Tsumugi."

Holy shit, it's the bosses daughter, thought Saito showing surprise for the first time.

"And I'm looking for a bodyguard."

"Huh?"

He looked at Mugi with a mix of shock and horror. Protecting her? He could only imagine what this would be like. He looked back at the brunette who was in need of medical attention. Saito could tell he was be sized up by her and the others. A girl with long black hair looked horrified at the prospect and terrified of him. A girl with prominent forehead and a yellow headband was taking pictures with her cellphone. There was a third girl that seemed more concerned with the brunette he was treating. Saito figured her to be a sister, maybe even a twin since they looked so much alike.

"Are you looking for work?"

Saito hesitated. He did need to work and he couldn't pick a job that would take him back to the third-world hotspots or superpower flashpoints. But he hated protecting spoiled little rich kids, especially girls. They made him think fondly of former Soviet ultra-nationalists, the Islamic extremists, and fanatical separatists he tangled with in Chechnya… no, he didn't have fond memories of Chechnya. Well better to get a job sooner than later.

"Well I literally just got off a plane from central Asia, but I am looking for a new contract and something that won't take me out of Japan or at least not involve travel to hotspots."

"Would Finland be a hotspot?" asked Mugi.

Saito stared at her. Finland? The Scandinavian countries and Denmark were basically the European equivalent of Canada. Cold weather and peace loving people.

"So is it a deal?"

Well, what the hell.

Well this ends the first chapter. Hope y'all liked it. I figured this site could use a non-yuri K-on fic. I'm not saying they're bad, but it seems that all there are here so I figured I write this to add from verity. This chapter is set near the end of their first year. Azusa hadn't yet made her appearance yet, but probably will in the next chapter or the one after next.

Respectfully

J. H. Kamiya

Appendix

1. An auto-injector is a device used to inject the body with a medication. They are normally used by people with violent food allergies to give them a medicated douse to avoid death. The military also uses them to give pain medication without having to use syringes. The military also uses them to give people sedatives to put them to sleep.

2. I'm an American so I really don't get the metric system like most of my countrymen, but since this is set in Japan I figure I should probably use metric. 2 meters is around 6 1/2 feet.

3. Honestly, if they said what the Hirasawas do for a living I don't remember. I just made something up since they are so absent from the series.

4. This is a really formal way of introducing yourself.

5. Carbines are a class of rifle. Carbines were first really seen in Western Europe around the 16th century. Originally they were shortened rifles so a man on horseback could load and rifle it (standard musket was too long to load or efficiently handle on a horse). It became the signature weapon of dragoons (horse mounted infantry). In the US Army during World War II the carbine became a weapon for soldiers whose roles made it too hard to carry a rifle like radio-operators or officers. Post-Vietnam War carbines were reintroduced as a weapon for close to medium range combat. The CAR-15 and later the M4A1 would become the choice weapons for special forces and for soldiers fighting in close combat (like our soldiers in Iraq).

6. The assault rifle was introduced by the Germans in mid-1944, but saw limited usage until later that year. The idea the Germans had was a gun that was compact, easy to handle, maneuverable, and fully automatic (all the attributes of a sub-machine gun), but also to be powerful, accurate, and the long reach of a rifle. This is how the assault rifle is defined and what distinguishes it from an automatic rifle.

7. Tango stands for the letter T in modern phonetic alphabet by NATO. The US Armed Forces and our allies use it as a general term for the enemy.

8. Asahi Shimbun is Japan's second largest newspaper. It is read nationwide much like the New York Times in the United States.

9. Limey is an American nickname for the British. Frenchie… if you can't figure that out then please get help. Jerry is a nickname for the Germans used more commonly by the British, but used by Americans too. The more common nickname Americans used was Krauts, but it's considered more tasteless to use Kraut instead of Jerry.

10 Die Zeit (The Times) is one of Germany's top and most respected newspapers.

11. The MP-5 is one of Heckler & Koch's top selling guns. It's a 9 mm sub-machine gun. The MP-5A3 has a telescoping stock. SD means it's sound suppressed. The MP-5 comes in many models and is a very popular gun amongst law enforcement and military.

12. I don't think they actually say where in Japan K-on takes place. It seems to be moderately warm most of the year so I figured it wouldn't be Tokyo (definitely not Sapporo). The climate seemed warm judging by lack of snow and the palm trees at their school so I picked a city in Kyushu.

13. Sasebo is a city in Kyushu west of Fukuoka. It is home to a base belonging to the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Forces and also used by the United States Navy.

14. The Japanese sometimes refer to Asia as the Continent since Japan is an island nation off the Asian mainland.

15. In many Eastern European countries they used steel instead of gold for capping teeth.

16. Like I said at the top this story starts in late March 2010 before Osama Bin Laden was killed by US Special Forces.