Yes, we're still alive ^^ Another RP with calvi_sama, but it's not Perfection this time.
It's a little darker than most of our stuff, and all the tension is drawn out for quite some time, so...bear with us. Inspired by a pic of ani_mama's; link is on my profile.
Also, Cal and I have created an open LJ community that is an archive of our writing and assorted other valenwind-y things. Link to that is also on my profile.
Without further ado, Midgar Burning: *bows off stage*
"…and do it right this time, Highwind, or you're history!" Palmer finished, pounding a meaty fist on the table.
Cid Highwind was not a happy man. At present, his fists were clenched behind the desk, out of his superior's view.
"Yes, sir."
"Lockheart and Fair will also be in the area, but you are to focus only on Valentine. He is somehow the key in all this…"
Cid tuned out the rest of the speech; he'd heard it several times already. Valentine was a threat, he had the potential to take over Rufus' position and would be infinitely more dangerous when he did, he's capable of anything, blah blah blah.
He had heard it, in fact, twice already today. Only the addition to the lecture made its way to his ears:
"Oh, and Highwind? Should you fail again, Mr. Wallace will gladly see you before you leave."
Cid winced. Barret Wallace was, among other things, huge. "Yes, sir. I won't be needing to see him."
"I should hope not." Leaning back in his chair, Palmer folded his hands into his lap, smiled lecherously, and said, "Now, off you go. I've got an appointment with a friend of mine."
Cid walked away, grumbling about how Palmer could simultaneously be working for the eradication of crime and Sephiroth's hold on the underside of Midgar –the figurative underside, that is, and not just the part under the plates- while simultaneously using Sephiroth's…facilities…for his own pleasure. The girl he passed in the hallway was undoubtedly a Honeybee girl, and clearly was under the impression that she was visiting a young, handsome, rich man.
Cid Highwind, in the midst of pitying himself, laughed.
A dark sedan pulled up in front of the restaurant and eased to a stop. The dark-skinned man behind the wheel put it into park and glanced into the rearview mirror, "We're here, sir."
"I can see that, thank you, Rude." A pale-skinned man said, reaching into his burgundy pinstriped jacket and removing a pair of expensive, dark sunglasses. After first inspecting them for unwanted dirt and fingerprints, he slipped them on, then tilted his head toward the man sitting beside him, "Do you have the documents?"
"Yes, sir." The nearly identically colored man sitting next to him lifted one flap of his suit coat just far enough to extract an envelope to view, before sliding it back into the pocket of his black jacket.
"Good," the man in the shades said approvingly, his voice deep and rough, "then there is no reason that this should not go smoothly. Reno, Rude, you two are to stay with the car. Keep armed and your radios on. I do not expect the need for back up, but I want you two ready to move if I summon you."
"Yes, sir."
"Yeah, boss." The fourth man, a redhead with wild hair pulled back into a tail, sitting in the front passenger seat said. His fox-like face spread into a cocky grin as he pulled out his sidearm, checked its status then slipped it back into its shoulder holster.
The man in red grunted and popped the car door open, the man beside him doing the same, and stepped out. Taking a moment to look up and down the street warily, he buttoned his jacket then placed a matching fedora on his head, cocking the angle just slightly. He walked around the sedan until he was standing close to his associate and he murmured, "I need you alert on this one, Tseng. This "doctor" fellow is soft enough, but he surrounds himself with some pretty heavy hitters."
"Aren't I always, sir?" Tseng replied, his face serious and emotionless, and locked his black eyes with those behind the shades.
The man in red chuckled and patted Tseng's back twice, "That you are, my friend, and I'm glad for it." Then he leaned down to speak to the two men still in the car. "Keep it running," He said in a growl, "We won't be long."
At a table near the back of the restaurant, Zack Fair (today Steven White) sat with his partner, Tifa Lockheart (today his wife, Melinda). As they pretended to be engaged in lighthearted, loving conversation, Tifa signaled to Cid that their targets had arrived.
Cid rolled his eyes. He knew who Valentine was, yes, could see that he had just walked in –quite boldly, Cid observed- with his second-in-command.
Cid was not exceptionally good at his job. Why? He was simply a little too memorable for his own good once he had opened his mouth. Unfortunately, his mouth had a nasty habit of refusing to stay closed when he told it to.
He was also a bit sickened by how well Zack and Tifa played their current roles, exchanging kisses over their wine glasses, Tifa blushing and giggling at every little thing Zack said. They made perfect newlyweds, really.
It disgusted Cid.
He was just becoming aware of his unconscious grumbling about "sappy-ass dumbasses" when the waitress, looking concerned and a bit affronted, approached him and asked what she could get for him.
In what might have been a pathetic attempt at revenge, Cid ordered the most expensive item on the menu.
As soon as he walked through the door he knew something was "off" and he hesitated, placing his hand on Tseng's broad shoulder. His second stopped and turned to him, instinctively placing his back broadside to the occupants in the restaurant in order to protect his "boss". "We're not alone," he murmured.
Tseng nodded but didn't turn around. He didn't know how his boss knew, but the man always had a sixth sense that rarely proved wrong. "Where?" was all he said.
The man in red snorted and murmured, jerking his head to the back of the restaurant, "One of those couples, though I'm not sure which, and that wino at the bar. This place may not be four-star but it's certainly better than that. Nothing changes though. It just sets us back a bit." He patted Tseng's chest. "Just be careful." As Tseng nodded, turned back around and straightened his tie, the man in red said disgustedly and so only Tseng could hear, "Cops. And Hollander's oblivious, of course."
As if to prove him right the portly, bearded man threw back his head and let loose a raucous laugh.
The man in red barely contained a sneer. "Let's go."
Tseng nodded again and the two men threaded their way through the tables to the largest table in the back where "Doctor Hollander" sat with two women – obviously of the escort variety – three men who clearly worked for him, and three more dressed in plain suits who looked dazed. The man in red sized them up quickly and dismissed the smaller two thugs, leaving them for Tseng. Instead he focused upon the black-haired man wearing a sword – of all things – strapped to his back, who watched him stern-faced and unblinking the whole time. Hollander always did have an odd flair for the dramatic. But then again, so did he. "Are we interrupting?" He rumbled, smiling pleasantly and cocking his head.
The man called "Hollander" stopped laughing and looked up at him, his smile instantly fading away. "V-Valentine! What an unexpected surprise," the man said, shifting in his seat and looking around nervously. "What brings you here?"
"Oh, just a little bit of unfinished business, doctor," Vincent said, placing his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, grin still in place.
"I don't recall doing any business with you, Valentine." Hollander said frowning, his pig-like eyes behind his glasses squinting in confusion.
Vincent sighed. "Oh, it wasn't me personally, Hollander, it was my boss. Rufus Shinra? Perhaps that name might ring a few bells?" He knew that it did by the convulsive swallow he saw slide down the man's throat. "Ah, I see that it does." His grin widened, and without looking away from Hollander's panicked face, he nodded, and Tseng reached for his inside breast pocket.
That caused a flash of movement as the two smaller thugs drew weapons, and had them leveled at Tseng while the man still had his hand in his pocket, and the big ape with the sword had drawn it and had it leveled now at Vincent's throat. With a bored sigh, Vincent cocked an eyebrow at Hollander. "Really?" He raised a gloved hand and flicked the tip of the sword away from his throat with a tiny metallic 'ting', causing its wielder to frown darkly. "Your boys are kind of jumpy there doctor. Small wonder you're nervous." He continued to ignore the swordsman and looked at the three suits at the table who were displaying various levels of fear. "Come, come now doctor, you're scaring your associates. That's not very professional. We all just friends here." He looked back at Hollander and waited patiently.
Finally, Hollander swallowed again and said, "That's enough. Kunsel, Luxiere, put the guns away, Hewley…" and with a tick in his jaw, the ape with the sword put it away.
"That's better," Vincent said and held out his hand. Tseng finished pulling out the envelope and placed the paper sheathed in his palm, then returned to standing with his hands crossed in front of him. With his other hand, Vincent reached up and removed his dark glasses. Leaning forward across the table, he leveled very intense, very red eyes on Hollander who sat back and blinked rapidly, breathing coming in short, frightened pants as the man began to sweat. "We're onto you. And the proof you need of that is in that envelope. Mr. Shinra has the originals. You have until noon tomorrow to produce the cash you stole, Hollander, or we'll be back. We'll collect what you owe, and the interest will be in body parts. Do you understand?"
When Hollander nodded shakily, Vincent's grin returned and he replaced his glasses. Walking around to stand behind Hollander he put his hands on the "doctor's" shoulders and squeezed once, making the man jump. Leaning down, he murmured into Hollander's ear, "Pleasure doing business. Oh, and Hollander?" He took a couple of quick sniffs at the man's neck. "You stink." Straightening back up, he nodded to the suits. "Gentlemen, thank you for your patience, I'll let you return to your business." And with a nod to Tseng the two of them left the restaurant.
Cid had been unable to see much. There were people and walls between his seat and Hollander's. Valentine and his friend, however, had undoubtedly approached him. In what he felt was the least remarkable move he could have made, Cid headed to the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant, placed conveniently two tables away from where Hollander was currently entertaining his guests. He wondered if anyone would notice that he never left them or if they would simply assume he was being sick.
From where he stood now, he could hear the entire conversation. He had come in just as Shinra's name had been mentioned, so he didn't think he had really missed much…and with any luck, Palmer wouldn't question what came before that.
Hollander owed Shinra; no surprise. They had already known that.
This night had revealed no new results, Cid realized as Zack stepped into the bathroom and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
"You're screwed, you know that?"
"Yeah," Cid answered quietly. "I know."
"I feel for ya, buddy. You go ahead and leave; we're gonna have dessert."
Cid nodded, pulled on a face that told everyone who looked at him that he had definitely been sick, and paid his bill before leaving without the change. Not like it was his money.
The black sedan that had just pulled away –presumably with Valentine and his crew in it- was unmarked, unsurprisingly, but Cid smiled. Zack didn't know it, but he had managed to save his own ass this time. Smiling fondly at the sound recording device in his hand, he headed back to the office to wait on Palmer to call him.
He was surprised, honestly, that it even worked. And he had tested it; there was background noise as well as the conversation, but he wasn't the tech guy. They had people to fix that.
And so Cid secured his right to live another day.
As they drove back to the ShinRa tower, Vincent stared out the window, lost in thought. It was Tseng's sober voice that broke through his whirling thoughts. "He won't be happy about this."
"You let me handle Rufus," Vincent sighed. "You three just stay out of the way. Especially you." And he whacked Reno on the back of the head.
"Ow!" Reno squawked and turned around to glare at Vincent, "That hurt man!"
"It needs to hurt to get through that head." Vincent said, grinning. "You have the unique talent of opening your mouth in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I wouldn't call that a talent, sir." Rude muttered from his place behind the wheel.
"It is if we're talking about Reno, Rude." Vincent replied and looked at Tseng. If Vincent had any family, these three would be the closest thing. He was responsible for them and their loyalty to him went far beyond their loyalty to Rufus. If he left, they would follow him, and Rufus knew that. That was part of what protected them from Rufus' wrath, that and they were damned good at what they did.
When they pulled up to the Tower, Vincent had Rude drop him off at the front lobby entrance. "Let me talk to him first then you three come up." Rude nodded and drove into the parking garage under the structure. Straightening his tie and jacket, Vincent headed into the steel and concrete behemoth, and to monster that lived within.
Upon exiting Palmer's office, Cid heaved a sigh of relief. He had presented the audio clip with little anxiety; Palmer really was not very difficult to please.
Best of all, he would get to go home tonight and rest. It had been a while, since he had been more or less on probation after the Corneo incident. This assignment had been the first in a month; until now, he had been too busy waiting on the edge of his seat for some assurance that he was still needed to get any real sleep.
Sleep he did, aided by a glass of the wine he usually reserved for serving guests, and when he woke in the morning, he found that he did indeed have a guest.
"Good, you're awake. Look, I have to make this quick. I-"
"Wha?"
The woman, already in her lab gear, shook her head, and slid Cid's glasses onto his face.
"Shera?"
"How many women have keys to your apartment, Cid?" she asked teasingly, hand on her hip.
"Aw, baby, y'know you're the only one for me," he teased back, feeling a familiar pang of guilt for not being able to say that truthfully.
Shera smiled at the old joke and sat at the edge of the bed. "Seriously, though, I do have something important for you."
"Oh?" Suddenly much more alert as Shera leaned down to whisper to him, Cid listened carefully to the information she gave him.
"You what?" The blond man standing at the floor to ceiling windows asked, his voice deadly calm.
"I gave him until noon tomorrow. You'll get your money, one way or another." Vincent replied wearily.
"I told you to get my money today." Rufus turned and stalked over to stand in front of Vincent, his hands on his hips. "I need that money today."
"It can wait one more day, and I told you that I gave him until noon tomo- " A fist to his jaw silenced him. He had absorbed most of the blow, but he still tasted blood, as Rufus' knuckles impacting his teeth had split his lip. Wiping his mouth he straightened back up and scowled darkly. "Dammit, Rufus, there were cops there! I couldn't very well start hacking pieces off of Hollander right then!"
"When I give you an order, I expect you to carry it out. Must I punish you to make my point?" Rufus hissed leaning in close to Vincent's face, and it took all of his will to keep from leaning back and away.
"No," Vincent said softly, averting his eyes submissively in an attempt to placate Rufus. "That will not be necessary, sir." The blond's love of pain was nearly horrifying. Not for himself, oh no, but for others. The man positively got off on torturing others. Vincent had been on the receiving end one time too many and he had learned, and learned well.
"Get out of my sight," Rufus sneered, "you disgust me you incompetent fool!"
Vincent turned to leave, but stopped when he heard Rufus ShinRa growl, "I don't know why I put up with you." That made him pause and turn to level a look at Rufus that very plainly said, 'Do you really want to go there?' And that only made Rufus madder. "Out!" He screamed, and Vincent was very careful not to slam the door on his way out.
Who would have figured Valentine could be the weak link? Cid had always imagined getting to him through one of his flunkies… but apparently he had a life, too. No one could have known that, Cid thought, except a woman.
And Shera was more than a woman. She was a woman who worked alongside the infamous Dr. Hojo in the mako labs. Cid had been outraged when he'd first heard, because Shera could have done something much more respectable.
But Shera, like everyone else, had her debts.
Cid lit a cigarette and leaned conspicuously against the brick wall behind him. Valentine, he mused again. How th'hell do I get t'you?
Naturally, that had been Palmer's order as soon as Cid had relayed the new information. Cid figured the park was as good a place as any to start, so he headed there. If nothing else, he could refine his people-watching skills while simultaneously offending the old woman who fed the birds. His mere presence seemed to be enough to make her draw her skirts away from him and make a face.
He loved making her do that. It was the highlight of a sadly large amount of his days. Today, cigarette still lit, he sat down on the bench next to her.
"Ooh!" was the only thing she said as she scooted to the other end of the bench.
Cid laughed until he thought his lungs would burst, then left her alone, patting her shoulder as he walked away.
What would Valentine want with mako…?
*****************
"Why do you insist on pushing him, sir?" Tseng said, dipping the washcloth he was using to clean Vincent's lip, back into the bowl warm water.
"Because Rufus needs to be reminded, quite frequently, that I'm not some mindless automaton that he can order around…ow!" Vincent grabbed Tseng's wrist and held it back as he glared at his second. "That hurt."
Tseng smirked at him, "It's supposed to; your lip is split. Now hold still." And the Wutian grasped Vincent's chin and went back to dabbing. After a few more moments of Vincent's squirming and flinching, Tseng sighed in resignation and placed the cloth in the bowl and set them both aside. "That's what I don't understand, sir."
"Whas's zat?" Vincent asked as he stuck his tongue in between his lip and his gum, and then made a face to make sure his lip was in fact done bleeding.
Tseng blinked a couple of times before he sighed and crossed his legs primly, "Why do you let him 'order you around'?"
Vincent leaned back in his chair and mirrored Tseng's posture. "Because he has something I need. We've had this discussion before."
Tseng nodded, "Yes, but if you left then you would be in a position of leverage."
Vincent shut his eyes, "I know this, Tseng. Unfortunately what I need is only produced by Hojo, and I cannot get to Hojo without Rufus."
"You still need out," Tseng said belligerently, "Has he asked you to his rooms?"
"No," Vincent said softly, resting his face in his palm, "but I imagine it's only a matter of time. At least until Reno slips up again."
"You should let Mr. ShinRa have him, sir. Reno needs to learn."
"He does, but Reno would never survive and you know it. He'd never be useful to me again." Vincent's eyes unfocused briefly as he gazed across his office thoughtfully, before turning back to look at Tseng. "We're finished discussing this Tseng. What you've said already is too much."
Tseng nodded, the murmured, "We'd go with you, sir."
"I know you would," Vincent said, sparing his second a small smile, "I know you would."
**********
Cid checked his watch. Almost noon. Aerith Gainsborough, their best undercover girl, was watching the restaurant in case they went back there. Zack was stationed near what was believed to be Shinra's headquarters.
Cid was off. Relatively off, anyway. He was supposed to be finding information, but information is very hard to find when it doesn't want to be found.
Asking Shera to get him into Hojo's labs would jeopardize her job and everything she had worked for; he would not do that to her. Sneaking in himself would be a direct violation of their ethics; Hojo, too, had a number of 'their guys' following him. They knew he suspected, but Cid breaking and entering –he was bound to do it clumsily if he tried- would cause him to move his…practices…to another, more heavily protected, place.
They couldn't afford that.
So he was back to waiting and being all jittery, and the tea wasn't helping with that. The place in the park knew just how he liked it –loaded with sugar.
He decided he needed another cup.
After repeating the process several times over, Cid sat on a park bench –unoccupied this time- and placed his head in his hands. Anyone else would have been able to find a use for a day like this, he thought, and realized quite suddenly that he wanted company.
It had been so long that he had become accustomed to being lonely. He hardly noticed it anymore, until days like this, when he sat and watched everyone else enjoying life.
When had he last laughed like that? These days he only laughed in cynicism. And at Shera, but she didn't count, because she knew him too well.
No one depended on him. He was expendable to the higher-ups, and he had no friends to speak of, save Shera, but…
But she didn't need him.
And he was quickly growing too melancholy for his liking, so he went for another cup of tea.
****************
At two minutes to twelve, the same familiar sedan was parked out front of Hollander's Restaurant, idling quietly, like a giant predator. 'Doctor' Hollander swallowed and tugged at the collar of his shirt and fiddled with his tie. All the windows were tinted, and he couldn't see in, but he knew who was in there. Valentine. As promised, the thug had shown up to collect, but Hollander would be damned if he would just hand over the money. He knew that if he took out Valentine, he'd be taking out one of the most powerful men in the Midgar underbelly and all that reputation would be his…not to mention all the spoils. He turned to the massive swordsman on his right. "Wait until he comes in, frisk him then send him back to my office alone. Do whatever you want with that stooge that follows him around, but leave Valentine to me."
The swordsman grinned evilly and nodded. With a jerk of his head, Hollander headed to his "back office" flanked by Kunsel and Luxiere, both armed to the teeth. "You two wait here," he said gruffly, and as the two bodyguards took of positions on either side of the door, the 'doctor' entered his dark office. After first shutting the door he reached for the light switch, but froze in panic when he felt two arms wrap around him, one hand clamping down like a vice over his mouth and the other holding a knife to his throat. A very sharp knife. He hissed in a breath as he felt the blade nick his skin.
"You know," rumbled a rough voice from the vicinity of his desk, "Your security is very lax, doctor." And with a 'click' Hollander's desk lamp came on to reveal Valentine, sitting quite comfortably behind his desk. Wearing the trademark suit and black fedora, Valentine had his gloved hands steepled in front of a face that was both beautiful and terrible. The man smiled serenely. "I'm disappointed, but not altogether surprised." Then the monster leaned forward, and Hollander found himself trapped by those spooky, red eyes. "Now, I believe you owe Mr. ShinRa some money," Valentine said smoothly and jerked his head. Abruptly Hollander was released.
Quickly he moved away and spun to face the black-eyed stooge that never showed emotion and followed Valentine around like fucking lap dog. Mind whirling, it didn't take Hollander long to realize that any upper hand he had had abruptly disappeared, and that it would be in his best interest to cooperate…for now. Swallowing convulsively, he made his way to a framed print on his wall. Swinging the picture frame back, he gritted his teeth at Valentine's derisive snort and began working the lock until the heavy door swung open. Removing an envelope, he then shut the safe, turned and tossed the thick envelope onto the desk in front of the man. Valentine made no move to open it. "Now get out," Hollander sneered.
But the two men made no move to leave. Instead, Valentine's smile grew unbelievably cruel. "Oh, but we're not done, doctor," he purred.
"Wha-what'd'you mean?" Hollander said in a shaky rush.
At that Valentine took his time picking up the envelope, casually opening it and only making a cursory perusal of its contents before slipping it into the breast pocket of his cursed suit. He then leaned down and lifted a bulky briefcase to lay it down on his desk. "As with any loan, there is always interest," Valentine said with deceptive gentleness, popping the lid of the case.
Hollander backed against the wall and was about to call out to his guards, when the stooge moved faster than a snake to stand practically on top of him. The man growled, "They cannot help you." Without breaking contact with those cold black eyes, Hollander only just caught the moment of a gag being removed from the stooge's pocket. "No one can help you."
Hollander, his breathing panicked now, whipped back around to see Valentine putting a golden gauntlet of some kind onto his left arm and hand. The light from his desk glinted wickedly off of the blades that adorned the fingers of the glove as Valentine said distantly, "And I always collect."