Chapter I

Dirty Deeds

Across the room the low croon of a swing band spilled warm mystery from the depths of trumpet bells, wrapping it tight around the patrons assembled around worn oak tables and fine alcohol. Clinks of glasses and murmurs of conversation disguised deals as casual talk, money slipping from hand to hand and disappearing inside a pocket or briefcase. No one so much as glanced as a tall, petitte man came in off the street, shaking out his waves of dark black hair. He strolled slowly across the bar, pausing to say greetings to those he recognized amongst the mass of faces before easing his slender body into a plush booth, a long cigarette clasped in pale lips. Mist drifted up from under the brim of a concealing hat though his eyes never left the face of the prim Vice President across from him. He tapped the light against his long fingers dripping ashes into a tray offered to him. It wasn't unusual to see Valentine's face here. He was quite infamous amongst the local crime circles and it was his ingenuity and careful planning that ensured he stayed alive and was highly desired to settle the particularly dangerous jobs.

What was the miracle this evening was to see Vice President Rufus Shinra waiting for Valentine and this in turn triggered hushed whispers and gawking from the assembled crowds. Ignoring the clamor his presence wrought, Rufus scrutinized his client carefully in all his red pinstripe glory. He had hardly expected the infamous Valentine to be so.. feminine. Yet he was hardly one to critisize. As long as the job was taken care of and out of his hands he couldn't care less what his minions looked like. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette of his own, pulling the ashtray closer to him and trying to sneak a peek beneath the deep brimmed hat.

"So, you're Valentine?" Rufus took another long drag on his cigarette.

"I am." The one known as Valentine flicked his hat back, a twinge of excitement in the bloody crimson depths of his eyes. "What do you have for me?"

Shinra chuckled. "Well, well. Get right down to business type?"

Valentine nodded. "I am. Now what do you have for me?" he put out the cigarette and leaned against the soft felt regarding the other intently.

"I have a rather..." he was careful choosing his words, "..delicate job."

"Delicate?" Vincent waved over a waitress and ordered himself a shot of brandy before continuing the briefing.

"Yes. But I'm afraid I cannot tell you much more until you officially sign onto the deal." It was a common tactic used by those hiring services to conceal the details and it normally scared away those that valued their lives or were simply too cowardly to accept a blind deal. Vincent himself had many close calls in his time but it was the element of treachery that kept his life interesting. Though it was considered absolutely foolish to accept any job from Shinra. Too many lives had been lost, too many jobs botched, too much hassle. The majority of gangsters gave Shinra a wide berth but Vincent wasn't the majority of gangsters.

"How do I know I'm not being played?" Valentine slid his fingers slowly over his hip where the cold metal of his beloved pistol lay concealed in it's holster beneath the jacket. Rufus chuckled softly, jerking his head towards where four dark suited figures were bent over a table, one of them occasionally glancing over at the pair.

"I don't suggest doing anything stupid, Valentine." the young man smirked, "it could prove hazardous to your wellbeing. Now." he leaned forward, "Are you going to accept my deal or not? I don't have time to play with you mobsters all night."

"What do you want?" Vincent grabbed the brandy shot and downed it in one, shivering at the warmth liquid bubbling down his throat.

"Is this to mean you're signing on?"

"Yes. Now say it." Rufus fished a folded paper out from the depths of his suit, tossing it over to Vincent. He leaned back in his chair, watching confusion form on the other's face.

"What is this?" Vincent folded the paper up and stuffed it in his own pocket.

"A rendezvous point. The President is going to be giving a live speech tomorrow and you are going to be the lucky man to get that worthless excuse of a greedmonger out of our lives forever." Here Rufus smirked, reaching over to grasp Vincent's chin tight, "I know you'll take good care of him, Valentine."

Vincent shoved his hand away. "How much?"

"500,000 fair?"

"Hell no. I don't come cheap, especially with high profile dealings." Vincent stared Rufus dead on. Assassinating the President was going to be a pricey job. "Fifty million."

"Fine." Rufus said almost too eagerly, "Money is no object I just want him out of my way."

"That I can guarentee. Where will I recieve my payment?" Rufus took a minute to think.

"After the job meet me in the 70th floor executive office. Here's a key." He tossed it to Vincent and whistled, the Turks at the other table rising and tailing their boss away like puppies. Dangerous, blood-thirsty puppies. Vincent strolled out into the streets and stared at the key card bearing the Shinra insignia. Quietly he wondered if he had done the right thing, accepting a job from Shinra was signing one's final will and testament. So many wrongdoings done back to the mobsters that served them but a skyrocketing reputation and hefty pay if they succeeded made the danger child's play.

Pocketing the card Vincent ducked back through the alleys towards the safety of his little hideout deep within the bowels of the city, casting his eyes up into the smoggy sky at the silhouette of the Shinra building towering above everything. Deep in his gut something twinged but he ignored it. He had plenty of instinct, he could do this. Besides, what's life without a little risk to keep it spicy?

Against better judgement he cast the nagging intuition aside.