AN: Hi, it's me again. Sorry for the long wait, but I had a few things coming up,so…. yeah, who cares. Here is chapter 4. Enjoy.
As soon as he got up this morning, Gerard knew that today was going to be horrible.
He had been awoken by two charwomen, idly chattering in front of his room. Grumbling, he had left his bed to fling open his room's door to snap angrily at them that he was planning a goddamn crime and needed his rest, so could they be so kind as to shut the hell up and… At which point the two charwomen had already been running down the corridor, screeching for help.
Although Gerard felt slightly elevated after this small achievement, he couldn't shake off the bitter knowledge that this day was already beyond every help.
"You look like chewed up and spit out." he was greeted by Sho, who was smiling almost spitefully, when he, much later, came down to join his friend in the hotel's lobby. Gerard just gave him a sarcastic grin. "Natsu was right, you are quite the funny guy, aren't you?" And although some part of him felt a forbidden satisfaction at seeing how Sho's grin fell, it was outweighed by guilt. "Sorry." he apologized quietly, rubbing his temples. He had awoken with an excruciating headache, and now his head was feeling like a bronze bell.
Sho waved it off. "We all have these days… not just the girls." He laughed, but stopped quickly when Gerard threw him a look filled with disgust. "Anyway, which name has your speed-demon of an Info-broker spit out for us today?" The joke was meant to make him laugh, but Gerard only managed a half-hearted, very forced grin. "Wait a minute…" he mumbled as he began to rummage around in the seemingly endless recesses of his coat. "Ah… There we go." He pulled forth a slightly crinkled stack of papers. "Okay. I thought we should be going for an Ironman by now, so I asked Network for some suggestions concerning the matter. I must admit that I don't know very many of them personally, but I had a good look at the info I have here, and I think we could work best with…-" he searched through the stack and pulled from it a computer-written text with a photo pinned to it, "-that one."
Sho carefully observed the small image. The man pictured there had long, black hair, a ridiculous mass of piercings, and glared at him with an expression of complete and utter hate. Sho threw his friend a look, one eyebrow lifted as if to say 'Seriously?'.
"What? This guy has everything we're looking for, experience, connections and whatnot." Gerard replied, irritated by his friend's disbelieving look. Sho gave him a weak grin. "Sorry to break it to you, pal, but the stuff you have here ain't worth shit." Gerard frowned and looked at the paper he was holding. "What do you mean? Everything's there: 'List of Accomplishments', technical skills, recommendations and whatnot. I'm surprised that I never heard of this guy." He looked closer. "Though, now on second look… Oddly few recommendations. But this guy comes over as quite competent to me…" Sho let out a laugh. "Now guess why. Or wait, I'll just tell you." He took the paper from Gerard and tore it through, despite his friend's sounds of protest. "Oh, shut up. I know that you and this Network-guy are, like, engaged or something, but here, in this case, the usual kind of info won't do." Sho studiously tore the paper into little pieces, which he let fall on the lobby's cheap floor carpets. He ignored the angry glare of the receptionist with studied ease.
"Alright, then," he began "the man you're looking for is a former mercenary. He has served in about half a dozen different private armies and, during the last decade, has been involved in most conflicts involving the deployment of larger quantities of military personnel until a couple of years ago, regardless of whether they were mercs or government-dogs. This guy has seen his share of humanity, and did not like the sight of it. He got into the business a couple of years ago. That's probably why you never heard of him, since you were already enjoying the council's hospitality at that time. Anyway, he might actually work with us, since we're offering a good deal… Although…" Sho's voice trailed off. "What?" Gerard urged him on. Sho pulled a grimace. "Well, he's got a strange approach to the rules in our line of business. Bad manners with clients, if you catch my drift…" Gerard's face contorted into a mask of distaste. He understood all too well. 'Having bad manners' was a figure of speech in 'The Business' and described the infliction of unnecessary violence on people, normally security personnel or bank employees, depending on the area of activity. Gerard himself had hurt people himself , but that was an inevitability in his line of work, and he usually tried to avoid the path of violence. Not so much out of pity, no. He wasn't exactly proud of it, but he had never had himself any illusions: there was no room for pity when you were in 'The Business'.
But still… Unnecessary violence was just Bad Style, if not worse. "Ugh, that's just…-" - "I know. But I heard he's got it sorted now. Don't know if it's true, though. Last time I met him, he was just another mean son of a bitch."
There was a short pause before Sho continued to speak. "But I understand why your broker recommended him. He might be crazy, but he knows the stuff. And he can act professional, as long as you keep him away from little orphans and kitties and stuff." Gerard gave his friend a questioning look. "What 'stuff'?" His friend made a vague hand movement. "You know, innocent stuff." Gerard nodded slowly. "So what'd you say? Shop 'im or drop 'im?" he asked. Sho looked at him, surprised. Though he was glad that his friend valued his opinion concerning the matter, he was taken aback by the fact that Gerard was asking him now. Until this moment, Gerard had been organizing the whole operation without giving heed to any inputs from Sho's side. That he was not doing so any longer came as an astonishment, to say the least.
"I'd definitely say we should get him. Mad or not, this guy can work like a fiend. He'll be a good asset to the group, too."
Gerard nodded again slowly. "Seems like an interesting person, this…-" he took a look at the photo again, scrutinizing the dark-faced man who glared angrily back at him. "- Gazille Reitfox."
"Sure it's here?"
Six hours later, the duo found themselves walking down a narrow alleyway, lined with white cheap apartment dwellings that loomed high over the asphalt, shadowing the whole street. "Sure I'm sure." Sho grinned, but Gerard remained completely oblivious of his little joke.
The narrow, dark street had widened into an allée, outlined by gigantic oak trees, and the duo had arrived in front of a plain, white bungalow, which was nearly obscured by the rather big and seemingly bedraggled garden surrounding it, which seemed to consist solely of a few bigger trees and lots and lots of ample undergrowth. There was a wide drive-way, paved with thick white slabs of stone with grass and weeds growing between them, like a scar in the thick vegetation surrounding it.
Gerard regarded the scenery with a slight air of displeasure. "This place looks about as alive as an elephant's crap hole. Meaning not at all, but still crawling with shit. Well, let's not make this a waste of time. Sho, you go for the door. He knows you. I don't want to have a cap popped in my ass, just because some psyched-out war-mummy can't control it's itchy, paranoid trigger-finger that kicks in reflexively every time this guy sees a face he hasn't already blown over yet."
They followed the drive-way to the bungalow's door, where Sho, not finding a doorbell, lifted his hand and rapped at the door once.
The door was opened by a huge man, who even loomed far above the two. He was very muscular and had dark skin, with an angry scar close to his left eye. His face and frame were very intimidating, and Sho was thoroughly impressed. Gerard on the other hand was too irritated and broody to react to the man's) menacing appearance. He gave Sho a slight shove to remind him why they were here. Startled, Sho collected himself "Hello. We're looking for one Gazille Reitfox." The brute of a man turned his head to the inside of the house and called in an incredibly deep bass over the faint voices that could be heard from behind him: "Hey guys, shut up a moment, will ya? Is Gazille in?" He listened for a moment to someone replying, but it was too faint for Gerard or Sho to catch it.
The big guy turned back to them again. "Seems you're lucky. Come in, I'll get him."
Once inside, Gerard and Sho instinctively checked the room's layout: there was no entrance hall of any sort, the front door opened directly to a spacious living room, walls lined with tall book-shelves, crammed with books of any size and form. At the far side of the room, a french window revealed a backyard, similarly big and unkemptas the plant live at the front. To their right was an opening in the wall, through which a big kitchenette was visible.
First after they had made themselves a pictureof their surroundings, Gerard and Sho paid any attention to the other occupants of the room: except the brutish-looking man standing behind them, there was a very small, almost frail young woman sitting on a couch, holding huge book in her lap. She had shoulder long, blue hair, tamed by a white bandana, was wearing a pair of small reading glasses, and seemed completely engrossed in the book she was holding, and had taken no notice of the strange duo entering the room. Across her stood another man, who had just exited the kitchenette, and was now scrutinizing the two suspiciously. He was of average height, not especially well-built, but athletic, with an attractive, though not overly interesting, face. His hair was black, and held in the most bizarre style Gerard and Sho had ever seen. (I'm not going to describe it now, but I think everyone who reads this will know that I'm talking about Droy.)
"Who're these two?" he asked the huge man behind them. Gerard and Sho could almost feel the big guy's shrug behind them. "They say they want to speak with Gazille. Where is he, anyway?"
The man with the weird hairstyle frowned, slightly irritated. "I don't know, I was busy in the kitchen… Hey, Levy. Levy! Levy!" he tried to gain the blue-heads attention. The startled young woman called Levy winced and blinked, having obvious trouble to find her way back into reality. "Wha-what's up? Who're those two?" The black haired man waved her off. "Not important right now. Where's Gazille?" The bluenette collected herself before answering. "I think he said he would be in the forge together with Jet…" - "Perfect. Lily, you know the way." The big man called Lily just simply nodded and lead Gerard and Sho through a door down a long staircase of concrete. He was silent while he did so.
After some time, the three arrived in a huge underground hall, full of long tables overladen with all kinds of metallic glinting pieces, odds and ends, illuminated brightly by the cold light of several ceiling lights. The air was filled with a high, screeching noise, caused by a tall man standing with their back to them, operating what seemed to be a huge automatic metal saw. He was not wearing any protective clothing, but instead a wide, baggy pair of trousers and a jeans jacket with torn-off sleeves. There were letters drawn at it's back in a dark color. Dragons Eat Metal.
The man in the jeans jacket seemed to take no notice of the newcomers, but among the rows of tables a head, framed by messy, flaming red hair, appeared. The belonging body showed itself soon after as its owner stood up from behind the table. He shouted something to the tall man at the metal saw, but his voice was drowned in the noise it created. Seeing this, the redhead picked up a screwdriver from the table in front of him, and without further ado, threw it at the man operating the saw. It hit him in the shoulder.
The noise stopped almost immediately. "What?" he snapped as turned around, the irritation in his voice evident , and presented himself for Sho and Gerard for the first time.
Gazille Reitfox was, that they saw at first glance, someone who preferred to be taken seriously . With a piercing-graveyard of a face, strangely angular and wiry muscles, and a clothing-choice that oozed street, his whole person looked like a statement of 'Not To Be Fucked With'. "And who're these two office-clowns?"
Gerard frowned with annoyance, but before he could snap back an insult at the tall man, Sho jumped in, in a desperate attempt to stop the mood from tipping. "Hey, Gazille. Remember me? Sho? Last year in Sarnath?" he added when Gazille's frown did not change. Finally a spark of recollection flashed in his eyes. "Oh, right. The diamond job. What was your whole part in that thing again? Because people wondered what you were actually doing all this time." Sho, struggling to keep his eyebrow from twitching, pressed forth something that looked like a smile someone had found under a stone. "I- It was my… I mean, I organized it…-" - "Yeah, okay. Whatever. Jet, let's start cleaning up here."
The redhead, Jet, as Gazille had called him, opened his mouth to protest, but Gazille cut him off. "Please." His voice had gained a more-than-subtle tint of menace.
But instead of leading the others upstairs, he just went back to the working table he had just been standing at and began to collect little scraps and bits of of metal that had scattered around his working his workspace. Without turning around to them, he said: "I can already guess that you're here to talk about some job or whatever. I ain't got all day, so talk."
Sho and Gerard exchanged a quick look. Then Gerard stepped forward. "We're gathering a team. And yes, it's for a job, as you so cleverly deduced." He pulled out the envelope, containing the usual: a plane ticket, a business card, and the most necessary of informations. Gazille accepted it and tore it open at once. He discarded the ticket and business card quickly, just giving off a quiet "Hmph" when he read Makarov's name. After skimming through the scarce information (Gerard had intentionally left it that way. He had found out from earlier experience that it was much more likely to recruit a fellow-in-crime for a job if he just threw them so much of a bait. Just enough to make their mouths water, as he liked to say.) he threw the whole stack carelessly at the table behind him. "Nice try, pretty boy, but if you take me for some brat you can bait like a kitten, you got another one comin'. Tell me what this thing is about right now, and I won't slug you for having the cheek to come in here and trying to trick me into some petty lowlife-get-together." With that he folded his arms and glowered at the pair, an air of both expectancy and irritation around him.
The feeling was somewhat mutual, since Gerard had to keep his jaw from working tensely with annoyance. This upstart-thug dared to give him lip! With a few deep breaths, he tried to regain his cool. Very well, if that loudmouth decided to get cheeky on him, there would be no helping it. Of course, sooner or later he would have to give Gazille a good talking-to, since he had challenged him that openly, but he preferred to do so in a place where he could influence the outcome of this in a more wholesome manner. For now, he would comply.
"Okay okay, no need to get all twitchy. Look, it's like this…"
Barely half an hour, after being interrupted by Gazille for god knew how many times, Gerard let out relieved sigh. Gazille, he knew now, was everything but a good listener. During his tale, he had more than once regretted not taking his chances and just taking a swing at Gazille's face. Sure, Gazille was a big guy, and probably steeled by his army-time, but Gerard knew quite a bit about fighting dirty, and with the element of surprise on his side, he guessed the odds would probably turn out in his favor. But, of course, there was still that black-skinned bulk of a man, Lily, nearby, and though he would trust Sho to have his back at any time, he doubted it would do him any good in this situation. Sho's strengths laid more in his brain than his brawn, anyway.
At this point, Gazille's voice brought him back to reality. "So, as far as I understand it, you're still looking for, what, a preacher-man and one or two Mr Smiths?" - "Yeah, one or two. Maybe one more guy, depending on the situation, but we're not sure yet." Sho had taken over Gerard's place in the conversation.
Gazille looked deep in thought. "O-kay… Count me in. I'll be there, in Magnolia, in two weeks. But-" he added, as an afterthought. "-I've got one condition." Gerard's brows furrowed in annoyance, when he heard this. This guy started to be more troublesome than useful! Irritated, he snapped: "You know, I know at least five guys who could do this thing just as good as you could. If not better! We don't have to-" - "I don't mean it like that!" Gerard stopped, surprised. "Well, what is it you want, then?" Gazille scowled, looked away and mumbled something. He looked almost a little embarrassed. "Sorry? You said you had a condition, but I can't help you if you don't talk to me. So talk." Gerard said mockingly.
Gazile's scowl deepened. "I said I want you to add two tickets." Next to Gerard, Sho gave off a sound of surprise. Gerard, too, was more surprised than he wanted to admit. That was indeed an usual request. "What? Why that? Do you want to bring someone along?" Gazille nodded. "Yeah. You said you still needed two Mr Smiths. I have them." Gerard understood immediately. "What, the redhead and the guy with the weird hairstyle? You want me to bring them in? They don't have a reputation or anything. Who guarantees me that they're up to it?" Gazille's scowl deepened even more. "I do. Is that enough for you?" His voice had gained that hint of menace again, but he seemed uneasy for some reason. Gerard sensed that this was more than a friend simply doing some other friends a favor and giving them an opportunety to play with the big boys. There was a history behind this. "Okay, but are you sure? Because if they'll fuck up, it's your ass that I will be making grass out of, as they say." Gazille just waved it off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. So you'll accept them, I take it?" Gerard just pulled two more tickets out of his coat and turned around, wordlessly. "Okay, they're in. Other than me and my friend, who're out of here now, seeing as everything's been said. Come on, Sho."
And with that, they left.
AN: So, that was that. One more thing (IMPORTANT): since I haven't been getting any feedback on Chapter 3, it kinda feels like I'm writing without anyone bothering to read whatever I'm writing. So, unless there won't be any feedback this time, I will assume that no-one's been reading this, and will put the story on hold.