Italics: Flashbacks

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Chapter Fourteen: Big Trouble in De Cosa

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"In which Mr. Freeze and I were set up and I let a secret fly out of my mouth. Wait, Mr. Freeze has a secret?!"

[Wednesday Night]

[Time: 9:00 p.m]

Revenge came in small packages.

That's why it was so important to savor those moments.

One small leap for a lowly detective, one giant leap for women everywhere.

Well, okay, maybe I shouldn't say that, considering that I'm probably not the only one that has to deal with some jerk with the IQ of Albert Einstein and some other famous smart guy, but at least I'm standing up for women in general, right?

For the first time in the space of time I've known Mr. Freeze, l was finally able to throw him off his little 'nothing you say affects me' streak. Okay, it didn't last too long and my victory was short lived, but it was good to know that when the right buttons were carefully pushed, things can get a little better.

Just a little.

Remember that tank top/skirt incident? You know, the ones he 'oh so generously' decided to pick out? Well, I tried it on and surprisingly it was around my size. Which was...just as creepy as him showing up in front of my freaking house, but I decided to have some fun with this the minute I stepped out of the dressing room.

The fact that I caught him at a bad moment shows that maybe somewhere deep down inside, he was 'human' after all.

. . . . .

Flashback

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"You wanted to see me in this outfit, didn't you?"

I must have caught Mr. Freeze off guard because the phone he was busy checking (and he was checking it a lot on our way to the vintage shop) nearly slipped out of his hand. I could have taken a picture of this 'hallmark' moment, but a grin threatened to split my face in half. Sure enough, I was wearing that leather miniskirt and white tank-top as I stood right in front of him, arms folded and tapping my foot.

The tinted glasses moved away from the phone and focused on me. "…What?"

Trust me, with all the hell this jerk put me through, there was nothing wrong with a little payback.

"Don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."

"How can I pretend I don't know what you're talking about when I truly don't know what you're referring to?"

I decided to play innocent. "I mean, you didn't just pick this outfit just for the assignment. Were you also checking my size out in my file too? I'm betting that you're just an old perv and you wanted to see my little curves."

"I'm not sure if I'm following your ridiculous line of reasoning— "

"Oh, cut the crap! 'Meh, I dun' understand your line of reasoning!' You knew about my neighbor and where I lived. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew my size too!"

"I wanted you to try it on to see if its suitable for the operation. It had nothing to do with your size. Am I also supposed to be insulted by your 'old perv' comment?"

"Oh really?" This time my eyebrow rose. "You know, it's funny how this managed to fit me so perfectly, don't you think? And you know what? The fact that you didn't even deny my 'old perv' comment makes things even better."

"I've read your file, not your measurements, Officer Redfield."

"You can't fool me. You seem to know everything about me!"

He stared at me like I was a foreigner from another planet. "How did you draw a conclusion from asking you to try on an outfit to me knowing your size? Don't be foolish. I have no uses for knowing your size, unless, of course you want to share that information with me as well."

…And that's when my fun ended.

Damn it.

Any guy would have kept their mouth shut, but not Mr. Freeze. He recovered to the point my responses were harmless.

How?!

How does he keep doing this?!

I caught him off guard! How did he recover so quickly?!

"…W…What the hell are you trying to imply?" I demanded, my eyes wide as saucers the minute he said that. "That's not funny!"

Mr. Freeze put his phone away and folded his arms as well. "Well, you certainly didn't hold back when we spoke in the parking lot on Saturday, did you? I really admire your gesture."

"Hold back what? I don't even know what you're talking about— "

He cuts me off with a slow, deliberate grin that screamed 'troublemaker alert'. "Come now, don't tell me that you've forgotten your slipup so quickly."

"What slip-up?!"

"Do you always have a habit of calling your partners sexy?"

That was when I knew what he was talking about.

This is the second time I've jinxed myself.

Remember what I said about Mr. Freeze not mentioning that accidental word on Saturday when I chewed him out for attempting to hit on Rebecca? Well, he decided to use that as ammunition against me. And I said this morning that I wouldn't jinx myself, since he didn't mention anything.

I'm...beginning to hate my life.

"...That was an accident!" Now my face feels like the reddest tomato on the planet. "It doesn't change anything else I've said about you! It's not like I didn't stop myself from saying that!"

"It doesn't? My, my what a shocking revelation." You'll love that oozing sarcasm in each word. "That was a very unusual slip of the tongue, don't you think? I enjoyed the way you ran off, back to your vehicle with a face that was comparable to a cherry."

I unfolded my arms and gave him a death glare as my hands curled into fists. "I'll show you a shocking revelation you son of a...! "

Of course, my glare is ineffective, as usual. "Careful now, we wouldn't want another slip of the tongue."

"You are so full of it!"

"Here you are, arguing yet again in the middle of a vintage store. You have a knack for embarrassing yourself, it seems."

"No, you just like to annoy the crap out of me!"

"You make it easy to annoy you Officer Redfield, that's why."

"No, you're just being a pain in the ass all by yourself!"

"I think you're enjoying my 'pain in the ass' moments." That deliberate smirk was still plastered on his face.

Before I could retaliate, a voice interrupts us from across the store. "Um…are you guys like married or something? Because uh…you guys totally sound like my parents."

And that's when Mr. Freeze and I found ourselves staring at a store assistant who said that. He looked like one of those modern day gothic dudes, complete with long, scrawny brown hair, dark eyes, and wore a white heavy metal shirt and jeans. He was wearing a black leather band on his left wrist with spikes and sneakers. I don't even know how long he was standing there, but he was seconds away from laughing his ass off.

Mr. Freeze…well the grin disappeared immediately, only to be replaced with a monotonous frown. "No, but if that was the case, she would make a very annoying, yet interesting wife."

Gritting my teeth, I moved in to step on his foot as hard as I could, but he moves away, causing my Mary Jane shoe to hit empty air.

. . . . .

End Flashback

. . . . .

Why am I mentioning this?

Well, for one, my life is ruined, thanks to this tall pile of trouble, and for another, we're in the middle of a standoff, where at least twenty triad gang members are armed with batons, ready to draw blood in the middle of the room.

I should also note that if we don't make it out of this mess in one piece, I'm paying a visit to the unknown deity I've been praying to since Mr. Freeze arrived just to scream and pull my hair out. Of course, I'll be asking the usual questions, such as 'Where the hell were you?!' and 'Why did you even create this man?!'.

And then I'll look stupid in the afterlife.

This, ladies and gentlemen is what we call an operation gone wrong.

You may wonder what got us in this predicament in the first place. Well, remember when I said officers can be tempted when it comes to both sides of the law? It turns out that our F.B.I spy became a double agent in the space of time he was 'working' for Sanchez. Mr. Freeze either had a third sense or he was just lucky to assume something wasn't right because he warned me to keep my eyes and ears open. He didn't seem convinced that we were just at the nightclub to gather Intel, and was anticipating something to go wrong. And since we were supposed to be in character, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

I'm not freaking stupid you know.

It's not like I couldn't draw that conclusion myself!

We entered the nightclub, bypassing the regular party animals that usually went here. There was a code word you had to use before you were led upstairs to the private bar room. Mr. Freeze was dressed in black (not surprisingly), complete with the glasses and slicked blond hair. The muscle shirt and slacks outlined his body to the point I was sure even the bouncer had a nosebleed. He was one of those big guys, bald, wore some black t-shirt and slacks, and had beady little dark eyes. The shirt looked too small for him, as a beer belly threatened to explode from it. He smelled of cheap cologne and cigars, which made me nauseous but I managed to hold my bile down.

I acted as obnoxious as I could stand myself acting, chewing Spearmint gum and toying with my hair. Of course, Mr. Freeze had his arm wrapped around my waist, which freaked me out but this was undercover work and I had to play the part, no matter how much I hated his guts or where his hands were for the record. I was surprised that his hand felt warm, actually. I expected frozen fingertips that would have given me instant hypothermia during the operation.

...Yes, that was pretty weird.

I was known as Tina Santiago, while Mr. Freeze went by the name Carlos Rodriquez. I was blown away by the amount of Spanish he knew (the bouncer was Hispanic). The bouncer did give us trouble, claiming that he had never seen us around here before. Mr. Freeze responded in perfect Spanish that Mr. Sanchez was expecting us and if he contacted his boss, he would know everything he needed to know.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Freeze and I were led to our destination. Men in dark suits were standing around the room, including a group of mixed Asian guys, which I could only assume were with the Asian drug lord sitting next to some French guy. There were at least twelve men sitting at the mahogany table, smoking their cigars, drinking liquor, or snorting cocaine. Some of them had their girlfriends with them, all of which were just as sleazy as I imagined.

The De Cosa nightclub was like any other club, with bright neon lights and a D.J going crazy with the meringue music. (1) The bottom floor had your typical eighteen and older party guys and gals,getting drunk, and dancing around like idiots. The place was cited for several violations, but knowing Sanchez, he was the type that wormed his way out of every possible sign of trouble. The guy had his connections, could afford the best lawyers, and acted like a fashionista.

Then again, what else did you expect from a drug lord?

I didn't know much about Sanchez, other than what I learned from Mr. Freeze during our 'get together' at his apartment and what Chief Randall told us. He wasn't stupid and had possible connections to dangerous triad gangs. Busting this shipment was going to take more than spy work and dressing up like a low-ranking drug lord and the bimbo girlfriend.

Sanchez wasn't in the room, in fact he was on a flat screen television set that was placed right at the head of the table. I could only imagine that Sanchez had this planned because of all the goodies he received from Emilio Ramon.

If you were a wanted drug lord and two officers were posers in your meeting, you'd keep your distance too.

Boy, are the F.B.I guys going to have a 'fun' time with this. I could only imagine the security breaches and shouting that would come from this once this operation was over.

So, the screen comes on, and Sanchez's ugly mug is shown. With short, sand colored hair, hazelnut eyes, and the masculine features of a scrawny bullfrog, he was a definite weasel. He was dressed in a suit that was the same color as his hair, smoking a cigar while he sits cross legged in a red leather chair. He starts off with how good it is for them to gather like this, however their meeting will have to be rescheduled, due to some 'rats' in the room he was informed of.

Yep, you guessed it, we were set up.

Just great.

So much for that careful planning Mr. Freeze was prepping for.

I muttered a curse under my breath the minute he said that, while Mr. Freeze stiffened in his seat.

So now, we're dealing with Sanchez, who never intended to show his face in the first place, an agent gone rogue, and twenty bloodthirsty guys who didn't care whether they ruined their suits with blood or not. And to top it off, our backup is taking their sweet time getting to the nightclub.

I felt like I was in the middle of a scene in Kill Bill.

"So, what now, 'oh fearless leader'?" I asked, glancing at Mr. Freeze. "Any bright ideas…?"

"We fight our way out." It's amazing how he ignores my quips. "Unless you're afraid of a little challenge."

True enough, most these guys were blocking the staircase leading downstairs. We were dealing with tall guys, short guys, heavy looking guys, and skinny guys. The drug lords were already gone with their bimbo girlfriends, escaping long enough for their men to 'take care of us'.

As much as I wasn't a fan of battling thugs in a miniskirt and a tank top, I sure as heck wasn't afraid to knock some heads together.

"…Very funny. You know, I completely forgot to laugh at that. If we don't survive this, I don't want to see your stupid face in the afterlife."

"I don't intend to go down tonight and I'm sure you don't as well. Show me your expertise from the academy. Don't disappoint me Officer Redfield."

It didn't take long before the first wave of guys came barreling towards us. Mr. Freeze didn't say anything else and I didn't even get a chance to retaliate. He practically moved like the freaking wind, kicking two guys who chose the wrong time to charge at him in the chest. A mental wince shot through me as they flew backwards, landing on the floor but I didn't have a chance to stare before I was dealing with my own set of thugs. I punched one, and kicked the other in the gut after sidestepping the wild blows from the batons aimed for my head.

Trust me, these guys did everything, except discriminate.

The way Mr. Freeze moved, it was like a combination of Steven Seagal and Jason Statham rolled into one. He had no problems shattering bones, beating guys with their own weapons and slamming heads on the table, and against the bar. I would have been in complete awe, had it not been for the disdain I had for this man. Somehow, this became an unnamed competition for us as we continued to mow down thug after thug.

Um…isn't it also a bit disturbing that Mr. Freeze was enjoying this a bit too much?

I mean, blood was flying from noses, heads, and the cries coming from these guys was insane. Sure I was making some guys bleed and putting my high school gymnastics into good use but it was creepy how calm he was about the whole thing, like he had been in this kind of situation before. But then again, maybe he had been, considering that he was supposed to be this big honcho guy hailing from the C.I.A.

I should also note that he was a martial arts guru. Hence the judo throw he literally used on me when we were in the cafe.

Soon, we were making our way towards the stairs, leaving guys rolling on the floor in pain. We were fighting our way through the dark stairwell, punching and kicking until two guys flew out onto the dance floor, causing a woman to scream, gripping the guy that was supposedly her boyfriend. That pretty much caused a chain reaction and chaos erupted on the dance floor, with the D.J hitting the road, and people shouting and rushing for exits.

We must have taken out ten guys already, leaving us with the rest to deal with. They spilled out from the staircase, hopping over the guys we just took out already.

So we're in the middle of the floor, surrounded and outnumbered, just as before with some remixed version of 'I Got the Power' in the background.

I think I'm going to need extra strong coffee tomorrow morning…if I make it out alive, that is.

. . . . .

I guess my trip to the afterlife would have to wait.

I was seconds away from punching my last thug to oblivion when backup arrived. Cue the screaming party-goers rushing out the doors and onto the street while the S.W.A T team moved in, dressed in black from the helmet down.

"L.A.P.D! Get down on the ground!"

They rushed in with guns blazing, reaching the last thug and forcing him to the ground. He wasn't very compliant, shouting a strong of curses as handcuffs were slapped on him. I mean, I still can't believe I took our several thugs by Mr. Freeze's side.

Exhausted, I found myself stumbling backwards until I backed into his chest.

"Gah!" I jumped, spinning around like a top. I would have fell on my ass, had it not been for his quick grip on my wrist.

"Not bad..." He commented, letting go of me. I guess even he was exhausted because I didn't see any sign of a creepy smirk or his sarcastic gestures.

Was Mr. Freeze being sincere?!

Did hell just freeze over?!

Was I seeing things?

Did I need glasses?

"...you're not as useless as I initially thought."

And that's when the sincerity ended.

Despite my exhaustion, I just gawked at him. "…You thought I was useless?!"

The words just rolled off his tongue naturally. "Perhaps useless wasn't the word I was going for, but I was surprised by how well you handled yourself."

"Yeah, well I'm not a pushover and Kennedy was my former partner." I retorted. "I've been through much worse."

"Yes, Agent Leon Kennedy. I'm familiar with his work." There was a certain edge of bitterness in his tone but I didn't really pick up on it.

Instead, I just smirked at his response. "Gee, what else do you know? I'd say you did more than dig around my file."

Yep, I just pulled off a sarcastic reply.

Go me.

Mr. Freeze just stared at me. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it means Officer Freezer." I mocked, throwing those same words he used against me.

Before Mr. Freeze could reply, we were interrupted by Chief Randall making his way towards us. Every indication pointed to him being pissed off by the operation, which was understandable. Emilio Ramon was not only aligned with Sanchez, he placed the entire F.B.I department at risk.

Things just became very complicated.

By the way, he was wearing street clothes – white button down shirt and jeans. It was kinda' out of place with the whole nightclub spiel but then again this wasn't the time to play fashion police.

"Well, this operation was rigged from the start," I said, the minute he stopped in front of us. "Did we even have a chance of knowing that Ramon would betray us?"

I don't think my words came out as business-like as I had hoped.

Chief Randall sighed, giving me a withered look. "Redfield, I am not in the mood for your antics. This is a serious matter and the F.B.I is in jeopardy. No, we didn't know that Ramon would botch the operation and side with Sanchez. This puts us in a difficult spot."

"It does," Mr. Freeze said. "We need to question one of the suspects, if possible."

Yeah, when an officer mentions questioning, it usually means interrogation. Trust me, I read about Mr. Freeze's file and when it came to interrogations, he was no slouch. If you thought perps passing out in the middle of the office was terrifying, then seeing him in action in an interrogation room was bound to give anyone nightmares. The last guy he interrogated…well let's just say that things didn't end well. Somehow, Mr. Freeze was placed on modified duty for a couple of weeks during his officer days in Washington.

Um...I guess I did a little more snooping around than needed when I read about him.

...And that's when my accidental outburst sets in.

"We could get clues on the shipment." I pitched in. "We didn't quite get them tonight so there's always Option B. Hopefully we can question one of the guys without an…incident…?"

"An incident?" Mr. Freeze repeated, staring down at me to the point I could have sworn those frozen orbs turned me into stone. "What incident are you referring to?"

"Did I mention incident? I mean I don't think I did..."

"Redfield..." Chief Randall growls.

I swallowed hard, staring up at him with a nervous laugh. "Uh...I mean...the suspect we're questioning should be safe...right?"

Mr. Freeze's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by safe?"

"You know what I mean..." That's when I start fiddling with my fingers. I usually do that when I've said too much so I try explaining myself away to ease the tension. "...like we really need this suspect safe..."

"Why wouldn't he be safe?" Chief Randall questioned, giving me the Clint Eastwood glare along with his infamous scowl. "What exactly are you referring to Redfield?"

"I wasn't referring to anything!" I insisted. "I'm just saying that hopefully the suspect will be on um...one piece when questioning is...over?"

Chief Randall's scowl deepened.

Mr. Freeze didn't look happy at all. Okay, you're probably going to ask me 'when does he ever look happy?!' but this is a whole kind of 'not happy' we're talking about. He's staring at me like he's about to grab me by the freaking neck.

And that's when I knew I was screwed.

Did you ever hear about that saying about being like a deer that's caught in headlights?

Sometimes, it's best to keep the lips sealed.

Rule #14: Don't ever bring up a new partner's past, especially the one I'm partnered with. He doesn't like when the past is brought up.

Author Notes

Uh oh, what did Claire read in that file about Mr. Freeze regarding interrogations? Claire seems to get herself in these little slipups, doesn't she?

Well, based on the poll on Mr. Freeze's possible ex-wife, we will know by Chapter Sixteen who it is. I would like to thank everyone for the support and reviews so far, I really appreciate them. I have done some format changes in regards to this story and Resident Evil: Endgame (if you are a Jake/Sherry fan, you can check it out), where author notes will now be at the bottom of every chapter.

'Big Trouble in De Cosa' is a throwback to the movie 'Big Trouble in Little China'.

(1) Meringue is Spanish music that's usually played at parties.