Sometime during the tour...
"...You know, I've been thinking," Nora began.
"Scares me more than the Grimm," Yang quipped with grin.
"Hey, Weiss," Nora called, "do you think Mr. Arc ever encountered your family?"
"What kind of question is that?" replied Weiss, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you think Jaune's dad ever came into contact with my family? We hardly know each other as it is."
"It's just, he mentioned the Schnee Dust Corporation during his story. When he was hunting down the Elite in Atlas, he might've crossed paths with your family at some point. Maybe indirectly, maybe not. You could've passed by him years ago, just another stranger on the streets."
"I can't answer that for you, Nora. If something did happen that involved Mr. Arc and the SDC, odds are we'd never hear about it."
"Well, maybe during dinner, we can ask him about it," suggested Nora. "Don't you think it'd be interesting to hear about secret SDC incidents?"
"Um, I'd rather not," Weiss mumbled, looking away.
"Come, on. Aren't the least bit curious about what went down?" Nora pressed.
"Nora, if Weiss doesn't want to hear about how Mr. Arc sullied the good SDC name in his road to vengeance it'd probably be best to drop the matter entirely," Ruby joined in the conversation. "Besides, Mr. Arc bled for Blake's home, fighting for untold months against an army." Blake flushed at the memory.
"What's the worst he could've done in Atlas?"
Atlas, Schnee Dust Corporation Main Headquarters, Several Years Ago...
Atlas is a young kingdom built atop the bones of its predecessors, Mantle. Rigid in their militaristic culture, the country has often been criticized for their unpopular stance on politics, bordering on totalitarian in light of their current leadership. That being said, they are well respected throughout the world, if only because of their impressive military presence and abundance of heavy industries, Schnee Dust Corporation chief among them.
It is a harsh and unforgiving landscape that has forged a people tougher than iron and colder than ice. But for a country bumpkin like Jonas Arc, it was where he found true love in the frigid cold that one fateful ice fishing trip so many years ago.
Alas, he returns to the country not for sport or relaxation, but on a personal crusade of vengeance, one that had landed him on the doorstep of one of world's most powerful megacorps, the Schnee Dust Corporation.
Word is the head honcho of the SDC had connections to the Elite, and had promised to disclose information to the world's authorities in exchange for amnesty. Jonas needed that information, one way or the other.
Schnee Dust Corporation's main headquarters was locked down tighter than a nun's chastity belt. Around the clock security, motion sensors, bio-scanners, voice recognition systems, the works. A pigeon could land on the roof of the building and anything with a gun strapped to it would be prepared to shoot its wings off at a moment's notice if it started making a ruckus.
Getting in there was going to be tricky, one wrong move and he'd be politely escorted off the premises in an SDC brand body bag (now available with your choice of sequins, matte finish, and custom embroidery).
And so, it came as a surprise to everybody, Jonas included, when his brilliant scheme to infiltrate the business equivalent of a fortified army base ultimately came down to mailing himself right to Jacques Schnee's own penthouse office via the Atlesian Postal Service. It was a crazy idea, no doubt, but it was crazy enough to work.
Bursting out of the large two by two by five foot cardboard box and scaring the living daylights out of everybody in the room, covered head to toe in foam packing peanuts, Jonas proceeded to make a mess of the place. In quick succession, he incapacitated the bodyguards staffed just outside the door, subdued Jacques Schnee, and helped himself to some water from a nearby water cooler to quench his thirst after being stuck in a box for who knows how long.
Jonas Arc breathed a sigh of relief as he finished tying the knot on the orange extension cords that kept CEO of Schnee Dust Corporation Jacques Schnee restrained to his large and in charge CEO's chair. With a curt tug of the cords and a disgruntled growl from his captive, he dust his hands off and spun the chair around, bringing him face to face with Jacques.
"Howdy. Name's Jonas," Jonas greeted with a toothy grin. "Now, mister Jack. You're probably wondering why I broke into your private office, incapacitated your bodyguards, tilted your paintings, and tied you to your chair with an extension cord I found while rummaging through the utility closet. Well, it's a funny story really-"
"Tsk, spare me the details. I've heard it all before," Jacque interrupted, scoffing at Jonas. Even in his current predicament, a man of his status could only display mild irritation towards his captor. "And it's Jacques, not Jack!"
"Jacques, Jack, same thing," Jonas waved it off.
"Be that as it may," Jacque continued through gritted teeth, "do you have even the slightest idea whatsoever to the ramifications of your foolhardy actions?!"
"...Is that a rhetorical question?" Jacques' eye twitched at the response.
"You know, I almost pity you. Almost. Many have gotten to where you are now. Corporate saboteurs and assailants, all hired to do the dirty work of cowardly benefactors hoping to grasp even a glimpse of my success. They've tried brute force, and they tried espionage. Regardless of the methods used It's all ended the same way. In a few minutes, my private security force with flood the room and reduce you into an unrecognizable lump of flesh and fabric."
"Though I suppose as a courtesy I'll humor you in the traditional captive's manner." Jacques cleared his throat and tried his damndest to make it sound like he was terrified. That being said, it was quite obvious he was phoning it in. "Oh no, I've been captured! Whatever shall I do? What could my captor possibly want?"
"..." Jonas's expression hardened as his usual jovial demeanor faded away. He glared daggers at the man before asking in a voice so cold the kingdom of Atlas felt hot for a split second, "Where is he?"
The question catches Jacques off guard and his patronizing act is dropped immediately. "What are you talking about? Where's who?"
"You were associated with a man who has far more power than you will ever hope to achieve in your lifetime," Jonas continued, his voice never losing its icy edge. "A few days from now you will disclose information on that man to the world's authorities. You will tell me who he is and where he's hiding so that I may gut him like a fish."
"I... I don't know who you're talking about," Jacques uttered hesitantly, his calm demeanor faltering. Jonas's eyes narrowed.
"Now, don't you lie to me, Jack. It ain't polite. I don't know how or why, but given their reach and influence I can safely assume you're just a sock puppet to them, a talking head. A man of your status? The CEO of the world's largest producer of dust, military hardware, and other consumer products? You're the perfect candidate to exploit."
Jonas leans in close and scowls, his expression positively bestial in appearance. "They're on the run, the real important folks up high know and are scouring every corner of this blessed earth looking for 'em. You're gonna give one of them up anyway so cut the horse plop and tell me what I wanna know."
"I'm telling you, I don't know what you're talking about!" Jacques roars in defiance, yet reels back into his seat defensively. "And even if I did, this is not a matter you should concern yourself with!" He begins looking around frantically, his backup should've arrived by now. "Guards! Guards! Where the hell are they!? What am I paying these people for!?"
"Oh, they'll come alright. Soon as they deal with the core meltdown I caused earlier to buy us some time together."
"C-core meltdown?! Are you insane!" Jacques' demeanor shattered at the mention and he began losing his mind. "That core is powered by some of the rarest dust ever mined on the planet. It took decades of research to make it stable enough to be used a power source! If it goes critical in this very building, it will catalyze with the other dust stockpiles and turn everything into smoldering crater that would stretch for miles!"
"Oh, no. That sounds terrible!" Jonas replied mockingly. "But not important enough to change the subject. Now, give me a name."
"You have to let me go! If I don't oversee the containment procedures we're all going to die!" Jacques struggled in his bindings, rocking the chair back and forth.
"I'll let you go as soon as you give me what I want. Now, a name!" Jonas shouted.
"I told you god damn it. I. Don't. Know!" his response earned him a swift, solid hook to the temple by Jonas. "Gah! You insolent mongrel!"
"Don't lie to me! You know who he is, and the authorities want that information. Tell me his name!"
"I can't!" Jacques relented, wincing at Jonas's fury. "The authorities want him alive. I need him alive. They won't permit me amnesty unless I do. I-I can't let you kill him."
"That not for you to decide. They must pay for the atrocities they've committed upon Faunuskind."
"Vengeance for those animal skinwalkers? Is that what this is about?! Why do you care, you're human." Jonas was very tempted to slug Jacques upside the head again, but held himself back at the last second.
"Those men orchestrated my friend's death to fulfill their sick agenda," Jonas replied, visibly distraught at the memory.
"If you think I'm going to say 'I'm sorry for your loss,' you're sorely mistaken," Jacques grumbled. "But that can't be it. A single meaningless individual's life snuffed out by forces that control the world we walk on can't be the sole cause to drive you to such insanity. Unless..." Jacque paused and felt his heart stop for a split second. The blood drained from his face and he turned a fearful gaze towards Jonas, his inner horror renewed. "It's you..."
Jonas smiled wickedly and wasted no time in capitalizing Jacque's terror by plunging a leather boot right into his chest. The kick was so forceful that it sent Jacques crashing through the large wall of windows situated from behind his desk and out into the open air hundreds of feet above ground.
Time slowed down for Jacques as his world spun out of control. Gravity took hold of him and he plummeted him straight towards the cold earth, stopping abruptly only twelve feet into his descent as the whiplash snapped him into his seat and shards of glass whistled by him.
"Oh, God!" Jacques screamed as he dangled hundreds of feet off the ground. The wind was strong this high up. Gust of frigid air blasted him from every angle, rocking him side to side in his precarious position.
"No God, only me!" Jonas taunted from above. His foot was held firmly in place on the extension cord he used to tie up Jacques, the one thing that stood between Jacques' continued existence and a very messy end on frozen asphalt.
"Please, I didn't know!" Jacques shouted over the winds, heart beating so quick it damn near bursted out of his chest. "They came to me one day, forcing me to give up more resources, more soldiers that I didn't have! I've never seen them so desperate before! I didn't believe them when I overheard it was all to get one man! Months later after their dissolution they started disappearing one by one! I never had a choice in any of their operations! let me live!"
"Give me the name!" Jonas yelled, peering over the ledge.
"I can't!" Jacques throat grew hoarse with each shout. "I'll be ruined! The SDC will be ruined! I can't afford that!" The cord slipped from Jonas's foot and Jacques plunged a few more feet, washing another undiluted wave of terror over him. "Aaaah!"
"You got a lot more problems to worry about than your damn reputation at the moment, Jack!" Jonas let slip his foot again. "This extension cord is only a hundred foot long. And unless you want me to test that out, do yourself a favor and tell me the name!"
"No!"
Another slip.
"The name!"
"Please!"
One more.
"The name!"
"I'm begging you!"
The last one.
"The! Name!"
"ALEC GREYWORTH! ...His alias is Alec Greyworth." Jacque finally let slip, and felt a heavy weight lifted from his sore shoulders. But the man was an absolute wreck. The adrenaline that coursed through his body calmed and the biting cold finally set in. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot from sobbing in his seat, his cheeks stained with tears. Even as Jonas began hauling him back up, the tension he suffered never left him.
Things were silent. With the exception of the howling winds, both Jonas and Jacques were deathly quiet. When Jacques finally reached the safety of his office, Jonas untied him and watched with pity as he collapsed onto his knees, ignoring the bits of glass scattered across the floor that were digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, Jonas spoke calmly.
"What's your connection to this Alec Greyworth."
"...I met him several years ago, when I wrested control of the company from my wife," Jacques began tiredly. "My first year was a disaster. Stocks were plummeting and clients were jumping ship left and right. The SDC was at an all time low and the old board of directors were furious with my ineptitude. I was going to end up the greatest laughingstock of the business world." He chuckled bitterly. "And then, I turned it all around."
"That's right, I remember that," said Jonas. "It was all over the news. The new CEO of the Schnee Dust Corporation and his miraculous turnaround. Young and inexperienced Jacques Schnee pulls an overnight success just when things were at its bleakest. The news networks ran that story for months, had your face on everything from magazines to holovid monitors."
"Hmph, of course they did." Jacques turned over and rested his back against the chair, a wistful look in his eyes. "That was what the world was supposed to believe. In reality, my saving grace came in the form of Alec Greyworth, or so he called himself. He showed up in this very same office one day, and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. In exchange for a seat on my board, he would make all my problems go away."
"For years as I lead my the company I toiled under his thumb, diverting countless resources for him and his colleagues for their goals, no questions asked. When their operations fell apart and they dissolved, I wasted no time in cleaning myself of their taint. I cut a deal with the world's authorities, selling out Greyworth in exchange for amnesty and maintaining clean image. And then you showed up," he spat.
"...Tell me where he's hiding, Jack," Jonas requested, his tone lighter than before.
"I own a private beachfront property far to the eastern shores of Atlas. It doubles as a safehouse as much as it is a winter getaway. You'll likely find him there." Jacques slumped back into his desk and sighed heavily. "Hmph, why am I even telling you this? None of it matters anyway. We're going to die soon. The core-"
"-Is fine," Jonas interjected, causing Jacques to snap his head towards him. Jacques stared at the man incredulously, his jaw slack.
"What are you talking about? You said that the cor-"
"I lied, you jackass." Jonas smirked. "You're giving me way too much credit. I ain't that smart."
"But, the security force-"
"Is occupied with something else..."
"Where did all these animals comes from!?"
The office and labs of the SDC were in total chaos. Employees huddled beneath the safety of their desk as squirrels, raccoons, and other large rodents ransacked the floor, one trash bin full of goodies at a time. Moose and stags by the herdful trotted down the hallways, bumping into unfortunate interns and overall causing a major headache for the guards stationed there. It was impossible to work, let alone function in any given capacity during the madness.
The SDC had become one big zoo and we had Jonas Arc to thank for it.
"I cut a hole through the wire fence and planted a trail full of food pellets to lead animals into your warm toasty building right before I mailed myself in. As it turns out, your guards, as well trained and disciplined as they may be, wouldn't dare shoot at a poor defenseless woodland critter without looking like an heartless animal hater in front of his peers."
"You-you!?" Jacques face turn hot and red. He had been bamboozled and the embarrassment of it all reignited his rage. "Why? Gah! You!?" His words were caught in his throat, he couldn't process his anger properly. Chuckling to himself, Jonas dusted himself off and walked over to the ledge, his clothes billowing in the wind.
"Well, it's been fun terrorizing you and your staff and causing untold thousands in property damage, but I have places to be and skulls to cleave. Toodle Loo!" Jonas leaned over the ledge, preparing to jump.
"Wait!" Jacques exclaimed, reaching out. "You can't leave me like this! If I don't turn in Greyworth the SDC will suffer for it! I'll suffer it!"
"Hey, that's your problem, Jack, not mine. Besides, I'm sure you'll think of something." Jonas turned towards Jacques and gave him the stink eye. "Oh, and don't think for a second that I didn't notice that portrait on your desk. For a married man and a father of three, you sure don't act like either. If our paths ever cross again, pray it's under better circumstances. Adios, Jackie!"
Without another word, Jonas shoved Jacques aside and leapt through the air. With a mighty holler, he disappeared into the mist, leaving behind an agitated and bewildered CEO in his wake.
Though Jacques managed to luck his way out of a corporate disaster and maintain his place in the world, to this day, he harbors a particularly hate-filled grudge towards Jonas Arc for the twenty eight minutes of hell he was subjected to so long ago. Though, unlike his long dead and/or incarcerated benefactors, seeking vengeance would be a fruitless pursuit, for he knows better than to step on the White Fang's tail.
And besides, if it weren't for that indignant oaf of a man, he'd still be working for the Elite. In a cosmic sort of way, he was thankful for the turnout. Not that he'll ever admit it, mind you...
A/N: This was written as a way to break writer's block a few months back, alongside the chapter Sisterly Love. It was a fun write, that was partially inspired by Jackie Chan's movie, The Foreigner. Or as I like to called, "Jackie Chan terrorizes the Irish for two whole hours while constantly being referred to in a derogative manner."