Chapter 98: Discrepancies and Secrets

After all the years on the run, and everything she had endured; pirates, government agents and 'supposed' allies trying to get her as compensation for their aiding of her, Robin had never felt so much fear that she did right now. Fear had always been there, but up until now she had thought that she had developed an immunity to it. Still seeing the mundane indifferent expressions of the CP9 agents as they interrogated Iceberg about the location of plans pertaining, to and of, the ancient weapon Uranus. The said agents beat, tortured and shot Iceberg, and then left him lying in bed covered in blood, bandages and gunpowder residue to succumb to his injuries before ordering her out after them. Robin sighed as she felt her heart pounding hard in her chest. Her hand hovered above the door handle, struggling to take ahold and push it open, biting her lip and trying to vanquish the memories of the last half an hour from her brain. she flinched as she was as forcefully pushed out of the room; the smell of blood, sweat and disinfectant leaving her behind. "Keep moving, chapappa" the agent known as Fukuro muttered, making her tumble into the agent; Blueno, in front of her. The dull, vacant looking Blueno spun around and struck Robin in the stomach "mind where you're going wench! You're lucky the admiral want you alive, otherwise Lucci would have killed you by now". That declaration only heightened her terror, and increased her resolve to keep her friends out of the warpath of CP9.

From his office on the top floor of the Galley-La building, Iceburg could just about see the whole of the dock complex and beyond into some of Water Seven as well. Down in dock one, he could see fire works being set off; no doubt celebrating the completion of a ship. Ship grand ceremonies were always fun to witness and be part of, but as mayor of the city he had duties to perform. As he took ahold of several documents, perusing them at his leisure, he noticed that there were inconsistencies in this months import files; 'how can 400 tonnes of wood be ordered, and then misplaced' he mused, rubbing his forehead in agitation. About five seconds later, his frown turned to horror as the consequences of the discrepancy hit him. The file was vague, but it seemed to imply that someone had misappropriated the delivery for some other use, and leaving Galley-La in the dark. It was written in a very bureaucratic careful managed way that was both stating a fact but being completely indifferent about it as well.

"What the…?" Iceburg muttered, his secretary was usually more on point about seeing discrepancies like this, Iceberg found that his nerves were tingling. Something was off. Pushing himself upright, and away form his desk, the Mayor made his way out of his office and down the stairs towards the docks; a lack of wood could compromise everything. "Galley-La would be ruined..." he muttered, jumping the last couple of steps and dashing out of the building towards the dry docks.

The shipwrights, managers and other personnel on duty or partaking of celebration, didn't even notice as Iceburg burst into the first of the dry docks. Without wearing his usual suit, and his normal entourage, nobody even gave him a second glance. So Iceburg went about carrying out a thorough inspection of all materials that were in dry dock one. He was closely observing one particular shipwright, busy hammering in server wooden pegs into the hull of the ship and then covering them with tar; when a tall man in a blue shirt and black trousers operated pointing a truncheon at him. "Can I help you?" The security guard demanded suspiciously. Iceburg glared back, his patience rapidly depleting. He had wanted to carry out this material inspection on the quiet as to keep the discrepancies secret but now... "I'm the bloody president of Galley-La, you imbecilic man! Now stand down and let me continue my inspection of supplies and worker contribution".

It a further ten minutes for someone to finally recognise him and call back the guard, who looked somewhat frightened of or his job afterwards. As did all of the surrounding shipwrights and managers, all now eagerly mulling about at a speed that was obviously designed to make themselves appear more active than they had been. As Iceburg charged into the second of the seven dry docks warehouse, the workers word had reached them that the company boss was carrying out inspections, and so the quartermaster and shipwrights were all trying to look busy. The quartermaster himself was waiting for Iceburg, ashen faced and clutching a file in his hands. "Ah, Mr President," the quartermaster said sheepishly, twitching as he he'd out the file to the boss. Dry dock two's manager was a short man with a pot belly, black moustache and a nervous twitch. "I'm so sorry, we weren't expecting you, otherwise we'd–" Iceberg simply waved off the quartermasters words. "Yeah, yeah," he waved the piece of paper and the file. "You sent this to my secretary, right? What exactly is the problem?"

The quartermaster looked very ill, as if he didn't want to state the problem in front of the highest ranked member of Galley-La. "Well...It's just an administrative misstep, it's really nothing so urgent that would require your own personal presence..." he attempted to placate. Yet Iceberg pressed on, "Enough! Just tell me whats eating!" The manager now looked like he a lamb being dragged to the slaughter; pale, clammy and sweating. "It's most definitely not a mistake I have made, of cou–" "The problem." Iceburg growled through gritted teeth. Tugging at his shirt collar, the manager began to explain. "Well, it's to do with the wood that was ordered. You know, the wood for project 540. Well, I was, um…" The quartermaster coughed. "…I was just wondering when the delivery was being made?" All the oratorios and annoyance disappeared at once, and Iceberg blinked stunned into silence, "that's not possible. The wood should already be here. My secretary told me that it was here". Iceberg held out his paper with Khalifas writing on it, stipulating as much. "Well, yes, I'm aware of that," the quartermaster said, almost shivering as he read the letter, "I assumed the stock was late but when I was chatting with one of the other quartermasters, well, they were under the impression that that wood was here." Timidly the man motioned to his warehouse behind them. It was then that Iceburg realised that there were warehouse was empty, That's not right, Iceburg thought dumbly. 'Warehouses should always be full'.

The man was now practically squirming. "It's nothing to do with me!" He gasped. "I just sign off the manifesto, at the port and take the goods! I signed off the recent merchants arrival but the goods didn't arrive..." "Who does?" Iceburg demanded. "I don't know!" The quartermaster replied. "Whoever writes the cargo manifest I suppose..." "I write the manifest!" Iceburg snapped back. "This doesn't make sense," Iceburg muttered, brow furrowing. "I sawthe merchants unloading crates and boxes at the docks. We carried out inventory checks and quality management checks. All of the paperwork is in order, so how did this happen!" The quartermaster held up his hands innocently. "It's nothing to do with me!" He protested frantically. "We haven't received anything here!" Horror spread across Iceberg's face as the magnitude of those word struck him. 'We haven't received any supplies'. Spinning around and grabbing the manager by the scruff of his shirt, the mayor looked decidedly ill and fraught with inner panic. "You haven't received any deliveries? Iceburg replied smoothly, the other man shook his head, unable to speak. "None?" Frantic nodding was the response he got back. Iceburg blinked, fear and confusion dying in his eyes. "But… But…" He stammered. "If there hasn't been any wood…what the bloody hell have we been building that ship out of?"

'What a lovely day', Lucci thought pleasantly, sitting on a ledge overlooking Dock One. They were some distance away, but from this vantage point Lucci and all of CP9, plus Nico Robin, could still make out the large crowd. Music and the aroma of hot food filled the air, as well as the laughter of playing children. And far off out in the distance the faint screech of the Sea Train bringing in more visitors. That was their transport out of the city once their carefully orchestrated civilian uprising began, and Galley-La became redundant. A gentle hum in the background had Lucci turn, seeing Blueno and Fukuro whistling awaiting the moment of change.

Lucci smirked, not bothering to turn around, "You came," he said simply. Robin's eyes were dark, full of fear and acceptance. She wasn't handcuffed, but Kalifa and Kaku still flanked her on either side. The other two CP9 agents both wore suits, as per their uniform. "Did I have a choice?" Robin growled, her eyes becoming defiant as she stared down the man before her. "Just promise you'll leave my friends out of this," Robin said finally. "I'm the one that you want, they are meaningless to you. Promise me you won't hurt them and I'll come with you willingly". There was a pause as Lucci looked at her, reaffirming his opinion of her. "You must really like these pirates if you're willing to die for them" he sighed. Robin flinched at hearing die but out of the corner of her eye she saw Kaku's eyes widen ever so slightly; as if he was hearing this for the first time. Khalifa giggled before going silent again. "What are you doing here, Lucci?" Robin demanded. "Why are you in Water 7? You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

The grin that plastered Lucci's face made her shiver, the memories of being hunted before being saved by the now dead former warlord Torro D Veticular.

Her body stiffened as Lucci walked stopped before her, his fingers stroking her face. Slowly. "You always make my missions fun whenever you turn up," he whispered gently. Inadvertently making Kaku flinch. Lucci chuckled, moving He to brush her hair away for her eyes. Robin had to force herself not to recoil at his touch. "Ah. Are you still thinking about that night we spent together, all those years ago?" Lucci said quietly. "…About that precious, tender time we had with each other?" "Hahaha" Blueno and Fukuro snorted from behind. "Don't flatter yourself," he muttered coldly. "You were a mission then and you are a mission now. I was ordered to sleep with you, and so I did. If the order came to kill you, I'd do so without question, mercy or regret. Yet, right now you are an asset that Mariejois and the World Government need, you will help bring about the fall of rival World Republic".