Italics: Thoughts
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Chapter Thirty-Four: Casino Royale, Part One
. . . . .
"In which I confessed my guts to Kennedy, a local drug lord is dead, and Mr. Freeze has gone monotone silent on me. Drama llama is having a field day with this operation."
Well, for one thing there was carnage everywhere.
Ever seen a car wreckage?
Well, when things go boom out of nowhere, everything from tires, burnt metal, bent steel, wires, and bodies can be found inches away from the crime scene. In this case, remnants of shopping bags were scattered around, scorched from the explosion. It didn't happen as close to the hotel as I initially thought (it was in front of a small boutique) but it was close enough to cause a noticeable impact.
I even saw remnants of an expensive blue dress that would have fit me perfectly if it wasn't in shredded pieces and barbecued like ribs left out on the grill too long.
You know, that sounds a lot like what my brother did many summers ago.
At least five people were injured (two girls and three college boys most likely on spring break because this was a hot tourist attraction), followed by two dead bodies. One was the driver, the other being his female passenger. The local police was there as well as the fire department (in this part of the world, the police was known as the local policia. Not sure what they would call the fire department though, since the explosion long fizzled out).
The whole area was completely sealed off, preventing onlookers from contaminating the crime scene.
Some morning I'm freaking having.
First Mr. Freeze pisses me off with his stupid 'I have no idea what you're talking about, so I'll pretend what I said doesn't mean anything' attitude.
Then Kennedy's interrogating me just so he can find some excuse to attack said freezer (with me nearly fessing up).
And now a drug lord is dead along with his girlfriend.
Just great.
Now this case has gone from stopping a drug cartel bust to terrorism.
So here I am, pacing back and forth while kicking a random pebble on the street while Kennedy's working his charm for getting extra information. We still had a cover to maintain, so he pretended that he was from the embassy and was a high-ranking official with his employees on vacation. Hopefully these guys were busy enough to not investigate false claims.
I could feel Mr. Freeze's eyes on me.
By now, I expected him to say 'Officer Redfield, your pacing is giving me a headache', or 'Officer Redfield, your idiocy never fails to amuse me' or whatever crap he usually comes up with to irritate me, but his arms are folded, with silence intact.
Great, why am I starting to regret exploding on him? Why the hell am I even considering an apology? I mean, he deserved this! He's the one toying with my emotions and pretending that nothing between us was real. Like I said, I wouldn't be surprised if it was a defense mechanism but this was ridiculous.
He was being ridiculous.
'But you know he's not the type to apologize for anything…except that time back in your kitchen.' Second conscience chimed in. 'You might as well be the first one to admit you lost your cool.'
Damnit.
With the loudest of sighs, I stopped pacing and forced myself to look at him. "…Sorry."
It was a muttered response but he heard me either way. I wasn't even surprised, considering that he could hear a pin drop a mile away.
"For what?" His tone was just as cold as when we first met.
"You know…about the whole—"
"Why would you feel the need to apologize? You didn't cause the explosion Officer Redfield." I'm used to him interrupting me, but this was unlike our previous encounters. He sounded genuinely angry…and maybe hurt?
I couldn't tell.
Then again, I could never tell with him.
"You know I'm not talking about the explosion—" Okay, I probably should have expected that response. He was pissed, I was still pissed and we were standing in the middle of terrorist crime scene.
The only one not completely pissed was Leon but only because he was still in the dark about this 'relationship'.
"I don't think it matters what you were referring to, does it?"
I didn't get a chance to reply because Kennedy was making his way towards us.
"It was a hit." He said as soon as he reached us. "Someone wanted this guy dead. He's well known around here – Javier Cortez. There's been stories about him using his money from his drug dealing business to help the poor like a Robinhood type of guy, but the police have been on his trail for months. Girl's name was Liz Corbin. She's works at her father's restaurant as a waitress. We can guess who was probably behind this whole thing—"
"We don't need to guess." Mr. Freeze didn't allow him to finish. "We have our roles to play. I'm sure you won't screw this up Kennedy, let alone Redfield. Imagine what could happen to your reputations—"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Kennedy snapped, glaring at him. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? There was a goddamn terrorist attack in the area. What the hell does that have to do with our reputations?"
That cold grin Mr. Freeze was infamously known for returned with a vengeance. "Oh, I don't know if I did wake up on the wrong side of the bed Kennedy…ask your former partner. You two were rather close."
He turned away and left before he could snap at him again.
And that was when Kennedy's gaze focused on me. "You better start talking Claire. Now."
. . . . .
I wasn't in the mood for the 'What the hell were you thinking?!' speech from Kennedy, but I knew I was going to hear it anyway.
"What the hell were you thinking?"
I was in a freaking motel room after hours of watching the local policia wrap up their investigation. Guests were shaken up by the whole ordeal and were either issued refunds or free days for the remainder of their vacation.
There went our luxurious accommodations.
This was a huge step down from scenery and furniture. Old wooden floors that creaked even if you tiptoed across them, cracked red walls, past evidence of mice infestations and cockroaches (which thankfully were gone, thanks to whatever pest control our owner friends used)—I was grossed out, but I had to also remind myself that we were undercover and it wasn't a permanent arrangement.
As for us, it was better to take our base of operations off the map. Since Kennedy knew his way around the area (he might have been involved in a case before—I wouldn't know because FBI work was classified most of the time), we found a large room for all three of us. Mr. Freeze wasn't here at the moment, stating that he would be back on time for us to deal with Sanchez.
The motel building was a safe house—the owners worked for the FBI undercover. This was the next location to settle in, just in case anything happened, which in this case was the death of the Robinhood drug dealer and his girlfriend.
So, think of it as a contingency plan.
We definitely suspected that Sanchez had something to do with this. With the drug shipment being a dud, a nightclub investigation resulting in me and Mr. Freeze taking out a bunch of thugs and apprehending Ramos, nothing should be a surprise now.
Watching Kennedy pace with a hand through his hair made me feel like that one high school girl who went to the party against her father's wishes and got caught.
That's just great.
Now I feel like I'm in the middle of a teenage bopper love story.
Yay, go me.
Sarcasm strikes again!
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
'Yep, you should definitely reply to that!' Second conscience decided to swoop in yet again at the worst possible second. 'You should say that you were definitely out of your mind sleeping with a man with more mood swings than a woman on her cycle. Oh, and by the way he's your new partner in a drug case that was just thrown at your feet. Hell, you can even mention the time he handcuffed you to a table! Imagine the horror on Kennedy's face if he gets a load of that!'
"We're trying to apprehend a dangerous drug lord and you're fraternizing with that bastard I just warned you about? And you were going to seriously keep it from me? Does Chief Randall know about this? How did this happen?"
'Oh, you know how it started. You thought he was messing around with your best friend, you tried to go undercover as some diva with your other best friend, it ended miserably, and then it turned out there was sexual tension between you and the ice maker! One thing led to another and you two were doing the nasty on the floor of your house! And Chief Randall doesn't even know…or at least you don't think he suspects something… '
As usual, second conscience was having a field day.
"I…"
And…I don't know where to begin.
Should I start with when I tried to stop Rebecca from going on a book signing extravaganza with him, only to fail miserably? Or the fact that one random stumble over a bench in the men's locker room led to an accidental kiss?
What was I even supposed to do here?
Why the hell couldn't the FBI let me and Mr. Freeze handle Sanchez alone!?
Why did Kennedy have to come along to complicate things!?
Now I ended up telling him I slept with Mr. Freeze (trust me, the infuriated look on Kennedy's face said it all).
Would things have been any different?
No, but Kennedy wouldn't have been involved.
Keeping things from him was like hiding a box of pizza from my brother. No matter how well it's hidden, he'll follow the scent like a bomb sniffing dog.
"That's why you wouldn't talk to me. I've been your partner longer than that son of a bitch and you couldn't even be straight with me! You slept with him? What the hell was going through your head?"
"How did you expect me to explain anything to you?" It was the first time I spoke since Kennedy's meltdown. "You hated his guts, warned me about him and threatened to take him out if he did anything to me. I didn't want a fight breaking out between you two! I guess…I should have known better and listened when you tried to warn me…I was wrong, okay? And no, Chief Randall doesn't know about this...at least I don't think he does..."
Cue Kennedy's frustrated groan. "When have I ever led you wrong Claire? We've been partners for a long time! Did you even try speaking with that bastard?"
"…I know, and I'm…sorry. And I tried to but…"
"I told you that he's dangerous." Kennedy sighed, and flopped down on the old worn couch next to me. "…I don't know what the hell he went through during his childhood aside from the creepy adoptive father thing, but he's incapable of real human emotions. Hell, I don't even know how he ended up with Ada. She probably fell into the same goddamn trap."
"…I don't even know anything about this Ada." Which…wasn't far from the truth. I mean, she was his ex-wife and he held a lot of contempt for her despite the daughter they had together but other than that, I had nothing.
Did I even want to associate myself with someone like that?
I mean, Mr. Freeze didn't have control over his emotions. One minute, he was like ice, the next minute he's almost like a warm, fuzzy teddy bear.
That's scary, even for me.
For the first time in my life, I found myself in a dilemma I couldn't solve on my own. I was the queen of crossword puzzles, videogames, handling my brother and his kitchen horror stories, not to mention dealing with self absorbed pricks but with someone like my new partner, I didn't know what to do.
How do you handle a man with emotional problems?
How do I handle him?
"She met him at a café in Washington." Kennedy explained. "That's all she told me. They started talking and one thing led to another. She told me the reason why they divorced was because he started getting possessive. Asking about her whereabouts, mentioning the well-being of their daughter. She told me that she had enough and started seeing someone on the side."
"She doesn't sound like a good woman Leon." I said. Which…was advice I would have given anyone who was seeing a woman who cheated during a marriage. "They could have seen a counselor to get through whatever issues they had—"
"She told me that she suggested that, but he ignored it—"
"How do you even know she's telling the truth?" I asked, cutting him off. "I don't know about the whole possessive thing. He doesn't seem like the type despite everything you've told me. It seems like she's still bitter about him catching her cheating in the first place."
Kennedy sighed. "Maybe but still, you don't know him as well as I do Claire. I know you want to believe there's some good in him—personality wise, but I don't trust that bastard. Never did, never will. I didn't need Ada to tell me something I already knew about him. I only wanted what was best for you. I don't like seeing my friends get hurt."
"Look, be careful with that woman Leon. You're warning me about Wesker, yet you're seeing his ex-wife."
Great, calling him by his last name again.
Well, Kennedy would have had a giggle fest if I told him I was calling Wesker Mr. Freeze the entire time in my head.
"I know how to handle her." Kennedy gives me his infamous smirk. "I don't think I believe everything she told me either way."
"And you think I can't handle Wesker? I've been handling myself pretty well."
Kennedy sighed again. "For the last time Claire, I don't think you're incapable of handling yourself. I just want you to be aware. That's all."
Right…aware.
I didn't like fighting with Kennedy.
Things were usually said, and then we'd have to apologize to each other afterwards. If anything, I wanted to squash the issue we had between each other before it escalated into drama llama city again.
"I guess…we're still friends, huh?" I gave him a withered smile.
Kennedy gave me an incredulous look. "What kind of a stupid question is that? We've always been friends, even when you smacked me over the head with a slipper once during a fight we had. I'll always have your back Claire."
I laughed. "Because you wouldn't shut up about losing that bet with my brother."
"Right...your brother. How is that goofball anyway?"
Yes, Kennedy had a bet with my brother over an arm wrestling contest. It was probably the only bet my brother ever won. Let's say that he paraded around with crisp two hundred dollar bills while Kennedy scowled on the couch. But that scowl didn't last long because he begrudgingly accused my brother of cheating.
One thing led to another, with broken glass and these two seconds away from wrecking the place. I had to literally throw a slipper at Kennedy's head to get him to stop.
Yep, that's how that typical Saturday evening went.
"He's fine." Even I couldn't resist smirking at that goofball comment.
"What did you tell him before you left?"
"That I'm going to a training exercise and not wreck the house while I'm gone."
He chuckled at that, but it only lasted for a few minutes, before he grew serious again. "…When this is over…you may need to sort this out. But remember what I said about him. He's a rotten bastard."
I didn't disagree with him about the talk with Mr. Freeze. We did need to reestablish some form of professionalism.
The question was how?
But then again, I kept my thoughts to myself.
Then, just like that, Kennedy changed the subject. "…That explosion at the hotel was a warning. Sanchez is getting bold again. It's too coincidental for something like that to happen. We're lucky...more people could have gotten hurt."
I wasn't about to ask him how he knew Sanchez was behind this.
Everything was pretty self explanatory. Like Kennedy said, the guy was a madman, using his influences to taunt law enforcement. Based on the additional information I received, his mom was in federal prison and his father was dead years ago, killed on a drive by assassination.
The guy literally came from a criminal family enterprise.
If he knew that Mr. Freeze and I were undercover during that meeting, then he probably had a clue that we were in the Dominican Republic.
"So…he's getting rid of anyone who's a threat." I said. "We don't know how many he had assassinated, do we?"
"Not exactly. The local policia doesn't share a lot of Intel. You have to fish it out of them."
"Did the FBI not trust me and Officer Wesker that they sent you? I thought you were staying back in Los Angeles and helping us in the background?"
"There was a change of plans."
"Right." I was seconds away from rolling my eyes. "So the big and bad federal guys didn't trust us?"
Kennedy shook his head. "It had nothing to do with trust. I…also wanted in—I couldn't allow you to take Sanchez alone on your own with that bastard. It just didn't feel right—"
Now it was my turn to glare at him. "I told you that I can handle myself. If I needed a babysitter, I would know who to call—"
"It had nothing to do with babysitting either." Kennedy gives me one of his stern looks, matching my glare. "I know you're capable of a lot of things, but I didn't like this arrangement. I care about you a lot."
His tone grew soft, which usually meant something was coming. Trust me, when a man's voice warms over like butter in a microwave, you know the inevitable is at hand.
With us facing each other, I was beginning to feel uneasy. His fingers were making their way towards my chin and before I had another drama llama situation on my hands (Mr. Freeze barging in, and seeing us sitting together for example), I pulled away and got up.
"Let's deal with the personal stuff after we apprehend the bad guy." I said, and rushed to the bathroom before Kennedy could protest.
Wow, great move Redfield.
You literally stopped your long time friend from kissing you and cheating on his girlfriend, who happens to be the ex-wife of your freaking partner, which by the way you slept with!
Smooth save girlfriend, smooth save.
That's sarcasm by the way.
La Merca Casino
Dominican Republic
Time: 8:00pm
This casino was huge.
No, this wasn't an understatement.
Neither was the fact that it was absolutely stunning.
It was a white and black ginormous structure surrounded by palm trees swaying in the breeze. The place buzzed with activity, as suspected. It wasn't surprising, considering that Sanchez was practically the owner. There were people coming out of expensive parked cars, laughing, drinking, and guys with arms wrapped around two women. Of course they were probably the ones invited to Sanchez's little party extravaganza. With the connections we had, Mr. Freeze and I had invitations of our own.
We also had an inside guy in the casino to get us in.
That didn't mean that we would be right up under Sanchez's nose, because he most likely knew about the whole Ramos incident (he was detained and was heading back to the United States even now), but we would be close enough to seem like innocent partygoers.
We had hidden ear sets to communicate with Kennedy and the small team that came with him. His men were going to be in a van at an undisclosed location, with equipment a be screens to monitor our situation.
Kennedy, on the other hand would be posing as a waiter, cueing us in on the current situation.
"Be careful…" It was the last words shared between us when he adjusted my ear piece. "…I know you're good, but I still want you back in one piece. Your brother would go insane if anything happened to you, especially when he doesn't know the truth."
I couldn't argue with him.
Chris didn't know the full details of anything I told him. Hell, he still believed that story about a training exercise with Mr. Freeze. For him to find out his sister was killed in a dangerous drug lord busting operation would send him over the edge.
I didn't want that.
Now, you might be wondering what happened after that near drama llama disaster with Kennedy I managed to avoid. Well, Mr. Freeze returned but didn't say anything about his whereabouts. Kennedy and I didn't bother questioning him. Instead, we ordered Chinese food (yes, even in the Dominican Republic, you had your typical chicken lo-mein and vegetables traditional eatery), ate and got ready for the operation.
My dress was a beautiful black necklace design—something I never really wore unless I was going to someone's wedding. I had matching black strapless heels and a silver necklace. My earring contained the ear pieces so Kennedy and the guys could listen in. I dressed in a separate room apart from Mr. Freeze but I did need help with my necklace.
You can guess what happened next.
. . . . .
I'm not the biggest fan of jewelry.
After fiddling with the damn necklace in the bathroom for what seemed to be eternity, I decided to see if I can get Kennedy to do it instead. Now the bathroom wasn't so bad—sure it had its share of peeling white paint and muddy colors (like the toilet for example, not to mention the sink with a cracked mirror) but it wasn't anything I could handle.
As soon as I opened the door (which was muddy by the way), I bumped into Mr. Freeze.
I think my heart skipped a beat the minute we made eye contact.
He was wearing the rimmed glasses from before in the restaurant, and a black tuxedo, complete with a shirt of the same color and a crimson bow tie. Okay, it's not like I've never seen a man with a tuxedo before, but the way this man wore it was unlike anything I had ever seen. He was like a blond James Bond.
Well, I don't think James Bond used that much hair gel but still.
I think he was taken aback by the way I was dressed too, with my hair done in a sleek traditional high bun with curls on both sides of my face.
Well, who knew that the female co-owner was also a stylist with friends in high places?
"I…um…" My words were hitched to the point I had to force them out. Cue the warnings that rang through my head, while at the same time fighting the butterflies at the pit of my stomach.
"Give it to me." He noticed the necklace in my hand. His voice was oddly soft, but it still held that coldness he was infamously known for already.
'Now what did you and Kennedy go over?' Second conscience earns out of nowhere. 'This man is dangerous news. It's not a good idea to be this close to him—'
I ended up handing over the necklace, despite second conscience screaming like a banshee in the recesses of my mind.
'What are you doing!? Let Kennedy do it!'
But here I was, ignoring second conscience, as usual.
"Turn around." I found myself turning around, despite the protests. I could have sworn I jumped the minute his fingers brushed against my neck.
"Relax." He said, giving me one of his irritated looks.
I didn't say anything.
Minutes passed, before the necklace was around my neck. I turned back around.
"…Thanks." I muttered, but found myself staring at the floor instead of his face.
Maybe it was because I couldn't stop the red from pooling up to my cheeks again.
Damnit Claire, get it together!
He nodded, acknowledging my words. "You…look stunning…"
I really didn't expect that out of his lips. I thought he was still angry with the fact that I slapped him but I definitely wasn't going to mention it.
"…Thank you." I said, forcing myself to look at him. "You're…not so bad yourself."
There was silence between us before he turned away and left.
. . . . .
The silence for a good while, even when we arrived. My arm was snaked through his like an actual couple. It was an awkward situation, but then again there wasn't any way to make it less than what it was.
No teasing from him, no me threatening to jump on his back and smack him repeatedly with a shoe (which I did at one point and he just laughed it off, noting that he'll disarm me before that happens. Of course it reminded me of that water incident in the office and that stupid bet so I didn't mention that again), nothing.
From here, it was official police business.
Like it probably should have been from the beginning.
Rule #36: I should have never got involved with Mr. Freeze.
Author Notes
Now we all know Claire didn't mean that. Also, I know Kennedy comes off as a jerk somewhat but from his perspective, you can understand why he's protective of Claire.
Okay, so I changed the title of the last chapter, so if you want to check that out, you can. But anyway, the action does officially start the next chapter so I hope to plan it out carefully so it doesn't sound absolutely corny (I haven't written pure action scenes in a long time). But it should be long and really good so stay tuned!
Really sorry for the long wait — had interviews, I'm helping my ninety year old grandmother and I was working weekends for extra money. The next story that should be updated soon is Liberator.
Thank for for the support!
