Chapter 29…
Sage coughed into his hand and let his bloodshot eyes roam the table below him for a moment. The flat surface was covered in dozens of blueprints, all showing different entrances and exits to the R&D labs of Atlas. His fingers tapped against the paper that showed off the ventilation systems, which would serve as his entrance.
It had been a long time since he had planned something like this… and never before on such a large scale. Sage was fearful that things might go wrong… things were bound to go wrong… and he might just have to wing things a little bit.
It wasn't the first time… but this wasn't some jewellery shop or something… the security would be vastly superior to anything he had faced in the past.
The green haired faunus stood up with a stretch and padded over to the small cot that he had been provided. He was still in the small warehouse office, his uncle had left him there to start building a plan, stating he had other business to attend to. Food hadn't been a problem, as meals were regularly brought to him by his uncles employees, but Sage still yearned for some fresh air.
He adjusted his small pile of clothes and turned on his heel, slowly walking towards the door that would bring him to freedom. Sage froze in place when the door creaked open, the doorframe obscured by the form of a hulkingly tall man.
"Rust?" Sage questioned, rubbing the morning bleariness away from his eyes.
"Rust?" A deep voice rang out. "Isn't that your teammate?"
Sage blinked and looked up past the shadows, spotting the bearded face of his uncle.
"Oh…" Sage blanched. "It's you…"
"You sound like you're unhappy to see me…"
"Should I be?"
Verdant sighed and shook his head, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. The imposing man was lacking his usual suit jacket, instead the white sleeves of his dress shirt had been rolled up, giving him a far more casual appearance.
Sage's uncle strolled over to the planning table, lifting some of the papers and reading over Sage's notes. "Do you have a plan?"
"Put the finishing touches on it last night…"
"Good… it's happening tomorrow…"
Sage choked out a surprised gasp. "Tomorrow? That's way too soon…"
"Too bad," Verdant clicked his tongue. "We can't wait any longer… My insider has told me that Ironwood is increasing security measures in the labs but has identified a weakness in the guard rotation. If we wait any longer we'll be cut off…"
"And?"
"And I need the crown soon… a buyer is on the line but they won't stick around for long…"
"I still don't understand whats so important about this stupid crown…" Sage gasped out incredulously. "Why would Ironwood lock it up? Shouldn't it be in a museum or something?"
"Sage…" Verdant chuckled to himself, gently placing the papers back onto the table. "It's not just some 'stupid' crown… quite the contrary… it carries great influence…"
"Money?"
"I don't need money," Verdant shook his head. "If I deliver it to the buyer… well… I'll have friends in higher places…"
"Right," Sage shook his head. "What about the equipment I asked for?"
"It's all waiting in another safehouse," Verdant answered, turning around and leaning against the table edge. "My appraiser helped me fulfill your requests…"
"The appraiser…" Sage muttered. "Will I ever meet them?"
"No…" Verdant shook his head.
"When do we leave?" Sage asked, but he received no response.
Verdant had a thoughtful expression on his face, he lifted his hands off the table and wrung them together in front of himself. He stood up suddenly, reaching down to grab a chair and set it down in front of Sage.
"Care to sit for a moment?" Verdant requested, sitting down into the chair he had placed. He gestured with his brawny hand to the cot that was behind his nephew. Sage reluctantly followed the request, sitting on the edge of the cot and leaning forwards.
Verdant was still for a moment. "How do you feel about tomorrow? Optimistic?"
"Maybe," Sage shrugged. "It's been a while since I've done this…"
"You were good at it," Verdant mused. "Although you're not as small as you used to be… back then you could squeeze between small cracks without a problem… you've grown…"
"That's not how I expected the conversation to turn," Sage sighed, hearing Verdant chuckle in response.
"I won't pinch your cheek," Verdant shook his head and offered a small smile. The smile vanished as soon as it appeared as Verdant leaned forwards onto his elbows. "Tell me… do you think there is any love between us still?"
"Is that rhetorical?" Sage blinked in surprise, seeing his uncle's face twist into a grimace. "I mean that in all seriousness... it's not an insult."
"Seriously," Verdant affirmed. "Take a moment to think… tell me what you come up with…"
Sage thought for a long moment about his history with his uncle. He remembered Verdant coming to meet him at the police precinct. His uncle had been a petty criminal then, without the influence to end up on police radars. Sage could remember being sent to a prep school, having dinner with Verdant… he remembered a lot of good times… and a lot of bad…
But all of that was irrelevant now…
"Maybe a long time ago there was," Sage admitted as he looked down at his feet. "I mean… you took me in after everything with my parents… you gave me a stable home."
"I did…"
"But then you pulled me into your dirty work," Sage shook his head. "I remember the first time you told me to pick someone's pocket… I couldn't believe what I was hearing…"
"And you came close to being caught…"
"I remember sneaking into stores to steal valuables… learning how to pick locks and disable alarms… you taught me all that…"
"And then what changed?"
"You know perfectly well…" Sage looked up to meet his uncle's eyes. "A cold night in the club… some poor guy being pinned to your desk… you handed me the hammer and told me to swing…"
"And you didn't do it…"
"I couldn't do it…" Sage seethed through gritted teeth. "Two days later I stole all that lien and ran off to chase my dream…"
"Yes, being a oh-so-noble huntsman," Verdant sighed. "I shouldn't have sent you to that prep school… that place filled your head with the silly notion of heroism."
"It was a more attractive life than the one you pulled me into…"
Things were silent for a tense moment.
"I don't enjoy hurting people, Sage," Verdant spoke quietly. "I felt terrible about threatening you that night… and your lady friend…"
"You still did it…"
"I did," Verdant nodded. "I'll admit… when I adopted you I feared you would be a burden. However, I suppose I warmed up to you after some time… I imparted you with skills… even if you don't appreciate them…"
"Save it-"
"Please," Verdant pleaded for a moment, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Let me finish…"
Sage held his tongue.
"A small part of me considered indebting you to me after this job… but I don't want that anymore," Verdant explained. "Whatever positive feelings between us are long gone… I understand that and I want to make it up to you. When I have the crown I want you to leave Mantle, I can provide you with transport-"
"What?" Sage snorted. "Are you about to tell me I should live happily? I can't… do you think Ironwood will be happy with me after this?"
"I have ways of keeping you off his radar, I will even offer this courtesy to those you care about," Verdant offered with a frown.
"I'll think about it," Sage stood up quickly. "Are we gonna leave, or what?"
"Go to the front entrance and get in the waiting car, it will take you to your destination," Verdant explained. "I'll stay for a while to clean up…"
"Fine... "
Sage broke for the door, peeking back at his uncle for a moment. Verdant was still seated and was wringing his hands together, an uncomfortable look on his face as he peered at the door. Sage sighed to himself and left, closing the door behind him to leave his uncle isolated.
Verdant felt another pang of guilt in his chest as the door closed, it was a sensation he wasn't really used to. He could vividly remember the night he was properly introduced to the nephew he had been forbidden from meeting; he had been a scrawny boy with scared eyes, but Verdant took pity on him.
He remembered the first time they ate together, he remembered tucking Sage into bed… or staying up during the night to ease his nephew out of a nightmare, he remembered sending Sage to the prep school…
...he had only done it because he didn't have the time nor patience to teach Sage how to fight. However, when his nephew returned he was a much stronger boy, more resilient than Verdant had ever expected him to be.
Verdant remembered the day he personally beat one of his dealers with a hammer for brazenly insulting his nephew's heritage; it was on that day he truly realized that he had come to care about his Sage… in his own, twisted way.
Now here he was… sitting in a dingy office reflecting on the relationship he had ruined with his greed and brutality.
But in the end none of it mattered… he was the king… and sometimes pawns had to be sacrificed if it meant achieving victory.
He honestly wished that the offer he made to Sage was genuine… he truly did…
… but loose ends had to be tied up. Everyone who knew about the plot would need to be silenced, both the pawns and the handlers, save for him.
He really hoped that he wouldn't be the one to do it…
Roughly one hour later…
Rust idly kicked a can across the cracked sidewalk as he continued down yet another dingy industrial street. His hands tapped against the lower pockets of his construction coat, he could feel the profile of Asher's sawn-off in the folds.
Being tall had its benefits… such as baggy clothes that could conceal otherwise unconcealable weapons…
He and his other two teammates had only arrived in Mantle about an hour ago and so far were making progress. Mantle's industrial section wasn't too big but had dozens of different warehouses scattered about. They had split up to cover more ground, Asher had taken the north, Mauve the east and he was stuck handling both the west and the south.
Lucky him…
The imposingly tall boy grabbed his scroll of his belt and used his brawny hands to unfurl the device. Taking note of the time, he tapped the joint-call button and selected Mauve and Asher.
Both their faces appeared on screen. Mauve's face was set in a neutral expression, her eyes ablaze with the determined look he was used to seeing her with. Asher looked cautious and his eyes flicked from side to side for a moment; he had left his helmet up in Atlas, cramming it into his rocket locker before he left.
"Radio check," Rust yawned out. "Are you two making any progress?"
"Nada," Asher shook his head, dark grey eyes narrowing. "Nothing but old warehouses up here… most of them were empty."
"Same here," Mauve closed her eyes and sighed. "Anything on your end, Rust?"
"No," Rust frowned. "But I still have some ground to cover…"
"We'll converge on your position," Mauve nodded.
"You sure?"
"There's nothing left here to check, just keep your scroll on and I'll find you."
"Got it…" Rust nodded. "What about you, Asher?"
"Same as Mauve, let's regroup and sweep the last few blocks."
"Hey," Rust smiled, his thoughts occupied with a distant memory. "Do you guys remember when we went looking for Blake?"
"I remember Asher dragging us out," Mauve grumbled.
"Hey!" Asher cried. "It was worth it!"
"Was it?" Rust chuckled as he shook his head.
"It got Sage to take off the hat…" Mauve frowned.
An identical look of sadness crossed their faces in unison.
"We'll see you soon, Rust," Mauve sighed. "Next radio check in twenty minutes?"
"Got it," Rust nodded. He closed his scroll gently and slipped it back onto his belt as he continued his walk.
After poking his head into any warehouse he passed Rust still came up with nothing conclusive. Like Asher had said, most of them were dilapidated and empty and offered no real clues.
After the fifth warehouse resulted in a bust, Rust stopped at a bench and took a seat, pulling out his scroll for another radio check. With the check completed he put his scroll away and rested his feet for a moment, deciding to observe the street around him.
Mantle was nothing like Atlas was. The beautiful city in the skies was filled with gleaming architecture; there were white streets, beautifully designed buildings and houses, the finest cars…
But… there was something about Atlas that Rust disliked… it was sterile. Whenever he walked around it felt like he was walking through someone's house… or a museum filled with priceless art, he always felt like he needed to watch his step and be careful.
Mantle wasn't like that though, it felt a lot more grounded (figuratively and literally) and Rust appreciated that. Sure, the streets were dingy and the weather was crap… but the place reminded him of his home town back in Vacuo; a place filled with honest, hard working people who were just trying their best and looking forward to tomorrow.
The thought of his hometown made him feel a little guilty. He had planned to visit during the summer break but Beacon's destruction got in the way. Rust wondered just how much his siblings had grown…
It had been a while since he sent them a letter… he resolved himself to fix that once he got a chance
Rust shook himself out of his musings and back to reality. He peered across the street at the building that was his next target.
"Haywood Shipping Services." The large sign over the door read.
It seemed legitimate enough… but still…
Rust stood up from his seat and fired off a quick text to his teammates to relay the name of the street he was on. With the information sent he jogged across the run down asphalt to cross the street and entered the establishment. The door chime rung as he opened it, alerting the secretary that was sitting in the small lobby.
"Haywood Shipping Services," the young woman droned, idly picking at finely manicured nails. "How can we be of service."
Rust exhaled at her lazy greeting and slowly walked up to the desk, placing his hands into the pockets of his construction pants. "Hi there... I don't suppos-"
The woman looked up at him and her eyes widened, making Rust freeze in place. She rose from her office chair and gave him a warm smile.
"He- hello…" The young woman stuttered, holding out a hand for Rust to shake. "My name is Martha, how can I help you today?"
"Yes," Rust clicked his tongue as he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I just had a few questions…"
"About what?" Martha smiled brightly, her pretty face adorned with neatly applied make-up. "Our business services?"
"I guess?"
"Unfortunately we're a tad bit busy at the moment…" Martha trailed off. She took a seat on the desk and crossed her bare legs, holding her chin low so she could look up at Rust. "Maybe… maybe you and I could work something out?"
Oh… thats where this was going…
A small part of him wanted to press further, perhaps there was some information to be gained. But then again, even if he was just leading her on he would feel bad… not to mention that it would be a violation of his and Vermillion's relationship.
There was something off about the secretary as well… but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Look, Martha," Rust gave his best polite smile. "I'm afraid I'm seeing someone…"
The reaction was instantaneous, Martha rolled her eyes and stood up, landing with a crunch back into her office chair. "Were closed…"
"What?"
"Were closed…" Martha deadpanned, drawing her scroll and clicking at the screen. "Sorry…"
"Can I speak to your manager?"
"He's not it right now…"
"You sure?"
"Yep," Martha popped the "p".
"Could I see your warehouse?"
"Why?" Martha wiggled her nose, giving Rust a cautious look.
"Nevermind," Rust sighed, turning back to the door. "Have a good day…"
"Likewise…"
Rust exited the building, releasing a sigh he didn't know he was holding in. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and looked up to the sky, spotting the bottom of Atlas floating overhead.
That had been weird… what kind of secretary would turn away a potential customer? There was something off about her as well…
… he knew exactly what it was.
The very nice dress, the neatly applied make up, the long nails, the high heels… the everything. Why would a woman dressed in such expensive clothes be heading the desk of some tiny shipping company?
The people of Mantle were hardy and practical… they were nothing like the aristocrats of Atlas. Yet, Martha looked like she could have blended in at a social party without difficulty…
There was something off about this place… he had a gut feeling… and Rust was perceptive.
Deciding against barging back in Rust instead broke off to the alleyway next to the building. He looked up towards the checkerboard windows that lined the side of the warehouse, they were perhaps eight or nine feet out of his reach.
That didn't matter though, not when you had the power to control wind currents. He had used a similar trick to peek into every locked warehouse he had searched thus far.
Rust took note of the black spray paint that covered most of the glass, which also aroused his suspicion somewhat. He walked up and down the alley until he found a clear spot of glass. Rust then got to work, finding some stray pallets that had been left around and building himself a little tower.
Rust stood atop the pallet tower and channeled his semblance, drawing the wind that blew through the alleyway underneath his feet. Slowly he began to rise up and gain altitude; he grit his teeth as he got closer and closer to the windows, reaching up with his hands to grab the small ledge underneath them and hoist himself up.
With a sure grip on the ledge Rust relaxed his semblance and planted his feet against the sides of the building for support. Now that he could look around, Rust peered through the old glass and into the warehouse…
… he audibly gasped at what he saw.
Piles of rifles and pistols, entire crates of hand grenades being moved around, what appeared to be a missile sitting haphazardly on a workbench…
"Shit," Rust mumbled, turning his head to look closer. All around the inside of the warehouse dozens of men darted around, filling boxes up and loading them onto trucks.
"Jackpot," Rust seethed through his teeth. A smuggling operation was nothing to be happy about, but it was the first clue that could actually lead them to Sage.
But then Rust's fingers began to slip off the ledge, the big man fell along with them. Rust wheezed in surprise as he fell back onto his small tower of pallets, shattering and destroying the flimsy wood below him. His aura flared up around his back to protect him from any cuts and Rust was left lying around in a pile of wood splinters.
"Ow…" Rust hissed.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Rust looked up and scrambled to his feet. Two strangers were standing in front of him, each dressed in shabby looking clothes. They both had pistols drawn, the two firearms looked far more expensive than they should have, both being a slick military design.
Rust had a hunch that they were guarding the building…
"Hey, wide-load," one of the men sneered, holding his pistol higher. "I said who the fuck are you?"
"Just passing through the alley," Rust responded in the calmest voice he could manage, holding his hands up where the two men could see them. "Honest…"
"Oh?" The other man spat. "You were just passing through? We saw you peeking!"
"You got the wrong guy…"
"Fuck you," the first man spat before turning to his partner. "What should we do with him?"
"No loose ends," the other man answered. "Keep it quiet."
The first man reached into his pocket and removed a pistol suppressor, quickly threading it onto the barrel of his gun.
"Bad move…" Rust sighed.
The huntsman in training channeled his semblance underneath the hands of the men. Two sharp gusts of wind blew their hands upwards and bent their elbows, causing the men to pistol whip themselves.
They both crumpled to the floor in a heap, completely unconscious…
Rust sighed again before confiscating their weapons and removing the ammunition, which turned out to be chambered in nine millimeter. Storing the cartridges in his coat pockets Rust carefully picked the comatose men up and stored them in a nearby dumpster.
With his opponents hidden from view Rust removed his scroll from his belt and inferred about his teammates current locations…