It wasn't the first time he'd sat in a cell, waiting to be brought for arraignment. It also wasn't the first time he concluded the police evidence wouldn't hold up, and they'd have to let him go, so they were using every possible means they could to stall.
They pretended they had a cooperating witness telling them everything in the next room over, cutting a deal to save herself and spilling all she knew. The police knew Torchwick had a female accomplice, but they didn't know why he worked with her and trusted only her: because she would never rat him out. He also knew she got away before the police got anything more than a glimpse while she was still disguised, so at best they were actively searching for a girl matching the wrong description.
They offered to reduce his sentence if he turned over the location of his stash. That offer was probably genuine, because they'd make a few powerful friends if they turned over millions of Lien in Dust and would still get the arrest of a criminal on their record, so they were probably going to push hard for him to take a deal. But they wouldn't be asking for him to turn over the location and claim they had his partner as a cooperating witness, so they ruined their chances of tricking him right from the start.
All Torchwick missed while he waited in the cell was a cigar to help pass the time. When the police and their legal friends in the city realized he wasn't going to play ball they issued nothing but threats before heading back out to desperately find something they could charge him with above his possession of Dust without a legal bill of sale. All they could stick him with was a fine. So he was lying back on his cell's cot, already counting out the few thousand Lien he'd have to pay, counting out the numbers on one hand and picturing ceiling tiles as a small stack of charge cards.
But even as they grew increasingly desperate to find some other charge they could trump up and slap on before they had to take him to the courthouse… someone else took an interest in his case. Someone much higher up the ladder than the rank and file police and ambitious attorneys looking for a bust.
"Mr. Torchwick, isn't it?" inquired the voice, as a gray haired man in a fetching green scarf and shaded glass spectacles. "Do you know who I am?"
Roman didn't even look up. "Never had the pleasure."
"I'm Professor Ozpin, the Headmaster at Beacon," the older man introduced.
"Hello," was Roman's neutral reply.
"Nice to meet you," Ozpin continued, observing some formality. "Do you know why I requested to see you?"
"Because you think I have some big stockpile of Dust and want me to tell you where it is?" Torchwick posited. "That seems to be what all the suits are asking me about."
"While that is of interest to me, no, I'm not here to move in on whatever hoard you've managed to secure," Ozpin assured him. "Instead I've come to inquire whether you'd have any interest in recruitment."
Torchwick just barely managed to avoid snorting at the offer, still releasing a deep exhale. "Recruited? I think I'm a bit old to go back to school, Professor."
"It's never too late in life to learn something new," Ozpin pointed out. "Besides, you're clearly a man who values his privacy… and does well to cover his tracks. You have talent, and I fancy myself having an eye for such things."
"So, what, you want me to teach instead?" Torchwick drly suggested.
"In a manner of speaking," Ozpin coyly replied. "I do want to employ you, Mr. Torchwick… off the books."
Torchwick finally sat up to meet this man's eye. He'd finally managed to be intriguing.
"I am a firm believer in maintaining order in the kingdom of Vale, but I am not a stickler for rules," Ozpin explained. "I think a certain… unlawful element actually provides stability for the kingdom by creating a different risk condition for its citizens; citizens who might otherwise always devote their attention to the Grimm that control nearly every stretch of land outside our walls. I think the theft of a few rocks pales in comparison to that."
"Oh, are you trying to goad me into admitting something, Professor?" Torchwick asked. "Trying to flatter me into giving you something your friends down the ladder can use?"
"Not at all," Ozpin assured him. "I'm trying to accept the realities of the world we live in. You aren't yet on the scale of -say- the Xiongs and their weapon smuggling, but control over energy is always a better strategy in the long run. Fundamentally, resources are what keep any kingdom running."
"So, why work with me, then?" Torchwick asked. "To ensure you get a cut?"
"Yes," Ozpin flatly replied. "And more than that, to ensure that I have a personal stake in the events that happen to my kingdom by making friends in every walk of life. More than that…"
He seemed to be deep in thought. He paused to drink from a coffee mug before continuing his spiel.
"Do you shadowbox, Mr. Torchwick?" Ozpin asked. "Do you ever spar an invisible enemy?"
Torchwick raised an eyebrow.
"I do quite often, trying to perceive the motions of an enemy who will not let themselves be revealed," Ozpin explained. "And I've found in practice it makes far more sense to create one's enemies than to try and respond to them after they enter the field of battle. Why should the kingdom of Vale allow the Xiongs, or the White Fang, or anyone to control any sliver of the city when they can have a direct line to the man who controls it all?"
Torchwick's guard was up. He knew already it was too good to be true… but what really concerned him was that he hadn't yet found the why this coffee-drinking professor would make such an offer. Even if Torchwick agreed to some generous cut of his illicit gains, it wouldn't come close to offsetting the damage a string of robberies would do.
"What do you get?" Torchwick inquired.
Ozpin smiled. "I'm a man with a great many enemies. I like to think that if I were to pit my enemies against one another… if one eliminated their competition and consolidated control in one place and not another…"
Torchwick was starting to get the picture. Ozpin was playing some politics and didn't want to get his hands dirty. He wanted a patsy. Torchwick had to keep his displeasure carefully hidden, and pretend this offer enticed him.
Though he could indulge his own curiosity as well… "And if I agree to work for you, what then? What do I get?"
"Right now, nothing," Ozpin answered. "But in time, an entire kingdom to rule from below."
Now Torchwick was confused. If Ozpin merely wanted to use him, he'd promise Torchwick the moon. Why would he be honest and offer nothing?
"Walk me through it," Torchwick requested, unable to fight his curiosity. "What are you really after?"
"Only to find an invisible opponent," Ozpin coyly replied.
"Well, hello, gorgeous…" Torchwick greeted. He didn't usually devote so much effort to charming his guests, but for a tall, leggy brunette with some piercing amber eyes and a little red dress, he decided to put in that little extra effort.
She wasn't the first who'd enlisted him to some big score, talking about some grand changes that would affect the entire world or some such grandiose political speech. What separated this woman from the rest trying to bring him into their plans was she brought the money upfront… and she could wear a pair of heels. He wanted to reward her for such a well thought out sales pitch.
She had two cronies with her, but spoke of many more powerful "friends" who'd be getting involved later on. She wanted him to stockpile Dust and store it long-term to destabilize the markets and increase tensions between Atlas and Vale by stealing Schnee Dust after its sale and before its delivery. They'd only blame the thieves for so long before they started pointing fingers at each other. Solid enough logic…
She also requested he bring in any cohorts he liked. It was odd for someone looking to make a profit to have so many fingers in the pie…
And she wanted to join in a raid at one of the local shops? She said it was to get the lay of the land, learn about the kingdom while she started making moves… and now the alarm bells were starting to sound. She'd been pleasant, cordial, respectful -maybe even a little flirty- and he thought it was just a bit too much good fortune at once and was starting to think he'd agreed to something much worse than a few more Dust thefts.
Neo watched the entire meeting from afar, and once his guests had left, she immediately made her displeasure known. Apparently she really didn't like the brunette. Maybe she was jealous to see Roman talking to a beautiful woman without mentioning he already had one of those on hand…
"Trust me, kid, the first rule of this business is to never trust a beautiful woman," Torchwick assured her. When she looked less than amused by his joke, he patted Neo's shoulder and added: "...unless you took the time to get to know her first."
She turned her head, obscuring her face in her long hair. She didn't want him to see her smile. She couldn't even use her Semblance to hide; it hit her too fast.
Torchwick tightened his grip ever so slightly. "I'll work with her because this is big and she's gonna make these moves with whoever she can con into doing her dirty work. If she's planning to move in on us, I'll kill her myself."
Neo seemed pleased with that, turning to look up at him again. When she went for her parasol, Torchwick waved her off. "Nah, kid, I'll hire some of Junior's boys for this one. I don't want her knowing about you- not yet." He crouched down ever so slightly to be at eye level. "You're my ace in the hole. And if this dame's plan doesn't smell right, I'll let you take her out of the picture real quick."
Nothing pleased Neo like getting to kill someone who might've interfered with business. And knowing Roman approved of it only made her happier.
He spent a few minutes more with her, just catching up -not bothering with business, mostly her telling him about her day- before he set off to the club to recruit Junior's men. He waited a few minutes more, once he was out of their hideout, once he was sure she wasn't following.
He hated to deceive her. He hated hiding anything from her, because nothing he had was as valuable as her trust. But he wanted to make sure that she was out of the way. He wanted to make sure his master thought her nothing but a useful subordinate, and not anything more.
Torchwick texted his burner and found a place to wait. He lit up a cigar, swiftly calming the nerves that flared up whenever he had to report in.
Eventually, his master deigned to reply, calling his Scroll. "Mr. Torchwick?"
"There's a new player in town, and she's already making moves," Torchwick told him. "She wants me to hit From Dust Til Dawn tonight and start stockpiling Dust for her. Way she talks, sounds like she wants to set up shop for a while, but she isn't laying down any roots. This is a long term smash and grab."
A long quiet greeted him as Ozpin thought. He heard the professor slurp his coffee on the other end and tried not to be annoyed as he was forced to wait.
"I'll send someone to meet you there," Ozpin replied. "She doesn't play well with others, so you'll have to be… resourceful."
"Oh, again?" Torchwick grumbled. "I swear, sometimes I think you're trying to get me killed."
"It'll suit my purposes just fine if you escape with the Dust," Ozpin dismissively replied. "I just want my agent to have a glimpse at your new friend. Do you think she can be persuaded to intercede…?"
Torchwick took a puff of his cigar.
And another. He was savoring the chance to make Ozpin wait.
"Yeah, I need someone to fly the bird," Torchwick decided. "Tell your 'agent' to try and be non-lethal, huh?"
"Unlike us, Mr. Torchwick, that may be her first instinct," Ozpin assured. "We shall see which tactic your new friend prefers…"
Torchwick was short of breath, even though he did nothing more than sit in the pilot chair and push forward on the yoke of the Bullhead. He was riding the adrenaline high, but was more than a little concerned about what he'd just glimpsed and what the ship's damage report kept reminding him of.
Ozpin's minion was a Huntress. He expected her to be powerful. But his new employer…
Cinder hadn't shown any of these abilities during their meeting or while she waited in the escape craft. She'd been playing the damsel, right up until something truly dangerous showed up, and she swiftly shed the disguise.
There was fire burning in those amber eyes now. There was hatred that turned that pretty face of hers' into something terrifying. "What happened?" she demanded, speaking in a much deeper, raspier tone… her mask had slipped.
"Some kid in the store in a red hood," Torchwick answered, dropping the jokes and just giving her the facts. "She screwed things up for Junior's men. We only got out with a few large crystals… then her Huntress friend showed up right when I was about to drop that little red and give us one less witness. Bad luck all around…"
"I do not believe in luck," Cinder snapped, before looking out the cargo bay door over the city. "This was very disappointing, Roman."
"Setbacks will happen," Torchwick quickly pointed out. "All we need to do is make sure Junior's boys don't spill anything on us."
Cinder considered this. "True… and if we punish them their failure… well there won't be quite so many shares, will there?"
Torchwick didn't usually kill his business partners unless they decided to play ball with the authorities. This woman had come to the decision to do so much quicker than he would have, and just for failing to bring in their share of the loot.
It seemed he knew what her first instinct would be…
Torchwick was starting to feel a little stressed. He'd been running around for weeks scrounging up the Dust with no greater understanding of the plan. And when Cinder's crony got a jab in at his expense, he let slip more than he should in trying to indulge in his curiosity.
"Speaking of which… if you guys wouldn't mind filling me in on your grand master plan, it might actually make my string of robberies go a little smoother."
It was a bit too on-the-nose. It was his frustration boiling over as he tried to give Ozpin some workable lead and understand just why they needed so much Dust when they weren't going to use any of it.
Cinder strode confidently over, speaking in her soft, smooth way. "Oh, Roman, have a little faith…" She pressed a hand against his cheek and held his gaze. "You'll know what you need to know when you need to know it."
He hated her condescension. He knew this voice was a disguise; an attempt to placate him. He knew the softness of her skin and those piercing amber eyes were just tools being used on him.
Even knowing she was cruel, vain, and temperamental… he still had to admit it was working. He went along like her good little lackey.
He wasn't sure what it was. Not only fear, not only lust, certainly not any faith...
Ozpin called it "shadowboxing"... trying to fight something invisible, that may not have been there at all.
Cinder only said they were moving onto phase two. Nothing more than that.
He had nothing to report into Ozpin… and he was starting to think there wasn't any reason to bother. Ozpin was trying to get a read on his new enemy, and every time he was two steps behind. For a smart man not to see the way the wind was blowing…
Torchwick was a gambling man, but he was starting to think he'd been backing the wrong pony. But it seemed he still had time to increase his wager…
When he finally made the call, he took the time to let Ozpin hear him light his cigar first. Ozpin had been so starved for new intel, Torchwick could enjoy making him wait. "They're moving the Dust to Mountain Glenn."
"The White Fang?" Ozpin asked.
Technically... Torchwick thought, before deciding on how to explain it. "They're clearing out some old train tunnels. Maybe they want to make a nice and easy smuggling route."
He knew that wasn't Cinder's plan. He knew the White Fang wouldn't pursue any greater profits than what they needed to wage their little crusade. But as far as Ozpin was aware, they weren't yet planning anything too heinous… still just building their stockpile for events still to come.
The Vytal Festival was less than a week away. Ozpin was no fool -at the very least he knew how to tell time- but maybe Torchwick could delude Ozpin into turning his attention to the simple profit scheme.
"The metro system may still be functional, but I doubt it's about to be repurposed for regular transport," Ozpin observed. "And with as much Dust as you've collected -and what we know of the White Fang- your goals are likely to be… simpler."
Torchwick had a feeling Ozpin would catch on, but he would play the fool a minute longer. "Boss lady hasn't mentioned it to me. But then, she's kept everything pretty close to the vest. None of us have the full picture."
Then again, they didn't bring bombs just to clear out the metro…
"You must do something to stifle her plans," Ozpin instructed. "Mitigate the damage as much as you can."
"Mitigate?" Torchwick briefly paused from his cigar break. "I figured you'd ask me to stop it…"
"Not if I mean to continue to employ you in this," Ozpin pointed out. "You must deliver some success to this woman if you are to remain in her confidence. And I will provide the means to stymie your operation."
"Well, just remember… if you're right," Torchwick began, "Dust can be volatile."
"Fortunately, Mr. Torchwick… that's exactly what I am counting on."
Ozpin turned away from his burner and stepped back out into the entrance hall at Beacon. He perused the various assignment boards, and couldn't help but notice one familiar group of talented first years being frustrated by their inability to join in on a mission in the southeast.
Coincidentally near Mountain Glenn…
"We mail ourselves there!" their enthusiastic team leader optimistically suggested.
Ozpin chuckled. "Well, that's one option…"
Ozpin observed some formalities with his students, but made it very clear he was aware of their intentions… in as obtuse a manner as possible. "I'm still curious how you all found yourselves at the docks last semester. I'm interested to know how you really learned about a hideout in the southeast. And I certainly wonder why witnesses reported seeing robots and rose petals in a dance club some time ago."
Their leader, Ruby Rose, searched for some meaningful reply, but could only manage: "Um...well…"
Ozpin knew what to expect. She was very much like her mother… and just as likely to be of use to him. "I doubt I'll ever find the exact answers I'm looking for… so how about this? Instead of waiting for you all to break the rules, why don't we just bend them?"
Torchwick knew Cinder would be upset by his launching ahead of schedule. But if those brats made any more headway, they might've prevented the train from launching at all. And they had an actual Huntsman with them again… if he, Neo, and the Lieutenant all worked together they might've been able to win that fight, but then the brats would work through the rest of the White Fang and reach the Dust, rendering any victory they achieved moot.
So Torchwick pulled the lever and launched the train, three days ahead of schedule, with fewer explosives, with fewer troops to land, and fewer Grimm gathered overhead to add to the numbers when they breached Vale. They'd still make an impact, but the element of surprise would be lost and the damage would be much easier to contain.
Still, Torchwick sent one final message. Normally Ozpin enjoyed the formality of conversation, but Torchwick was pressed for time and needed to swiftly switch between one Scroll and another while surrounded by the White Fang's new recruits. There was exactly one person he trusted on this train, and she was watching the rear car.
Fortunately, his message to Ozpin was the same one he'd have sent to Cinder: Now.
He waited until he was deeper in the tunnel to try and contact Cinder. Either he'd reach her or she'd know he attempted to reach her. Just to hedge his bets…
"I've been informed that -so far- you've refused to cooperate with the authorities."
The old man with the metal tag on his forehead -General Ironwood, the guy showing off his new Atlesian knight models around town- was right to business. Roman could appreciate that. "I know this might be hard to believe, General... but I'm not the biggest fan of local law enforcement."
"How about the world's strongest military power?" Ironwood asked.
Someone was pretty full of himself, unfortunately without much good reason to be. "First impressions… not great."
He wasn't easily rattled, it seemed. "I'm going to give you one chance. Who's really behind all this?"
The general was in the dark too. He was searching for an edge. Weren't he and Ozpin cooperating in Vale's hosting of the Vytal Festival? It seemed as though Ozpin was just like Cinder in playing this game… or Ironwood was playing it too, and searching for some information to benefit his own station.
"Isn't it obvious?" Torchwick asked, taking a few seconds to read the general's face. He was desperate to know… but focused wholly on his prisoner. He didn't know there were others higher up the chain. Not for certain.
That made the answer an easy one. Torchwick whimsically replied: "You're looking at him."
"Hm," Ironwood considered. "Very well, then."
"What's the matter, General?" Torchwick feigned disappointment when Ironwood walked away from his cell. "I thought you wanted to talk."
"The council's given me custody over you for as long as I see fit," Ironwood informed him. "So you can make yourself comfortable. I can be sure that you'll have plenty of time to talk."
The General activated the holding cell's door. It slid down, leaving Torchwick in the darkness of his tiny chamber again. "Oh, wonderful."
Not wonderful at all. Once again, locked in a cell, but this time with charges that might stick and actual cooperating witnesses. Without some leverage, his situation would seem dire indeed… but he did have leverage, in two different camps.
Now he needed only wait to see who would deliver on their promises. Would Ozpin reward his (mostly) loyal service or was he as essential to Cinder's plans as she'd always professed?
A foot in both camps. Lies and the truth used interchangeably.
Ozpin taught him something useful after all. When fighting an invisible opponent, all one needed to do was watch where they stepped and not get too attached to either side.
Shadowboxing… all you had to do was practice your timing.
But the fight had more than two sides to it now, and little did Torchwick realize… keeping others out of the loop, with lies, truth, or both…
Neo found Cinder, furious at her abandoning Roman -even allowing her flunkies to be the ones to turn him over to Atlas, to maintain their cover- and Cinder found the fourth teammate she needed to place her minions in the Vytal Festival, to guide its outcome to something even more devastating than the Breach would ever have been.
And General Ironwood, frustrated by Roman's outward defiance, took the initiative to search through the arrest record from Torchwick's capture. His determination to find some wrinkle led him to an anomaly… in stripping the criminal of his possessions, his men catalogued two Scrolls on his person during his arrest.
Hardly an uncommon sight for a criminal, but Ironwood was determined to follow his curiosity, and using his authority as head of security he requested the records from the CCT tower and found only one point of contact from the second Scroll.
Only one.
Ironwood turned his eye to Beacon tower. No doubt Ozpin was in his office, looking down on Vale from on high, just as Ironwood looked down on his mentor -his friend- and tried to understand…
...why would Professor Ozpin be talking to a man like Roman Torchwick?
