Chapter 3: Search
Vincent looked over at Tifa who was looking out the window as they drove down the highway. They were heading for the more junkyard area of MA. Full of smiths, but they were going to the best. He had names, numbers, and could make anything out of steel.
Tifa found herself looking at Vincent again. He was serious and obviously had no awards for being a conversationalist. So she decided to be the 'blabber mouth' and get him talking.
Tifa] Are you married?
Vincent] Hehe, no, I came close once. But found out she liked women more than men.
Tifa] Oh god, sorry I asked.
Vincent] No it's ok, we all have a right to ask questions. Hell, I even do it sometimes.
He winked and smiled a bit.
Tifa] No wife, no kids, man your boring.
She nudged him.
Vincent] Maybe in that category, but I'm a damn good cook. My father who was Italian insisted that I learn only Italian dishes
Tifa] Really? Well my dad insisted that I learn to be tough, and memorize how to disassemble and reassemble guns Hehehe.
Vincent] What about your mom?
Tifa] She died, cancer gripped her lungs and we lost her. That was 10 years ago and I still remember her.
Vincent] That's sad…
Tifa] Yeah… and your mom?
Vincent] I don't know, I never knew my real mother or father. See, the dad I told you about was a man who found me on his doorstep one day. He's a great guy. And even now being in the FBI and everything, I have had no luck finding them.
Tifa] Perhaps they do not wish to be found… maybe they were spies for a foreign takeover that fell in love.
Vincent] Hahaha, I like your imagination Tifa. Sadly we need to discuss our upcoming move.
Tifa] Right, so we have Donald, the smith. I say we bust in and demand an answer. He's a little weasel anyway, and he'd sell his own mother if the price was right.
Vincent] On any other terms I'd go with your plan but we would need a warrant. So unfortunately he can't make him answer any questions without getting into legal trouble.
Tifa] Afraid of trouble, Agent Valentine? You know, not all trouble is bad, MWAHAHA.
He smiled for real this time, for some reason he really liked being around her.
Vincent] Here we are, Donald's Dump. Cute name huh?
Tifa] Yeah, cute like Cloud's hairstyle.
She chambered a bullet and hid her sidearm away. Vincent did the same.
Good lord, what was that?
Vincent] Hehehe, my P-715 automatic.
Tifa] Those are illegal you know.
Vincent] Afraid of a trouble Officer Lockhart?
Tifa] Touché' Mr. Valentine hehe.
They got out and headed to the small building in the middle of the heaping piles of rusty cars, and anything with steel in or on it. Tifa knocked, the echoing sound was followed by a large dog barking through the door. Finally the barking subsided and a man spoke through the door.
Donald] Who the hell is there?
He sounded seriously hung over, and Tifa could already smell the whiskey on his breathe.
Tifa] Police, open up Donald.
Donald] Ok ok, hold on a goddamn minute.
The door opened and a women walked past them, he dress unzipped in the back. She obviously threw the thing on.
Vincent] Wonderful… Mr. Richardson, I'm Special Agent valentine with the FBI. And this is Lt. Tifa Lockhart with the MAPD. We would like to ask you a few questions if it's alright.
Donald rubbed his eyes and scratched his large stomach.
Donald] Sure, come on in.
He moved and they entered. Donald closed the door and led them to the living room. It was old, but comfortable.
Donald] So, what can I do for ya?
They sat.
Vincent] Well we have a few questions. To start out with, do you manufacture blades anymore?
Donald] Not since… 85 I think it was. I just watch after this useless junkyard.
Tifa] Do you keep records of the blades you sold?
Donald] Yes I did, they had to sign a BB, or blade book to you folks. It was a thing back in 85, they issued a license for people to carry knives. Stupid, I know.
Vincent] Could we maybe have them?
Donald] All of them?!
Tifa] Yeah, if that's not a problem.
Donald] Listen honey, us men folk have to work a lot. I'm tired, and there are thousands of files.
Tifa] Don't you honey me you inbred hung over moron. Go in there and get the fucking files, or that limp noodle of yours can kiss its sorry ass goodbye.
Donald looked in pure shock, he slowly stood and got the files.
Later Vincent and Tifa were back on the highway heading for his apartment. They decided to get pizza and look through the files. Tifa knew it was going to be a long night, so when they stopped at the gas station she made sure to get coffee mate, and aspirin.
They were almost to his apartment when he turned to her.
Vincent] Your ok with this right?
Tifa] Of course, why wouldn't I be?
Vincent] No reason, just some women would take this the wrong way is all.
Tifa leaned over.
Tifa] I'm not like other women.
He smiled.
Vincent] I'll say.