Between the Shadows
By: Ethereal Fury
Chapter Ten: Déjà vu
Zephyr stepped cautiously through the door into the candle-lit narrow room presided by the lengthy oak table and quickly scanned the room. He spotted two heavily-armed guards beside him by the doors, four behind the Boss, the two that had escorted him a few steps ahead, and a few others stationed against the wall around the table's perimeter, half-hidden in the flickering shadows of the candlelight, the blackness of their uniform blending in with the darkness. They appeared almost invisible, and if Zephyr had not been trained to spot the minutest detail, he would have easily overlooked them. Any chance of escape, even with the eight-millimeter gun he carried strapped to his boot, was impossible. He was in too deep to even dare consider getting out. I wouldn't want out anyway; I gotta help Storm, he thought, shifting his weight and waiting for the Boss to summon him forth.
The Boss sat at his usual place upon the high-backed black leather chair at the head of the table, customary cigarette in his pale and wrinkled hand, currently conversing with the man Zephyr guessed to be the commander-in-chief of the operation. Almost involuntarily, Zephyr's gaze was drawn to the Boss' face in a repulsively intriguing fixation, tracing each scar and each burn with his eyes. For the first time, he noticed that there was something vaguely familiar about him too; something in the way he held himself even in that chair and more importantly in the way that intense crimson eye had fixed itself on Zephyr although its owner's head was turned to the left in conversation with the commander-in-chief.
Narrowing his eyes, Zephyr shockingly realized that the Boss' solitary eye was not actually red; rather, it was a dark and intense shade of blue not unlike his own upon which the red glare of the candles' leaping flames were reflected. Staring at the hypnotic dancing flames in the Boss' eye, Zephyr felt an unsettling and eerie feeling of recognition spreading within him. He knew that man; he'd seen that intense gaze many a time before… but just who he was eluded him. He shut his eyes to shield himself from the eye's penetrating gaze and cursed himself inwardly for not being able to remember.
Great Leonstrife. First that old geezer at the shop rings a bell and now the man that's hired you to kill the President of your country seems familiar. You're hallucinating, seriously… or you have one hell of a screwed up past. You should definitely lay off whatever the hell it is that you're on, pot, crack, whatever… or you're gonna start seeing your dead father or something, he chided inwardly. He couldn't help but let out a soft sarcastic chuckle—yeah, his dead father, now that would be funny.
Shaking his head to clear it, Zephyr reopened his eyes and again found the Boss' eye boring into his own, as if willing him to remember something he couldn't. With an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders, her approached the table and decided to break the unnerving silence. The Boss had long stopped conversing with the other man and had had his full attention focused on the youth before him for a while. Zephyr cleared his throat.
"Um… sir, I have the photographs of the documents upon President Jecht's desk the night of the reception, as well as the files on his computer about the Zanark-Aerith treaty you spoke of," he began. He unzipped his black jacket and from an inner pocket extracted a white envelope, which he handed to one of the men beside him who carried it to the head of the table and handed it to the Boss.
His eye never leaving Zephyr's, the Boss took the envelope and settled it in front of him on the table, nodding in approval. "Very well done boy. You prove worthy to the reputation that precedes you. You should be proud; with this information, this mission is on its way to a successful accomplishment. Finally, Aerith will no longer live in the shadow of Zanark and that fool Jecht will no longer be the most powerful man alive," he stated in his chilling gravelly voice.
Zephyr narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The Boss was not checking the contents of the envelope—either he was a trusting idiot or he had something up his sleeve. With all that was at stake here, Zephyr was sure the man could not afford to be double-crossed, so why wasn't he inspecting his findings? He wouldn't be so calm and collected unless he had an alternative course of action. Perhaps he doubted Zephyr's devotion to the mission—he was in it solely for the money after all—and had ulterior arrangements. But that made no sense at all— Zephyr was being paid an exorbitant sum of money; it was highly unlikely they could afford to hire anyone else. In the twenty years that the Akademy had been training and dispatching members of ZEG, never had a single assignment yielded such a lucrative amount, not even when teams of more than a dozen had been dispatched. There was something sneaky definitely going on; when one's hopes of success rested solely on the shoulders of one individual, one wasn't so nonchalant.
As if reading Zephyr's mind, the Boss smiled broadly, showing his cracked and missing teeth and bluish gums. He petted the thick envelope on the table in front of him almost lovingly, as if it were an animal. "Of course, if what you have told us is not found in this envelope, your younger sister will face the consequences," he said calmly, tracing the emblem of the Akademy on the envelope with his finger.
Zephyr's eyes widened in shock. "How…?" he exclaimed in surprise, before realizing he had spoken aloud and clamping his mouth shut.
The man smiled at Zephyr even more broadly. On anyone else, the smile would have been beatific, but on this man it was pure evil. Dimples appeared on the man's deformed and scarred cheeks as his smile widened into a low, rumbling laugh which again sent tingles of recognition down Zephyr's spine. "Zephyr, my boy, I know so much more about you than you do yourself. I've been keeping my eye on you since you were a tumbling toddler, and especially after you ran away from home when you were eleven and joined the Akademy," he explained, an amused expression in his eye.
Zephyr took a step back in surprise. How did this man know so much about him? No one, not even his fellow classmates at the Akademy knew anything about him or his past, yet this man knew of his sister and of his disappearance from home. It was impossible for anyone to know; all the neighbors they'd had back at home were now dead, and Storm wouldn't breathe a word of his whereabouts.
The Boss was chuckling again at the stunned look on the usually unemotional youth. "Yes, I know about that too, don't be so surprised. I knew one day you would prove very valuable to us. You were meant for greater things than just being another member of ZEG; you deserve to make history. And with this assassination, you will; no we will. The almighty Zanark, the most powerful nation in all of Terra, brought crashing down from its pedestal of greatness by a small Aerian resistance group. The sheer irony of it all." He paused and nodded his head with a half smile, fixing his lone eye on Zephyr, studying him. His eye glazed over in a dreamy state of reminiscence and he murmured softly, almost to himself, "Eight years. It's been eight years. You've grown so much…"
The thunderous noise of a wooden chair hitting the floor reverberated through the narrow room as Zephyr took another backward step and stumbled into a chair, sending it crashing to the floor. Whoa…déjà vu. Headmaster Rayn said something like that earlier, about me being meant for more than just mere ZEG recruitment… what is up with these people and destiny? What do they know about what I was or wasn't meant to be? I make my own destiny, and no one else, he thought vehemently.
The sharp sound brought the Boss out of his reverie and snapped him to attention. Shaking his head to clear it, he addressed Zephyr again. "If there is nothing else you would like to discuss, you are dismissed until further notice. Keep a low profile for this week leading up to the President's public address; we don't want you drawing too much attention to yourself. Go about your normal Akademy tasks and breathe not a word of your mission to anyone. It is fully in your hands to get the job done come the designated day; how you do it is none of our concern as long as it is done. The President must be assassinated at all costs; fail or doublecross us and you will never see your sister, or any of your pay, again. Succeed and you will both live, and we will provide a safe way out of Zion for you both. You will likely be called upon in three days for an update on your plan; feel free to collect more information in that interval but do not do anything stupid. Dismissed."
Zephyr gathered himself up again and saluted him. "Yes sir," he replied formally.
The Boss gave him a nod and snapped his fingers. Immediately, one of the guards half-hidden by the shadows of the walls appeared beside Zephyr and signaled him to follow. Zephyr nodded and turned to follow the man towards the door. The Boss pointed at another guard and he came up to the head of the table and flipped through the contents of the envelope.
"All good sir," the guard stated, placing the pictures back in the envelope and handing it to the Boss.
He took it and fixed his gaze on Zephyr's retreating form once more. Before he walked out the door, he turned once more to the Boss and asked, "Sir, why did you call the Akademy today and told them of your plans?"
The Boss' sole eye narrowed dangerously. "Where did you hear such nonsense, boy?" he queried gruffly.
"I have my sources, none of which you would know. There are things about me you don't know. Why do it then tell me to keep a low profile?" Zephyr countered, answering the question with a question of his own.
"That is none of your concern. You are here to assassinate the President and get your paycheck, nothing more, nothing less. You are in no position to question what we do, for you know not of the situation. And don't go around snooping or you will not see your sister again. Now, dismissed," he replied, finality evident in his voice.
Zephyr didn't budge. He wasn't leaving until he got answers; their actions became his concern when they could land him in trouble. "That stunt you pulled could very well mean the mission is over. They're gonna have ZEG dispatched all over the place the day of the speech now… what the hell do you expect me to do?" he demanded angrily.
The Boss narrowed his eye again… feisty insolent youth with no respect for authority. He would teach him. With a subtle hand signal, Zephyr suddenly found himself surrounded by four guards with their guns drawn. "You will find your way around that simple problem yourself. I'm assured you're the Akademy's finest; I'm sure a few men standing in your way will only make things more fun. This mission is not in peril, and it will be completed regardless what. Now, would you care to leave by yourself, or shall I have these nice men escort you out?" he stated icily. There was no room for arguments this time, and Zephyr was not about to find out how far the man could be pushed.
With another formal salute, Zephyr replied with some sarcasm, "My apologies, sir. I believe I can find my own way back, thanks for the kind offer of the escort though."
The Boss nodded once more and signaled his men to back away, except for one of the men that had escorted Zephyr in; he would escort the youth out. With a shrug, Zephyr turned on his heel and took off after the man. It was almost unnoticeable in the darkness of the room, but there was a look of nostalgic regret on the Boss' burnt and scarred face, his expression softened slightly by a tender smile as he watched Zephyr disappear out the wooden door.