A/N: People can't die in pg13's, at least not in horrible ways. (hint hint)
Chapter 11 – Home to a bullet
"Good morning," Rinoa said briskly. Behind her was a selection of folding chairs, and Rinoa took one and sat down upon it.
"You look just as I'd imagined," he said, smiling.
Quikstine was a small man, with greying hair and a gentlemanly smile. Rinoa thought he might be rather nice looking if he wasn't dressed in white and under such a glaring bright light.
"I have some questions I'd like to get started on," Rinoa said, opening her bag and pulling out a pad of paper.
Quikstine shook his head and walked to the back of his cell and sat down on the floor. He began to hum a tune that dipped and rose in volume. Rinoa waited for him to stop, but after ten minutes of the relentless noise Rinoa began to get annoyed.
"Look. I don't care if you talk to me or not. It makes little difference anyway. I'm getting paid whether you answer my questions or if we just sit here."
Quikstine stopped making his noise and looked up, a grin fixed on his face. He stepped up to the bars and looked her over.
"My, what a cynical outlook on life you have, Miss Heartilly. You should lighten up."
"Are you going to answer my questions or not?" Rinoa snapped.
"No. But you can answer one of mine."
Rinoa shuffled in her chair, her instinct was to move far away, but she wouldn't let him see that she was afraid.
"That is not the purpose of this interview," she said carefully.
"Ah, but one should always know one's enemy," he said, a slight twinkling in his eye that made Rinoa shiver.
"What is it you want to ask?" Rinoa said, thinking it was best to get it over with.
"Hmm..." he mused, pretending to be thinking. "Young Mister Leonhart and yourself must be very close. I've read about it in the papers. They let me have the paper when I've been good," he added with a touch of pride.
"Why do you care about that?" Rinoa asked, annoyed.
"Oh, no reason, just this: does Mister Leonhart still have the mark?"
"Mark? What mark?" Rinoa asked, losing her patience.
"Dear, dear Rinoa, must I be more specific?" he asked in a sing-song voice. "Surely in the long time you have known one another you must have visited the bedroom." Rinoa frowned.
"This is getting too far away from the subject. Mister Quikstine, I will ask my questions now. In..."
"One his side...a sort of bullet wound..."
Rinoa gasped and pushed her chair backwards so it scraped along the floor.
"You, you shot him!" Rinoa stuttered.
Quikstine laughed a cruel, hollow laugh.
"I shot many," he said, smiling. "Leonhart was the only one that didn't die. Oh, didn't he tell you? Maybe he doesn't trust you--his journalist girlfriend. How could he ever trust you with anything? A career girl like yourself, you'd write a feature about it. Selfish woman."
Rinoa let the words wash over her.
"Why?"
"Why? All those foolish young boys, believing in loyalty, peace, happiness, I wanted to show them that there was never going to be any of that for them. They were SeeDs, soldiers, robots, trained only to kill. I had to break their dreams; they didn't deserve such illusions. They're monsters."
Rinoa startled at his warped imagination. How could someone believe something like that?
"Why are you telling me this?" Rinoa questioned.
"Because you've chosen me over him, thank you."
"What are you talking about?" Rinoa asked raising an eyebrow.
"Remember all those times you got so close to finding out what happened to him while he was a SeeD? You remember all those questions that he'd never answer? It was I. I shot him! I shot them all! Only little Leonhart managed to get away."
"No," Rinoa screamed, standing up.
"Sit down, you silly little girl. All you writers are pathetic, standing up for truth and freedom. Haven't you ever realized that there is none to be had?"
"Why are you telling me this? Why me? You wouldn't speak to anybody before now. I know, I read everything in your file. Everything! Don't you talk to me about being pathetic; I'm not the one in a cell," Rinoa snapped.
"Calm down," he said, walking towards the bars. "Do you want to know why I'm telling you?" he asked in a musical voice, as if the words were the puppets for Rinoa's amusement. He was taunting her and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Yes," Rinoa whispered.
"I've been down here for many years, Miss Heartilly, and this has been my first chance to gloat," he said, a demonic smile spreading over his face. He stared at her for a second then burst into a mechanical stream of laughter. Rinoa felt herself begin to shake. She couldn't take this anymore. But before she could reach for her bag, he sensed what she was about to do. "No, no, Miss Heartilly, don't you think about running away now."
"You have nothing of value to say to me. I am leaving now, and I am sorry that I ever came here." Rinoa reached for her bag and held the Dictaphone in a shaking hand. She looked at it and debated whether to switch it off.
"My, my, what do we have here?" Quikstine asked, looking at the device. Rinoa made the mistake of looking up into his eyes.
"A Dictaphone." She answered simply.
He grinned.
"Well, in that case, I will tell you something that you can treasure forever," he said, clearly enjoying the moment of suspense. Rinoa quickly considered running away, but in the end stood her ground. "He got away once, but today he won't be so lucky."
"What?" Rinoa whispered, not daring to breathe lest she miss something.
"He will die today, and not you or anybody else can stop it."
"What do you mean? Who will die? Tell me now!" Rinoa demanded, her anger overpowering her fear.
Quikstine jumped up and down and ran to the back of the cell. He turned around sharply and ran towards the bars, banging his hands on the cold metal. He hissed at her.
"DID YOU REALLY THINK I'D LET HIM GET AWAY WITH IT? DID HE REALLY THINK HE'D ESCAPED ME?" he screamed. Taking a deep breath and watching Rinoa's horrified face, he continued, "No. Now he and his whole family will die! They will arrive back in Esthar to a bullet."
"Squall," Rinoa let his name fall from her lips as she gasped. "When? How?" She screamed, banging her own hands on the bars. Quikstine filled the air with a piercing screech.
"Five minutes. There are more than bats in the belfry, in the belfry, in the belfry!"
Rinoa grabbed her bag and ran back up the corridor, leaving her notes scattered all over the floor.
"Squall, please answer!" She screamed into her phone as she ran up the stairs and into the maze of corridors. "Oh Hyne, which way?"
Finally she made her way outside, passed a very confused secretary and out into the street. There was no answer from Squall's phone and she quickly dialled for the local police. Her head was spinning as she waited for an answer; she wasn't supposed to be doing this. Things like this happened to other people, not to her.
"Hello. Deling City Police Station."
"Oh, quick! I've been tipped off about an assignation attempt that is about to happen against President Loire and his family," Rinoa said in a rush. There was a stunned silence on the end of the line.
"I'll...I'll connect you."
Rinoa looked at her watch and panicked, she'd already run out of time.
"Oh, come on, come on," she whispered, almost fainting. Her heart was hammering, and she'd forgotten to breathe long ago. A combination of both of these brought forward the black spots that covered her vision. The sound of a man's deep voice brought Rinoa back.
"Security."
"Assination attack...belfy....President...Squall." Rinoa gasped after each word. She must have sounded genuine enough as on the other line orders were being shouted and there was a great deal of panic. Finally his voice came back to her.
"Your name, please?" he asked urgently. Rinoa willed herself to speak, although she felt as if she opened her mouth she might be sick.
"Rinoa Heartilly. Journalist," she added to show that, she wasn't just Miss Nobody from Nowhere.
"Where is your location?" he asked.
"Deling City. Outside the city asylum," Rinoa said in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Make your way to the airstrip," he ordered. "Someone will fly you here." He hung up.
Rinoa didn't allow herself to think, instead she called straight away for a taxi and got herself to the airstrip as instructed. A man was waiting for Rinoa as she climbed out of the car. He waved at her urgently.
"Hurry please, Miss," he called. Rinoa didn't need to be called twice. She ran over the field towards him, not caring how much mud she picked up on her shoes as she went. "I am instructed to fly you straight to Esthar. Your name is Heartilly, correct?"
"Yes," Rinoa replied breathlessly.
"Jump in. The flight will take two hours in this baby," he said, starting the engine. Rinoa closed her eyes as they took off at what Rinoa thought was a tremendous speed.
Two minutes into the flight, the pilot switched on a two-way radio. There was a crackling noise.
"I have Heartilly, over," he said, tapping some buttons.
"Good work, over."
"Report? Over."
"Nothing yet...."
The next few seconds were filled with distant screams and the before calm voice suddenly admitted a string of curses before being replaced with a fuzzy noise.
"What's going on?" Rinoa asked, urgently grabbing his shoulder.
"I...I don't know," he stammered.
Rinoa felt herself fill with tears. It was too late, she was too late. What was she going back too?
A/N: Don't panic! The next chapter has already been written, and will be up very soon. Sorry about the delay for this chapter, I left it in a really horrible place last time...
As always, thank you so much to all of you who took the time to review.
omnitoad, Mariko, remote mine, Karla3, Chrono-Maku, Kriger, The Angel of the Lion, FFgal, Archangel_6 6 6, eiggem3, Rinoa Heartilly-Leonhart, Lady Yevon.