Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII so please do not sue my ass because it's not like I have money anyways.
Chapter Nineteen
They had quietly and stealthily left the Presidential Palace leaving the bodies to be discovered by the very reason of their problems … the government, Ackroyde, whoever came along first it didn't matter.
"Let's head straight back to my father's …" Rinoa had proposed but Squall had shook his head in disagreement.
"We need to head back home first." Squall stated, "If he's still there, all the better … it'll give me a chance to kill him." Ignoring Rinoa's pleas to head back to the Caraway mansion, the couple ended up walking down the familiar street.
They entered their residence with caution, pistols aimed for anything that moved. Squall hesitantly turned on the light, slightly fearing what he might see. Yet he had no reason to fear since everything was in place, nothing had been broken or ripped.
"Maybe we should pack some clothing?" Squall whispered as though not to wake the imaginary ghost that haunted the house.
"Yeah … ok …" Rinoa replied shakily, her eyes darting back and forth, surveying the room, listening for any abnormal sounds.
"The documents from the agency … they're in the office, right?" He asked her, trying to ignore her nervous behavior.
"Yeah … I think." She replied, clinging onto his arm in fear that something may jump out from the walls, terminating her and her husband's life.
"For Hyne's sake, Rin …" Squall hissed and moved forth through the house, climbing the stairs to the second floor. "You're starting to make me edgy." She followed anxiously behind him.
"Check in Alessandro's room to see if he's still unconscious." Rinoa said quickly, pointing at her son's bedroom.
Squall nodded confidently as he entered Alex's room, his eyes scanning what was once a battlefield. He saw holes in the walls that were undoubtedly caused by fists, and the smaller ones by bullets. He looked at the bloodstained baseball bat and his eyebrow arched, "With a bat, Rin?"
"Why don't you shut the fuck up because it sure as hell wasn't funny at the time." She snapped back at him, "Is he gone?"
"I don't know if he's gone … he may still be in the house." He answered her, smiling slightly, knowing the effect that would have on his spouse. The look of pure horror made him reconsider his answer slightly, "Don't worry, don't worry …" He pointed to marks on the carpeted floor that indicated pressure of battle boots, "He left. See? Footprints."
"Footprints, but to where?" Rinoa hissed.
"Down the stairs. Through the living room and out the front door." Squall answered lamely, "You've really lost everything the agency has taught you. For one thing, when you enter an area, you look around … not at the walls … at the floor."
"I haven't lost everything they've taught me … I still know how to kill." She snapped threateningly at him.
"Alright, alright … I'm sorry." Squall answered sincerely, reaching for his wife's hand and holding it gently, "Let's go get the documents and some clothes."
She silently accepted his apology and followed him slowly into their bedroom. Squall got a small duffel bag from the closet and began throwing in random articles of clothing, "You'd think we're going on a vacation." His tone was cynical, the joke nearly unrecognizable.
Rinoa had disappeared to the bathroom, trying to swallow the childish urge to burst into tears of despair; she grabbed the two toothbrushes that were installed at the sink and the tube of toothpaste as well. She fumbled for a hairbrush from the drawer and went back into the bedroom to deposit the hygienic items on the bed.
"You going to get the kids' stuff?" Squall asked, whilst expertly packing. Besides enduring training and efficient murder strategies the agency had taught each and every agent how to pack and conserve as much space in the bag as possible.
"Yeah …" She said weakly, leaving the room. She left her bedroom silently, creeping out into the hallway of her own house. Her stomach was giving nervous tugs, her arms filled with goosebumps that were the results from shivers running down the entire length of her body. She watched every moving shadow making sure she was its creator.
She entered the spare bedroom and flicked on the light instantly. She collected the toothbrushes, the bubblegum flavored toothpaste and a bar of soap (just in case). Normally, she wouldn't have painstakingly thought of all these things. As an agent, she only packed with necessities. However, becoming a mother had the typical effect of wanting to pack everything plus the kitchen sink.
She had to mentally restrain herself from grabbing Riana's comforter, just in case, when she entered her young daughter's room. Instead she went for the drawers, grabbing every article of clothing that seemed necessary. She repeated the process in her son's room and shuffled back to her room where she deposited the armful of clothes on the bed.
Her husband looked at her in disbelief, "Do you know the meaning of traveling light?" He asked, eyeing the drawers of clothes.
"Squall, I never want to come back here again." She answered him, "Everything that gets left behind stays behind, ok?"
"Ok … alright." He nodded, "So how about our clothes?"
"What about them? We're obviously bringing some." She replied, almost in a snap. She was nervous, he could tell. The long, unsettled fear had been stirred deeply within her.
***
"Man, this is giving me the creeps." Zell's quivering voice broke the uneasy silence.
"Shut up." Caraway replied gruffly, his pistol aimed at the door. The habitants of the Caraway mansion had heard unfamiliar noises coming from the garage and they did not know what it was.
Rinoa and Squall held their position, near the garage doorway. They listened for sounds that would help them indicate what was going on inside the house. Nothing was to be heard. You could almost bargain that the people who were supposed to be in the house were dead. The thought sent shivers running down Rinoa's spine.
"Why'd you think it's so quiet?" Squall asked in a hushed voice, "Maybe they went upstairs or something?"
"Maybe they decided to move to Esthar for all I know." Rinoa replied sardonically though she wished it wasn't the case. The desire to see her kids again was threatening to take over and, foe present or not, she'd burst out of the garage yelling her head off.
Squall held her back, knowing very well of her indifference of safety at this instant in time, "Is there a reason you're being such a bitch at the moment?"
And the never-ending battle ensued once more, "Why yes, as a matter a fact there is! The threat on my children's life this evening is part of the cause and seeing someone decapitated by a train does get to your nerves!" She had lost her hushed voice.
"Like I said I was doing perfectly fine without your help." Squall replied calmly however he had also thrown the whispering out the window.
"Bullshit! If you hadn't left the house in the first place you wouldn't have gotten yourself into the sticky situation, sonofabitch!" Rinoa retorted, anger engulfing her entirely.
"You are the one who kicked me out!" A loud gunshot interrupted all further arguments that he had planned on unleashing. He saw his wife's mouth about to scream at the top of her lungs but clasped a hand to her mouth muffling the cry of terror.
"Ok, I guess if I was dead I wouldn't have heard you!" Caraway roared and the garage door leading into the entryway of the mansion swung open, the barrel of his pistol fuming slightly. Squall's eyes trailed and lingered at the bullet hole in the ceiling.
His train of thoughts that consisted mostly of 'The old man's off his rocker.' Were interrupted by a set of healthy teeth sinking deeply into his hand. It was then he remembered (painfully) that he was still covering Rinoa's mouth. He jerked away, "What the Hell, what is your problem?" His palm was slightly numb.
"Man, I take back anything I said about wanting to work with your wife." Zell whistled at Squall. Rinoa's eyes flared.
"What's that supposed to mean, you freaking shitface?" And in an instant her fist had slammed on his right cheekbone. He howled in pain and backed into a wall where he squirmed and complained a bit more.
"For crying out loud will you stop injuring my employees?" Caraway yelled at his daughter.
In return she gave him the finger and her father just stared, shocked at her behavior, "No I won't."
"Rhetorical question." Caraway growled, "And you best learn your manners, Rinoa, because you're life and that of your entire family hangs with one, little thread." She remained silent however glared at her father, hating the truth behind his words.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Squall yelled out suddenly, "What the fuck is he doing here?" He pointed at Zell, remembering the familiar face from his last mission for the agency.
"You called me a traitor … and you were right." Zell said, massaging his cheek, wincing at the pain, "I'm a traitor to save your ugly ass from the only thing that hasn't stopped trying to kill you for seven years now."
"What do you mean seven years? And what 'thing'?" Squall snapped, losing patience, "And who's ass are you talking about here? His?" He pointed at Caraway.
"Oh shut your stupid mouth, Leonheart." Caraway spat venomously at his son-in-law, "Let's go end this in the basement. Agents will not retard to perform a search here … but they won't find us downstairs."
Sabam: Another chapter completed. Well, that's done and over with. I'm really sorry if I bored you out of your minds with this one. Actually, I've probably done that with the last few as well, huh? Anyone else getting the impression they're about nothing? Well, the storyline shall unfold soon, once again I'm sorry. Please don't keep that from reviewing, I desperately need feedback. If only a few people are actually interested in this story than maybe I won't bother to end it.