24
"Oi, Wings," Red called from his room. The door was open, so it was safe to enter. Archangel poked his head in to see Schwarz curled up with her head resting on Red's shoulder, fast asleep. Red himself looked pretty sleepy, but he had a diskette in one hand. "Listen, Wings, can y' do me a favour?"
"It would depend on the favour, Poitin-san," he answered. Red nodded. "I need ya t' take this t' Merv."
Archangel gave him a Look, and the Irishman sighed. "I never realised 'e hated me this much, Wings. T' take Sasha an' hurt 'er like that… it can't go on. This jus' had my peace terms on it; I need ya t' deliver it f'r me."
"All right," Archangel agreed after a moment, reaching out and taking the disk. "Thanks, lad," Red grinned, before sliding his arm around Sasha and sliding down, himself going to sleep. Archangel rolled his eyes before going to hunt down his captain.
"Lookin' for somethin'?" Poni asked as he passed her.
"Epona-san… this is going to seem an odd request…."
"What now?"
"I need to enter the Matrix and return to the Merovingian's château."
"...you have got to be kiddin."
"Iie, Epona-san. Poitin-san asked it of me."
"Why in blazes?"
"He is frightened, Epona-san. He nearly lost Schwarz-san because of something foolish he did when he was younger than I. He's trying to prevent such a thing from happening again."
"I understand that, but goin to th' belly of the beast?"
"It is the best way, and Poitin-san does not wish to risk you or Pyre-chan."
"I'm not sendin' you in there alone."
"Hai, Epona-san."
"Pyre'll go with you... I'll watch, just in case."
He nodded consent, sliding the chip into his pocket. "Where is Pyre-chan?"
"Trainin'."
He nodded and headed down to the broadcast port. "Salvo-san… Pyre-chan and I are being sent on a small miss… hello, Saikuron-san." The black man waved at him. "Kid, if ya can't pronounce it, just call me Cy," he grinned.
"Mission where?" Salvo asked.
"Mount Shasta."
"Why you going back to that place?" Salvo asked questioningly.
Cyclone gave him an appraising look. "I know why. Has to do with Red and that job he pulled six years ago, huh?" Archangel nodded. "Alright... just a sec. I'll send Pyre straight from her program to the construct." Salvo replied, typing rapidly.
Archangel nodded, climbing into one of the chairs. Cyclone helped jack him in, but mostly stayed out of Salvo's way, polite Operator that he was.
The construct loaded in front of his eyes. Pyre was waiting, a bruise on her forehead. "Pyre-chan," he greeted her. "Angel." She grumbled, holding her head. "What's the mission?" He showed her the disk. "Give this to the Merovingian and leave."
"And I'm not a little girl."
"Hai, Pyre-san."
"That's better." She grabbed her sawed off shotgun and a couple pistols. "I'm ready."
As usual, he selected only bladed weapons, though now that stealth was not an issue he took up a naginata. "As am I."
She pulled out her cell and gave Salvo a call. "We're ready."
"As close to the Merovingian as you can, Salvo-san," Archangel called. "I do not wish to fly again."
"Fly?" Pyre gave him an odd look.
"In a jet, Pyre-san. Only the One is able to truly fly."
"Riiiiight." Pyre rolled her eyes. Archangel allowed himself a small smile as they hacked into the Matrix. "Shall we, Pyre-san?"
"As long as we don't get too close to that French pervert." Pyre mumbled.
Archangel quickly found his bearings and led her to a tall building. "This is where his restaurant is… you will find that it is a very different place from Club Hell." "Just because a place seems nicer in appearance, doesn't mean the people are any better." Pyre stepped forward into the building. "At least Club Hell's honest."
"You have a point… floor 101."
She hit the button on the elevator. "You think this mission'll be that hard?"
"Where the Merovingian is concerned… who can tell?"
"You have a point... at least you know agents are trying to kill you."
"Pyre-san, are you always this cynical?"
"Nope." The elevator dinged as they reached the 101st floor. "Sometimes I'm even worse."
"I wonder how long it will be before you try to kill Poitin-san."
"Why?"
"Because the two of you are alike in that you are opposites."
Pyre stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway outside the restaurant. "I'll keep that in mind." Archangel strode to stay abreast of her, curious as to how this meeting would go as well as how well he could work with the beautiful woman.
"Oui, je peux vous aider?" the man at the front asked.
"We are here to speak with the Merovingian," Archangel answered. The man gave him an odd look. "This way."
"Looks like he was got off guard." Pyre smirked as the man led the two rebels through the doors and to the table at the end of the restaurant's massive room. The Merovingian had a startled expression on his face, but quickly regained his composure.
"A nice change, wouldn't you agree?" Archangel replied, gulping as he saw Persephone. "To what do I owe ze pleasure, Archangel and new girl?" the Merovingian asked as they approached, motioning them to sit.
"We're here with a message," Archangel answered.
"And zat is?"
Archangel pulled the disk out of his jacket. "I don't know. Poitin-san asked me to deliver this to you."
"And what is on zis... disk?"
"Again, I do not know. He did not tell me."
"Very well... I will 'ave zis checked. Would you two like to join Persephone and myself for some wine at the Château while we wait?"
Archangel looked at Pyre. He expected that a man like the Merovingian might have some sake, but he wasn't sure if going there was a good idea. Pyre looked back at Archangel and shrugged, also unsure. "We have your word we will leave alive and intact?" Archangel asked.
"But of course," he replied. "I would never harm my guests."
Archangel at last nodded. "All right." Pyre still looked mistrusting. Frankly, Archangel felt the same way. However, he was curious about that disk. The Merovingian rose, holding out his hand for Persephone. She rose gracefully, taking his hand and not sparing Archangel even a glance. Archangel rose also, casting a wary eye towards the Merovingian's bodyguards. Pyre rose last, hand still in her jacket for any sign of betrayal. Then, the Frenchman led all of them out, towards the door to the kitchen.
Archangel winced; he had not grown a fondness for travelling by key.
The Merovingian opened the door and led them through the front room, off to his main parlour. In the process, he passed his disk to one of his minions and gave a few commands in French.
Persephone continued to ignore Archangel, allowing him to ponder the young woman beside him while they followed the Frenchman. "I hope something good's on the disk." Pyre whispered to Archangel. "I speak French."
"What did they say?" Archangel whispered back.
"If the disk's a dud, we're going to be shot."
"Then I hope that the information transferred properly."
"Me too."
The Merovingian opened the door to the parlour and motioned for his guests to enter. Archangel walked in, and blinked at what he saw. A smile worked its way onto his face. "So the assassin has become a baby-sitter?" he asked as he saw Cain with a little kid on his shoulders. Cain glared at him. "Shut up."
"She is one of our more recent houseguests," the Merovingian replied. The kid waved shyly at the two humans as Cain set her down. "C'mon, Molly, let's go back to the library and wake Abel up," he said, shooting a glare at Archangel and Pyre that clearly said, 'Not. A. Word.'
"Now, if I may ask, why are your two 'ere instead of ze Irishman?"
"He was… otherwise occupied," Archangel said, straight-faced. "I also believe he may have thought you might have him shot on sight."
"Perhaps."
Archangel nodded. "Despite all evidence to the contrary, he seems to have a strong desire to live."
The Merovingian pulled a bottle from a cabinet. "Merlot, 1890." Archangel looked interested, but asked, "Would you happen to have sake? I have not had any in a very long time." He called to a random servant, "Get some sake for the young man, and make sure it's the right temperature, for once." The servant nodded and ran off.
"Arigatou, Merovingian-san."
"I do my best to be a... gracious 'ost, especially since many of my guests only get to stay once."
"Charming." Pyre muttered. Archangel remained poker-faced, but he agreed with his companion. Poitin-san, if you screwed this up I will haunt you until your death.
The Merovingian poured a cup for himself. Persephone, and Pyre. Pyre didn't touch hers. When his sake arrived, Archangel sipped and closed his eyes appreciatively. The original minion came back and whispered somethin to the Merovingian. The Frenchman's eyes widened, and he began to giggle hysterically. Archangel exchanged a look with Pyre as Persephone asked, "What is it, my love?" He whispered into her ear.
Her own eyes widened, and she chuckled.
"You two are free to go...," he burst out laughing once more.
"Is there a return message for Poitin-san?" Archangel asked.
"Tell 'im 'is apology was… appreciated."
Why do I get the feeling that is not the answer Poitin-san wished for…? Archangel rose, looking to Pyre. Pyre was already up. "Let's get out of here." "Hai, Pyre-san," the young man replied. Persephone leaned over to her husband and whispered, "If we ever need to force his hand… that girl is his weakness."
The Frenchman raised an eyebrow and smirked.