Cutting The Threads

Squall had entered the east side casino with roughly nine hundred dollars in his wallet. He had been raised in Esthar, where gambling was a hobby, a passion, a life. His father had taught him the basics of craps at a young age and he had learned the tricks of the trade quickly. Upon arriving at the tables, Squall bet heavily. Five hundred disappeared within minutes but the dice got hot and Squall pocketed eighteen hundred, clean. He reluctantly pulled himself away from the table and went over to the mini-bar where he ordered a beer. "You look like a lucky boy." The blonde waitress smiled seductively and he succumbed willingly.

"Yeah, it's not everyday you see a Goddess serve you a beer." He put to good use his charming skills and smiled innocently. The casino's neon lit up her face but not as much as Squall's comments, she giggled. He flirted a bit more before taking a temporary leave for the poker tables. He returned down seven hundred dollars down, ordered another beer.

His luck would get hot. The money would too.

RINOA LEFT ZELL'S dojo at approximately seven thirty as time was not waiting for her schedule. It trickled down rapidly and she had to excuse herself, "I have other matters which require my attention." Irvine had flinched but let it pass. She shook Zell's hand, then Selphie's and thanked them both. The partners descended down the stairs and took the road again.

It was five minutes into the drive that Rinoa flipped open her phone. In respect, Irvine kept his mouth shut. She dialed a number and waited while the call was transferred, "Hi, how're you?" She asked politely, "I'm fine, thank you. So where is he? You're an angel, Nick, thanks. I'll be on the top of the multi-story parking in fifteen minutes."

"Who the fuck was that? Saint-Nicolas?" Irvine joked as she flipped the conversation closed. He laughed at his own joke.

"A very nice, good-looking, charming guy that I hired for a psychopathic low price. Showing leg does help in business you know." Irvine snorted and waved his hands as a signal that he needed no further details, "Oh come on, I didn't sleep with the guy. I only manipulated him in a nice, clean way. Go to the multi-story parking on Cedar Boulevard. Near the casinos. Drive to the top. Everything's set up there."

"Could you brief me through this one because I have no clue what you're talking about." The scenery whizzed by as Irvine turned onto a different street. He waited patiently but received no answer from his silent partner. After his fortitude ran out he hissed at her, "It's Leonhart again! Why the fuck are we doing this?"

"I'm finalizing a bargain, ok?" She admitted innocently, "I swear, this'll be the last contact I'll ever have with him, even though that's none of your business. It's really none of your concern who I keep in touch with anyways, ok? So just follow my instructions, please? I don't see why it bothers you so much."

"It bothers me because I can't stand these fucking girly crushes!" Irvine snapped and Rinoa only gaped in absolute offense, "If you're want to fucking fuck the fucking guy then fucking do so and lets it be over with for Christ's sake! You're being a goddamn immature bitch! This isn't kindergarten anymore, Rinoa! I thought you were past all this emo shit! Now you're turning all fucking soft on me, Christ!"

"I'm not turning fucking soft! Just leave me the Hell alone, Irvine. We're not all heartless bastards that fuck to calm down or just for fun!" Rinoa bit back with blackened, hot anger, "It's not a school girl crush, it's not about sex, it's not about love … it's about a deal. It's about someone who, once upon a time, trusted me. What I did to him was for the best but I can't help regretting sometimes because down to the facts, he was the only one who actually believed in me. He is the only person that I can't be indebted to, under any circumstances."

There was a silence and Irvine turned on his left flasher. It was barely a murmur but still clearly audible, "You loved him. You really loved him. You still do."

"Bullshit, Kinneas. You don't know what you're talking about." Rinoa replied but Irvine picked up the slight quaver in her voice, "I don't have what it takes to love someone." The remainder of the trip remained silent.

They drove east for ten minutes until arriving at a white, multi-story parking lot set up right near the local mall. The shopping center was closed however, making the lot empty except for the odd car. Irvine paid the required fee from the driver's window and he was permitted in. He went up ramps four times until finally arriving at the top.

The driver cut the engine and Rinoa got out. Four guys waited on the side and Irvine felt obliged to follow her so he could beat the shit out of any who even tried to touch her. "Hey boys, good work. You're worth the money." She smiled particularly at a handsome man, wearing dark jeans and a dark pullover. He had gray eyes, bleached platinum hair and beard stubble, "Did you put the tracker on his car?"

Nick nodded and she smiled again, "Great, thanks. Let me guess … he's in the casino?" She raised her eyebrow in the general direction of the impressive money-raking structure, owned by whom else? DeGracia.

Nicolas nodded again and spoke up finally, "Yeah, had a pretty hot night too. He's Hell on wheels at those craps tables."

Rinoa smiled genuinely and closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief, "Good for him." Irvine rolled his eyes in the background but continued to watch Nick closely. He didn't like the look of him, someone he wouldn't trust. He mentally cursed Rinoa for being so credulous, "How will we find out when he's leaving?" She had the perfect view of the entrance and of the payphones next to it.

"We have someone inside." Nick explained, "He'll radio us when he's leaving."

"Excellent." Rinoa approved, "It should be soon." She saw Nick's questioning glance, "He's the responsible type."

They waited five minutes until the radio cackled at Nick's waist, "Target leaving!" Rinoa reached for her phone and flipped it open, "Tell me you have the payphones number … right?" Nick reached in his back pocket and handed Rinoa a paper folded in quarters, "Oh, you even highlighted and narrowed down my numbers, great!" She thanked gratefully and dialed the first highlighted number just as Squall exited the casino.

SQUALL'S GAZE FELL upon the payphone first. They hardly rang and when they did it was some sort of psychopath playing a joke or a game. Pedestrians looked in wonder at the ringing machine but made no move to pick it up. Squall took a few tentative steps towards it.

Atop the parking, Rinoa encouraged him telepathically, "Come on baby, you know you want to." She thought, amused at his unmatched curiosity. Relief swelled in her like a balloon … he was still so predictable.

Squall finally picked up the phone and brought it to his ear but he said nothing to the caller. He only waited for him or her to respond. He didn't wait very long, "Hi baby, haven't spoken to you in a while." He froze. A sweet voice, one he recognized. His heart picked up a beat and his palms became sweaty. His breathing became shallow and quick. He began looking at his surroundings nervously. Where was she?

"Don't bother, sweetie, just listen. Get to the payphone across 'Charlie's Diner' at the end of this street where it crosses onto Stonehenge Avenue. Be quick." Squall was about to ask more questions but was cut short when she hung up.

He slammed the phone back onto the cradle and made a dash for his rental. He fumbled with the keys for a while and finally ignited the engine. He zoomed down the Boulevard, cutting random people off. Using the handbrake, the tires squealed and rubber burned as he swerved right near the indicated, ringing payphone, he got out of the car, ran to it, unhooked the line and before Rinoa could even speak he spoke out, a bit breathless, "Where the fuck are you? And how do you know when to call?

"None of your business. And there's a tracker on your car. No, you can't know where, that would ruin my fun." Rinoa answered cheerfully, "The handbrake technique was good though and I can't believe you once called me a crazy driver. Either way, get to the payphone on the corner of Stonehenge and Burlington … just drive north on Stonehenge." He heard the 'click' of her cutting the connection. He roared in frustration and smashed the receiver back in place.

It took him double the time to get to the next payphone and the tone of deception that Rinoa used when announcing that the stopwatch didn't lie was enough to send him hurling swear words in her general direction, "Come on, Squally … you're slipping. Make me proud; get to the payphone on the corner of Burlington and Shepard. Ride west on Burlington. You have less than a minute and forty seconds."

"NO!" Squall yelled into empty air for she had already hung up her end of the line. Squall calmly replaced the phone into place and strode back to his car. Within the shell of his automobile however, he because a madman as he raced down Burlington at mach three speed. He thanked the Gods that cops weren't around.

He braked abruptly, with the pedal this time, left the engine running while he got out of the car and picked up the ringing phone once more, "I'm sick of this Heartilly, I'm running around like a fucking hamster while you're probably pissing yourself laughing, wherever you are."

"Oh, I'm not that mean. Though it is amusing how you're actually listening to what I'm telling you to do." Squall clenched his fists together and was about to hang up when she spoke again, "If you keep down Shepard Street towards the shore, you'll find a warehouse. The door of the rented area 4C is open. Go inside, you'll find what I've been meaning to give you."

" … Ok." He replied as coldly as he could muster.

"Oh, and Squall?" He was about to hang up but something made the apparatus come back to his ear again. He was silent, as she continued, "Please don't try and find me. This is good-bye … we both want it this way." She was answered by the clicking of him hanging up. She flipped her phone closed. It was done now.

Squall continued calmly down Shepard until he reached the shore, the docks with warehouses that dotted the scenery. He drove around the warehouse until he found 4C. He let himself in and looked around the empty room. He flipped on the light switch and a single light lit up in the center of the room. His eyes followed the beam and landed upon a briefcase. He clicked the locks open and flipped it open.

He picked up a note that was placed above green wads of money. The handwriting was familiar to him.

Hey baby,

If you remember, I do owe you some .5 of a million. You'll find it all right here, counted to the last bill. I know you won't throw it around. Use it to your benefit. Don't take it as a token of my apology because I know you aren't willing to forgive. After you read this note, forget me. Let's pretend we aren't even acquaintances. And don't get in my way, I don't want to hurt you. Bye-bye pretty boy.

He crumpled the note, snapped the briefcase shut and dragged it off the floor. Mixed feelings bubbled within him. The first was red, hot anger that possessed him enough to go find her and kill her. The other was gratefulness that she had actually remembered, even more, kept the end of the bargain that they had shook on a year ago.

Once he was back in his rental, he clicked open the briefcase once more and ran his hands atop the nearly stacked wads of money. First thing tomorrow, he'd buy a cozy little apartment in the heart of the city and a good car. His business would have to be taken care of early because he had a 'meeting' with Diabolos at 10:30 a.m.

He shut the briefcase and set it down in the seat next to him. That night, he drove to a mid-class hotel and tried to sleep. He tossed and turned, unable to wish away the only thought in his mind: Rinoa Heartilly. It was near midnight when he finally yawned and stretched in his bed. He got up reluctantly and walked over to the window that overlooked a part of the city. "Where the Hell are you, Rinoa?" He thought, rubbing his temples sleepily, " … This is far from over. I'm not just going to step aside." This is good-bye … we both want it this way. "No, it's only you who wants it that way. This is far from good-bye."

He made his silent promise.

WHEN SQUALL WAS swearing his vows, Rinoa was at home, slipping in and out consciousness while the television schedule carried on. The news bulletins, the stock market follow-up, the late night movies. Her eyes closed for minutes and then snapped back open, followed by a groan of annoyance. She was lying on the couch, head resting on a pillow. She had kicked Irvine out when he was only adding weight to her migraine. Her hand had more then once reached for the phone and dialed half of Nick's cellular phone number, only to be replaced on the cradle. She couldn't call him. It was too soon. She had just thrown the final rose on the casket of her past love. She wasn't ready.

So instead, she lay there, terribly alone and longing for a male presence. More precisely, she longed for a Squall Leonhart to suddenly appear and kiss away all her insecurities. He was the only one who could, though he didn't know it himself. She had done well to keep that a secret. It was unfair to him but it was a term of security for her.

Presently, her mind was conscious. Her eyes glazed at the screen as if it were supposed to magically take away the boredom that left her restless. She let out a small sigh and felt the floor for the remote. She emerged victorious and began flipping through the channels. What was usually on at this hour? Nothing worth watching, but what could one do if even sleep couldn't carry away the burden on her shoulders?

The phone suddenly rang, sending a shock coursing through her tired body. She dropped the remote instinctively and took a moment to recollect herself and balance out her insane heartbeat. She grabbed the cordless off the end table and pressed the 'Talk' button, "Hello?" She murmured in the receiver.

"Rinoa!" Irvine's ecstatic voice greeted from the other end, her eyes darkened, "Guess what? You'll never guess what! Just try it … guess what?" He sounded half-drunk, half-drugged. The cacophony of noises in the background set the scene for a membership nightclub. Her jaw clenched in absolute rage.

"What?" She asked bluntly, coldly, harshly, "What, Irvine? What?" She failed miserably at trying to act as excited as he was. Then again, he was most likely stoned so he would not notice the difference between a genuine comment and really pathetic acting skills.

"Senior Almasy made a call on my little phoney-o here and guess-a what?" He slurred out drunkenly, his excitement still detectable, "He's got el money-o! So now, we're blood brothers! Isn't that cool? Allies all around us! Our-" She pressed the end button on her phone to cut him off and in a fit of fury she threw the cordless at the wall, making a dent and sent the phone splitting in two.

To no one in particular she yelled out hopelessly, "You're a dumbass, Kinneas!" Her fist clenched and she considered making a few more dents in the wall. She contained herself quite well. Instead of ripping her domain to shreds she stood up straight and glared at the television. She breathed in and out calmly, following a set beat. When she felt more relaxed she sat back down but the phone rang again. Since her cordless was in pieces, she would have to get the phone in the bedroom. "Oh yeah, whatever." She shouted back at the incessant rings, "Go fuck yourself!" Refusing to get up for the phone she just sat there until the caller would give up. Unfortunately, it was resilient.

Finally, the answering machine clicked on, "Hi, you've reached Rinoa Heartilly. I'm not home right now so please leave your message after the beep." She groaned at the 'originality' of her message. The voice at the other end was one that was ever so familiar to her. It sent shivers down her spine, panic mode ensued and her eyes grew wide.

"I know you're there, Rinoa. Answer. You have ten seconds."

"NO!" She yelled out in protest and scrambled up from the couch. She ran into her room, jumped across her bed and picked up the phone. Doing her best not to show her obvious lack of breath she managed a reasonable greeting, "Hello father."

"Hello Rinoa." Caraway answered gruffly from the other end.

"So, are you having fun playing 'Godfather' in Deling?" She asked casually, just to let him know that she knew, "Is it better than politics? I hear you're not too popular lately."

James Caraway was silent for a moment and then began his cross-examination, "Might I ask how you found me out?"

"Oh, come on. I'm not that thickheaded. DeGracia, Wolfe, and Fernandez … all airport companies and not a scandal in years. No court room battles, no turf wars, no excess advertising, no bashing. It's too … too … too unified. No one has these types of allies, my dearest parent. There's no scramble for the gold so it got me thinking … it must just all be going to one big bank account."

"Of course." Caraway congratulated her observations, "You're smarter than he thinks you are."

"Pardon me?" Rinoa snapped back, knowing very well that he must have meant Seifer, "Either or, is there a reason why you've phoned at such an ungodly hour?"

"Yes. Your allying with Zell Dincht will not help you smuggle those drugs across the borders, Rinoa. Dearly sorry, but I know each move you make." She remained silent so he continued on, "Not to mention, you were on my territory today. Don't start acting up and just stay in line. I don't want to hurt your toys." She bit her lip as he went on with his threats, "This is a game of chess, my dear. You've lost too many pieces. Your money is your king." He stopped his lecture, "A game of life … and you are only a pawn. Check mate." He hung up. She slammed her end down.

It was the second phone that Rinoa had broken in one night.

SEIFER ALMASY DRANK his martini slowly, observing the blonde beauty that was poised before him, sipping her drink as casually as she cared to, "So, Seifer … what's on the news?" Quistis Trepe crossed her legs, her eye contact with the young man never breaking.

"I think I caught myself a Heartilly." Seifer smirked and took another swallow of his beverage, "But you never really know with her. To tell you the truth, my impatience is increasing. Then again … when we have her, there will be no failing."

"Of course not. The plot is flawless." Quistis observed her drink with an expert's eye and took another taste, "But just in case … don't let me down, Seifer. She's pissed me off for long enough." Her eyes went from the cherry in her glass to the emerald eyes of her ally.

"I wouldn't do that, you know me." Seifer leaned in towards her, "But … we still need a hit man." Seifer cupped her chin in his hand and drew her face closer to his.

"It's taken care of. Diabolos might have someone. I'll have to get a good look at him first, though." Her smile grew wider and she allowed herself to be coaxed towards him, "Even better, he had old connections with Rinoa … a certain … ex-boyfriend." Seifer shook with absolute glee.

"That is the essence of 'bitch'." Seifer laughed, "I love it." His lips reached for hers and they met for only a brief moment before being pulled apart, "The only thing against us is her unpredictability. We'll have to watch that. Shouldn't be too long until The Syndicate is slammed to the ground leaving the field of expansion for Almasy and Trepe." Both laughed in pleasure. The board was set … the pawns were moving … the queen was watching. Check.