Mitochondrial Showdown

Written by Asuka's Knight

Disclaimer: All the characters in this fic, bar the ones I obviously made up are the property of Squaresoft (or as they're known now, SquareEnix). So, don't sue me because you can't get blood from a stone…and even less from me.

-

Chapter Two: Eve

Two days later, I was weaving my way through New York rush hour. Glancing down at the clock on my dashboard, I saw that I had less than ten minutes to get to Eve's school.

The folder had included a detailed rundown of her routine everyday. She got off school at two, then walked half a mile to the house where she and Aya stayed. From then on, she was there. It included other things, such as what time she did her homework, what time she went to bed, and other stuff like that.

I knew that this was the best time to get her. Between here and the house was no-man's-land, and provided there weren't any over-ambitious police around, it would be a cinch to nab her. The house was too risky, because I could guess how attached Aya was to Eve, and that she wouldn't be left unguarded. Getting noticed by the FBI would be very detrimental to my career.

Finally, I reached the school, but continued past it. It would have been suicide to try and grab her in the crowd that was bound to form once school let out, so instead, I drove further, where I estimated the halfway mark between the school and house was.

But, it seemed that I had pissed fate off earlier that day, because as I rounded the corner, I saw something that blew my nice and tidy plan into a billion pieces.

I recognised the two the moment I stopped my car some ten feet from them. Nikolai and Igor Dubyasevich, two of the most unpleasant individuals I've had the pleasure of running into. Identical twins, they had the same hooked noses, beetle-black eyes and shaved heads. They were about six-eight, maybe six-nine, and arms that were almost as thick as my body. Both were ex-KGB operatives who had dived into the mercenary business after the break-up of the Soviet Union. While still working for the KGB, they had developed a taste for torture, and even a few of their most hardened colleagues were sickened by some of the things they came out with.

My heart dropped to somewhere in the region of my gallbladder as I recognised the person they were dragging with them into an alley on the right. It was Eve. How they had gotten her, and why they had ignored the fact that this was my job, didn't matter to me. All I knew was that I had to get her back.

I parked and got out. With these two, I was going to be very careful, especially with the girl present. I also reached around my jeans and made sure my .50 calibre Desert Eagle was there. Then, I headed into the alley.

Igor was the first to spot me, and swung a loaded Glock 17 in my direction. When he recognised me, a slow grin spread over his face.

"Nikolai! Look who is here."

Nikolai turned around, a sawn-off Remington in one hand and a handful of Eve's hair in the other. Eve's eyes flicked from her captor to me, alternating between fear and confusion.

"Well, Dante. We were not expecting you for a while. I hope you do not mind if we take over on this little job. The reward is quite substantial, and my brother and I have fallen on slightly hard times."

"Yeah," I replied, injecting a bit of a sneer into voice, all the time measuring the distance between me and the two guns being pointed at me. "Inflation's going through the roof. I can only guess what that's doing to the price of booze, crack and the occasional 'Female Companion'."

Igor fired a shot, splintering the sidewalk at my feet. "Nikolai..." He spoke one or two phrases to his brother in Russian, before turning back to me. "We have decided to kill you. Nothing personal, you know. It is, how do you say, just business."

Time was starting to work against me. Igor's idiotic gunshot would have alerted half of the neighbourhood by now.

"I'm sorry, Igor, but I do take it personally."

I jerked the Desert Eagle out of the waistband of my jeans and dropped to one knee. I felt Igor's bullet fly over my head, the hot wind kissing my scalp. The next moment, I thumbed off the safety and fired one shot into Nikolai's arm, which caused him to release Eve and she collapsed to the floor, hands flung over her head.

I ducked behind a dumpster as two more shots missed me by a hair's breadth. Igor was now cursing and screaming orders to his brother. The next moment, I popped out and squeezed off three shots. Two buried themselves in Igor's chest, and I was certain he was dead even before my third struck him in the throat, spilling claret all over the alley.

"Murderer!" Nikolai was screaming at me, and suddenly levelled the shotgun at Eve, who was still on the floor. "You want the girl? Have fun scraping her off the floor!"

Without a whole lot of forethought, I hurled myself out of cover, but realised too late that I was running full-tilt into a trap. Smiling, Nikolai turned and directed the gaping muzzle of the Remington in my direction. I managed to slam on the brakes and simultaneously throw myself onto my back. The shot that would have vaporised me otherwise, merely ripped three or four angry gashes in my left bicep and shoulder. I hit a patch of water, and my remaining momentum carried me forward, until I found myself lying between Nikolai's legs. He looked down in surprise, but before he could reload, I raised the Desert Eagle into his face and it was my turn to smile.

"Hurry up, and you can still catch your brother."

After that, it was the gun's turn to speak. When I got out from under his prostrate body, I felt the bullet wounds in my arm. They weren't too deep, but it still hurt. The next second, I saw Eve kneeling next to me, smiling.

"Thank you for..."

Her words were cut off as I jabbed my gun into her shoulder. She looked at it, then back at me, and understanding dawned on her face. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she looked me straight in the eye.

"You people...Why? Why can't I just go on with my life?"

I had no reply. All I knew was that I had to get out of here. The shooting match hadn't really helped, and I realised that almost a dozen people could already be phoning 911. I tried to comfort her by putting my hand on her shoulder, but she shoved it off, leaving a smear of blood on her green sweater.

"Get your hands off me!"

"Alright. Come with me, my car is around the corner. And, please," I added, seeing her cast a look at the upper end of the alley. "Don't try to run."

-

The ride back to my apartment was pretty damned depressing. Her crying had been limited to the occasional sniff, but let me tell you, it didn't make me feel any less guilty.

The silence in the car finally got to me, and I tried to make conversation. "You weren't supposed to get out until two, so how'd those two manage to get you?"

At first, I thought she was just going to flat-out ignore me, and I wouldn't have blamed her. But, she finally responded, though she didn't bother to face me.

"Fifteen minutes before the end of the day, I asked to go to the bathroom. On my way back, one of them grabbed me near the office and dragged me out through a hole they had cut in the fence. They were about to pull me into their van they had parked at the end of that alley, when you showed up."

She fell silent again, and I couldn't think of anything else to say.

We finally stopped outside my apartment building and I ushered her into the elevator. She didn't say anything, and you couldn't really blame her. In the space of twenty minutes, her life had been turned upside down. Her words from earlier were still ringing in my ears. She could sense this had something to do with her past, and I had probably brought up a bunch of memories she had been hoping to bury forever.

When we reached my apartment, I first thought about getting my pills, but decided against it. I still had one more thing I had to deal with. I locked the door behind us, armed the code lock, and told Eve to make herself comfortable, indicating where the spare room was. She didn't respond, but merely went down the hall to the spare bedroom and shut the door.

Tevani had never specified what I should do with Eve once I had gotten her, so I phoned him.

"George, I have what you asked for."

"Excellent. You succeeded admirably once again."

"No problem. Where do you want me to take her to?"

"Ahh, that." I immediately sensed something was wrong. "Dante, I must ask you to keep her with you indefinitely, until I can make plans."

"What? George, I do not need the FBI on my case. You paid me to find her, and bring her to you, nothing else. Now, I've kept up my end of the bargain, you keep yours."

"My-my, aren't we testy. Dante, if it is simply a matter of money, I will be more than willing to double, or even triple your fee." I wanted to protest, tell him I didn't care about the money, but he continued. "But, I have heard that the LAPD is offering a reward for any information relating to a shooting in an alley near the school where the sister of an FBI agent was kidnapped. It is a mere drop in the ocean to me, but still, one does not sneeze at free money."

"Is that a threat?" It was supposed to come out demanding and forceful, but his comment had winded me.

"No, just a friendly aide memoire, to remind you who you're dealing with. Goodbye Dante, I shall contact you when I'm ready to take delivery." The phone died in my ear, and I sat there for a few seconds, just staring at it in amazement.

After it had worn off, I replaced the phone and dialled again. It was answered after about two rings.

"Dante, my man! What's been happening?"

The person on the other end sounded like a stoned hippie, but that was just an act. Stephen Bruwer was a genius with both computers and pretty much anything to do with cellular biology. He wasn't a bounty hunter in the true sense of the word, as he rarely ventured out "Into the field" as it were. Instead, he was usually asked by some other hunter to handle the computer aspect of things, and he made quite a good living out of it. Hey, at least he's never had to explain to a nurse where the two 9mm slugs that she's pulling out of your left butt cheek came from (That's a pretty funny story. I'll tell you some other time.).

"You know, business as usual."

"Not from what I heard, pal. It seems you took on another job for Georgie, and ended up sending two of our much-admired co-workers down the tubes in the process."

"Hey, Steve, that's not fair. You know I wouldn't kill..."

He laughed, and I felt slightly stupid. "Geez, Dante, chill out. I know who the two are that you rubbed out, and I can probably guess they were trying to butt in on your job. Besides, there are a few people who would gladly buy you a beer or three for taking out the Terrible Twosome."

"Tell them I'll take them up on that offer sometime. Now, I need a small favour from you."

"Already taken care of, amigo." There was a rustle of papers and what sounded like fast-food cartons being cleared away. "The two were hired by an old friend of yours. Remember Thomas Cornwall?"

The name was definitely familiar. Tom was a small-time smuggler who had once tried to contract me to carry out a hit on his girlfriend. She was pregnant with Tommy junior, and was threatening to go to the police if Tom didn't own up to his responsibilities and start acting like a father. A day later, I was glad to inform him that he could go fuck himself, because I didn't kill people for money, especially pregnant eighteen-year-olds. I also told him that I had gone to see his girlfriend and convinced her to take out a safety deposit box. Inside was a detailed description of his operation, along with several incriminating pieces of evidence. If the girl died, I would make sure that the police got the key.

Of course, he didn't like that. The girl is still alive, last I heard she had finally smartened up and ditched Tom, and was now married to a pretty nice guy. Tom tried to have me taken care of once or twice, but since I'm telling you this, you would have to assume that he was unsuccessful. Now, it seemed he was intent on trying to steal the Tevani job. Nikolai and Igor were already dead, and I was about to make sure Tom knew that he would be too if he tried a stunt like that again.

"Thanks, Steve. One more thing. Where would our friend, Mr. Cornwall, be between seven and nine tonight?"

"Where he always is between seven and nine. The Ace of Spades gentleman's club, for a little TLC. I've got the address right here."

I quickly scribbled it down and hung up. Things were going to get interesting tonight.

-

After my phone conversations, I walked into my bathroom. I took off my shirt, considered throwing it in the hamper for the laundry, but finally decided to get rid of it. The shotgun had ripped off most of the upper left shoulder, so it was beyond salvaging. I cleaned out the wounds and wrapped a strip of gauze around my upper arm. The pellets I had pulled out simply went down the drain.

When this as done, I went across the hall to the spare room and went in. Eve was staring out the window at the traffic below. She turned around and looked me up and down.

"You might want to put on a shirt."

"Why?" I replied, trying to inject some humour into the situation. "I'm such a perfect specimen of the male species." I dropped into a strong man pose. "Don't you think?"

"I think you're a cruel man, no, not even a man, but a boy, who has a cash register where his heart should be. These people you're taking me back to, Aya told me about some of the things that were going on in the shelter, and now you want to hand me over so they can continue that?"

I shrugged before replying. "You're going to be stuck here for a bit. The person who asked me to find you can't accommodate you at the moment."

"Why do you do this?"

I tried to make her understand. "I do what I do because it's what I'm good at, and I make money out of it."

Her face suddenly flushed with anger. "You're good at it? Tell me, how many other lives have you destroyed for the sake of money?"

My own temper was beginning to simmer nicely. "You know, I really can't remember. And you should be thanking me. If I hadn't shown up, Nikolai and Igor would be doing things with you that are illegal in most parts of the world."

"Oh yes," Her voice was beginning to rise. "Thanks, for kidnapping me and planning to hand me over to the people I've spent four years of my life trying to forget. I wish I could meet your parents, so I could tell them what a lousy job they did raising you."

The crack about my parents did it. It usually takes a lot more to get me steamed, and when it happens, it's safer to clear out, but my shoulder hurt like hell. That aside, anybody who insults my parents has pretty much signed their death warrant. She might have seen my expression change, because she took a step backwards.

"You leave my parents out of this!" I roared, causing her to flinch. I knew I'd regret the next part, but I was boiling. "And at least I HAVE parents!"

Immediately, I was sorry I had said that. Eve looked as if she had been slapped, and for all intents and purposes, I had done that. The anger dissolved into a look of grief that made my temper vanish as well.

"I...I didn't mean..."

"Get out." She said almost inaudibly, her head bowed. "Just leave me alone, you bastard."

It was going to be no use trying to talk to her again. So, I did as she asked and left the room, closing the door behind me. Out in the hall, I breathed out a sigh of annoyance. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't annoyed at her, but at myself.

Why did I have to go and lose my temper? I mean, I couldn't understand for one second what she was going through. I resolved then to try my best and make her stay as comfortable as possible.

Feeling sorry for myself wasn't exactly helping me, so I went to my room and read for four hours. I didn't have to worry about Eve getting out. The windows wouldn't help her, because we were on the tenth floor. The door was locked by a combination code only I knew, and it would take a lot to knock it down, because it was three inches of stainless steel, and secured to the wall with titanium hinges. She couldn't phone for help, because the phone was voice activated, responding only to my voice. She could try screaming for help, but the walls were soundproofed. All-in-all, the modifications to this place must have easily cost me twenty grand, but it had been worth it.

Escape wasn't an option.

-

Ten past seven, I was ready to go. I had taken a quick shower and changed the dressing on the gunshot wound. I was dressed in what I usually wear: Jeans, leather jacket and a blue or black shirt (In this case, it was blue). I knocked on Eve's door and when I didn't receive a reply, went in anyway.

She was lying on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. She briefly looked at me, before returning to stare at the ceiling.

"I'm heading out for a while. Anything you need?"

"..."

I made an exasperated noise. "Whether we like it or not, we're going to be stuck with each other for a good few days. I'm trying my best to make it easier for you. So is there anything I could get you?"

Eve sat up. "Anything?"

"You have my word, anything."

"Then give me the code for the door lock."

I laughed, but my laugh abruptly turned into a yell as my body suddenly went up in flames. As I looked up, Eve was off the bed and standing in front of me, her face knotted in concentration.

Tevani's file had included a report on Eve's "Parasite Energy", her ability to manipulate mitochondrial energy. It had stated that Eve's abilities had started fading since the end of the Shelter incident, and today it was doubted if she could even light a match.

Man, was the guy who wrote that ever wrong.

"Give me the code," Eve said, in a voice that tried to be commanding, but I could hear the shakiness. She didn't want to do this, I could tell. Her powers probably frightened her as much as they were scaring me at the moment.

"I can't do that, Eve." I replied, gritting my teeth as the heat began to reach searing levels. The fire all over my body wasn't the source of the heat, but it seemed to be coming from inside me. I was getting incinerated from the inside out!

"I don't want to kill you, but if you don't give it to me, I will."

"You can't kill me," The pain was now reaching unbearable levels, and I barely suppressed a yell before I continued. "You're too scared."

Her determined expression faltered momentarily, and so did the fire. I seized upon it, knowing that psychological warfare might be my last hope. I pulled the Desert Eagle from my belt and levelled it against her forehead. She drew back, her face shocked. This time, the flames flickered out even longer.

"The gloves are off now. Look into my eyes, little girl," I hissed, keeping my voice as menacing as I could. "I've killed a couple of people in my career. Never anyone as young as you and certainly not a girl, but where my life is at stake, I'm not squeamish. And my client doesn't need you breathing, just so you know."

"You'll never get a shot off," She replied, but her voice sounded uncertain.

"Want to risk that?" I cocked the gun, hearing it clearly even above the roar of the fire. She seemed to believe my bluff, but reacted in completely the opposite way I expected. I saw the sudden shift in her eyes, and knew what was going to happen about a second before it did. The fire barely had a chance to reach the scorching temperature I knew Eve was planning to crank it up to, when I fired.

I was never planning to kill her, even if things got really desperate. So, my aim had shifted very subtly so I was aiming only an inch or so to the side of her temple. Still, having a large calibre handgun go off a few inches from your face isn't an experience most people would be able to ignore, and she instinctively recoiled backwards.

The heat died, and I put my plan into action. I jumped forward, jamming the Desert Eagle back into my belt and seized her arm. With one sharp movement I tugged her towards me, before spinning around to her rear and striking the back of her neck with the side of my hand. She instantly went limp, and I caught her before she hit the floor. I gently picked her up and placed her back on the bed, trying to ignore the bruise that was starting to form on her neck.

With my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans, I looked down at the unconscious girl and felt such a deep sense of self-loathing that seemed to just make my stomach want to lose the last four or five meals I had had. Was this what I had been reduced to, knocking out girls half my size? I had done some things in my career, things I'm sure as hell not proud of, but nothing compared to this.

I looked at my watch, and was startled to see I had spent ten minutes just staring at her and running through my thoughts. Well, standing around wasn't accomplishing anything. Instead, I turned my thoughts to the task before me. Tom Cornwall was about to learn that you don't step on Dante's toes.

-

I pulled up in front of the Ace of Spades, which was buried deep in the heart of the red light district. A faded neon sign flashed on and off, advertising the establishment's qualities (All tastes catered to, and we mean ALL tastes) and I knew that Tom was as cheap in his hobbies as he was in his business.

Inside was possibly even worse than outside. I guessed the wallpaper and carpeting had last been replaced roundabout the time Hoover was president. An intoxicating perfume of alcohol, vomit and other fluids I was too scared to identify hit me the moment I went two feet inside. Sounds that, frankly, would give any normal person the heebie-jeebies, floated down from upstairs.

The girl at the front desk looked about nineteen, but the heavy layers of makeup made her look twenty years older. She put down a dog-eared magazine and looked me up and down as I walked up to her.

"Well, hello there, sweet thing. You know, you look a little too young to be here, but for a few dollars extra, we could forget about it."

"I'm looking for someone..." I replied.

"Isn't everyone? Listen kid, if you're not going to be paying..."

I took out the Desert Eagle and tapped it calmly on the counter. "Now, look here, missy," I said as her eyes took in the large handgun in front of her. "The guy I'm looking for pissed me off pretty badly, so just try to humour me. Now, I'm going to describe him, and you'll tell me what room he's in. I know he's here, so don't try to lie about it, but I also know he's smart enough to be using an assumed name. We fine on that?"

She nodded. I proceeded to describe Tom. "Short, bald guy. His face is red like a brick. High voice with a British accent. He usually wears plaid shirts so loud, they'd give you flash burns if you looked at them too long. They're always buttoned open to his stomach, so you can see a big-ass gold medallion."

She jerked her thumb at he curtain behind her. "He's in room four, with Yvonne and Rachel. He's been in there for the last hour, so I feel sorry for you if you walk in on anything."

-

The door was locked, but it didn't seem that the trio was up to anything, as it was silent beyond. I drew my gun and calmly kicked the door open. The lock wasn't really strong and it came as no surprise when it gave in, but what did surprise me was when the whole door blew out of its frame and struck the wall on the other side. It seemed the hinges weren't all that strong either.

I must have looked pretty scary to the two girls, stepping through the wreckage of the door, gun pointed in front of me. Tom was already halfway to his own gun on the nightstand, but I was able to cut him off with a shot that hit the wall an inch in front of his grasping hand. He withdrew it quickly, as if it had been burnt.

"Ladies," I said, saluting the two girls who were dressed in cowboy hats and not much else. "Tommy here has some business to take care of. He's done for tonight."

As they scrambled out and got dressed, I kept my eye on Tom. He was even redder than usual, possibly due to the exertions of the past hour. His eyes told me that he hadn't been expecting me, that I should either be unaware of his connection to Igor and Nikolai, or dead. I kept my ears alert for any panic from my shooting, but it was quiet. I guess in this neighbourhood, guns going off were the norm.

Finally, it was just the two of us. I sat down in a rickety chair opposite the bed and gave him my best shark-smile. "Tom, it's a shame we have to meet again under these circumstances. I was hoping we'd never have to meet again at all. I'm curious, about how you managed to find out about the girl."

Tom laughed, trying to act casual. "Dante. I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about. The only girls I've seen all day are the two you chased out. I can understand that you're not fond of me, but to just come in here and interrupt my leisure time..."

"Cut the bullshit, Tom!" I said quietly enough, but he instantly shut up. "I nearly ended up dead as result of your interfering, as did Eve. Where did you hear about the job?"

"I'll tell you, seeing as how I'm not going to leave you alive after tonight. There's a leak inside one of your contractor's companies. They told me about their boss, who was willing to pay a hell of a price for a girl. I'm a busy man, so I got those two Russians to kidnap her. I also knew that you were working on it, but I decided that the reward would be adequate compensation for the money you cost me with your meddling in my affairs. We were planning to take her in after two days. But, you had to go and screw it all up. I'll make sure they take care of you."

I suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Why two days?"

Tom must have seen my horrified look, because he grinned at me. "Ahh, yes. She is an attractive girl, no? I was hoping to have a little fun with her, then give her to the brothers so they could have their entertainment. They told me that they would give me their part of the reward for that privilege."

Tom's mocking tone suddenly disappeared entirely as I pulled back the hammer on the Desert Eagle. I could feel the rage burning my face, and Tom saw it as well. I slowly let the hammer drop back. He didn't look so confident when I got up to leave.

"Tom, I'm only going to tell you once. Keep away from me and from Eve, or you'll end up regretting it. And, just by the by, the Russians are currently occupying freezer numbers fifty-eight and fifty-nine at the New York morgue."

He must have thought he had gotten off scot-free. His voice rose again. "Fuck her once good for me, eh Dante?"

I whipped around and, the gun crashed in my hand and Tom screamed as a bullet buried itself in the mattress between his legs and about an inch from his...Well, I guess you can work out for yourself.

Replacing the gun, I spoke one final sentence before leaving. "That was your last warning. Next time, I'll make sure I hit you somewhere that would end your visits to this fine establishment."