Session Twenty-Six
When Leon woke the second time, the room was clean and empty. No sign of the doctor. No return of dizziness or double vision. He still had a headache, but the throb was bearable. He sat up. Someone had added a clean pair of slacks to the pile of clothes in the chair. He stared at the machinery beside the bed for a long moment, watching his reflection in the dark monitors. The skin around his right eye was puffy and swollen but otherwise, the doctor was right. There was hardly any difference between his real eye and the false one. At least, not in such a makeshift mirror.
With a sigh, he stood up and was relieved when the room remained steady. He was surprised that he wasn't tied up, but he supposed that locking the door was as good a restraint as any. There were no windows in the room and no other way out. Leon decided it was time to find out exactly where he stood with the Dragon. He got dressed in the new pants and pulled on the rest of Spike's old clothes. After putting on his shoes, he tested the door. To his utter surprise, it wasn't locked. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The hallway was windowless, just like the room he'd left. Leon guessed he must be underground. The hall was bare and white and lit with fluorescents, reminding Leon strongly of a hospital.
He stuck his hands in his pockets, digging around for a cigarette, but there was nothing in any of the pockets.
"Looking for this?" a voice interrupted.
It took everything in him not to jump and whirl to face the voice. Leon turned slowly to face Draugh, sitting in a chair propped against the wall to Leon's right. The older man held out a cigarette. Leon cursed himself for not noticing him earlier.
"It's alright, Gray tells me that your peripheral will return in time. Apparently it's the last part of your sight to sync in those cybernetic eyes."
Leon glared at him, but he took the offered cigarette. Draugh pulled Leon's silver lighter out of his pocket and tossed it to him. Leon caught it left-handed and lit his cigarette. He inhaled.
"What do you want with me?" Leon asked, slipping the lighter in his pocket. Draugh didn't object.
"Personally?" Draugh said, lowering all four legs of his chair back to the floor. He stood up. "I don't want anything from you."
"I thought you wanted me to join the Syndicate."
Draugh smiled, but it looked tight. "Perhaps," he said.
"But not now?" Leon prodded.
Draugh shrugged. "Villanova has...other plans."
"Like tearing out my eye?" Leon scowled.
"A necessary evil."
Leon shook his head, and took another draw on the cigarette. He exhaled before he answered. "You Dragons think every evil is 'necessary.'"
"We have some good virtues. However, I believe it will take more than a cybernetic eye for you to see that."
Leon didn't answer. After all, Draugh was right.
Draugh cleared his throat. "Now, Villanova wants me to take you to your room, so if your questions can wait, I'll take you upstairs."
"My room?" Leon asked.
"Seems not," Draugh chuckled. "And yes, your room. Unless you'd rather stay here?" Draugh gestured at the door.
Leon put his hands in his pockets and affected an uninterested slouch. "No, no a new room's fine."
"Good, then let me show you some real Dragon hospitality." Draugh started to walk down the hall.
"You're not going to tie me up or anything?" Leon asked.
Draugh turned and gave him a curious look. "No. But I'd like to remind you that you are in the Dragon's Tower. While the men have been ordered not to kill you yet, there are no restrictions on maiming, shooting, or detaining you. Just something to keep in mind should you decide to leave. I'd also like to remind you that there are cameras everywhere. You can't even take a piss without the captain of the guard knowing about it."
Leon shuddered. "That's...unpleasant," he muttered.
"Welcome to your new home, boy."
Leon scowled and followed Draugh down the hall. Draugh led him to an elevator. They stepped in and he pressed the button for the 11th floor - the buttons were labeled up to 15. The elevator gave a slight shudder and began to rise. Leon could feel the weight of the elevator's speed pressing down on him and he reached a hand out to the gold bar running at waist height around the car. His head throbbed and he felt the beginnings of nausea coming on again. He clamped his teeth around his cigarette. Draugh gave him a sideways glance as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened.
Leon stepped out, feeling a little disoriented, but his stomach calmed as he stood on solid ground again. The two men stood on a polished wood floor decorated with a geometric pattern. The floor was circular and open in the center with a glass waist-high wall topped with a gold rail running around the circle's inner edge. Doors led off the outer edge of the circle. Potted plants of varying exotic backgrounds were attractively arranged around the floor, creating small private areas where someone could take a phone call or eat their lunch. If Leon didn't know he was standing in the Dragon's tower, he would have thought he'd walked into a bank.
Draugh walked up to the rail and motioned for Leon to follow. Leon walked up, making sure to put Draugh on his left, and stared down the open center of the building at concentric floors below. People hurried across the floors below, all heading somewhere with purpose. Leon caught glimpses of suits and guns and the simpler dress of janitors and staff as the members of the tower want about their business.
"It's impressive," he breathed, almost to himself.
"It is, isn't it," Draugh agreed as he lit a cigarette of his own. "Fifteen floors of pure Syndicate, representing fifteen years of hard work. We've got state-of-the-art labs, holding cells, communications centers, weapon facilities, cafeterias, quarters for well over 500 members and, of course, a hospital. Not to mention a library, and training facilities for the recruits. In fact, you could almost say we're civilized."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Leon asked, tapping his cigarette against the rail and watching the ashes fall out of sight down the center of the tower.
Draugh shrugged. "I thought it might be more interesting for you than saying nothing."
Leon sighed. "Yeah, I guess there's that."
"Lost your fire, boy?"
Leon didn't even raise his hackles at being called boy this time. He just felt tired. And alone. "You could say that," Leon said in a moment of vulnerability. "I just found out that Faye betrayed me, Villanova shot Ed, you kidnapped me, and I lost my eye. Am I supposed to be happy about all this?"
It was Draugh's turn to shrug. "I suppose not. But you're still alive, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Leon said, giving Draugh a glance out of the corner of his eye. "For now."
Draugh looked away too quickly. Leon felt his stomach drop into his shoes, but he decided not to ask.
"Well," Draugh said brusquely. "Your room's this way." He gestured to the left and the two started walking again. Draugh led Leon about three-quarters of the way around the circle from the elevator and stopped at a door inset into the wall. He opened the door and ushered Leon inside. Leon put his hands in his pockets and sauntered through the door.
He wasn't expecting the grandeur that met him on the other side. He stepped into a large suite, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a balcony overlooking Tharsis directly across from him. A bed that would dwarf his entire room on the Bebop took up the left side of the room, facing a tv on the right side that was wider than Leon was tall. A fountain in one corner burbled merrily and more potted plants were scattered attractively around the room, half-concealing doors that led into what Leon guessed would be a bathroom or kitchenette. Villanova sat on a rounded white couch in the center of the room, legs crossed, a tea set laid out on the low coffee table in front of her. She was dressed casually again, a pair of cargo pants, complete with gun belt and gun, a white t-shirt, with her hair swept back out of her face. She held a steaming cup of tea in her bandaged right hand.
"Mr. Spiegel," she smiled and gestured at the tea table. "Why don't you join me for tea?"
Leon took a cautious sip of his tea, blowing on it to cool it first. He was surprised by the pleasant flavor of the tea, citrusy, with a hint of spice he couldn't name. He almost regretted snuffing his cigarette in the teapot now. Villanova had given him a hefty scowl for it, but he'd felt an inane sense of pride at his little act of rebellion.
"You like it, Mr. Spiegel?" Villanova asked. Draugh had apparently not been invited to this little tea ceremony, since he left after Leon took a seat.
"Stop calling me that," Leon sighed.
Villanova took a sip of her tea, giving Leon an amused look over the rim of her teacup. "It's who you are, boy, whether you like it or not."
"I like 'boy' even less," Leon said.
"Then what do you prefer?" Villanova asked. Leon hated the gleam of amusement in her eye.
"Just Leon."
"Alright, Leon," Villanova shrugged like it didn't matter what Leon's name was. "Now, you want to know why you're here, don't you?"
"That'd be cool," Leon admitted, hiding his expression in his teacup. He didn't trust himself to keep a steady face right now.
"You know your father killed the Syndicate."
"So I've heard."
"And you know I've rebuilt it."
"So I've seen."
Villanova silenced Leon with a glare. "Don't interrupt, boy."
Leon fell into surly silence.
"Here's the thing. Re-building a syndicate isn't easy. It takes a lot of power and a lot of money and a lot of...charisma," Villanova chose her word carefully. "I have clawed my way up fifteen years of doubt to bring the Dragon back to life. You know there are other Syndicates out there, yes?"
"White Tiger and Blue Snake," Leon said.
Villanova nodded, looking almost proud of him. "Yes. Up until recently, they enjoyed a limelight they had rarely seen when the Dragon was in full power. But I've been taking back control of all the drug trades, brothels, casinos, and crime in this city. And I need an event that will solidify my power over the Tiger and the Snake once and for all. They've gotten cocky. They think they hold the dragon under their boot like a lizard. But I will show them that this lizard still breathes fire. And I'm going to do it by eliminating the last threat to the Dragon's power. You."
Leon's stomach plummeted into his shoes and he set his teacup down to hide the sudden shake in his hands. He managed to keep his voice steady when he spoke. "Look, I'm no threat to the Dragon." He licked dry lips. "I'll walk away right now and pretend we never met if you want. I don't want the Dragon, or it's power. You can have it, and gladly."
Villanova laughed. "I'm not worried that you'll try to take the Dragon from me, Leon. But it's no secret that you hold no love for my Syndicate. And, knowing what your father did to us the first time around, I can't let you go as a free agent. Who knows, you might come back to destroy me in fifteen years." Villanova took a slow sip of her tea.
Leon didn't know what to say.
"That's why I need you to play a little part for me in two days. Are you game?" she asked coyly.
"Not for you," Leon said.
Villanova shook her head. "Aren't you even the least bit curious?"
"No," Leon whispered, feeling goosebumps break out on his arms. The hair on the back of his neck rose and his headache pounded at his skull with renewed ferocity.
Villanova tskd into her cup.
"Actually, yes," Leon said slowly. "I am curious about one thing."
Villanova raised an eyebrow as if to say go on.
"If you're just going to...eliminate...me in two days, why go to all this trouble?" he gestured at the cybernetic eye.
Villanova leaned forward and put her teacup on the table, bracing her elbows against her knees.
"Because it's not you I need to kill. It's your father."
Leon was on his feet in an instant. "I AM NOT SPIKE!" he yelled. "Why can't anybody stop acting like I'm someone I'm not?! And why do you think the Syndicates are going to fall for you killing a nineteen-year-old boy instead of the forty-something-year-old man my father would be!"
"Sit down before you hurt someone," Villanova said.
Leon realized his hands were balled into fists. He crossed his arms, but didn't sit down.
"Look," Villanova said, gesturing to the tv screen, which reflected the room, herself, and Leon. "I don't have to try so hard to make this illusion work. You've already got the height, build, and hair to be your father's twin," she pointed at Leon's reflection. "I can fix your age with makeup and some lighting. The only thing I can't fake is a cybernetic eye. And I know that there are Tiger and Snake operatives who will scan my deception for just such a thing. I need them to believe you're Spike so that I can put him to death once and for all and let the Dragon rise back to her rightful place at the top of the Syndicates. Does that answer your question, Mr. Spiegel?"
Leon was pale as he answered. "I think that just about wraps it up, Villanova. Now get out of my room."
Villanova laughed.
"Get out," Leon hissed, taking a step forward.
She stood then, her hand briefly dropping to the grip of the gun at her belt. Leon tensed, but Villanova took her hand away after a moment.
"Very well," she said, straightening her shirt. She walked to the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. "Oh, Mr. Spiegel, I think it's only fair that you know you'll be playing bait for your friends on the Bebop as well. I've got a lovely little trap laid for them should they try and spring a rescue for you. There's no way out of this one."
"GET OUT!" Leon grabbed the teapot and flung it at Villanova's retreating figure. It shattered against the door just as Villanova pulled it shut behind her, splattering dark tea over the pristine white walls and carpet.
Leon sank to the couch, feeling utterly drained. Any way he looked at it, Villanova held all the cards. Leon didn't see much of a way out of the situation. And after Faye's little stunt in the casino, he wasn't sure what to think of the Bebop anymore. Did Faye even care about him? Was Ed still alive? Would Jet come for him? Surely Jet would come, even if Faye didn't. But if he did come, would he just get killed too? Villanova said she had a trap. And much as Leon wanted out of this hell, he didn't want to be the death of any of the Bebop crew.
Leon flopped back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling.
"Couldn't you have just left me a safe legacy, dad?" he muttered. "Would that have been too much to ask?"