Chapter 18 (Stan Crow)
As she neared the launch cliff, Patience absently wondered several things. First, she wondered just how nervous she was making her new allies; there was a reason she'd convinced Hope and Optima to make the sales pitch to CAPR in her stead. Second, she wondered whether eight teenagers without the support of the powers-that-be would actually be able to fend off a legion of demonic monsters if it should come to that. Third, she wondered just how far Randolph would try to go tonight. Enticing him to spend alone time had been a snap, of course—she knew he was interested. He proved it, just then, by wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her closer.
"Why'd you pick this spot?" he asked as they stopped at the edge of the cliff, looking into twilight. "I can think of more secluded spots than the launch pads," he said against her neck, "if you know what I mean."
She knew exactly what he meant, but she also knew Team CAPR's leader would ensure Randolph was followed since he was the one who'd been seen with the glowing figurine. Team CAPR's tracker, Picton, possessed uncanny observational abilities. The fact that she could neither see nor hear him was simply proof of how skilled he was. But the sixth sense she'd developed on the streets of Fevoreaux told her he probably had a pretty good view of her little show.
She didn't trust Picton's judgment despite his abilities. Seeing wasn't the same as knowing what you were looking at. And that was why she had hit Randolph with a double helping of her charm and a few of the right poses—all seemingly natural, of course. She'd get more out of five minutes of discussion with Randolph than Picton would from five hours of surveying the kid.
And so she was here, letting Randolph think he had a chance. She sat patiently for an hour while he physically expressed his affection, feeling his hot, fetid breath in her hair and on her neck. His hands were on her knees for now, and he was spouting some drivel about how he'd been so afraid when Sadiyya shot her, and how he would have died if Patience had, blah, blah, blah. She responded with a lie about how she hated Ozpin for stripping her from her team—and Randolph—and throwing her in with a group of sissies. If only she could change teams again…
And then he said something interesting when he pulled away from a long kiss. "When we rule this school, it'll just be you and me, baby."
"And when will that be," she purred, playing her part. It was sickening how easy he was to manipulate, but now it was paying off.
"Tomorrow night."
Patience sat up straight. "Tomorrow?"
Randolph looked at her strangely, then blushed. "Oh, yeah. Um… this all sorta happened after you left. You know those plans we were making to take over the place? The day Ozpin stole you was the day we finally figured out how. We just wanted to make sure everything was set before we brought you in on it."
"And just what is 'it'?" she asked casually, walking her fingers up his arm and seeing him shudder.
"Let's not worry about that tonight," he said, upping his antics.
She wished he knew what a toothbrush was.
Gently shoving him away, she smiled impishly. "You can't just start to tell me and then stop. You know you never win this game. We both know what you want, and you know that I'll get what I want before you do in the end, so you might as well spill."
Randolph frowned and peered at her, then relented with a chuckle. "Too true. You're so easy and yet so hard. Alright. Here's the scoop." He laid out the whole plan—the way DSPR had found a way to control the Grimm, and how they would smuggle the whole army in in a rather clever way, dropping on Beacon when the school's guard was down and Ozpin was still away, growing more excited by the moment. He leapt to his feet and pulled a small knife, swinging it to punctuate his points. So like him to be knife happy.
Patience continued to play games with him, keeping him malleable and talking. And finally, as his explanation reached its climax, the idiot tripped on a rut and stumbled into Patience, the blade grazing her forearm. A line of fire shot through her wrist, and she instinctively clutched the wound before kicking Randolph in a spot he'd not miss. He doubled over.
"Way to go, Romeo," she said, grimacing at the pain.
"Why'd you have to go and kick me in the—"
"To make a point," she said, standing. "I think we'll have to finish this later after I get this cleaned up."
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook off the wash of dizziness she felt. Maybe Optima hadn't done quite as good a job as she'd thought.
"I want in," she said, once Randolph had calmed enough to be reasonable. "Let's do this."
She bid Randolph farewell at his door, and staggered back to her room. Everyone was asleep and she collapsed into her bed after cleaning and dressing her wound. It hurt far, far more than it should and her blood flow felt unusually hot and sluggish. The taste of bile rose in her mouth and she suddenly realized that, somehow, she had been the one to be played.
Poison. The knife. That jerk!
Falling out of bed, she stumbled toward Optima trying to call out her name; her voice refused to work. Instead the world went fuzzy and turned upside down, and suddenly she forgot what she was doing. Rational thought became nearly impossible.
The last thing she knew she was somehow outside, crawling into a dumpster where she fully intended to sleep until the end of time.