Author's Note: Hey guys, today I would like to introduce you to my latest OC, the enigmatic Mr. Romafellor. Tell me what you think of him and hopefully he doesn't sound like any of my other OC's from the past. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Warning: language, shounen ai
When the Hammer Falls
A sharp and annoying sound jolted Tsubarov out of his beauty sleep without warning and without mercy.
His eyes slowly opened and turned to glare at the source of the noise…his phone?
Frowning, he picked up the communication device and demanded, "What is it?"
A silent moment passed as he listened, his eyes suddenly widening.
"Say what?!" he nearly roared. Cutting off the person on the other side, he snapped, "I'm on my way; you'd better have a good explanation for this."
Slamming the phone down, he swore and cursed as he got out of his warm and comfortable bed and got ready prematurely for his day.
--
Duo tried to ignore the buzzing sound that had stealthily entered his unconscious and brought him out of his dreams. Damn it, what was it? He wanted sleep! What day was it anyway?
The surface upon which he was laying on began to rumble beneath him, insuring that he would not be falling off to dreamland anytime soon. Grumbling, he opened his eyes and immediately shut them as the morning light blinded him. Now that he was more aware of his surroundings, he recognized the dissonance that had woken him up as the T.V. but what the hell was it doing on anyway?
"Wakey, wakey, Short Stuff," a husky voice whispered in his ear. "I know you aren't asleep anymore. C'mon, I want you to see this."
Solo? What was he doing awake at this time of day? Was he crazy or something?
Opening his eyes again, this time slowly so that they adjusted to the light that drifted in from the window, he glared up at the blond whom he was laying on, explaining the rumbling from earlier.
"Look at the T.V." Solo instructed, a bemused look on his face.
Frowning, Duo did what he was told and looked at the appliance.
--
Tsubarov could hardly believe his eyes at the sight of what he saw.
There it was, the central offices of this branch of the Romafellor Corporation, in all its glory, covered in graffiti, toilet paper, and vandalism that encompassed not only the building but the property around it.
How…how could this have happened?! What had caused such an atrocity to occur in the first place?! How was it that the paid security force was suddenly as incompetent like the guards at the Texas Governor's mansion (1)?! No one could have missed anybody doing something like this!
And yet… the employees who had been here during night hours were unable to recall anything of importance nor the actual crime that had taken place while the rest of the staff had been at home during the night.
But that wasn't the worst of it. Somebody had taken the time to write messages in spray paint and other unknown materials, all of which was being broadcasted by the nearby media. All of those messages were not only derogatory but seemed to be pinning the blame of certain and recent events that had occurred globally on the company, some of which were actually true while others were exaggerations.
Nonetheless, it was bad for business, very bad. It was difficult work trying to prevent any of the nearby cameramen and photographers from getting shots of the defacements and getting the local policemen to help proved quite useless, especially since they refused to interfere with the media's First Amendment rights as the reporters were constantly proclaiming along with the phrase: "The people have a right to know!"
Getting into the building also proved quite frustrating as he had to show ID to show that he did in fact work here as well as pushing through the throngs of people that had crowded in front of the main entrance.
This was going to be a long day, he could feel it.
--
Disbelief.
That was the only word that could describe the emotions that were currently running through Duo's body. What he was seeing on the early morning news that always came on at the ungodly hour of six o' clock…it was just too unreal.
And ridiculous. Can't forget about that one.
He felt Solo chuckled, the vibration from the action rumbling his body and taking the braided one along for the ride. He had no doubt that Solo either knew something about this or was involved somehow. He was betting on both for some reason.
It wasn't just everyday that someone messed up one of Romafellor's main offices along with the surrounding area, you know.
"Alright, talk," he sighed.
"What makes you think I had anything to do with that?" Solo asked innocently.
Duo just gave him a look.
"Ok, you got me," Solo said, caving in. "I might know who did that."
"Might?"
"Uh…yeah…?"
Duo raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, I gave Mueller a call last night," Solo confessed. "All I did was ask him to do something to piss those guys off. That's it. End of story."
"Uh huh."
"What? You think I was there too or something?"
"Wouldn't surprise me."
"Now that hurts. I thought you trusted me."
"I do. It's just that I know you better than I trust you."
"If that's how you treat your boyfriends, I don't want to be your enemy."
--
The insides of the vandalized corporate building were absolute chaos. Employees weren't doing their jobs, instead taking this as an opportunity to gossip and ignore their everyday duties. That made it difficult for Tsubarov to make his way towards Dermail's offices were he had heard the man was currently at.
Reaching the doors that led straight to his superior, Tsubarov smoothed himself down, trying to destroy any evidence of the turmoil that he had just struggled through. Once he believed that he had taken care of the worst of the damage, he pushed open the doors and entered the office where he found the old man at his desk and not looking happy one bit.
Before Tsubarov could even utter one word, he was silenced by a glare leveled at him by Dermail. "Do not say one word about what's going on beyond those doors," he growled.
Tsubarov swallowed and nodded in understanding.
Dermail's anger was not appeased in the slightest. "Would you happen to know what the cause of this travesty is?" he demanded.
"No," he answered, sweating beginning to bead up on his brow, anxiety levels skyrocketing. "This is as much a shock to me as to everybody else!"
Dermail just snorted. "It's a surprise to us all, isn't it?" he said sarcastically. "It's obvious that somebody is trying to sabotage us."
"Do you think it could be the Winners?" Tsubarov suggested.
"No, it's not them," Dermail stated. "If it were, this would reflect badly on them and that would be bad for business. Anyway, you already told me about the senior Winner's consideration of the proposal."
"Maybe it's an inside leak, someone who doesn't want this deal to go forward," Tsubarov suggested next.
"While it does have merit, only the top executives know anything about that," Dermail replied. "None would leak such a thing, especially since they all have something to gain by having the deal go through—"
In the midst of his musing, the elder man was interrupted by the buzzing sound of the intercom on his desk, alerting him that his secretary needed to tell him something.
"What?!" he snarled as he pressed the speak button.
"Sir, you're needed on the twelfth floor," a nervous female voice answered him.
"What for?" Dermail demanded. "I'm busy as it already is!"
"Sir, Mr. Romafellor is the one who called for you."
That put a stop to Dermail's complaint. Shakily, he said, "I'll be right there."
Tsubarov swallowed again. Mr. Romafellor! Of course he would have heard about this by now! There were press outside, reporting anything and everything they could get their claws into. It was only logical that the head and owner of the entire corporation that was Romafellor would be told of this.
His eyes snapping up, Dermail glared at him. "You're coming with me, Dmitri," he snapped. "I am not going to that meeting alone."
--
The large board room held all important executives and officials of that operated Romafellor on a daily basis and all was silent. Fear and anxiety were the orders of this day and no one was immune from them.
Tsubarov found himself feeling relieved that he was not at the massive table but instead on one of the main chairs that lined the walls. Still, that relief was small and miniscule.
At the head of the table sat a man, one who time and age had been generous to as no facial wrinkles marred the smooth complexion of the man's face. Pure white hair was combed back conservatively, showing that the man was only starting to undergo the balding process but one would be hard-pressed to see that as he still had most of his hair intact. He was dressed in business attire, prim, pressed, straight, and not an inch out of place. Cold, hard, blue eyes gazed critically at each and every person in the room, keeping all in order and destroying any bravado that any could grasp hold of. Though not the tallest person (he was one of the physically smallest in the room) his presence enough was imposing, hanging over them all like the specter of death, just waiting to drop the axe onto the first unfortunate soul that dared to cross him.
This man was none other that the founder, owner, operator, and head of one of the largest firms in the world, Mr. Romafellor as all knew him, no other alias known.
There was no denying that Tsubarov was afraid. He had heard about what this man was capable of, both the facts and the rumors about him. This man was not afraid to have someone killed, even if it was just some spilled coffee on one of his many business suits as one rumor had it. There was no doubt in his mind that if he screwed up here, his death warrant would be signed.
Silence reigned as the entrance to the board room was shut. All knew that the meeting was now underway and the only person who was allowed to say anything was Mr. Romafellor and, currently, he wasn't talking. The blue eyes passed over everyone and Tsubarov felt their gaze pass over him. He shivered, not because he was cold but of the immense fear that radiated in his body.
The sound of a person clearing their throat attracted the attention of every single individual towards its source. The quiet yet sophisticated voice of Romafellor flowed into the silence instead of breaking it, leaving many to wonder if their boss was saying something or it was their imaginations.
"I do not know about the rest of you," the quiet voice spoke, "but when I woke up this morning, I expected it to be like the day before. I expected just the same routine that we have all followed day in and day out for how long? Years? Decades? Imagine how I personally felt when I turned on the morning news and find out that today was not going to be as simple as yesterday. Now I do not know about the rest of you, my esteemed colleagues, but the kind of surprise I felt was the kind that I only feel in certain circumstances. One is when I receive a surprise birthday party in my honor. Another is when a merger is successfully accomplished and just a little bit more money finds its way into my pocket. Another is when I find out that my grandchild, a little child of a mere eight years, gets the leading role as Peter Pan in his school's annual play. Now, if I am not mistaken, this current situation does not fit into any of the previous criteria, now does it?"
Not even for a second did Romafellor's voice change. It did not rise, it did not lower. It remained cool and calm yet each and every word uttered held more and more malice than the one before it. If not for the hygiene products that each person wore, the room would have filled with the stench of body odor as each man and woman's anxiety reached whole new levels.
"Now," Romafellor continued, "would someone, anyone, please, tell me…" As his voice drifted off, the tension in the room became so thick that it cut be cut with a butter knife.
Then the axe fell…with the force of a sledgehammer.
"WHY IN GOD'S NAME HAS ONE OF MY BUILDINGS BEEN COVERED IN HOOLIGANS' PAINT AND PUT ON THE SIX A.M. NEWS?!"
With the exception of Romafellor, everyone in the room was wide-eyed, trembling in fear at their boss' demonstration of heated anger. None wanted to be the one who spoke up first, seeking death written in the now fiery eyes of the old man.
It seemed that Romafellor wasn't expecting any responses as he continued, "This is completely unacceptable. No one here can give me a satisfactory answer or even the name of a culprit. Remind me why I pay you people again."
They all remained silent as each and every one of them struggled to find something to say that could appease the man. None could.
Romafellor didn't say anything else, though. He just sat back as his anger continued to smolder, shinning brightly for everyone to see and take heed of.
"What if we just ignore this?" a shaky voice suggested into the din of silence.
"Excuse me?" Romafellor said, eyes snapping over to the poor soul.
"What if this is just something to knock us off our horse?" the person said, continuing even though he was sure that he had just signed his own death warrant. "WEI will be looking at us closely, to see if we do anything to make them not want to agree to our proposal."
Romafellor stared at the unknown man but this time there was a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. The tension in the room lessoned though all were on their guard, waiting for the next cataclysm of fury to rain down upon them.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Romafellor spoke. "That is a valid point. We can't afford for Winner to refuse the proposal, not when there is so much to gain. He would be looking for our usual reaction to make a case against refusing."
The men and women in the room were on the verge of letting out breaths of relief as it looked like the worst was over. However, it was still too early for the celebrations to start. The meeting was not over yet and wouldn't be until Romafellor himself declared it over.
"Durban," Romafellor commanded, eyes shooting over to Dermail. "Who did you put in charge of the proposal?"
Swallowing, Dermail answered, "Dmitri Tsubarov."
"Where is he currently?" Romafellor demanded.
Not answering verbally, Dermail pointed straight at Tsubarov, who froze up like a deer staring at headlights.
"Stand up Tsubarov," Romafellor commanded. "I want to see your face."
With no other choice, Tsubarov stood up, wishing wholeheartedly that he hadn't been the one chosen to see this deal through.
"You know what's at stake, correct?" Romafellor questioned. Nodding, Tsubarov waited for the old man to continue. "I want you to listen very carefully to what I am going to tell you. I want this proposal to pass by any means necessary. I don't care what you have to do to accomplish it, just do it. Understand?"
Tsubarov nodded, adding a "Yes sir," to the action.
"For your sake, you better," Romafellor stated wryly. "You don't want to know what I'll do to you should you fail."
At that moment, Tsubarov had never been as terrified in his life.
(1) For those of you who live in Texas, or in the Central Texas area, you know what I'm talking about. For those that don't, look it up. I'm just too lazy right now to explain the meaning of this.