Warning: This chapter contains definite talk of drugs and next chapters will contain drugs. So, read at own risk.
Chapter 4
Costa's 'office' was a joke, Schuldig thought as he descended the concrete stairs to the cellar of one of Tokyo's seediest night clubs. The steps led down a short concrete tunnel and the walls were lined with rusty pipes, water dripping off them in various places. There was a chill to the air until the telepath finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs, stopping infront of the door that was located there. Seriously, considering that the Italian controlled quite a large part of Tokyo's drug business, Schuldig would have thought he'd be doing better by now. But apparently nothing had changed from when the telepath had worked for Costa years before. Well, that could only work to his advantage.
After a brief moment of consideration, Schuldig opened the heavily scratched wooden door and stepped inside. The door creaked behind him and then slammed shut. Schuldig had barely a chance to take two steps down the corridor that lay beyond before two guards dressed in black suits and wearing dark shades came running towards him. They slowed down as they neared the telepath, obviously recognising him. That was very good, Schuldig decided. At least this meant they weren't as likely to give him trouble. The redhead had come unarmed. After all, it was commonly viewed as suicidal to enter Antonio Costa's territory armed. Schuldig thought that it really didn't matter whether he carried a gun or not. Costa was a cruel, sleazy bastard and nothing would stop him from killing those who got on his bad side. Schuldig prided himself on having managed not to piss the Italian off yet. Then again, he had not seen him in a few years.
"I need to talk to your boss," Schuldig told the guards in English. Thankfully they usually understood enough to know what he was asking for.
"The boss is in a meeting," one of the guards answered, his speech heavily accented. Schuldig smirked. Meeting, yeah right. Costa's meetings usually consisted of one of two things. He was either involved in a session of illegal gambling, or about to shatter someone's kneecaps ifor information. Either way, the German knew that he would have to wait. Costa hated to be interrupted when he was doing business.
"I'll wait," Schuldig decided.
The two guards shared a glance briefly and then, as if coming to a silent accord, placed themselves on either side of Schuldig and began to escort him to a room down the hall. They roughly shoved the telepath inside and locked the door behind him. Schuldig rolled his eyes. He was surprised they didn't handcuff him to the chair that stood infront of the worn wooden desk located in the centre of the small room. Behind the desk was another chair, a large leather armchair and various papers and pens littered the desk's surface. A gun lay disassembled.
Schuldig went to examine the weapon. As he had expected, it was broken, some vital parts missing. The redhead had figured as much. There was no way that Costa would leave a working gun lying around his office. Abandoning the disassembled gun, Schuldig let his gaze sweep the room. No window, of course. They were under ground. And no escape aside from the locked door. Typical. Costa was a careful man and Schuldig was sure that the walls were soundproof. No screams would reach outside of this room.
With a huff, Schuldig dropped into the chair on the visitors' side of the desk. He was exhausted and his head was killing him. His ribs still put him through some amount of pain and there was no change to be detected in the case of his missing telepathy either. Schuldig could either try to read people's thoughts and have millions of others' swarming his head to a point that made him pass out from the pain, or he could try his best to keep his mental shields intact. That, however, was becoming increasingly difficult as well. The telepath could definitely feel panic rising inside his mind in regards to this problem. Yet other things had to be taken care of first.
Having left Nagi at a temporary hiding place, Schuldig had decided to act on the half-formed plan that had begun to crowd into his mind. If all went well, he would have a job, well, a source of money, at least, soon and possibly a place for him and Nagi to stay at. Schuldig just hoped that Costa would be in a favourable mood. Doing this without his telepathy would be a bitch, Schuldig thought, but there was nothing he could change about that fact.
Looking about the place once more, the redhead realised that really nothing had changed. The place was still ugly as all hell and the portrait of some old, white-haired man that hung on the wall looked no better. Two cabinets on each side of the room made an idea creep into Schuldig's head. If everything was really still the way it had been when he'd been in here years ago, one of the cabinets' shelves would be stuffed with bottles of hard liquor.
Schuldig rose from the chair and headed for the cabinet closest to him. He pulled the intricate knob, but the doors would not move and inch. It had to be locked, Schuldig mused as his eyes fell on the ornate black lock. The telepath smirked. This would be easy, he realised and started to rummage in the pocket of his coat. Lock-picking wires were only one of the essentials he'd picked up during the stop at Schwarz's old flat.
Pulling out one of the wires, Schuldig bent the tip to resemble a hook and carefully inserted it into the lock. It took only a few well-rehearsed wriggles to elicit a satisfying click from inside. Schuldig grinned as he pulled the cabinet's door open and was met with a truly marvellous sight. The top shelf was packed with all sorts of liquor from all over the world. There was so much of it that Schuldig was sure that it would take Costa a long while to realise that any of it was missing. With that it mind, the redhead quickly grabbed two flask-sized bottles of clear vodka and stashed them away in the inner pockets of his coat. Painkillers were the only thing that could have made his small raid even better, but Schuldig wasn't about to push his luck. He carefully pushed the doors shut once more and heard the lock click neatly back into place.
"Mission erfolgreich," Schuldig murmured in German and went back to sitting in the chair, a bored expression immediately appearing on his face. He hated having to wait. Schuldig sighed.
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It took another half hour for Costa to finally appear. Schuldig stood up fast the moment he heard the door unlock at his back. Turning to face the entrance the telepath was met with the sight of Antonio Costa in person who was sporting a slightly insane grin and Schuldig was quite sure that the Italian had been smoking something more than just Sicilian cigars.
Costa stood about at least a foot and a half shorter than the German. He was a stout man, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. An anachronistic black frock coat completed the man's outfit. 'Penguin,' Schuldig's mind supplied unhelpfully and he had to clamp down on a snigger. But seriously, Costa hadn't changed much either. A little fatter, maybe, a little older, but time seemed to have frozen in this place. Or maybe three years in the life of an assassin were just far more fast-paced than three years in the life of a well-situated drug dealer.
"Ah, Schuldig, my friend," Costa exclaimed, he beady dark eyes, which seemed far too small for the man's round face, twinkling. "You look like hell."
Schuldig was hard put to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Well, such was Antonio Costa. Blunt and to the point and really, Schuldig couldn't blame him. He knew he looked far worse for wear and felt it too.
Costa laughed at the scowl that had settled on the telepath's face and ambled towards the large armchair on the far side of the desk. The contraption nearly seemed to swallow the short man.
"Come, sit, sit," Costa invited Schuldig and the telepath followed suit and sat once more in the previously abandoned chair.
"What can I do for you," the Italian then asked. Schuldig suddenly felt a lot more alert. This was the question he had been waiting for. He was aware that whatever he asked for, Costa would make him pay back threefold, but quite honestly, in his and Nagi's current situation, Schuldig was desperate. But at least the Italian seemed to be in a good mood.
"Well, just wondering if you had some jobs that need doing," Schuldig replied, almost casually. "And a place to stay, maybe?" He tried hard not to let any kind of emotion leak into his voice and thought that he was doing a good job of it.
Costa nodded quietly and slightly narrowed his eyes. "I see, I see," the man mused out loud. Even these few simple words were laced with a heavy Italian accent.
"And what is it, that you can do for me," he asked, but didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Are you still as sneaky as you used to be, boy?"
Once again, Schuldig was tempted to scowl. Costa never failed to treat him as if he were some stray, delinquent kid that he'd picked up on the streets. Schuldig had never bothered to let the Italian know that he was a highly trained assassin. It was an advantage he wasn't willing to give up.
"I am," Schuldig replied with a confident smirk. It was a lie, he knew, accompanied by a confidence he did not feel. Schuldig knew that without his telepathy he'd be missing a lot of his usual stealth. But as long as Costa didn't know that there would be no problem.
Costa smiled then. It was an ugly smile. "And still ready to do anything, I assume."
Schuldig nodded. He was loath to think that he had once again reached a state as desperate as the one he had been in when he'd first worked for the Italian.. He had been wandering the streets of Tokyo then, having escaped the clutches of Rosenkreuz academy for a few weeks only before he had been dragged back there. During that time, though, working for Antonio Costa, Schuldig had believed that he had possibly reached the lowest point, only to be rivalled by the living hell his life had been before SZ had found him and trained him to control his telepathy. But it was different now. Schuldig was now an adult and experienced in the cruel ways of the world of criminality. It also no longer just concerned him. He had to think of protecting Nagi and yes, to protect the teen Schuldig was prepared to do whatever Costa wanted him for. After all, without any papers and further connections, jobs like these would be the only ones the German could get.
"Very well, then," Costa said slowly, seemingly coming to an internal decision. "I need you to deal." Blunt and to the point again. "It's a difficult area. It's densely inhabited and any suspicious activities tend to get reported to the police before you know what is happening." Costa smirked and Schuldig didn't like it at all.
"I am sure, however," the Italian continued, "that you will be just fine manning this area. You are, as I remember, good at such things."
'Used to be,' Schuldig thought dejectedly. 'Used to be good at this.' Now, with his telepathy gone, this would be a hell of a lot more difficult. But there seemed to be no turning back now. Schuldig would just have to try and try to survive without being arrested.
It was, however, when Costa reached into the drawer and pulled out a small key, that Schuldig was sure that he'd be in much danger. Costa tore a strip off a sheet of paper and scribbled something on it with a black ink pen. He then handed the key and scrap of paper to Schuldig.
"You can use this apartment while you work for me," the Italian told the telepath.
"Thank you," Schuldig said simply as he accepted the key and address. He did not dare say more. This was all going way too well, but the telepath guessed that he would just have to be thankful for small mercies. He would think of consequences once they arose. Such was his nature, if he spared any thoughts on consequences at all. Besides, Schuldig knew that this was also a way for Costa to make sure that he knew where to find the redhead. Really, Schuldig knew he shouldn't be surprised.
"Come here shortly before dusk each night to get the goods," Costa instructed as he led Schuldig to the door. "I will instruct you on your area tomorrow night."
They said their goodbyes and Schuldig was once again escorted to the door leading outside by the two guards he had seen earlier. He was definitely glad to be leaving. Costa's underground office felt too confining.
Once outside, Schuldig expelled a breath he had not realised he'd been holding. Well, that had been satisfactory, he decided. He had secured a place for Nagi and himself to live and had a job. Illegal as it all might be, it was their only choice at the moment and really, Schuldig couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a legal job. In fact, he'd possibly never had one. Kicking his legs into gear, Schuldig slowly made his way towards where he'd left Nagi For now, the telepath decided, he'd just be glad about having somewhere to stay for the night.
German translation:
Mission erfolgreich = mission accomplished
A/N: I know, I know. You're all screaming for the Shu/Yohji action. Soon my dears, very soon. The first glimpse of Weiss will be in the next chapter, I promise. For now, please review.
