Chapter 6
The sight of the warehouse had never been so welcoming, and after the sheer chaos that had been his day so far, Squall desperately needed the refuge. Once inside he could sit in his room, break open the case, then divide up the bounty between him and his friends. After that, he could sit and metaphorically bang his head against the wall as he tried to convince himself that they weren't all in deep shit, and that they could easily weasel their way out of this whole stupid situation.
After all, there was no way to be certain that those killers were after Rinoa. It was entirely possible that Caraway may just have pissed of some very dangerous people, a definite possibility if the ex-general been hiding out in the slums for long. He doubted it was true, but it was possible. It was just too much of a coincidence for comfort. His best hope was that the culprits hadn't noticed the gang leave, or knew what had happened to the girl.
Squall frowned. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility. After all, there was no one there waiting for them when they found the bodies, and he was certain they hadn't been followed back. If they really did want to find out who had Rinoa, why not wait at the scene of the crime and ambush them? Unless this was a warning, of course – but a warning for what? To hand the girl over? To whom? Not to dig any deeper? Into what? Why would he want to dig any deeper? There was some seriously weird shit going down in the slums this week, and weird was never a good thing in his line of work. Much better to keep his nose out of it.
Maybe it was a warning, just aimed at someone completely different. There were just so many questions and possibilities to consider, and he wanted no part of any of it.
"Squall!" He looked up to see Nida running towards him, and he did not like the look his face. Something about it told Squall that his day was only going to get worse.
He halted out of earshot of the warehouse. Quistis stopped beside him as they waited for Nida to reach them.
"There's someone waitin' fer ya," the younger gang member panted, coming to a halt in front of his leader.
"Tell them to get lost." Squall started to move past the Nida, but the boy interrupted him.
"One problem, Boss. It's Almasy."
Squall swore curtly. He didn't need this, not now; the timing could not possibly be worse. Inspector Seifer Almasy of the Esthar Metropolitan Police could be … annoying. He was one of the few cops who actually bothered to press charges against gangs and the bigger-fish criminals if he could. He couldn't just be bought off and he wasn't the type to be intimidated, but at the same time he wasn't averse to stooping to dealing with Squall's mob. SeeD didn't work with Seifer, but sometimes a blind eye was turned to the gang's activities if it was to the Inspector's advantage. Their relationship was complicated and Squall didn't feel like dealing with it now.
"What's up?"
The trio turned round to see Irvine's group quickly approaching them, the cowboy shooting them curious glances while Selphie bounced along beside him. Behind them Rinoa looked at her feet, her eyes distant.
"Seifer's here," Squall responded, shifting his eyes from the girl to the tall man who raised his eyebrows and titled back his hat.
"What's he doin' 'ere?" the cowboy wondered, looking slightly baffled.
They turned to Nida who shrugged. "Won't say, will 'e?"
Of course he wouldn't. Shrugging the backpack from his shoulders, Squall threw the heavy object to Selphie.
"Put that in my room. Go 'round the back, so you won't be seen."
She grinned at him. "Scared Seifer will find out?"
He glared at her, but her grin never faded. "It's none of Seifer's business, he ain't SeeD. He finds out, then someone else will find out – and that person might just have been the one who made that mess in the room. You feelin' lucky?"
She looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I think I'll pass."
She never sobered up, always keeping that bright attitude in place, but he knew she understood. He didn't think she'd stop being upbeat, not even if he shot her several times. She'd probably just leap up and say that she'd always wanted to see if you could get bullets out with a magnet. Didn't mean that she didn't take serious events to heart, though.
"Good. Then take that," he pointed to his bag, "to my room and that," he pointed to Rinoa, "to her room."
"You think we have to hide both?" Quistis cut in. "He'll just assume we have a new gang member, if he notices."
"I'm not a 'that'." Every head turned to Rinoa. She stared down at the ground, eyes far away but her voice was strangely present.
"Though' ya were gettin' rid o' her?" Nida muttered to Selphie, his expression mixed between confusion and curiosity.
"Change of plans," Selphie whispered back.
Squall ignored all of them, not admitting that Rinoa was right. He skirted around the issue by answering Quistis instead, jerking his thumb at their unwanted guest.
"You gonna be the one to explain her away to Seifer, then?"
The blonde gave him a 'good point' look before turning to the other girl, a small smile in place.
"I'm sorry, you're right. Just wasn't thinkin'."
Selphie looped arms with the darker haired girl, pulling her away from the others and towards the back of the warehouse. "Come on, Princess. Let's get ya ta bed, eh?"
Squall turned his head away from them. He couldn't deny that he felt sorry for the girl; she'd been through hell for years, only to get another shock that had torn her world apart again. He couldn't imagine what she had to be going through, but he tore his mind away from it as he began making his way toward the main entrance. It wasn't his problem; he had more important things to deal with, and he certainly wasn't going to play therapist for her.
He stepped inside the SeeD base, the others close behind him. The large threshold led them straight into the forward loading area, or what had once been a forward loading area. Now it was the main gathering area for the gang to talk, hang out, and drink. The latter was evident by the large number of empty bottles and cans lying around from the previous night. It was a large room, made more so by a few collapsed and demolished walls, which were scattered with cushions or blankets to make comfortable seats. Oil drums and fire-proof containers stood in strategic places around the room that would be lit at night to provide heat and light while their power batteries were too low to provide the building with electricity. Now, however, large windows allowed the sunlight to stream in and illuminate the room, clearly showing the graffitied walls, band posters, and mismatched furniture scattered around the rooms. Cushions, sofas, blankets, and tables had all obviously been found at random points in random places and brought here for the comfort of the occupants. It wasn't tidy by any means, but it was mostly clean and there was a pleasant lived-in feel that made it a home. It was normally a lively place when filled with people, but now the air was tense with barely suppressed aggression as the gang stood silently around the edges, their eyes trained to the heart of the room.
In the centre of the disorderly room three comfortable sofas had been pulled together, a low table standing between them. It was where Squall and his close friends would normally sit, but now Seifer was sprawled in the middle seat, leaning back with his feet on the table and his arms resting on the back, looking utterly at home and completely unaware of the tension. Behind him stood his two loyal sidekicks, Fujin and Raijin. None of the trio were in their uniforms, but that was nothing new; Squall didn't even think he'd ever seen Seifer in his police garb. Raijin stood with his arms crossed, waiting for something to happen and trying not to look put off by the current situation. Fujin cast a wary eye round the room, the distrust clear in her single blue orb as she scanned for danger. Well, she'll find plenty of it, Squall thought sardonically.
He'd heard many stories about how she'd lost her left eye, but he only believed one such story to be the truth. As a policewoman on her beat, she had witnessed a gang up to no good – perhaps looting a shop, or beating up some kid. Who knew? She arrested the boys and, having caught them red-handed, managed to successfully press charges with Seifer's help. The only problem was that the gang the youths belonged to wasn't very happy about their friends being sent to the locker. The next week, as she entered her apartment, she was ambushed by their thugs. They held her down, kicking and screaming, as the leader took out a knife and carved out her left eye. She was just lucky that Seifer had appeared before they could move onto her other one, and that his time on the Force had left him sufficiently paranoid to go armed at all times. He had shot the three thugs in record time, before helping his friend to one of the suburb hospitals where the conditions were passable rather than vile slum ones. By the end of the week the rest of the gang was either in jail or dispersed across the slums, and Seifer's career and reputation were on the rise. Rumours were that the woman's strange speech patterns were a result of trauma from the event.
The tension in the room lessened slightly as Squall strode across the room, Seifer smirking up at him. "Squall! How ya doin', ole buddy?"
Nida slipped off to the edge while Quistis and Irvine followed on their leader's heels, coming to a stop by the table where Seifer rested his feet.
"I ain't your buddy," Squall drawled. "What are you doing here?"
"Cheery as ever, I see. I'm gonna have to improve that bedside manner of yours one of these days."
Irvine raised an eyebrow. "Plannin' on bein' in bed with him soon?"
The inspector smirked, indicating to Quistis with a jerk of his head. "I'd rather be in bed with her."
"And I'd rather fuck a dog," Quistis snarked back without hesitation, curling her lips into a smirk of her own.
A snigger swept through the room, and Seifer's expression twisted into an angry scowl. Squall did not join in the banter, however. As funny as it would be to watch Quistis run verbal circles round the blond man, he really wasn't in the mood for it today. This whole visit felt wrong, somehow, and it had him on edge. Seifer never came here. If he wanted to see Squall, he always came to the club – at least there, it felt less like throwing himself into the lion's den. It didn't make sense for him to suddenly change his strategy, and although he would never admit it, Squall was worried.
"What do you want?" His question cut off any retort on Seifer's lips.
The inspector looked at him, his grin returning. "A talk."
Well, he didn't think the blonde Inspector had come to ask him out for coffee and a film. "About what?"
"Last night, a club used by a gang called the Sewer Rats was attacked and set on fire."
Squall was relieved when his friends didn't react. "So?"
"So, why'd you do it?"
"Why'd you think it was us?"
"That particular gang recently come into possession of some pretty fancy security tech," Seifer explained, "and it was wired all through their club. You lot don't like them much, and you're one of the only gangs I know of that could pull off a job that complex without getting caught."
"I'd be careful," Irvine murmured by his ear, "that's a compliment. He'll be askin' you to dinner next."
Quistis coughed over her laugh and Squall ignored the both of them. "You think it's us because someone got through the security? Sounds like you wanna be looking for mercs."
"Why would someone bother hiring mercenaries to take down a gang club? Gangs do their own dirty work."
"Why would I want to attack a club with a million cameras in it?"
Seifer's smirk grew, as if he'd actually managed to catch Squall out. "Who said anything about security cameras?"
Squall gave him a level look, biting his tongue against the blunter of the two comebacks that came to mind. "You said 'fancy security'," he quoted, speaking slowly, as though to a stupid child. "Cameras are basic. It's called common sense."
"Don't worry Seifer," Quistis added, "If you carry on accusing us for every crime you're landed with, you may get it right one day."
"INSPECTOR!" Fujin ground out over the chuckles circulating the room.
"That's right, it's Inspector Almasy to you," the blonde retorted.
"Of course, Seifer," Quistis repeated sweetly. "Whatever you say."
"If that's all, then you can go waste someone else's time." Squall started to turn away from the policeman, but Seifer's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"I'm not going to arrest you for getting rid of a few delinquents, Squall. Not if you can give me something in return."
"Fine, but you've got nothing on me. I'd be out in an hour."
Perhaps it was due to the obvious truth behind that statement that Seifer ignored his comment, however infuriating it may have been. "I want to know what was 'round the back of the club."
Behind him he could sense Quistis stiffen, forcing him to answer quickly in the hopes they wouldn't notice her reaction. "Alleyway, I'd guess."
"I mean in the back rooms. We found two bodies in one, and someone had made sure we couldn't ID them. I want to know who they were and what they were hiding there."
"Sounding more and more like you're looking for mercs. I hear Ritch and his lot have been doing well, why don't you ask them?"
The blonde man watched his expression, trying to detect that hint of a lie that would give the game away. Squall met his gaze, not flinching as he reached inside, pushing down the nagging nerves, to maintain his annoyed mask. Either this was merely a good guess on Seifer's behalf (and it wouldn't be the first time; miracles happened, after all), or someone had tipped him off to the suspicious goings on in the back room of the club. There was no way that the other man could have detected anything from what they had left behind, especially not Rinoa's existence.
So why was he asking? Seifer wasn't the most subtle person in the world; he preferred a heads-on approach to things. Asking when he knew the answer wasn't like him, but then, if he didn't know about Rinoa, why was he even asking about what was back there in the first place? It couldn't be because of Dr. Odine, because he'd already stated that the bodies couldn't be identified. No, there was something else to this, but he was beginning to suspect that Seifer had been left in the dark as much as Squall had been with Caraway.
"Would you rather do this in an interrogation room?" Seifer asked smoothly.
Irvine burst out laughing. "Watch out, he's coming on strong. I think he jus' wants to get ya in some handcuffs."
Seifer glared at the cowboy, his irritation steadily growing. "Shut it Kinneas, or I'll drag you in as well."
"No thanks, man. I don't bend that way."
"Looks like we really are going to have to take you both in then."
Squall crossed his arms. "I'd like to see you try."
Fujin and Raijin shared a look and moved, but the moment they did every gang member present reached for their weapons. Squall couldn't resist the feeling of smug satisfaction when the officers were forced to stop in the face of twenty guns, their owners ready and willing to fire. And there were some mean-looking firearms there, too. Gang members had a tendency to customise their weapons, and SeeD were no exception to the rule.
"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," Seifer stated, looking utterly unconcerned.
There was something about the complacency in the Inspector's voice that made Squall's anxiety skyrocket. It wasn't hollow conceit, or false bravado; they were both far too recognisable to miss. No, Seifer had a trump card he had been holding back, something that would bring him out on top.
"I've gone up a bit in the world, you see," he continued as he reached into his coat and pulled out a thin black billfold, which he tossed to Squall. The gang leader caught it easily at arm's length, studying it curiously. It looked just like the billfold every other Inspector and Detective in the city used to house their police badges. Not understanding the point of all this, he flicked it open.
His stomach dropped at the sight of the object in his hands, and he couldn't help his eyes flying wide, his breath catching as his heart began to race. He didn't need to see the lettering stamped across the top; the crest that he knew all too well drew his eyes in and told him everything he needed to know. The blazing silver eight-point star was gone, along with the black circle with the Moon of Esthar in the centre. Esthar Metropolitan Police was no longer scrawled around the edge in blue. The star in its place was golden; the Moon of Esthar was still present, but it sat over the centre of a gun crossed with the Estharian Crescent Scythe (the handle in the centre on the head and the blade on the outside; a weapon of war, not agriculture). The scroll that sat below the guns and star boasted the motto 'Strength through Justice' – a pretentious motto, in his humble opinion. It was the engraved banner at the top of the badge, however, that confirmed his fears. It was stamped with three simple words: Military Investigation Unit. Seifer had sold himself to the army, and by the looks of things, Fujin and Raijin had followed.
He heard Quistis' sharp intake of breath and Irvine's muttered curse over his shoulder, pulling him back to the present enough to set his mind straight.
"As you can see, shooting me would be a very bad ide –"
He was cut off when his badge landed in his lap.
"Get out." Squall's voice was clam and sure, with a firm edge that nobody missed.
"Not a smart move, Squally-boy," Seifer murmured. "Having ties to the military would be good for you and your sorry lot, you know. It's simple. You give me a hand, tell me what was back there and what you did with it, and I'll make sure –"
Squall rested his foot against Seifer's legs and roughly shoved them off the table, effectively ending Seifer's speech for the second time. "I said get out. We don't deal with dogs or sellouts."
"What was it you were sayin' about fucking a dog?" Irvine murmured to Quistis in an undertone. Despite the uneasy situation, there was no denying the grin on his face.
"Shut up, or I'll make sure you never fuck again," Quistis muttered back.
Seifer's eyes narrowed. Slowly placing his feet on the ground, he stood, glaring at the gang leader as they stood a foot apart, eye-to-eye. If the room was tense before, it was nothing compared to now. It seemed almost to take physical form, making the air was so thick that it felt difficult to breath. Squall was very, very aware of how no one else moved as the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the penny to drop, be it for better or worse. A wrong step, a little push too far, and there could be a backlash that would likely end them all. The only thing that calmed him, let him keep his cool so easily, was one simple piece of knowledge: there was absolutely nothing Seifer could do with his fancy new badge. Not yet, anyway, and definitely not with only two enforcers to back him up.
No one spoke, no one moved or lowered their weapons, but there was a definite change in the air. Seifer wasn't going to back down, not that easily, but then neither was Squall. The gang leader breathed evenly, trying to calm his heart and steel his nerves. Better to annoy Seifer a little, than be at the mercy of the military where the gang would be more of a liability than of use. Better to establish the new status quo now, before Seifer had any real power to make Squall sorry for shunning him.
"You're making a big mistake," Seifer stated, and Squall didn't have to concentrate to hear the threat in his voice. "We can do this nicely and you can get something out of this, or I can make life really hard for you."
"Go to Hell."
Seifer was silent, trying to stare Squall down. He had a sudden feeling that the Inspector was going to try and follow through on his threat and drag him into an interrogation room, only this time it wouldn't be in a police station. Squall returned Seifer's stare, blocking out the crowd around them, the focus helping him to sideline everything but his resolve. He wasn't going with Seifer, not to an army facility. He'd be damned if he was going to let them dig their claws into him, not after he'd been so careful about staying under their radar, and if he had to shoot Seifer to do it then so be it.
He wouldn't be the one to do the shooting, though; one of those twenty guns his men were currently aiming at the Inspector's head would do it for him. They were ready, just waiting for Seifer to make his move, and the man wouldn't disappoint. He breathed in, ready to speak and call the gang's bluff, before opening his mouth and –
The shrill screech of a mobile phone cut through the room, and the tension snapped like an old rubber band. A couple of the youths around the edge jumped from the unexpected noise, and the air lightened, that horrible heaviness evaporating as suddenly as it had formed. It was as if a noose had been relaxed around their necks, making the air easier to breath. Cursing silently, Seifer reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"What!" he snapped, looking away from Squall. He was silent for a moment, before swearing violently. "Got it, fine. I'll be right there." He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, before signalling his two enforcers. "We're moving out."
With a wave of his hand he indicated that Raijin and Fujin should leave, but the military dog didn't move to follow them. Instead he stepped towards Squall, speaking just loud enough for his adversary to catch his words.
"I'm a sellout?" he hissed. "I've got a once in a lifetime chance to get what I want, Squally-boy. So fuck you, and fuck what you think."
"They'll chew you up and spit you out again," Squall warned. "Trust me."
"We'll see about that, Leonhart. You may be happy to live in this fucked-up world, but I'm not and I will do something about it." The man spun round and marched after his lackeys, leaving the gang to their lives.
"What did he say?" Quistis said as soon as the door closed. The last of the tension drained from the room and the occupants visibly relaxed, holstering their guns. Slowly, the ambient noise level returned to normal as the gang lit cigarettes and opened drinks, the previous encounter now merely another entertaining memory.
"He was just being Seifer," Squall replied vaguely.
"So Seifer's a dog, huh," Irvine mused. "Guy's a bastard, but I didn't see that coming."
"What now?" Quistis crossed her arms, looking to her leader.
"Nothing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"
"I don't think he actually knows what he's looking for. He's just sniffing around for leads that he's not even sure exist. As long as we keep it business as usual, he won't know the difference. Just don't talk about Rinoa, or he might make a link." Speaking of the girl, he needed to decide what to do with her. He turned away; he really needed longer to think about this mess and sort it out in his mind.
"Maybe Almasy's right," a voice called from across the room, not quite confident in her words.
Squall didn't even bother turning as he replied, "I'm not whoring us out to the dogs."
"But bein' wit' the army might be sweet, though." He recognised the girl's voice now. Chantelle, she'd been with them maybe a year now. "'Member how the Black Kings lived?"
He cocked his head far enough to look at the brunette. "Remember how that ended?"
"Yea', bu' we 'ave you, don' we?"
There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.
Squall turned around, his face stony as he looked around the room, several street-hardened youths ducking their heads to avoid his gaze. "We don't deal with the army or its dogs. We keep our business to ourselves." His voice dropped an octave, becoming genuinely frightening. "It will remain that way, too, we clear? Anyone who stabs me in the back will wish the dogs had got them after I'm finished with them. No one mentions Rinoa, and no one speaks to Almasy."
Having made his point deadly clear, he left everyone to stew over his words, heading to the corner stairs rather than the main ones. Let them think the implications of his words over and imagine what would happen if they crossed him. It would drive the temptation from their minds. At least, it had always done so in the past. No reason that should have changed recently.
He was halfway up the corner spiral staircase when Irvine and Quistis caught up with him, the woman speaking up as soon as she was close.
"Why d'you think Seifer sold himself out? What's the attraction in bein' a dog?"
"Who knows, or cares," Squall replied evenly, already tired of the discussion. "If he wants to be pissed on from above, that's his problem."
"Got in kinda quick though," Irvine commented. "Never seemed all that eager to join up before, and now he's on their payroll? Just straight in like that." He snapped his fingers. "Didn't even have to do basic training. Man, the regular troops must hate him."
Quistis picked up his train of thought. "He's from these parts, too – slum dwellers never get promotions like that. Never. And Seifer's gotta be in pretty deep if he's carrying out actual military investigations on his own."
They were right. In no time at all Seifer had gone from an Inspector on the beat into the special military ranks and that was just … impossible. Especially for someone from this neighbourhood. An inner city police officer? Sure, but not an officer from the slums.
With Seifer in the military, he was going to have to cut off all ties as soon as possible. It was only made worse by the fact that Seifer was obviously following Rinoa's trail, which meant that the military were interested in her. Evidently Odine's work was much more important than any of them had realised. How long could they stay out of sight?
After feedback saying one of my scenes in the last chapter was a bit flat, I've tried to improve on that this chapter…don't know if it worked though.
Quick thanks to InstigateInsanity, who beta this fic for me, he added some great lines to this (the "What was it you were sayin' about fucking a dog?" exchange between Irvine and Quisitis) and added a lot of tweaks to this and the other chapters.