Chapter Two
Cloud was awake by the time Sephiroth returned to the office. He was sitting up on the couch, leaning against the plush backing as he went through the rest of the file's contents. As the door opened, he raised blue eyes to meet Sephiroth's irritated green gaze.
"Where were you?" he asked.
Sephiroth grunted. "I informed you before I left that I was going to the park, but you promptly went back to sleep afterwards," he said.
"The park?" Cloud lifted an eyebrow. "What would you want there? You're pretty big for the swingset."
Sephiroth ignored his friend's sarcasm. "A woman from one of our departments informed me through email that something illegal is taking place here at the company," he said, removing his gloves. "I went to meet her at the park because she would only talk about it in person, and she didn't want to come here for fear of being seen. Unfortunately, the criminals still got to her first."
Now Cloud's eyes narrowed. "She's dead?"
"Badly beaten. They tried to make it look like a mugging." Sephiroth sank into his chair, still wearing his coat. "All she managed to tell me was 'Smugglers.'"
Cloud set the folder aside, leaning forward. "So someone's doping up thanks to stuff found in our shipments?" he said, a bit of anger flashing through his eyes.
"I don't know what kind of smugglers they are, or even whether they're sending or receiving these shipments." Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "And they took the woman's identification. Right now I don't have any idea who she is."
"And you'll have to go through the records of everybody in every department?" The very thought made Cloud's stomach drop. It was already so late. If they began such a monumental task, they could be here until dawn. Angeal had already gone home to help with things there. Other than Cloud and Sephiroth, the only people who should be in the building by now were the security guards and the janitors.
. . . Though that employee had not wanted to come to Sephiroth's and Cloud's office because she had been afraid that she would be seen. Was that only because she believed she had been followed, or had she thought the smugglers were still in the building? Maybe one of the security guards or janitors was involved in the plot. They would let the other crooked workers carry on with their work at night and not report them. Even if the others were not currently at Jenova Corp, such a contact as a sentry or a cleaning person could easily see the honest employee enter and prevent her from getting to Sephiroth. Obviously someone had already done that.
". . . I'll need to start," Sephiroth said at last. He was already booting up the computer. "Luckily, the master computer at home also has the information. We won't have to stay here all night."
Cloud stood up, stretching to get the cricks out of his back before moving to his own desk and computer. "I'll help," he said, pressing the button on the hard drive. "But what if these creeps have already erased her from the database?"
Sephiroth had certainly considered the possibility. And it only served to make him further annoyed. "Then we'll have to wait until she can tell us who she is," he said.
"And hope she doesn't get amnesia," Cloud muttered.
A pause. "That isn't funny."
"It's not trying to be," was the answer.
The room was dim, lit only by a bare bulb of low wattage hanging from the ceiling. It was also sparsely furnished, consisting of little more than a cheap bed with a nightstand to the side. There was not even a window.
The sole sentient occupant was sitting on the cot, leaning forward to examine the contents of a crate. It appeared to be nothing other than a standard shipment of state-of-the-art two-way radios. A confused frown graced the man's features. Lifting out one of the devices, he removed the battery cover. Glittering gems caught the thin rays of light. They were nestled inside the space where the batteries would go.
"How intriguing," he mused. "So this is how they've been smuggling precious stones into and out of the country. I wonder if they have any amethysts?" Which was quite a random thought. Why would he specially care about amethysts?
And he continued to say "they", even though they had informed him that he sanctioned the operation. His company was supposedly the perfect front.
But he did not feel greed as he studied these gems; there was only a vague interest, and somewhere inside, annoyance and anger. He did not like that his company was being used in this way. There was no purpose in it for him. His goals were much more vast and great . . . whatever they were. He remembered that much.
He pushed his glasses up as they slipped down again. The simple fact was, he did not trust these people. They claimed to have rescued him when a cruel man from their rival company Jenova Corp had pushed him over the edge of a cliff. Somehow that did not sound right in his mind. And they also said that he was the president of their own company, Fragmented Triangle. He believed that, but from the way these people acted it seemed as if they had told him solely to manipulate him. They wanted to make him believe that he wanted this operation to continue, because otherwise they knew he would try to stop them.
And he would much prefer to stop them. But there was little he could do in here, which was where they were keeping him "so that Jenova Corp would think him dead." More likely it was another level of their manipulation. They would keep him where he had no knowledge of what was really happening, and when they no longer needed him, they would kill him for real.
He was going to have to escape. He had known it for some time, but previously he had not been strong enough to try. It would be different tonight. He had been gathering his energy all day for the occasion.
The door opened. A tall, muscular man was standing in the doorway, regarding the scene with satisfaction. "How does this meet your approval, sir?" he asked, with thinly-veiled politeness. He was one of the masterminds behind the operation, though not the one claiming to be second-in-command. But of all the unsavory people, this one was among the least trustworthy.
The bespectacled man rose, slipping the battery cover back on the communication device. "It's really quite ingenious," he replied, playing up the act he had been putting on since awakening to this farce. "I'm impressed with your abilities to carry out my past orders. In my current state, I'm really not in any condition to help you at all."
"Not a problem, sir," the smuggler answered, stepping further into the room. He was so tall that he was in danger of bumping his blond crew-cut against the dangling lightbulb. "You gave your orders so good that we didn't need to go over anything again."
"How refreshing to hear," said the first, depositing the walkie-talkie into his pocket. "Then my services really aren't needed, are they, good sir?"
Before the other could respond, a fist connected with his jaw. The blond stumbled, crashing back against the wall. As he slipped dazedly to the floor, his attacker ran past into the hallway, pulling the door shut after him. He would lock it for good measure. Not that it would really keep such a strong man away for long; it could easily be broken in.
His gaze darted up and down the hallways. For now they were empty. He would not declare himself free until he ran out into the night air, but it was a start. Picking a path, he began to run.
Zack was reclining on one of the soft couches in the living room, his arm stretched out on the top of the furniture. He stared off at the open window, looking at the vacant house across the street without really seeing it. He was troubled tonight. Once again, Seph and Cloud had not made it home in time for dinner with the rest of the family. Aerith was keeping their shares warm in the oven.
What bothered him was that it was taking so much longer for them at Jenova Corp lately because he was not there to help with the workflow. Doing some stuff at home did not get all that much accomplished in the big picture. They were swamped, and Zack was stuck at home because of that spill over the cliff.
He was really okay; the worst was mending. He had been extraordinarily lucky in the fall. Other than some bad cuts and bruises, there was nothing wrong. No broken bones, or anything that would require a lot of physical therapy, or anything else serious. He had said it was probably the old SOLDIER reflexes that had saved him. Aerith insisted that while it was probably that, too, it was also a miracle.
Well, miracle or not, he was ready to get going. When Seph and Cloud got back, he was going to announce that he was going in to work tomorrow. And he would not take No for an answer!
A light flashing across the street brought his attention back to the present. What was that? It had looked like it was coming from inside the vacant place. No cars had come down the street, so it could not have been a reflection from someone's headlights. Now it was gone. Wait . . . there it was again, in an upstairs window this time. Before, it had looked like it was in the living room on the main floor.
Frowning, Zack swung his legs over the side of the couch as he began to push himself upright. He reached for the lamp as he went, switching it off. Then he made his way to the overhead light switch, flipping it off as well. Now that it was pitch black, he went over to the window. All was dark again.
But he had not been seeing things. He knew it! So what was going on? There should not be anything in there worth stealing. The previous owners had cleared out a month ago. They had been loading stuff into a big moving van for hours. And the For Sale sign had come down when someone had bought the place. Most likely one of those investors, since nobody had moved in since. What was weird now was that there was no car parked over there. Zack had been in the living room for ages, doing work at first, then playing a game with Marlene and Denzel, and he had come back again after dinner. It had been the same each time--no cars or people around. Yet there had been a light.
"Goodness, what are you doing in the dark?"
He whirled at Aerith's voice. She was standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe. With the light at her back her expression was not visible, but Zack did not have to see it to know she was puzzled.
"There's somebody over at the vacant place!" he said, pointing out the window. "I saw a light over there a couple of times."
She walked into the room. "It's probably just the man who bought it," she told him. "He's been over there several times this week."
"Yeah, but he always has his car!" Zack protested. "He doesn't seem to live close by. And there hasn't been any car there all day!"
"My, you've been busy today," she said, shaking her head. Reaching for the switch, she turned it back on. "That's better," she declared with a smile, as light flooded the room.
Zack sighed. There would probably not be any more lights over there. Maybe the person had even seen Zack switching the lights off here and had realized he was watching. He grabbed the dangling rope, pulling on it to close the curtains.
"Do you think someone might be trying to rob the house?" Aerith asked, seeing that he was still concerned.
"I wondered," Zack admitted, "but I don't know what there'd be to steal!" He threw his hands in the air in helplessness.
Aerith frowned. "Maybe we should call the police," she suggested. "It's better to be safe than sorry."
"Yeah . . ." Zack ran a hand through his hair. "I'd feel pretty silly if it really was the owner poking around in there, but that'd be better than if I do nothing and then find out the place did get robbed." With that he crossed the room to the telephone. A while back, the local precinct had sent out stickers for all the residents to put on their telephones. The stickers featured the local police phone number. After glancing at it, Zack began to dial.
Aerith stood by, waiting with crossed arms until Zack replaced the receiver in its cradle a few minutes later. "Are they going to send someone?" she asked.
Zack nodded. "The desk sergeant seemed pretty interested when I mentioned the lights, but he wouldn't say why," he blinked.
Aerith moved forward, laying her hands on his shoulders. "Oh well, it's probably police business," she said lightly. "Let's not worry about it. If you come back to the couch, I'll give you a massage." She began to try to steer Zack towards the couch.
Zack perked up. "Really?!" he exclaimed. "Now you're talking!" He grinned, quickly moving back to the couch.
Smiling, Aerith followed.
The auburn-haired man sighed wearily to himself as he stepped through the doors of the extended-stay hotel. Several locks of hair were falling into his eye again, but he did not pay them much heed. It had been a long day, though he could not complain that much when he had been surrounded by books. When he had awakened in this new world after being inadvertently sent there by Sephiroth, he had found himself working in the public library. That was quite agreeable with him, and so he had kept the job.
At times he had seen Marlene or Denzel come into the library, but of course they did not know him and thought nothing of seeing him. Other times Tifa was with them, and he would make himself scarce at those times. Tifa had been at the house the day he had gone to see Sephiroth when the man had still been gravely injured. He did not particularly want Tifa to see him here now; she might inform the others and then they would come. For the time being, he was content to not have his presence known. He would continue to observe them from a distance, assisting when he could but always allowing Sephiroth and the others their free agency to make their own choices.
Zack was getting better, which was satisfying to see. He had gone out of his way to rescue the brunet when Azazel Rakesh had been holding him captive. And a black feather seemed to have been left at the scene, too. He had heard it being discussed. Now Angeal and probably Sephiroth were wondering what was going on. They naturally realized whose feather it happened to be. Oh well . . . nothing could be done about that now. Perhaps someday he would at least fully reveal himself, but he did not intend to join the others for several reasons. He would be a lone wolf.
A slight frown crossed his features at the sight of a red-haired woman at the front desk. She was speaking to the desk clerk in a coy tone as she leaned over the edge. The man looked increasingly uneasy, fumbling to straighten his tie as she purred. No wonder she was flirting with him; he was an effortless target.
Of course, that was of little concern to the librarian. He began to walk past, intent on heading to the elevator. He pressed the button, crossing his arms as he waited in impatience. The woman's deep voice floated over to him.
"Oh, thank you so much, darling. I really don't know how long I'll be here this time. It's so good to know I have somewhere to call home."
The doors slid open. The man got in, immediately pressing the button to close the elevator after him. He did not want that woman sneaking a ride with him. Though on the other hand, it could be fun to let her know that not everyone would fall for her charms. A smirk crossed his features. But he let the doors shut anyway.
The hallway was empty when he arrived on his floor a moment later. He stepped out of the elevator, digging in his pocket for the card key. Procuring it, he straightened. His room was near the far corner. He started off at a brisk walk, making his way in that direction.
As he arrived at his door, the stairwell door began to open. He heard it somewhere in his mind, but it was of no concern to him.
Until a voice rang out.
"Oh Mr. Rhapsodos! I was hoping I'd catch you."
He froze. The woman from downstairs was calling his name. But he had never so much as seen her before. He turned to look, keeping his expression impassive.
"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me," he said in smooth tones. "I've never met you."
She smiled, her green eyes sizing him up in a moment. She knew he was not the type to fall prey to her flirtations, but that only made him all the more interesting.
"Nor I you," she said. "The nice man downstairs told me your name and said you were on my floor. I was hoping you would hold the elevator for me, but no such luck."
He shrugged. "The desk clerk isn't supposed to give out information about the guests," he said. "I could get him into trouble for that."
"Oh please don't!" she implored with fake sincerity. "I only wanted to know your name because you intrigued me. I'm Vivalene, by the way." She held out her hand. "I'm working at Fragmented Triangle."
All at once he was suspicious. Had this meeting been a coincidence at all? Or had someone at Fragmented Triangle decided to follow him and learn where he lived? Perhaps he should also turn on the charm. Two could play this game.
"I see," he said, grasping her hand and shaking it. "They're gaining quite a bit of prestige for a smaller company. What is it you do there?"
"I'm the secretary for Azazel Rakesh," she said, tossing her red curls over her shoulder. "Poor man, he's so overworked now that the company president has gone missing. Isn't it dreadful? I wonder whatever could have happened to him."
"Yes," he mused. "I wonder." Releasing her hand, he turned to his door. "You must be weary after your long journey," he said. "Won't you come in and have a drink?"
"Oh, I'd be delighted," she said. "But I would hate to intrude. You seemed in such a hurry to get up here."
He swiped the card key through the lock. The door clicked.
"It isn't an intrusion at all," he smiled as he pushed open the door. "You're very welcome."
"In that case," she answered, "I accept."
This was going to be interesting.