"Mr. Mundy if you would please follow me."
Miss Pauling, whose eyes travel slowly up the height of her suspect, stands only up to the top of the man's ribcage, and even then the woman's shoes do much to bring her even so high against Sniper's build. The already nebbish tone and inoffensive insistence Sniper'd grown to expect from the woman grows even more non threatening in the wake of her entreaty. Sniper smirks as her timorously scrunched lips pucker smally upon her round face, Sniper able to see the faults of her lips, augmented by the dark red of her tastefully done lipstick.
Still, the woman extends a small hand to latch onto the man's cuffed wrist, a yellowed folder tucked under her arm, one he would infer held details pertaining solely to him he was less than comfortable with anyone knowing, be it his employer or not. He shoots a glance at Scout, who sits still in his straight backed, honey tinted wooden chair, his hands clasped neatly on top of the table it matches. They share a short lived glance, though the young man's slightly agape mouth and wavering eyes were all the Australian needed to conclude that Scout was just as reluctant about the man leaving as Sniper was.
'Luc better know what the Hell it is he's doin',' Sniper snarls introspectively, already coming to regret the decision to leave the young man behind as she leads them both through the heavy iron door. Luc had been escorted to his interrogation room early by Dmitri, thus leaving his colleague unable to remind the Frenchman that Scout's life was in question, and that Sniper was ready to see to it that Luc's own would be as well should the plan of his be the thing to upset its delicate rest balanced directly on the thin line between life or death for Lawrence.
"This way please."
It's only now Sniper registers the annoying clack of Miss Pauling's purple heels against the cement floor and the silence of the halls off which the miniature collisions echo. Each prim little step sends sharp, stabbing thwacks to ring against his eardrum, and Sniper finds he fears for his sanity. As he cranes his head downward and watches the way her diminutive feet take strides barely inches within each other, it dawns on him in a sudden wave of rebellion that the woman would be nothing for him to over power.
Her grip on his cuffed wrists was all he needed to send her toppling should he wrench his arms back forcefully enough; the strength of her head theoretically hitting the floor would be enough to knock her out temporarily, maybe even enough to cause her to forget their faces if God smiled upon him as He did in Jack's reverie. He'd snatch the key and free himself, and together him and Luc would overpower Dmitri, make a break for Scout, burn their files to paltry smolders of dusty ash, pretend they'd never existed…
Though by time the man realizes the potential of his mass the woman has already him led to the basement once more, her fingers fumbling to unlock yet another chilled interrogation room, once again lacking recesses ideal for windows in the slate enclosures surrounding them.
"If you would please sit, Mr. Mundy…" the woman clears her throat, pulling her chair and resting herself calmly, absolutely no noise resulting from her actions. Sniper refuses to display such grace before the young woman, however, the overhead light swinging as his towering frame bumps into it sharply whilst wrenching his own chair back, plopping in it as if he were composed of a mudlike consistency. Miss Pauling spreads the manila folder calmly so the covers assume a modest portion of the long, rectangular wooden table; the Australian takes the liberty of leaning backward, placing the heels of his dirtied boots upon its surface, Miss Pauling looking up and parting her mouth slowly.
"Mr. Mundy, if you could please lower your feet so I may see the entirety of your face—"
"Nah, don't think I can, Miss,"
"Mr. Mundy, please, I would like to conduct this questioning in short order so as not to waste anyone's time, but if you insist on placing your dirty boots on the table—"
Sniper repeats the assured nature of his insistence by plopping them against the table once more.
"—not only are you wasting my time by making me object, you are wasting my time later, when I come through to clean—"
"Oh, 'nd how I'd hate t'waste your bloody time…" Sniper growls, drawing his long legs back onto the floor and leaning forward in his chair, slamming his fists heavily against the wood instead. "'Nd what about my 'nd Lawrence's time, huh?!"
"Mr. Mundy it is not because of my actions that you and Mr. Fitzpatrick have been summoned here, and I would highly appreciate it if you would cease speaking as if it were,"
"'Nd you know what I'd appreciate—?!"
"I can assure you I have an idea, Mr. Mundy, though as it is I cannot say now would be an appropriate time to explain to me the whole of your desires and wishes—now if you would be so kind, I would like to conduct this interrogation swiftly and efficiently so as to not uphold the progress and continuation of the trial…" Miss Pauling snaps with a hint of actual sarcasm in her tone, her upper lids narrowed from mild unamusement.
"Trial…" Sniper spits before chuckling deeply, smirking and bringing his wild, grey eyes so they peer indisputably into her own browns ones. "Don't tell me you're so stupid t'believe that's really what you're conductin' out there…"
"Regardless of what I may or may not believe, Mr. Mundy, I still have my orders, and I will ask you one more time for you to quit halting progress," the woman hisses with added fervor, with less and less patience. "You're just as bad as Marino…"
"Oi, y'really sayin' I'm as bad as that pizza bakin' dipshit?! It ain't because I'm sexist why I think you're nothin' short of an idiot, Miss—"
"Mr. Mundy that is enough," Miss Pauling raises a hand. "Should you demonstrate a further desire to not cooperate I will ask Miss Ingram for permission for your indefinite internment here as well as separation from Mr. Fitzpatrick,"
"You're kiddin' yourself if y'think I'm afraid of ya—you're even more delusional if y'think you can keep him away from me…"
She sighs, though ignores him this particular time; she draws the folder closer to her, and Sniper catches a glance of the yellowed "General Profile" sheet he assumes must have been filled out sometime near his initial induction into RED some ten years ago, the photo of himself paperclipped to the upper left hand corner forever capturing a much more sanguine version of himself, free from the threat of death despite the war that awaited him.
Miss Pauling allows herself a few seconds' time to take a cursory study of the thin info sheet, her eyes travelling up to the Australian who sits before her.
"How old were you in this picture, Mr. Mundy…?"
"Y'mean there isn't a birth 'nd deployment date on the sheet or y'can't do basic math?"
"Mr. Mundy—"
"Twenty six or seven, Hell if I know—young enough t'do it but old enough t'know better—why, the Hell does it have t'do with anythin'—"
"It's nothing, Mundy—recruited through the Australian Armed Forces, I see, I assume Redmond III took personal interest in your sharpshooting skills,"
"Somethin' like that, told me he wanted me in some special ops somethin' or other—you'd think a man spreadin' lies o'that nature would be in prison—"
"Going by your service record you're as exceptional as Redmond assumed you to be—you have many medals, distinguished honours and titles, it even says you've only been dominated thrice throughout your whole career, every kill also being a headshot—"
"Well 'course, y'don't keep the position o'bein' one'o only ten Snipers RED has employed all over the goddamn world by missin''nd shovin' fingers up your own arse,"
"I would never dare to assume so, Mr. Mundy—what led to your transfer to the American branch of RED?"
"I don't understand what it has t'do with you wankers tryin' t'kill my Lawrence,"
"It is merely a question, Mr. Mundy,"
"What d'you think?! RED needed me t'take out a hit in America since all the other Snipers were already at other bases engaged in battles—this was jus' a side operation in the interest o'RED, free from the battlefield,"
"So—?"
"So what else was there t'do?! I was shipped out, shot the bugger in the head—'s nothin' else t'tell,"
"I assume you were transferred to 2Fort after the hit?"
"Somethin' like that,"
"Mr. Mundy please put the cigarettes and lighter away, this is a no smoking facility—" the woman fans her hand in front of her face as Sniper lights the thing, making sure to blow the smoke loftily in her direction.
"So when was it exactly you met Mr. Fitzpatrick for the first time—?"
"Piss off—"
"Mr. Mundy your defiance will not save him, nor will your behaviour work in swaying Miss Ingram's mind—"
"So then that's it, huh?! You're sittin' here, watchin' 'nd even aidin' in the murder of someone who didn't do anythin' to ya—he didn't do anythin' wrong, Pauling—!"
"Mr. Mundy there is no need to raise your voice at me—"
"No need t'raise my voice?! You're tellin' me t'keep my voice down, 'nd yet you're gonna sit here, threatenin' me t'stay in line 'nd answer your questions like a good boy, tellin' me about how your damn boss is gonna just kill the one I love if I don't answer you're stupid questions?!"
"I—have no investment in any of this, the trial, the interrogation—I am simply following orders, Mr. Mundy—"
"Orders, eh? Well then I s'ppose those orders don't mean much o'anythin' 's long as little Miss Intern gets 'er credit when this is all over, huh? 'S long as Miss Ingram writes up a good report back to your Professor 'nd you get your little degree in your hand, you don't care what the orders even mean, do ya?!" Sniper growls, the mousey woman listening silently with her lips pursed.
"Clearly you're fittin' right in if you don't see a problem with takin' in a bunch o'people you've never even formally met into a prison 'nd murderin' them with little to no evidence to their names—"
"Mr. Mundy the crimes are simple and thoroughly unambiguous—Dmitri Marino brought in irrefutable evidence of you and Lawrence Fitzpatrick's unlawful and treacherous cross factioned, homosexual relationship—"
"So what bloody difference does it make if it's homosexual or not?! Y'sayin' I can't love Lawrence 'cause I'm a man?!"
"Judging by the photographic evidence provided to us by Mr. Marino—"
"Those photos were faked, y'dumb bitch—"
"Save it for the testimony, Mr. Mundy—"
"It all woulda stayed under your noses if he hadn't gone runnin' to your boss exposin' us! Only reason he did was 'cause the wanker was exploitin' money outta Scout, sayin' if we didn't want the Administrator t'know he was s'posed t'pay!'
"Then perhaps Mr. Fitzpatrick best learn how to keep his financial deals and promises in line,"
"You're just as heartless as she is," Sniper spits, shaking his head from disgust. "A right ruthless cunt,"
"Mr. Mundy I understand the likely sentence facing Mr. Fitzpatrick upsets you deeply—I sympathise, I truly do, however it cannot be ignored that you two have an intricate, ongoing romance that conflicts with your contracts as well as the interests of RED, BLU and TF Industries. Because of it you have abandoned your duties, posts, forsaken all allegiances to your factions, endangered your comrades, expended countless amounts of BLU and RED resources, time, money, munitions, and manpower. At the very least you both will receive dishonourable discharge for your actions, as well as your paychecks and savings stripped from your financial accounts.
However Miss Ingram regards you all much highly, which is why it is so sad to see you in such a situation; she knew it would be a waste to kill you both outright, thus she had Mr. Fitzpatrick prove his loyalty by offering him the choice of either killing you or allowing himself to be killed—"
"'Nd what for, the killin'?!"
"I do not know, Mr. Mundy, these were simply her conditions—"
"'Nd you don't question that?! I love Lawrence more than anythin', I wouldn't deny it for the world. I don't care if you stick the barrel of a gun in my mouth. I don't care if you find me lovin' 'im t'be on par with the dirt caked in your shoes, the realtreachery here's that you'd have us murdered over manpower 'nd the risk of company secrets bein' traded—"
"The orders were not to kill you today, Mr. Mundy—"
"You say that, 'nd yet you stuck a rifle in Lawrence's arms 'nd told 'im t'blow my brains out—besides, I guarantee I'd make your lives Hell if you so much as laid a finger on 'im, I'd get myself murdered in the process—"
"You're being irrational—"
"I'm bein' irrational?! You're the one admittin' you'd condone two men bein' killed for findin' some actual good in a world where nothin' matters over two rich bastards fightin' over land!"
"Mr. Mundy…"
"I don't understand you people; I never understood ya. From day one y'told me I was joinin' RED, the effort to save the Free World. Y'told me I was fightin' evil 'nd combatin' BLU t'stop it from its rape in the name o'word conquest. Y'tell me I'm makin' somethin' of myself out here, fightin' for ya, 'nd ya know what, I do—if it weren't for joinin' ya I never woulda met Lawrence, 'nd Lawrence is the only thing stoppin' me from puttin' a bullet through my own head, Miss—not BLU or RED or TF Industries or Mann Co, not my parents or my sister, not Freedom or Communists, but Lawrence, a skinny arse Bostonian is the only thing in my life worth wakin' up for at this point.
I don't do shit for you or RED 'nd I haven't in three bloody years; everythin' I do I do for him, 'nd you can jot it down in that fuckin' notebook o'yours 'nd I'll tell the Administrator myself just in case she doesn't quite get it; He's the only thing that matters to me. 'Nd so y'can give me medals, honours, awards 'nd memorials for killin' a man, but then you would put me t'death for fallin' in love with one,"
Sniper rests his forehead in the palm of his hand, Pauling silent for the seconds he chooses not to say anything else.
"Even the Armed Forces look down upon same sex romance, Mr. Mundy, even within the Armies itself—"
"Even our own Government isn't slaughterin' us jus' 'caused we kissed another bloke, 'nd I swear it to ya: one day your lot's gonna be exposed for the evils 'nd lies you're perpetratin' around here; one day the whole world'll know that their president means nothin', but rather BLU or RED controllin' 'em, that our lives're all bein' steered for the interests o'your bosses, your tax dollars goin' t'pay their feud—"
"And this is most likely why she'll have you both killed, because she knows her civilians will speak should you part with TF Industries on bad terms,"
"'Nd that honestly doesn't seem wrong t'you? We get killed because we know the truth?!"
"It doesn't matter what I think, Mr. Mundy…" Miss Pauling sighs, her head shaking slightly so her pigtails slip from their ribbons with each gesture. "Her word is final, and my orders will be carried out whether I do them or not, the latter option not going without me also being punished,"
"And I bet you could talk to Heinrich Schmelzer about what happened to the last regime o'men who all claimed t'be followin' orders, when justice was served the Allies didn't give two shits 'bout whether they were ordered, point was they committed the crime—"
"The men followed the orders because they risked the safety of their families by not doing so! And in the same vein, this is my whole future, Mr. Mundy, my degree is contingent on receiving good marks for the internship—!"
"It's our whole future too, Miss, 'cept for you there's still a life without your degree; without Lawrence I have nothin',"
Miss Pauling stutters a bit, growing somewhat exasperated as she tries to form the appropriate words to explain her circling emotions.
"There's nothing I can do, Mr. Mundy—I sympathise, I truly do, I want you to be with Mr. Fitzpatrick and Mr. Rousseau, I hope, gets to hold onto his stepson, but there's simply nothing I can do—now please answer my questions, Mr. Mundy, we might be running out of time, and if she gets impatient you might not be able to say goodbye,"
Sniper's expression softens, the woman notes, studying him with an urgent glare, the man silently gesturing for her to begin questioning.
"How did you meet him?" Miss Pauling asks quietly, her tone suddenly much different, much softer.
"At 2Fort, where else?"
"No, how—did you encounter him in battle, did you see him when he arrived?"
"…Little mutant was climbin' around in my tree pickin' apples; told 'im to get down or else I'd kill 'im—'course he didn't listen, he never does, but…"
"When was this?"
"September three years ago—s'pose he was brand new that day, he had no idea he was on enemy territory…"
"And why didn't you kill him?"
"'Re you serious?! Kid couldn't've been any older than twenty or twenty one, 'nd he was new at that, wasn't even armed! He tried maskin' it but he was scared shitless, he was shakin' up there glued to the damn thing. He was completely helpless, there would've been no honour in his kill—besides, I ain't so heartless, I wasn't gonna hurt 'im, he was terrified! Not t'mention the Administrator wouldn't've approved of fraggin' 'im,"
"I see—what then? I know for a fact it didn't go from him in the tree to you so in love with him…"
"Gremlin kept comin' back; picked the tree clean. He looked so damn happy, I figured 'jus' let 'im do whatever the Hell he wants'. Soon as he fought his first battle he'd realize there wasn't a lot t'be happy about out there.
"Nd after three weeks, he started comin' to the nest every damn night, talkin' 'bout the day's battle, callin' me a shithead or whatever else—I remember the first time I dominated 'im, kid came stormin' up to the nest talkin' 'bout I was cheap 'nd didn't deserve the shot that landed it. Told'im 's what he got, that he needs t'get better if he ever wanted revenge…"
"So?"
"So he got it. After a week he got me back. It was his first month at 2Fort, 'nd he was already makin' a name for himself; the mongrel was vey reckless his first six months, but a Hell of a Scout 'nd not anyone y'wanted to run into. There was somethin' to 'im I really liked, even though he annoyed the ever lovin' shit outta me. Musta been the same deal for him, 'cause he was finding me every night. He'd plop down next t'me in the evenin's and either gloat about how great he was or bitch that everyone else was unfair. He was easy t'rile up, too; y'tell him you can take 'im on 'nd the next thing y'know you've got a rivalry goin' on,"
"You started as rivals?"
"Friendly ones, I gotta add; I always told 'im I'd never shoot t'kill 'cause I didn't kill newsies, 'nd he always told me he never shot t'kill cause he wanted me t'be alive so he could see the embarrassment on my face when he owned me. It was all true at first, the only thing that really was stoppin' me from guttin' 'im was his newness. I'm tellin' ya, it started off as legitimate hatred!
But then at some point I started noticin' I was actually disappointed when the gremlin didn't show up at the nest, like I'd almost begun t'expect 'im. But he'd jus' show up again the next day, 'nd before he could catch on I was hurt he hadn't shown up the night before, he was already spewin' apologies a mile a minute, sayin' he tried t'come but Jane made them all go t'bed early that night—it was weird, it really was, 'nd by about his seventh month, I'd say the reason I wasn't killin' him because he was my friend,"
"I see…"
"'S not it, Miss; from there, I started gettin' protective. Lawrence was my rival 'nd no one elses. I'm tellin' ya, it would really get me goin' if someone else dominated 'im, or if I saw one o'my comrades out t'kill 'im, I'd distract them long enough for Scout t'get away…"
"And he didn't notice?"
"What?! 'Course he noticed! Kid was thankin' me left 'nd right after a while, pretty soon he was doin' the same for me! But no matter how we'd stop the others from havin' goes, we didn't hold back with each other—we've put each other in the hospitalway too many times t'count. The three dominations on my record were all from Scout, he's the only one who's ever gotten me enough three separate times,"
"Was this because you let him?"
"No—kid's just damn good at what he does—has the modesty of a hedonist, though…"
"I see…now, would you say he loves you?"
"I—I mean, yeah, 'course—'s a matter o'fact Lawrence fell in love with me ages before I'd even began seein' 'im that way…"
"How so?"
"Well, first of all we never would've even become friends if he hadn't insisted on botherin' me in the nest; he always soughtme out, even if it was only t'tell me I was an arsehole…"
"Go on…"
Sniper shrugs. "But he'd always call me an arsehole, then sit down t'stay. It was strange t'me at first, the way the mutant was always findin' me, smilin' 'nd always throwin' his arms around my neck. I don't usually mix well with people anyway, 'nd Lawrence is hardly a person, y'know. Kid's inhuman with his ability t'piss a bloke off, 'nd that bloody annoyin' accent, I've even grown fond o'that damn accent! I like my peace, 'nd Lawrence sure as Hell ain't peace, but—y'know, sometimes I think the reason why I grew so attached to 'im was because he was simply everythin' I wasn't, because despite our differences, he was the first person I'd ever met t'just accept me 'nd love me regardless…"
"The first?"
"I've been a fag for as long as I can remember, 'nd God forbid a day should go by where people ain't callin' me one. He never knew until about a year'nd a half ago how I swung—Hell, it wasn't until then we even learned each other's names at that! T'tell the truth, though, I shoulda seen it comin' from a mile away…"
"What?"
"That he was fallin' in love with me! I'd been with RED seven whole years 'nd never once had I come up t'the nest after a long day's battle t'find a BLU curled up in a ball, snoozin' 'nd exhausted from waitin' for me. Or the way he'd jus' look at me, the way I'd make 'im smile, the way his eyes would get so round, the way he'd lean against me if he started gettin' tired…"
"My Goodness…"
"I remember it; I actually carried a sleepin' Lawrence in my arms, back to his own base—he was snorin' a bit, it was really somethin',"
"Mr. Mundy…"
"'Nd that was after a whole hour o'him protestin' even goin' back to his base—it was one o'the weekends we had off 'nd he wanted to have some sort o'sleepover in the nest. I'll tell ya what, I had a real time thinkin' over how I'd really just carried him in my arms on the walk back. But he was just lookin' for a friend, y'know? He didn't care which side I was on, point was I listenin' to 'im 'nd givin' him more than jus' one word answers he said his comrades couldn't even be bothered to give 'im. I can't blame him for that…"
"I cared about 'im, I really did. I mean sure, he annoyed me t'Hell 'nd back at first, he still did 'nd even still does, but he'd really, really grown on me. I knew he really thought the world of me, 'nd he really is a sweet boy, he means well. 'S long as we keep the war in mind, it wouldn't hurt t'be his little buddy, I'd figured. Then the next thing I knew Lawrence was sneakin' out every night. Or some nights he'd jus' come poutin', talkin' 'bout how he missed home, his Ma 'nd his brothers. I sympathized 'nd I listened, I wanted t'be there for 'im.
But bein' there meant t'him lyin' against me with his head on my chest, wrappin' our hands t'gether,"
"And how'd you react at first?"
"I was terrified! The friendship was bad enough, 'nd I could tell by the way he'd rest his head on my shoulder 'nd kiss 'long my collarbone that things were gettin' worse, but I never stopped 'im. I knew it was wrong, but I never stopped 'im…"
"My Goodness, Mr. Mundy…"
"He was fallin' for me; it seemed like it'd come outta nowhere at the time, but lookin' back on it it'd been buildin' up for months. I couldn't say I felt the same way at first; not just 'cause I didn't, but 'cause I knew he deserved better than a grumpy Sniper who had no hope for humanity livin' outta his van—then I saved 'im from RED's Scout. He got beaten real bad, he woulda died if I hadn't found'im; 'nd here I was, cryin' into 'im, pleadin' that he holds on, that we'd be t'gether again before he knew it…"
"And then?"
"Then I knew I was just as in love as he was...but when the mongrel decided t'confront his feelin's for me I guess he really wasn't all that ready t'face what lovin' another man meant; he called me all sorts o'shit. Sure the insults hurt comin' from 'im, but I knew it wasn't his fault, really, he was jus' confused.
So the next year 'nd a half after we spent in a weird position: we were more than friends 'nd we knew it, but we weren't t'gether. I'd only let 'im kiss me sometimes, but if he tried gettin' too sweet I'd push him off me, I didn't want 'im lovin' on me 'til he was ready to accept he had feelin's for another man. We weren't actually romantically involved as a serious pair until maybe 'round March o'this year…'nd the whole time I knew it was a bad idea, that it would get 'im killed, lovin' his enemy," Sniper snarls, running his hand through his thick brown hair, the healthy strands soft and sweat dampened against his fingers.
"Now look."
"Mr. Mundy…"
"I love him, Miss, that's really all I can tell you; how it happened, or why or when, all completely over my head…."
"But why?"
"Hell if I know," the man sighs, raising himself from his chair. "With all due respect, I ain't plannin' on jus' sittin' here chattin' with ya when Lawrence could already have his hands'nd neck in the guillotine,"
Sniper stares at her silently, though willfully nonetheless. Through his thinly pursed mouth Miss Pauling can read the importune that lies unspoken both in his eyes and on the edge of his lips.
"If I let you out that door, Mr. Mundy—"
"'S all I ask. Release Luc 'nd let me get t'Scout,"
"I—I just don't know—"
"The only crime Lawrence is guilty of is lovin' me; if for that y'really think he deserves death—"
"It's not about what I think Mr. Mundy!"
"Still, y'have the ability t'let me out 'nd save a young man who's gonna be murdered for fallin' in love,"
"…And the Frenchman?"
"Forget 'im. He's jus' tryin' t'save his stepson, he ain't out t'get anyone unless they're out t'get him, none of us are,"
"Say I let you out that door, you rescue Mr. Rousseau and you get Fitzpatrick. Say you do escape, Mr. Mundy, then what?!" the woman asks, looking him realistically in the eye.
"I take Lawrence 'nd I run."