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Adrenaline Rush
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Too late now to stop the process.
This was your choice, you let it in.
This double life you lead is eating you up from within.
- Broken Pieces, Apocalyptica ft. Lacey Mosley
Chapter Sixteen
Mello and Hex are rarely, if ever, home. Much less at the same day and time. Matt knows that they both do this deliberately— Mello's been making it a point to keep Hex out of the loop of the things he does, lest she be suspicious. What's strange is that Hex hasn't so much protested about the never-ending assignments. It could be due to her restless nature, but Matt has a sneaking feeling that Hex is trying to avoid Mello.
But why?
It is widely acknowledged (by Matt, and more or less the entire mafia) that Mello and Hex has always had a problem with each other. Really, what else could one expect when two opinionated, brash, and hot-tempered people are put together? It is no surprise that Mello wants nothing to do with her, but doesn't Hex like being intellectually stimulated? Matt wonders what might have happened to change her way of thinking.
Should it even matter anymore?
Because it seems that whatever animosity between them has come to a screeching halt.
Matt tells himself not to buy it.
He wakes up right about mid-afternoon, methodically checking his calendar and finding that on this lovely Sunday, Hex would very likely be home (and by extension, Mello wouldn't be). Matt hums to himself and pulls on a shirt in a half-attempt to look decent. He exits his bedroom with a sleepy smile, and is greeted by an ever welcome silence.
Matt's sock-clad feet pad soundlessly across the floor, his eyes bleary and still disoriented. He stifles a yawn and waggles his fingers at the two blondes cozying together in the living room as he passes by. Mello's presence is a bit of a surprise, but Matt does recall him saying something about wanting to talk to Hex.
… Wait.
Matt freezes in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder with sorely confused eyes. He rubs the sleep out of them, thinking he might have been just imagining things. But he's wide awake now, and he's seeing just fine. His friends are, in fact, in the same room, and they aren't at each other's throats.
Mello is on the sofa, elbows on his knees as he reads a text from Hex's shoulder. The girl is sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back leaning casually towards Mello as she murmurs her findings and theories in a soft tone. At the display of intimacy, Matt frowns in chagrin. To say he is unsettled will be the understatement of the millennia.
If he has ever had any doubts that they've heard him enter, the passing glances sent to him terminate them. Hex gives him a nod of acknowledgment, but swiftly turns her attention back to her laptop. Mello, however, sends him a look of warning. Matt opens his mouth but the blond shakes his head, and mouths slowly, mutely, "Relax. I'll explain later. Let it be, for now."
Matt swallows and looks away, not daring to reply when he is in Hex's direct line of sight. When Mello doesn't say anymore, he takes it as a dismissal and heads into the kitchen. With a frustrated sigh, he runs a palm down his face. He has a feeling that Mello has finally found a way to have his plans come together. Matt tastes bile in his throat.
If Mello is doing what Matt thinks he is…
He doesn't give allow himself a chance to finish the thought. Growing anxious to distract himself, he rummages through the fridge. It is pure coincidence that he can hear Mello and Hex's conversation, but he doesn't pass up the opportunity to keep a trained ear on them. It is a force of habit; he likes being up to date, just so he doesn't struggle to react efficiently is a situation ever calls for it.
Matt catches snippets about military assistance, intelligence squads, theft and the like, and wonders if any of this means more work for him.
"— a private jet for our usage. We also need missiles and launchers installed by the next fortnight," Mello is saying, his voice one of authority. "Rod's letting us have at the mafia's funds. How much do you estimate we will need?"
"I don't know about the jet, but I could ask a friend of mine. We'll need forty million for the last two," Hex drawls, "But when was money ever an object? What I'm wondering is where the hell you'd expect to find an organization that's willing to hand military weapons over to the mafia. Our options are kind of limited, if you didn't notice."
"There's a new U.S. president," Mello muses aloud, and there are sounds of shuffling through papers. "Here. He was elected a while back. His name's David Hope. In his mid-forties, married, one son in his mid-teens… Hoope neither supports nor disapproves of Kira. He wants to make an alliance with L— the fake one with the base in Japan."
Hex is silent for a moment. "When?"
"Doesn't say. That's why we need to act very quickly," Mello replies. Looking past his shoulder, Matt sees him handing her a photograph. "What's your opinion of him?"
The towheaded teen, Matt sees, sizes up the picture, green eyes completely focused. "Tall, lean frame, defined forearms; he plays tennis of badminton… Doesn't pack much of a punch. He'll be easy to take down, if he doesn't have guards with him twenty-four seven. He looks intelligent, but doesn't seem like the kind to respond well to pressure. If you pull the right strings, he'll be easily manipulated."
Matt kicks the fridge door shut, armed with whipped and cocoa. He puts both down and begins to fix three mugs of steaming hot chocolate. If the rings around Mello's eyes are any indication, both blondes didn't get a minute of sleep or relaxation last night. Matt thinks that if the drinks manage to calm Mello enough, he might have a chance of interrogating him.
Listening in again, he hears Mello murmuring in agreement to something Hex said. He says, "I'll need more substantial info before I can blackmail him. I think double agents would be prudent."
Hex turns her head to meet Mello's eyes squarely, "I'll call Ill Rat—"
Who?
"Why him?" Mello mutters distastefully, a scowl marring his features. "I don't think he's to be trusted."
"Why not him?" Hex shoots back. "I'm confident he won't compromise your stinking goals. I did a background check on the guy recently. In the last four years, he's been through some promotions. Now, Rat's in a high enough position that he's got clearance to whatever we'll need. I tell you, he'll get all the dirt on Hoope you want."
Matt's eyebrows shoot up behind his bangs. Mello, being his paranoid self, will probably want him to ascertain whether Hex is right to hold Ill Rat so high in regard. Deciding that it's about time he enters the living room to face them, he puts his finishing touches on the mugs by spraying an overload of whipped cream.
"Who's Ill Rat?" he asks them straightforwardly, watching with amusement as Hex jumps in utter surprise. Caught off guard, she draws out her gun and points it at him unthinkingly.
Mello coughs to hide his smirk, and puts his hand on the weapon, lowering it for her slowly. Hex's eyes dart from Mello to Matt, as if unsure about who she should turn her anger to. She decides on Matt. With flushed cheeks, she spits, "Were you looking for a death sentence, Mattie-boy? My gun was loaded— I could've easily killed you."
"But you didn't," he points out.
She isn't impressed. "Should I have?"
He shrugs, knowing she doesn't mean any of her barbs. "Chill kid. I made hot chocolate."
As he expects, the hostile expression is immediately lifted from her face. She tilts her head and looks at the steaming mugs with interest, hiding the grin toying on her lips behind her hair. "Hmm… Good save, darling."
Crossing the floor, Matt does not hesitate to sit himself directly across them, but not before serving the drinks. With Hex watching him carefully, it is a challenge not to react to Mello's calculating stare. The older Mafioso presses his lips together to signify the importance that Matt watches what he says from here on out.
"Ill Rat," Mello finally says, "Is Weddy's contact from the FBI."
Matt blinks dumbly. "Weren't a number of FBI agents killed off by Kira four years ago?"
"So what? What happened four years ago might not happen again" the girl says around a sip of her drink, rolling her eyes at him. "Besides, Ill Rat is still kicking, thank you very much."
"I say that you ought not let this Rat person stalk Hoope," Matt says levelly. "It's not that I don't trust your judgment, Hex. It's just that— well, he's FBI... You never know if you can really trust Rat or not. Contact or not, there's still a possibility he'll turn against us and do us in. I mean, the mafia's not something anyone would take lightly. I doubt even Rat would pass up a chance to get the mafia caught if it means getting his ten seconds of glory."
Mello considers the information, and then, nods in approval. "And if the fake L and Hoope are to make an alliance, there is no reason that L wouldn't have the president monitored twenty-four seven. If he ever catches Rat digging up dirt, your contact's dead, Hex. I suggest you tell Rat that we'll definitely be needing him soon. Just not right now— and stop pouting, Hex."
"If it makes you feel a little better, kid," Matt says with an amiable, cooperating smile. "I'll uh, keep an eye on him; leak some fake info and stuff and see if he sells you out." As an afterthought, he adds, "If he passes, I'll have him give details on the FBI, so we know who's who, or what they do. We can never be too careful."
"Fine," Hex sniffs, turning her nose up in the air. While she is obviously against their refusal, she knows they are right. "But how else are we going to get the missiles installed, huh? I don't see you guys coming up with any more ideas."
The blond man leans back into the couch, brow furrowing in concentration. Matt mimics his actions, drawing his thumbnail between his lips and chewing idly. That particular bad habit, coupled with his unkempt appearance, shadowed eyes and loose white shirt, has Hex likening him to a sick parody of L. She purses her lips in disapproval but doesn't call Matt on it; he doesn't seem conscious of what he is doing.
The silence that comes is, in Matt's opinion, stiff and awkward. Unable to tear his eyes away from the blondes, he notes that Hex and Mello are awfully nonchalant about their proximity to each other— well, that, or they ought to be credited for their acting skills, Mello especially. Matt knows, as a matter of fact, that Mello abhors having anyone invading his personal space.
After what seems to be an hour, but in actuality, is no more than five minutes, Mello breaks the quiet. "Hex… you said the president has a son?"
As if realizing the implications of his words, she sends him a wary look and says, "… Yes. His name is Arnold Hoope."
A smirk touches Mello's features. "Just how proficient are you in kidnapping?"
Matt chokes on his drink, sputtering some out of his mouth and sending them dribbling down his chin. Hex sends him a look of disgust and chucks him a box of tissues. Otherwise, no one pays him any more mind. The girl adopts a deep scowl, crossing her arms over her chest and outright refusing to reply. To vouch for her, Matt says, "What the— Are you serious, Mello? Kidnapping's not something people take lightly."
"Stealing and hacking aren't either," Mello replies, tone firm and uncompromising.
Hex harrumphs. "Touché."
"It'd save us some of our troubles," the blond says, a sinister look crossing his features. "And, admittedly, potentially expose us to more trouble— but that's a given in anything we do." He places both his hands on Hex's shoulders, tightening his grip after she attempts to shrug them off and move away.
His voice outweighs any protest that might have come out of Matt's mouth. Mello continues, "Kidnapping his kid is low, but it'll offer more leverage against him than we might've had in blackmailing him. Don't you get it? If— no, when we get his kid, I'll be able to control Hoope like a puppet, and I'll have no setbacks or compromise. It's perfect."
Two pairs of ears perk up at his usage of 'I', instead of his usual 'we'. Hex's head whirs, and her jaw slackens, but not visibly so either of her companions would notice. It wouldn't do to have her pretense discovered when she has only just begun. Feigning innocence, she rolls her eyes and sets her attention on her laptop, looking for any information about Hoope's only son.
Mello doesn't even seem to have noticed his little mistake, the one that had Hex's will to see him dead even stronger. He continues rattling off, being none the wiser, the words spilling from his mouth with utmost ease.
While Hex reacts quietly, Matt reacts in a different manner. His spine straightens, and his eyes dart to Hex's relaxed form in paranoia, worry and fear, all in one. To have Hex realize Mello's slip would simply ruin everything, or worse; have them dead. The gun is still within her reach, after all, and Matt still fears death more than anything.
Frantically studying Hex's body language, he realizes that she's shown no outward reaction at all. When his heart sinks to the lowest part of his stomach, he isn't so sure if it is out of relief or blind fear. Her lack of response does little to reassure him, and it scares him more than anything she might have said would've.
"I've never kidnapped anyone before, Melly-bean," Hex admits quietly. "Much less anyone that's that heavily guarded. I don't think this is the best course of action."
Mello gives her a dirty look, impatient with her. "Why not? You're a thief. Think of it as stealing, why don't you?"
"It's one thing to steal an inanimate object," she replies, her voice still in that dangerously soft tone Matt prefers never to invoke. His eyes dart between the two, already sensing a change in the atmosphere, already knowing that another argument will ensue if neither come to an agreement soon. Hex continues, "But it's completely different when you kidnap someone who's alive. Someone who walks, moves, breathes— someone who can give easily give away my position, Mello—"
The older blond lifts his chin, jaw set determinedly, and his fingers drum against his lap. His mind made up, Mello doesn't allow himself to hear another word of her protests. "Knock him out. Gag him, use chloroform, hit him in the head, stun him— I don't really give a damn if he's in the base in three days time. You—"
"Three days!" Hex whips around to face Mello, her eyes wide in incredulousness, surprise, but also brewing anger. "You're overestimating my abilities, Mello! I told you, I've never done a kidnapping before! You can't expect me to handle something that high risk without knowing what the fuck I'm doing—"
Matt frowns, deciding to stop them before things get out of hand. "Guys…"
"— because that's just a suicide!" Hex's voice is rising an octave, and her voice growing in strength until she is almost yelling, though Matt hardly thinks she notices. She looks near-hysterical and downright furious. "I don't do things without testing them out on a smaller scale, not anymore, damn it— you're trying to get me caught!"
Blue-green eyes flash as they meet Hex's in a staring match. Unthinkingly, Hex rises from the floor to her full height, looking imposing. Mello, still seated on the couch, wears the darkest look he can muster. Both are trying to intimidate the other into submitting, and Matt sighs, realizing that neither of the two remember that he is there anymore, watching them.
"I want my missiles," Mello says slowly, toying with each syllable. "You're going to get my missiles."
Hex's lips curl into something like a snarl. "Kira will kill me."
The blond male wants to hear none of it anymore. Carrying an aura of authority, one Matt assumes is used only on subordinates in the mafia, Mello waves a dismissive hand. He wears a feral grin, as if he knows the next particular words he says he make Hex change her opinion considerably. "You'll take Matt with you."
"What?" flies right of Matt's mouth, but no one pays him any mind. Mello is too busy watching Hex's reaction. He notes the slight tensing of her shoulders, the display of her hands balling into tight fists. He waits for any sign of relief in her movements or actions, but he reads nothing but tired resignation when Hex faces them fully once more.
Wearily, she asks, "You think dragging Matt into this will make any difference?"
"You don't have to be trained to be able to do anything," Mello tells her confidently, trailing his fingers down her arm and settling around her wrist. Hex gives him a faint smile, and allows herself to be tugged down onto the sofa beside him. "And you won't get caught. All you and Matt have to do is break and enter. I'll handle the rest."
Hex's eyes are struck with comprehension. "You'll hack into the video feeds, then. I think you'll need to keep your ears on all phone lines too."
"Of course," Mello replies flippantly, wearing a self-satisfied grin. "Have the deed done A.S.A.P. I'm calling a meeting at the base straight after you arrive. "
Clearing his throat loudly, Matt startles them both by re-alerting them of his presence. He notices that Mello has yet to let go of Hex's hand. Busying himself by picking the lint off of his shorts, Matt says, "I doubt I'll be able to take all my equipment with me— I'll have to follow Hex back to L.A. and then double back to DC."
Mello makes a noise of agreement. "Just drop Hex and the… Hoope kid at the entrance of the base."
Looking oddly neutral, Hex extracts herself from Mello's light grip and stands up. "I'll secure us a flight in a bit. If there's nothing else, I'd like to start packing. You too, Mattie-boy. I want us gone in four hours."
She doesn't wait to hear his reply, already rounding the corner to disappear into her bedroom. The two men keep their silence, staring each other down until they hear the reassuring sound of the door clicking shut. Matt's fingers drum against the arm of the couch, and he waits for Mello to speak first.
"You know who's side you're on."
Matt lifts his head. "I don't forget, Mello."
This conversation is one he's been having with Mello more times than he can count. The words are more or less instinct for Matt to utter now, but he can't help but feel he's only trying to convince himself. If he had made up his mind to begin with, he might not be feeling as much guilt as he does now, when he sees Hex do as Mello says; he might not be feeling sick with fear and apprehension when he sees Mello.
Mello and Hex are both Matt's long-time friends, and to see one manipulating the other, and worse— letting it happen... It's eating him up from within. But Matt can't switch sides and aid Hex, not now. It's too late, and the worst has already made a promise to come.
"Excellent," Mello says smoothly. "Keep an eye on her."
"Sure."
With his lips spreading into a malicious grin, Mello looks impatient and almost sinister. Matt inwardly cringes. Perhaps he had been very right when he had said that people could change entirely. Mello says, "The plan's coming together, Matt. You won't be saying a word to her about anything, won't you?"
"Of course not. I got your back," Matt says automatically, raising his hands in mock surrender. He then frowns. "I just— What exactly are you planning, Mello? What are you doing?"
Mello's tone is low, but it carries in Matt's head like he's yelling in his ears.
"You'll see."
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys. It's been hectic lately- exams, battling depression, laptop failure... It's all been giving me a headache, and obviously, my muse had suffered terribly. I'm really sorry about that. Anyway, this chapter might seem like a filler, but it's quite imperative in some parts. :D Wammy!Mello is no more!
And this is kind of unrelated, but have any of you tried drinking strong green tea upside down? I felt like I was swimming... until I choked. Ahem.
Reviews are fantabulous. ;D