The Games People Play
The elevator made a steady climb towards its destination, Dante rubbed the last traces of sleep out of his eyes while he watched the red digit counter go higher and higher. Donald Love, the owner of the office complex that those Sin Scythes had attacked a few days back wanted to discuss something with Dante. What it was, he wouldn't say, at least not over the phone. Now that could mean one out of three things; 1. It was very hush, hush stuff so he didn't want to take any chances, 2. It was some sort of special reward for Dante that had to be handed over personally or 3. It was a setup and Dante was walking straight into more trouble.
Either way Dante didn't have any problems with any of the possible outcomes. Hush, hush stuff was in the game that Dante played, special rewards came every now and then, though for the most part it boiled down to «It's on the house» or cold hard cash. As far as trouble went, Donald Love was a good ol' fashion human, despite his extensive network, a mere mortal with no special powers. Plus adding Dante's reputation in the criminal underworld of Raccoon City, it was unlikely that Mr Love would pull a stunt like that.
At last the elevator came to a halt with the usual ding and as the sliding doors opened with a low humming sound, Dante stepped out, walking straight to the secretary's desk. «May I help you sir?» The young lad behind the desk asked. A new face, Dante mused. Every now and then, Mr Love had to swap personal secretary for... various reasons. «I'm here to see your boss.» He grunted to the secretary, whom tapped a little on his desktop computer to check the appointment list. «Uh-huh, your name sir?» He asked Dante. «I'm not listed, just buzz your boss and tell him I'm here.» Dante replied, sniffling a yawn as he spoke.
The secretary frowned at Dante, trying his best to be polite and diplomatic at the same time. «I'm sorry sir, but I really need your name. For security reasons. Mr Love is very strict about these things.» He insisted to Dante. «And for the same security reasons I can't give you my name. Just give him a description of my looks then.» Dante suggested. Hesitant, the secretary took Dante's suggestion and buzzed into Mr Love's office. After a little back and forth, Dante was allowed inside.
Donald Love's office was huge, decorated with rare pieces of art and covered in a calm gray tone from floor to ceiling. Not so bright that it made the room look like a hospital nor too dark making it look like some sort of dungeon. The view was a real killer, which according to a few rumors, at least 5 people had experienced close and personal. «Mr Dante, always a pleasure doing business with you.» Donald beamed from behind his gigantic desk. «Can we just pretend I've given you the usual greetings, that we've already been babbling about this and that for a good 15 minutes straight and just cut to the point?» Dante mumbled, brushing away Donald's greeting.
A normal person would be flying either out the window, down the stairs or the elevator shaft for talking like that to Mr Love, but Dante was the exception to that rule. «Hahahaha! You never change Dante and I hope to God you never will.» Donald laughed in his chair, gesturing for Dante to take a seat. Sinking into a chair, Dante sighed slightly as he waited for Donald to speak up. «Well, I've two small problems I need you to take care of, on the usual terms and discretion level of course.» Donald began. Dante nodded his reply, so far they were on the same page.
Opening a drawer in his desk, Donald picked up a brown envelope and tossed it into Dante's lap. «First I'd like you to watch this.» He began while Dante peeked into the envelope, where he found a key, a small memo with an address written on it and a Sony Ericsson W810i mobile phone. Picking up the phone, Dante frowned at it a little before he gave Donald a questioning little look. «It's hacked and clean, you can call whomever, wherever, whenever and never pay a dime, plus it's damn hard to trace.» Donald explained, getting a big plasma TV ready. «Cute...» Dante commented before packing it away.
Turning his attention to the TV, Dante noticed it was a demo run for a commercial. It began with some pretty cool action shots, followed with words coming into view and then explode apart. The narrator's voice over kicked in: «Tonight...the TV event that will make history...Raccoon City Survivor! This takes reality TV to a whole new level! We'll take 20 recently paroled guys, equip them with grenade launchers and flamethrowers...and let them hunt each other down!! It's the reality show where you...just might be...part of the action!!»
Some more action followed, as a by-stander told about his experience: «I was grabbing a sandwich in the Happy Blimp, and all-of-a-sudden these guys crashed through the window and started shooting at each other! I was so excited, I didn't even notice I'd been hit! After that, I was hooked on Raccoon City Survivor! I watch it every day in the hospital!» He even finished with a fat grin and the thumbs up. The main narrator took over from there: «The game doesn't end until there's only one man left standing!! Tune in nightly, or watch the 24hour live webcast!...Raccoon City Survivor!!...Natural selection...has come home!!... Sponsored by AmmuNation. Please remember to put litter in it's place.»
Dante just sat there, nodding to himself while making a face of mixed impressions. «So what do you think?» Donald asked him. «You're gonna make history alright, though I can't say if it'll be for the better or worse.» Dante mused, turning his attention back to his new phone. «I have a little trouble seeing how this could pose a problem and how I'm suppose to solve it for you.» He added. Donald looked as if he expected something like that, so he took a deep breath and dived straight into it. «I'd like you to participate.» He told Dante.
With a dubious glance, Dante looked over at Donald. «For real?» He asked, just to make sure he heard Donald right. «Yes, I am.» Donald said with a perfectly straight face. Dante frowned and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. «I don't like to have cameras spinning around my head, they mess up my style.» He objected. «Please Mr Dante, it has come to my attention that the federal government wants to have this wonderful concept fixed, sticking agents amongst the participators and thus ruining the whole idea.» Donald pleaded and explained.
Dante had a pretty straight forward policy about such things and it usually came down to one word; NO. «Not interested.» He told Donald, rising from his chair. «Please Mr Dante, reconsider, you haven't heard all of it yet as this problem is linked to the other one I need your help with.» Donald said, also rising while gesturing for Dante to sit back and hear him out. «This better be good.» Dante mumbled, sinking back to his chair.
Donald leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, getting a serious look on his face as he did so. «The next one is pretty bad, I dare say bad even by your standards, Mr Dante.» He admitted. Now that caught Dante's attention. Donald had always had that you-can't-touch-me-even-if-you-caught-me-red-handed aura about him, so he's always confident. Once had Dante seen his confidence shrink down to an embarrassing fart and Dante was the one that made that happen. Could this be the one? The one that Dante was looking for, the killer of his family? «Several buildings I own all over town are having problems, the basements and lower floors are messed up as if... hell, a big something, a mole of biblical proportions is having the time of its life under my buildings. The value of the said buildings have sunken drastically as the news leaked.» Donald explained to Dante.
This was big, in more than one way. Dante had been up against all sorts of things, but nothing like this, nothing this big. In most cases the devils were interested in keeping a low profile, for whatever reason. Most likely because they were automatically drawn towards sin, evil and other charming characteristics that were all trademarks of criminals. These criminals usually kept things away from the public eye, so the devils kinda just followed their lead, though that was just an educated guess from Dante's die. He couldn't really tell for sure.
«The shit really hit the fan a the day before yesterday.» Donald admitted. «A warehouse of mine out on Portland had a big hole in the basement and apparently some damn kid had slipped inside to do some voodoo or whatever. So far I've managed to keep a lid on it, keep the police and press out of it. I need you to set things straight for me Dante, double quick.» He finished, looking Dante straight in the eyes. Rising from his chair, Dante took a deep breath before he stretched towards the ceiling. «I'm all over it.» He told Donald, which seemed to put him at rest. «Though how are these things connected? One thing you want to put on a webcast and the other must be secret at all cost. Where's the link?» Dante asked, out of curiosity if nothing else.
Sighing, Donald turned around in his chair and looked out his office window. «The reality TV concept is a bit rushed, but it will work well as a smokescreen. As I told you, the damage to my buildings are extensive, but I figure if I let 20+ guys run around with guns and explosives, people will dismiss the damages as from the reality show and not by something else.» He explained to Dante. «Besides, I know how you work to some degree and I figure that in this case, you're going to need all the smokescreen you can get.» He added over his shoulder with a satisfied smirk. «Sweet deal, sounds like you've got it all covered.» Dante complimented him.
From there it was pretty much a done deal; Dante would tag along with Donald's game until the FBI decided that the reality TV show was too dangerous for them to be placing top agents there, yet an effective way to deal with criminals. Parallel to this Dante would run his own little game, looking into whatever was causing a mess with Donald's buildings. There was even a prepayment deal involved; Donald had stumbled over something that might be of Dante's interest during an auction in Berlin. It had been stored away and kept under lock and key until Donald returned from his business at Honolulu.
Arriving at the address written on the memo from Donald and with key in hand, Dante walked inside the storage as if he owned the place. The place was interestingly enough deserted for some reason. Not that Dante minded, he was used to it and when it came to special payments such as these, Dante preferred to have some privacy. Unlocking the door, the rusty hinges groaned as the door was swung open. The room behind the door was small and rectangular in shape, with a single item at the far end and only a round window in the ceiling to provide light.
Dante didn't have to go any deeper into the room to know what was in there. It was a thing that reeked of evil, stronger than anything he'd felt before. This was no small player, this was beyond any doubt one of the bigger guns in the game. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Dante could make out what it really was. It was a stone statue of a woman, obviously in pain and agony, with a big sword planted deep into her chest. Dante felt as if he was drawn to it, it was calling out to him. Although he didn't dare listen in for the details, it was pretty much the same old shit as always; pledge your loyalty to me and I'll grant you blah, blah, blah...
Although he'd heard it a hundred times before, this time it was different. In a nutshell the sword gave Dante the creeps, which didn't happen often. As a matter of fact this was the first time in nearly two decades that Dante was genuinely scared. Shaking the whispers of temptation out of his head, Dante slammed the door shut sending a loud echo through the hall he stood in. Leaning on the door with both of his hands Dante took a moment to gather his composure and calm down. Then he heard it again. Apparently the sword didn't need a clear line of sight to call out. In response, Dante locked the door and took a few steps away from it.
Troubled and shaken up by the events that had just transpired, Dante figured it was best to leave this place for now and prepare for the show that would play out later this evening. Without delay, Dante headed back to his office and started his preparations. Guns were cleaned, given a fine tune check and loaded with fresh bullets, the shotgun was given the same treatment and his sword was given a short run over the grinding machine sending orange sparks flying like a crazy fountain. Throughout his preparation, Dante had a gloomy look and was troubled. That damn sword, he couldn't shake it off for some reason. Perhaps some good ol' action was the cure? Dante hoped so. Keep the hands busy and the mind free, as the saying went.
Arriving at the appointed location and at the appointed hour, the whole city was turned upside down over the TV event of the decade. The Love Media PR machine was pulling all the tricks in the book to get as many viewers as possible, Mr Love himself would host the season opening show and would later return when it was time for the grand final. Dante, along with his fellow gamers were standing on top of the Love Media building on Staunton Island with multiple helicopters hovering above, some for media coverage others would later be transport for the participators in order to drop them off at random locations around the city, thus beginning the hunt.
The host arrived and the show began. It was obvious that Donald Love loved the camera and today he was truly shining. Hell he was like a sun ready to go supernova any moment. Rules were explained along with rewards for the people taking part. It was the usual prices; a playboy bunny of your choice, various items from the sponsors, fortune and fame. Criminals earned their freedom plus getting their record wiped so clean you could use it as a mirror afterwards. In addition, you get to live to see the light of another day, now how about that?
Dante was a little surprised when he noticed who were sitting on the commentary panel. Every darn chief gangster in town was there; Luigi, Joey Leone, Tony Cipriani, Salvatore Leone, El Burro (or Donkey in certain circles) and Asuka along with her brother Kenji whom was also handling the online bets. With Donald behind the wheel they could pull all sort of tricks, so Dante figured that they were invited to have a good time with the option of scouting out potential handymen and doing some discreet business among themselves.
Finally the moment had come, the helicopters landed and each player was teamed up with a camera man before they boarded and took off. The games would soon begin. One of the staffers came up to Dante and whispered: «Mr Love says the camera man is just for looks, as soon as you get off you're on your own and we'll dismiss it as a camera failure on our end.» Dante nodded his understanding before he too boarded and was taken to Portland before sliding down a rope military style.
While the whole town was playing games, Dante went down to business. If things had gone according to Donald's plan, Dante should be smack in the middle of the area that had been hit the hardest of Donald's buildings. As he looked around, he got the feeling of déjà vu. Eventually though, Dante just shrugged it of as one-of-those-things, figuring he'd been all over town several times over during his many adventures, and that that was all there was to it.
Entering the storehouse that had the front door blocked by yellow crime scene tape, Dante didn't waste any time and headed straight for the basement. Once down there, it hit him why he had the déjà vu feeling. It was the same place that he got summoned to less than a week ago. The scene looked a lot like it had when he'd left, though Dante hadn't really taken much notice of the scenery when he was around for the first time. At any rate, as far as he could tell, the only big difference was the knocked over table and the whole in the floor.
Taking a closer look, it became clear to Dante that the hole had been punched from underneath and upwards, since pieces of broken concrete could be found lying on the floor around the hole. Dante wasn't a fan of jig-saw puzzles, but he figured that if he bothered to, he'd find that the various pieces would fill in the hole nice and clean once put together. As for the hole itself, it wasn't that big, roughly at the size of a manhole if even that. Squatting down next to the hole, Dante flipped up his cellphone and took a few pictures of the hole with it.
On closer inspection, Dante noticed that there was blood on the edges of the whole and a few pieces of cloth mixed with some shredded flesh. «Must be from that ugly bitch that summoned me. Something caught her and dragged her down, fast and violently. She probably didn't fit through the hole originally, but whomever or whatever was doing the pulling made her fit.» Dante mused to himself. The next thing that caught Dante's eye was a few odd looking rocks. They looked like they had first been in a molten or liquid state, then dripped off from something and landed on the floor only to cool down to become hard rock again.
At that point, Dante agreed with himself that it would be better if he could consult with Ada and Leon on this one. Once he had those pieces together he might consider asking Trish for some input too, though ever since that incident at the roof he was somewhat reluctant to bring her in on this one. It was, by the looks of it, simply too big. Leon was fresh to the team, adding all the unnecessary risk to the case Dante was willing to invest already. Until he knew where he had Leon better, Dante would keep Trish out of the loop. While Dante was thinking things over, his cellphone began to ring. Answering it, Dante learned from one of Donald's co-workers that one of the FBI agents planted amongst the gamers was pulling some dirty trick to track down and take down his opponents off guard. «Alright, where is he? I'll deal with it.» Dante sighed.
Killing humans was something Dante did, though somewhat reluctantly. Only exception to this rule was when a human made his mood go sour or that Dante needed to give the general public a reminder of just who he was and what he was capable of doing should someone choose to get on his wrong side. This was a different matter altogether. Donald had asked for his help and he had given up some pretty nice payment. Even if Dante would never use the sword himself, he could destroy it along with whatever evil that rested within it. Plus Dante was more or less expected to play along, to keep up his appearance with the city's local gangsters if nothing else.
The FBI agent was last seen at the Pan Lantic constructions site on Staunton Island, where he did his last kill and is currently taking a breather. Dante headed out in the open and shifted to his demon self in a quick flash and soared to the skies. Flying straight to the construction site, Dante glided slowly in, landed in a discreet corner of the site and shifted back to his human self. Cameras would be all over the place and there were limits to what Donald could do with a live webcast. Taking the elevator to one of the top floors on the unfinished skyscraper, Dante readied his shotgun and looked around as the skies above him grew darker, rumbling with distant thunder and began crying tears of rain.
No sound aside from the rain and an occasional gust of wind could be heard. Slowly and on silent feet, Dante walked around, his weapon ready and his senses on high alert. A couple of footsteps caught his attention and he spun around, landing on one knee, taking aim. Thankfully he managed to halt himself in the last second, almost blasting the camera man who filmed him eagerly. He must be all pumped up with adrenaline, Dante thought, allowing himself to relax a little. Per rule, the camera man was just a spectator, he wasn't allowed to give hints of where the other gamer was or in any way assist either player. For security reasons he wore Kevlar west and helmet with the word PRESS written on the chest and back in big white letters.
As the concrete floor was getting soaked from the rain, Dante trusted his instincts and took aim at some crates holding scaffolding pieces and shot one of the barrels on his doubled barreled shotgun at them. Splinters of wood scattered about and the loud boom from the shotgun blast chased after the silence for a brief second. Fast feet pitter-patted from right to left, someone was crouching behind tool boxes and crates with construction materials as Dante traced its movements by sound only. A gap between two crates gave Dante the window he needed and with a timed shot, he hit his opponent somewhat, though most of the blast was lost due to the crates.
Cracking his shotgun open to reload, Dante's opponent took the chance with arms wide open. Popping up from behind the crate, he held his Colt Python with both hands and rested his arms against the top of the crate he stood behind. Within a fraction of a second he had his aim clear and pumped off two quick rounds before diving for cover again. The first shot gazed Dante's wrist causing him to loose his shotgun off the edge of the floor and down to ground level, while the second shot made a clean penetration through his right torso, between a couple of ribs.
Taken aback by the sheer force of a Colt Python at practically point blank range, Dante fell again down to his knees and gasped for air. «Lucky pig! The rain messed up my line of sight and the recoil threw me off.» The FBI agent taunted from behind his hiding spot. «Shaddup, does your daddy know you're up this late playing with his toys?» Dante grunted as he forced himself back on his feet. «HA! You've got guts man, I'll give you that.» The FBI agent laughed. «Yeah, there's always gotta be a fucker skating uphill.» Dante agreed, drawing his pistols.
The shootout continued, living up to the audience expectations and then some. Tension was thick as raw oil, even for the seasoned veterans sitting in the commentary panel. «Kenji-sama, we're now down to our two last players. Who does people think is going to win?» Donald asked the commentary panel. «People are placing their money on the south-american bank robber. Both his skills and his weapon of choice makes him second to none.» Kenji replied in a calm and very polite manner. «What is your take on this red clad gentleman with his rather special arsenal, a double barreled shotgun just used once before lost, dual raw caliber custom made pistols AND a large two-handed sword, Mr Cipriani?» Donald then turned his attention to Tony.
Looking at the many screens that displayed the shootout from multiple angles and at different zoom levels, Tony made a face of a man that was unimpressed. «I just checked the weather report Donald and there are no blizzards in hell today, so that red devil is gonna come out on top.» He said to Donald. This comment made a buzz amongst the studio audience and Donald didn't press the issue any further, rather leaving the live images to speak for themselves.
The FBI agent had taken a battered Kevlar west from a injured camera man earlier in the match and stuffed it under his jacket. It had saved his butt before and it would work again. He was sure of it, sure enough to bet his life on it. «Oy dude, I'm getting pretty tired of this shit. I'm soaked, cold and bleeding. Wanna call it the day?» Dante called out, as they had again separated themselves after a quick exchange of bullets. Another movement in the corner of Dante's eye made him react on instinct and sprayed bullets after the blurred figure. Ebony and Ivory were shot dry, jammed open in a silent scream for more bullets.
Dante was no fool, he was expecting this. He had noted that his target was moving recklessly and with a level of security that could only lead to one thing; he had protection. From what Dante could gather it was two sided: 1. He had most likely a team of fellow agents either watching or illegally tapping into the live webcast signal and thus give their man lifesaving instructions based on what they saw and heard. 2. He had physical protection on his person, some sort of body armor. Although everyone was sent off with no armor of any kind, just weapons, he must have slipped it on when no one was watching. Considering that the camera man had a bulky camera plus a heavy armor jacket to drag around, loosing him in a building long enough to secure the armor and strap it on wasn't unlikely.
Holstering Ebony and Ivory, Dante got ready. One shot, one kill – do or die time. It would be hard due to the bullet wound he got on their first encounter, but he'd pull it off somehow. If batman could do, so could he. Then it came, the few string of seconds Dante had waited for. The FBI agent came out from his hiding place, rounding a corner of a partially finished wall and as he slided down in a kneeling position to better support his aim, Dante's right arm shot over his shoulder, his hand grasped the hilt of his sword and with one strong arm movement, drew and threw his sword forward, spinning vertically like a boomerang.
The FBI agent never saw it coming, there was not enough time or space to dodge. Dante's aim was off due to his injury, so rather than hitting his target dead in the chest, the sword dug itself through the left shoulder instead. Though due to the sheer size, weight and momentum of the sword, the FBI agent was blown off his feet and sent hurling several feet back before the sword literary nailed him to another unfinished wall. Screaming in pain, the man tried desperately to ease his agony by pulling himself free from the wall. With trembling hands he fingered the sword, trying to get it out of his shoulder, but with only one arm, fatally bleeding and in a state of shock, there was nothing he could do. All his efforts were futile.
Dante motioned the camera man to come over for the final shot. Without a word, Dante walked towards his opponent, stopping only to pick up the Colt Python that he'd dropped along the way. With a short and violent yank, Dante pulled his sword free and the FBI agent dropped to the floor, crumbling down in a foster position, twitching in shock and pain as the pool of blood around him grew steadily bigger. Taking a casual aim, Dante pointed the revolver at his target and with ice cold eyes he said: «Mess with the best, die like the rest...» Before he fired the remaining 4 shots into the man, thus winning the game.