Chapter Four

In Lieu of Pleasantries

Nack had prepared for dealing with Sonic's little buddy boy.

He had prepared for dealing with the cold.

He had prepared for a job helmed by a child—hell, he'd done it before.

The weasel didn't like any of it, but he had prepared for it. What he hadn't prepared for was the young singer bounding down the front steps of the manor in a fluffy designer jacket and thick snow boots. He could only rest his head in his palms and suppress a loud groan as Mina Mongoose gestured the maids down to the elaborate vehicle, boxes of equipment loaded in after them as Nack sulked on top on metal roof. They paid him no mind as the systematically loaded the crates of supplies—one marked with large red sticker proclaiming itself explosive—into the Sonic Quake. Stella stood by the opening hatch with a pen, checking off each piece of luggage on a clipboard.

Yet at the sight of the mongoose, the fox girl dropped it all into the snow with an undignified plop and ran over to hug Mina around the waist tightly. The other woman's tinkling laughter filled the air, as well as nagged at Nack's quickly developing headache. He spread his fingers across his brow to glare down at the popstar as if to will her out of existence. Maybe, he thought irritably, if I try JUST hard enough I can make her just go away and not come back.

It didn't work.

Of course it didn't.

Things never worked out that easily for Nack.

With a growl, he slid off the frosted metal of the Sonic Quake until his boots hit the snow with a loud thump. One hand straddled his belt, playing across the lines of his gun holster, while the other one pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes. Stella scurried back to her clipboard and pen quickly, burying herself in a conversation with one of the lemming maids about what she had missed. But her ice blue eyes still stayed trained in on the mongoose; Mina had crossed her arms defiantly and cocked her head to the side in inquiry.

"I think Nack's gonna start the fight, 'n Bark thinks so too. We're completely open to wager if you wanna make an opposite bet, y'know!" Bean leaned out the side of the open cargo hatch, legs kicking behind him as he laid flat on the interior surface. Behind him, Bark was stacking up crates and holstering them into place; the bear only briefly turned to snort at the prospect of getting involved with whatever was about to break out. "Aw c'mon, don't gimme that. He's been so snappy lately. He's lookin' for any excuse to start a pissing match with anyone."

"Snappy, huh?" Stella frowned. "I guess he took the send off a little hard."

"Well yeah, not that he's gonna say anythin' about it." Bean turned over onto his back to dramatically throw his arms in the air. "Good ol' fearless is content to keep his whining to himself! But he's perfectly happy taking out his crap on everyone else. What a jerk. Why do we still work for him, Bark?"

The bear said nothing in return, just turned back to roll his eyes.

"All right, it's pretty damn fun most of the time. And there's all sorts of fantastic shinies on our way in this mad, mad, MAD world!" Bean replied to Bark's empty silence, letting his arms drop to his side. His head lolled to the side, downwards off the side of the hatch, to send an uncharacteristically smug grin at the white fox. Stella wrinkled her brow. The dynamo was not easy to understand—she wondered if anyone understood him at all, and if he intended it that way.

It wasn't as if Bean was stupid. She knew that.

The arctic fox could see calculation glimmering in his eyes.

Thinking back, Stella wondered if she had ever noticed that before. She couldn't remember a time. He had seemed almost jester-like, comically out of control at all the right moments. But this could only be a given, Stella realized; no one could always perfectly misfire. She had been a year younger then, and indulgent to the ideas of adventure that were buried in the lives of the Hooligans.

Another year older, another year wiser?

She stared at her clipboard absently, mind lost in thought. It seemed like a mindless jumble now, rather than the carefully laid out plans of a child to seek her lost parents. The girl tried to not think about it very much, the idea of what was on the other side of this hill she was climbing. In her mind's eye, since she had returned, she had seen a pair of people on the other side—a pair of people from the past with their arms open wide to whisk her away back into the normal life she had been made for.

That was the right direction to go. It was her goal for the past year.

So Stella had called back the men who had assisted her and been her caretakers for the past year. But, now that they stood in front of her, someone now stood behind her as she pulled herself up that cliff side to look at her parents.

You're fighting for a world that they can't really be a part of.

Her hands clutched tightly at the wood board.

But that's the world you BELONG in. With the people that CARE for you.

Bean watched her intently, the shades of conflict practically etched on her features. But he said nothing for possibly the first time in his life, hand tracing the snow on the rim of the metal. Alerted by the unusual silence, his companion turned around as if to grab Bean away from the girl but stopped when he actually saw her expression. The girl's face was nearing morose as her head sunk lower downwards. His lumbering form stilled as he exchanged a concerned glance with the green bird, who simply shrugged helplessly. Encouragement was neither of their fortes.

But they DO care. They wouldn't be here if they didn't—

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a pistol firing into the crisp winter air. Stella's head snapped back up in alarm.

"YOU ain't comin' with us!"

"Oh YEAH?! And who's gonna stop me, huh?! You?! Just try it, you crooked little lowlife!"

Bean snickered. "I win."

Bark just shook his head and returned to the depths of the cargo hold. Stella, meanwhile, flung her clipboard into Bean's hands and rushed over to the now arguing pair. Nack had his gun raised above his head as he yelled explicative at the mongoose; Mina simply shot back with a sharp, barbed tongue and a fierce glare. Though Nack had pushed himself upwards to a more intimidating height by balancing off his tail, the pop singer had only rose up on her toes to yell right back into his face. Stella stared, hands held up as if to stop them. She just wasn't quite sure how.

"Absolutely IRRESPONSIBLE—"

"Oh that's some hot shit comin' from—"

"You are just the EXACT type of person to think ONLY about himself—"

"Like I'm gonna sit here and take shit from some self-absorbed little pop star princess brat who thinks—"

"Like you're the CENTER of the world—"

"Took the words RIGHT outta my mouth, Popcorn!"

"Will you both STOP?!" Stella bellowed, stomped her foot indignantly against the snowfall. It didn't give much under her paltry and youthful strength but it got the screaming duo to look up at her. As if they hadn't even noticed her approaching. She shook her head. "Miss Mina, I brought Nack and his team into this because I know they're reliable. Nack, I brought Miss Mina into this because I know SHE'S really reliable. I need everyone here to get this DONE. So if either of you have a problem with that then, I dunno, write hate letters to each other or something because nobody has any time for this stupid shit!"

"What the hell can Little Miss Music bring to ANYTHING here?!" Nack protested despite the demand to keep his trap shut. Mina, on the other hand, just glared at him with a tight set jaw. Her fists were balled at her sides. "She's a pop idol, not a fighter! All she's gonna do is piss me off!"

"Everything pisses you off." Mina mumbled under her breath. She was rewarded with a nasty sneer from the weasel. She could tell Nack was about to make some smartass comment and start the whole cycle up again, but Stella stepped firmly in between them. Quickly she turned on her heels to face Nack.

"Mina is doin' a really important job for us, actually." Stella said softly, after moments of staring sternly at the gunslinger. His eyes, trained in on the fox, briefly flitted up to meet the eyes of the woman standing behind her. Yet the child between them suddenly hesitated. "I…I don't really know how'ta…what it's called. How people even do it. But it's helpful."

Firm arms wrapped around Stella's shoulders as Mina drew her back. The mongoose's eyes were closed, sucking in a deep breath before she opened them to face the weasel opponent she had been going against. "Working in the industry makes you put on a face sometimes, and I don't just mean makeup. You have to learn how to talk the talk. You have to learn to play a role and sometimes even be a different person. So that's what I've been doing."

"How the hell does that help?" Nack's tone was laced with more latent curiosity than it was venom. Mina chuckled. It was a knowing chuckle. The kind of know it all sound that send shivers of annoyance down Nack's spine.

"I'm pretty sure someone has to have mentioned it to you by now." Mina commented; Nack didn't like her tone but it was clear he didn't have the upper hand in this situation anymore. So he just clicked his gun back into its holster, all the while eyes never leaving the mongoose. Couldn't take his eyes on this one—celebrities could be and typically were tricky bastards. And spending time with the woman a year prior hadn't exactly warmed his opinion towards her ilk. Granted, she had done plenty of things for which he could say he mildly appreciated, but that was it.

Could never trust these kind, he reminded himself.

"There's a pretty big criminal bunch living in the cave that we're on a crash course for." Stella piped up. Nack nodded slightly; he vaguely remembered something like that being mentioned before. "Mina has been meetin' with a pair of them who I guess are tight in the inner circle. From what we've been told, they all but run the place."

"Yeah, but they DON'T, so we have to be careful. They're working under someone and I don't know anything about her. Not even her name." Mina said, tone hardening. "The pair I'm dealing with is, well, they're not too bright. They could even be lying about their position in their little gang hierarchy, but they were the only ones who I knew for sure wouldn't see through my disguise. I've been meeting with them over the past four months, gaining their trust."

"Yeah, big accomplishment, you gained the trust of a bunch of dumbasses."

"Well, there's only so dumb I can win over, I guess." Mina snapped back. Nack's hand glided over his gun again but the mongoose continued on unabated. "Long story short, I've made them think I'm their friend by pretending to be an arms dealer from Downunda. They think I'm going to set them up with some real sweet deal but I convinced them I need passage down through the cave to recover some precious gemstones and gold hidden in the rock."

"You told them the cave had precious goods in it?" Nack questioned, eyebrow raised slightly. "And if they go after it and forget whatever this deal is?"

Mina laughed and shook her head. "No, they won't."

"Why? Because they LIKE you?"

"No. Because everyone in that cave is afraid of everything past a certain point. They don't go too deep in there. Apparently it's some local superstition. I couldn't honestly get much information about it." Mina frowned. "That was kind of a shame but they were pretty adamant to not talk about it. But they said if I wanted a lifestyle of danger then I was free to go in. It's gonna be kind of a small gap to get us in, only one night at a very specific time, but they can get us in."

"What's their share of the deal." Nack didn't even phrase it as a question; these men were just like his own team. Mercenaries, criminal ones, and greedy for rewards. He knew that such men only worked for reward, not for kindness given to some woman they'd met only four months prior.

"I take the precious metals and precious gemstones I presumably will find in the cave, make a fortune off them, and arm these two to the teeth. Anything that doesn't go into acquiring 'the goods' goes back to them in cash." Mina rolled her eyes. "They're a pair. They want to be rolling in weapons. Neither of them said it but I'm pretty sure they want to boot whoever is in charge off their crime throne and take her place."

"Yeah, good goddamn luck with that." Nack snorted under his breath. Mina tilted her head, eyes squinting at him inspectingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'. It don't mean nothin'." Nack replied quickly. He was looking pointedly away from them now—suddenly the snow-covered ground seemed more important than whatever grudge he had to grind with the singer. Stella looked up at her and shrugged; the little girl clearly didn't think it was important. As she explained the rest of the details to the sniper—what day, what time, names of the criminals in the cave—Mina could not help but stay with her attention fixed on the weasel. He was nodded absentmindedly, as if he wasn't even really listening to Stella.

Mina narrowed her green eyes.

Nack the Weasel knew something, for sure.