A/N: Good lord, this is turning out to be so much more trouble than it had promised at the start x( Ahh well, I hope it'll be worth it in the end xD

"Hello, this is Quistis Trepe, Balamb Garden SeeD rank S calling. I would like to speak with Mr Lorrington, please."

"Off course Miz Trepe, von moment pleaze."

...

"Ah, Miss Trepe, I was expecting your call. How may I help you?"

"You were expecting me?"

"Not you personally, I was expecting a call would come through eventually, from Balamb Garden. How may I help you?"

"Ah yes, I'm calling about the status of one of your prisoners. A Mr Almasy."

"We are in possession of such a man. What is the problem?"

"I would like to arrange a meeting with him at some point over the next few days please."

"I'm not sure-"

"It is of the utmost importance and will greatly affect your position should I not be allowed to make contact with him at any point."

"What would this meeting be about?"

"Determining his mental state, how much he remembers from the time of his possession by the sorceresses, how in control of his own body he was during the war, etc."

"Mhmm, and what would all this information be going towards? If you don't mind my asking, of course."

"Judicial re-trial, Mr Lorrington."

"Oh my."

"I must have this meeting arranged with Mr Almasy to be at the soonest convenience."

"I'm afraid he won't be available for the next few days, Miss Trepe. Perhaps even a week."

"Why? He's not going anywhere is he?"

"No. But I would prefer it if-"

"My soonest convenience, Mr Lorrington. I don't have a lot of time at my disposal. I'm a very busy person and I need this information at once. I will arrive at the prison in two days time. Whatever needs to be done with Almasy can either be completed by then or it will have to be postponed. Is that alright?"

"Well yes, bu-"

"Thank you. Good day, Mr Lorrington."

Click.

Lorrington put the phone down, a grey expression crossing his face. This was going to cause him a lot of trouble, he could tell already. He thought grimly that instructing Heimlich to patch all calls through to his mobile was a bad idea. He could have just not known that Trepe had rung and everything would have been far less stressful that it had managed to become in the space of a two minute phone call. And here he was, sat in a board room waiting for the bank's director to return with the reports from his latest induction, while out there in the middle of the desert, Almasy was running around in an underground maze specifically designed to pop him off. And the Trepe lady was going to arrive there in two days expecting to see him alive and well enough to talk to! Somehow he didn't think she would be too pleased if they presented her with a body bag. Particularly not a full one.

He fished a handkerchief from his suit breast pocket and mopped at his now sweating brow. A judicial re-trial? But the original verdict had been unanimous! Surely there was no need for a re-trial? Besides, Trepe would have had to have been on the Jury for her to be able to call a re-trial, and he was fairly sure she hadn't been there. At all. She was still unconscious at that point, if he remembered rightly.

Flipping through the contacts on his phone, Lorrington selected one and rung it. Heimlich answered on the third ring.

"Thiz iz ze office of-"

"I know, Heimlich, it's me." Lorrington snapped. "Quickly, what is Almasy's status?"

"Err..." There were the sounds of quick footsteps and then the tinny noises of the television speakers before Heimlich answered. "He iz injured in ze shoulder and ze hip. He iz in ze acid room. Wid ze stairs."

Lorrington gasped; sudden fear for the punishments Trepe would undoubtedly inflict upon him should Almasy be killed, washed through his system. "Quick!" He squeaked, bouncing in his seat and gripping the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white with the pressure. "Turn it off! Turn it off! Quick, Heimlich! Turn it off!"

There were more sounds of running feet and a clatter as the phone was dropped to the floor.

Brugheisen watched, bemused as Heimlich informed the mobile of Almasy's position, received some screamed orders, dropped the phone and tore out of the room, leaving the device still shrieking on the floor. It was quite interesting if he was honest and he was more than happy to see Heimlich run off his feet at barely a moment's notice. Perhaps Almasy wasn't meant to be in the Game at all. Maybe Heimlich had acted on his own and was soon to be fired for causing damage to some precious prison bait. That would be good. He would enjoy seeing the rat-like little man being taken down a peg or two.

For his part, Almasy was already half way up the staircase and running with a limp.

The phone was now calling desperately from the floor for Heimlich's swift return. Muttering about peace and quiet, Brugheisen struggled from his chair and made his way over to the phone, using the coffee table and other surrounding furniture for support. It was a shame really that he was getting so old. He was now nearly entirely reliant on his stick and without it he felt... vulnerable.

Bending slowly, grimacing as his old back-muscles complained loudly, he got a hold of the phone. The struggle back to vertical took longer than it ought to have done and left him red faced and puffing. After struggling back to his chair, he collapsed into it and let himself just sit for a moment, getting his breath back. This was honestly embarrassing and he was glad Heimlich wasn't there to see him, he would never hear the end of it otherwise.

His countenance returned to him, he raised the phone to his ear, still shrieking and said, "He iz gone, James! Stop shouting, you vill deafen me."

"Almasy!" Lorrington squeaked, "Is he hurt?"

"No." Brugheisen said, watching as Almasy continued to climb, seemingly oblivious to the pool of acid that was slowly creeping its way up the staircase behind him. By now, the stairs themselves would have spun, creating a slide and Almasy would have slipped down it to the deadly liquid below. But obviously Heimlich had reached the control panel in time and averted his death. "He iz fine."

Lorrington exhaled loudly on the end of the line and Brugheisen could just imagine his friend mopping his brow, fanning himself with his hankie and maybe slouching, relieved in his seat. "How is he doing then?" Came a shaky voice, confirming Brugheisen's suspicions immediately.

"He iz at ze top of ze stairs." He narrated. "Valking trough ze doors. Diz iz ze electric room iz it not?"

Lorrington gulped audibly. "Heimlich should have turned it off."

Brugheisen raised his eyebrows. "Iz Almasy not meant to be in ze Game?"

"He is..." Lorrington said, sounding hesitant and most likely chewing on his lip. "But a SeeD, Quistis Trepe, wants to see him in two days time. So if he's dead we will definitely have a law suit on our hands."

"Ah. So you have turned ze Game off. Right. But James, vhat about ze oder Players? It vill be easy for zem as vell."

"We'll call it a technical difficulty." James said, sounding a lot more sure of himself now that it was clear Almasy wasn't disintegrating at the bottom of some transmutating stairwell. "The other Players can begin their levels again."

"And Almasy?"

"He can restart it in a few days. Once Trepe is finished with him."

"Very vell."

A/N: Urgh... Reorganisation sucks x(