protocol_02.03: backhaul
There really isn't much to discuss with the Contessa after that, other than extracting a promise that she'll keep in touch with Elsa and let them know the minute she hears anything useful. Honestly, they can't get much more than that, and although it's always fun to shoot the shit with her sort-of mentor and get all the hilarious stories of baby blacksiders, Anna can see Kristoff's getting a little twitchy and decides not to torture him too much.
"All right, you four, some of us have actual work to do." Apparently, the Contessa can see it too, or just feels like getting them out of her hair.
"Second you hear?"
"Second I hear, Arc." She waves her hand as she settles down behind the desk again. "I promise. Now get on out of here."
Kristoff and Sven are already out the door and waiting for her when she leaves the office. He gives her a look, raised eyebrow and all. "Yeah, yeah, I'm being paranoid," she grumbles. "So sue me. Look who my role models are."
"Oh good, you're learning."
"I'm ignoring you right now," she says as she skips down the stairs. After a second, the boys follow. "I hope you don't mind, but while we're here, I'd kinda like to check the market."
"Just don't expect me to do the talking," he grumbles. Okay, Anna guesses he doesn't like shopping. Good to know.
She shrugs. "Won't take that long. I just want to check if an order I made came in." She only made it a few days ago, while they were waiting on Iwakura to pan out, but her contact's known to work fast, and hey, she's here anyway.
"Well then. Lead on, Macduff."
The boy at the desk tries to not stare at them as they leave, but Anna totally catches him sneaking glances. She remembers being where he is. She tries not to saunter out of there, if only because she just knows she'll be able to feel Kristoff's eyeroll on the back of her neck.
The main floor isn't any less busy since before their meeting. Anna bites her lip, and then grabs Kristoff's hand when he comes up next to her, pulling him along into the crowd.
"Whoa!"
She trusts Sven will be able to keep up.
Kristoff's bigger than her, and it's both a blessing and a curse. She's less likely to get crushed in this crowd with him nearby, but she can't squeeze in through the little gaps like she normally would. It's a weird push-and-pull, a change in her usual dance, pulling him along. Not a bad change. It's like having an anchor, him keeping her from getting swept along and letting her stay on course.
This metaphor is getting away from her.
She sees the makeshift stall she's been aiming at and dives through a break in the crowd with a triumphant yell. Kristoff stumbles out after her, Sven following a few seconds later.
There's someone slow-clapping. Anna looks up to see the grinning tan face of the man she's looking for, black hair flopping over his eyes. "I'd give that one a five," he drawls.
Anna sticks her tongue out at him. "Ugh, lay off, Djinn. You know it's a madhouse."
Djinn pushes off from the stall. "And you're not alone this time," he says, eyeing Kristoff.
"What's it to you?" Kristoff grumbles. She can feel his fingers stiffen in her hand, but he doesn't move away.
Djinn waves his arms in front of him. "Nothing. Just making an observation." He turns to Anna and claps his hands. "Right. Lovely as it is seeing you, I'm guessing you're here for a reason."
"Yeah. I wanted to know if my order came in? That stuff?"
He snaps his fingers. "Oh yeah! Hold on." He ducks into the stall and moves some things around before popping back up with an armful of items. It takes some juggling, but he shuffles everything over to one arm so he has the other free. "Two Renraku ceramic knives, armor plates, some cold weather gear, aaand," he says, putting the items on the counter, "a mysterious box of god only knows what."
The last would be something Elsa made her get, a sealed and locked metal box with no markings. Yeah, she has no idea either. "Don't look at me, it's Rime's. Any trouble getting this stuff?"
"Right. Rime." Anna holds back a wince at his tone. He taps a beat on the counter. "Nah, easy, even the black box. Usual price works."
"Cool. Got a bag?" she asks, gathering the stuff together.
He tosses one at her, and she hands him the money, stuffing everything into the duffel. "That's why I like doing business with you, Arc. It's so straight-forward."
"You're ridiculous."
Djinn laughs and bows. "Never claimed to be anything else. Don't be a stranger."
She waves before turning around, tugging Kristoff along. He shakes himself before quickening his pace to walk in front, his bulk cutting a straight path through the crowd back to where they came in. Oh. Well, this is easier.
They have to wait a bit by the tracks for a train car to come. Kristoff leans back, then gives her a look. "Sounds like you've known that guy for awhile," he says mildly.
Anna blinks. "Hm? Djinn?" She shrugs. "I guess. I mean, he's been my supplier before. He's usually pretty quick. And fair with prices." She tugs on one of her braids, not sure why this is so very important that Kristoff understand. "I mean, he's not out to cheat you or anything. Maybe there are quicker people or cheaper suppliers, but they're usually assholes or take forever. So, best of both worlds? Aaand...I'm babbling."
The corners of his lips twitch. "Just a little." He dodges her half-hearted punch at his shoulder. "So just a supplier? He seems...friendly."
"Ugh, he's always like that, I swear," she puffs out as the train car pulls in. The same girl as before waves them on, and soon they're hurtling down the tracks. "It doesn't mean anything," she mutters, picking up the conversation again. Djinn is a flirt; it's part of his schtick. And anyways, she's not interested. He's got one glaring flaw that she'll never be able to overlook.
"What do you mean by that?" Does the man have ears like his dog? Anna didn't think he'd be able to hear her over the sound of the train, but apparently, she's not that lucky.
She shrugs. "It's what he does. He may not be a cheat, but if smiling for his customers gets him business, well...yeah. He acts friendly."
He stares at her, and it feels like he's looking right through her, at that moment, piercing through all the layers and walls she's built up over the years. Anna feels pinned by the stare, open in a way she hasn't been in a very long time. It's disconcerting. "Rime," he says, finally. "He doesn't believe Rime exists."
And that would be the flaw.
Anna closes her eyes as she breathes out. "Yeah." It's about 50-50 with the Black Court on if they think Elsa even exists. She supposes it comes from being so spread out, such an information network, that someone who's physically not there is hard to believe. But Djinn is good at what he does, and he's fair, and the worst he does is be skeptic.
It's a sin Anna can swallow if it gets her what she needs. But it's not something she'll ever forget.
"Well," Kristoff says, drawing her out of her thoughts, "that's stupid of him."
She opens her eyes to see him looking very serious. Sven barks once, as if agreeing with his statement. Now it's her turn to smile, just a little. "Oh really now."
"Hey, I believed as soon as you told me."
"Yeah, but you also had Doc telling you there were two of us," she points out.
He rolls his eyes. "Yes, well, while one doesn't cross Doc lightly if they actually want their lives to be pleasant, I still believed you right away. And he's got to have known you for longer than I have."
"I've known you for just over a week."
"My point exactly." And now he looks smug. It's oddly endearing. "So it's stupid of him. Which makes me wonder how you fell in with such people."
Anna leans back against the wall of the car, crossing her arms in front of her. "I told you, it was mostly T's fault."
"Sure," he says, bracing on the wall next to her, and craning his head to look at her. "But it's obvious to me that there's a lot more to the Black Court than they want everyone else to think."
She did promise him an explanation. Looks like that time is now. "Right. How about you tell me what 'everyone else' thinks, and we'll jump from there?"
He shrugs. "I basically know them by reputation. My, uh, friends and I were told pretty much not to cross them. You know, scary blacksider network. You gotta admit, they do get tangled up in some nasty stuff."
She could. Anna knew some Black Court jobs dealt with some really terrible people, people that made Prince look like a nice guy. Murder, drugs, trafficking, the Black Court did get tangled up in that stuff. Hell, she'd probably been on some of the jobs Kristoff had gotten warned about. But that's where the Court's dirty little secret was. Or rather, the other one. "That's true. But thing is, the Court's getting involved in that stuff is generally to stop those assholes. I think a few months ago, a team finally pulled down a trafficking ring."
"That was the Black Court?" He sounds surprised.
Anna nods. "Mm-hm. The general rule is to try to not take credit. Keeps the Court looking dangerous, which keeps the nasty stuff away from the rest of the operation."
"Which is?"
"Well, you saw where we came in. That building's owned and operated by the Court."
He turns to stare at her, wide-eyed. "Wait. You mean to tell me that the Black Court, the largest and scariest group of blacksiders in the undercity, run food banks?"
She hums and rocks back on her heels. "And shelters. I actually usually use the entrance by one of the women's shelters, but, uh, no offence, but you'd probably cause some problems if we tried that."
"Yeah, no kidding." He shakes his head. "Really?"
"I'm pretty sure the Contessa thinks Robin Hood is a 'How-To' manual." Elsa chimes in.
"You said it yourself," Anna says, doing a one-armed shrug as she grabs for the hanging strap to brace herself as the car starts slowing down. "If people think you're associated with the Black Court, they leave you alone. So if those places ever need to, they've basically got the Court on speed-dial to deal with problems."
The train car pulls up to their stop, and they hop off as soon as the doors open. It isn't until they've gone back up the elevator and headed out the doors back onto the street that Anna continues. "Of course, their involvement in the food banks and shelters is kind of not advertised, because, well, the last thing they want is for the people who actually need it to be too scared to show up. Because that would be stupid."
"Of course." He shakes his head. "It's brilliant. They've got the old subway tunnels and buildings where all sorts of people come to all the time. No wonder they're the largest intelligence network down here."
"Yeah. Most people are loose affiliates, like me. There are individual teams too, but it's pretty decentralized. Most things of interest just get passed along to the Contessa and her crew."
"You're not going to get in trouble for telling me all this, are you?" He says, frowning, eyebrows pinched tight. He jams his hands into his pockets.
"Nah," she says, then grins brightly. "I'm pretty sure she likes me."
"Oh my god. Anna."
"I am still ignoring you right now!" she says cheerfully. Kristoff snorts, trying to cover his laughter, while Sven just woofs quietly and wags his tail, pushing his furry head underneath her free hand. She rubs his ears automatically.
"You're incorrigible." Elsa deadpans. "If you need me, your Highness, I'll be working."
"How about you go to sleep?" There isn't a response. Anna bites her lip. This is fun, right? Easy? But it was like this last time she glitched, and...it's just paranoia, right? But still. "Elsa? Elsa!"
"What? I thought you were ignoring me."
Anna lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "You are such an ass."
The conversation on the rest of the walk back is lighter after that. Kristoff tells them the story of an early job he did, when Sven was barely out of puppyhood. Anna can't help but crack up at the image of a merc falling off a bridge into the harbor because Sven knocked him over while playing "fetch" with an extremely valuable package. Whatever works.
Whatever works. Anna didn't realize then, but it sorta becomes the theme for the next while. She knows it'll take Contessa time to tease out any sort of lead on Scratch, but just waiting for it is killer. She can't even bring herself to take another job, just in case something comes in when she'd be working. So instead, she's in this ridiculous holding pattern.
Sanctuary's floors have never looked so clean.
It's a good thing T's put her to work, the fiend, because at least she knows Kristoff maybe-probably feels similarly. He's been spending most of his free time at Doc's clinic, for mostly the same reasons, he claims, when he meets her for lunch at Sanctuary every day. He's just as tense about it, just as itching for word from Contessa. And Anna would be lying if she said that both his and T's efforts to keep her calm and thinking straight during the two weeks weren't welcome. Because Elsa glitching three times in that time period would have made her flip out entirely without them.
Anna had thought that the glitches were bad before. Hell, the one right before the Iwakura job freaked her out good. But now? Every time Elsa glitches, it feels like there's a noose around her neck, choking her. Like there's an invisible timer somewhere, and the clock is running down. It doesn't help that the basic information about Helios's special press conference went public, and now everyone knows about the arcology plan. It's a pretty hot topic of conversation in Sanctuary, mainly people worried about just how it's going to screw them over in what ways, but when Elsa's glitching, T has to actually send her to the kitchen to chop vegetables. Which says more about T's state of desperation to keep Anna from having a panic attack in the middle of her place than anything else, considering Anna's kitchen talents.
She's really not proud.
But after two weeks, something finally drops.
"Hey."
Elsa's exhausted voice cuts through the noise of the kitchen, and Anna nearly slices off her own finger when she jumps. "Rime!" she yells, catching herself when Keys glances over to make sure all her limbs are still attached.
"Before you ask, I'm fine." Anna scowls, because Elsa just sounds thinner and thinner every time this happens, and she's clearly very much not fine. But before she can call her out on it, her sister continues. "Listen, I got a message from the Contessa."
This time, Anna does drop the knife. "You mean...?"
"Get Kristoff and Sven and your gear. We're going to Weasel Town."
It isn't actually named Weasel Town, at least, not officially. But everyone calls it that, even the people who live there. The name is unfortunately fitting. If Anna's normal sector benefits from being unofficially run by T's protection, Weasel Town's are questionable under the Duke's iron fist. It's right between the other side of the Docks and Jeorling, which is arguably bad enough. But it's a hive of crime and scum on it's best days. Anna knows she was incredibly lucky to have fallen into T's sector rather than there; she wouldn't have lasted a night. And the only real protection she has in there is her Black Court credentials and her bulletproof vest.
She puts more faith in the vest.
"Weasel Town? Seriously?" Kristoff asks as they hurtle down the subway tracks. It seemed like a much better idea to use the Court's network to get there than to walk or, even dumber, take Kristoff's car. Well, only dumber if they ever wanted to see it again.
"Yes, seriously. Contessa gave me the location of one of her people working at a bar down there. He said he heard about some of the Duke's men moving Helios cargo around. And apparently not their normal stuff."
"Everyone's talking about that these days, though."
"That's true. But Contessa's man overheard one of them drop the name Scratch. So it's worth checking out."
"Overheard," Anna asks, "or plied with alcohol until they talked?"
"Little bit of Column A, little bit of Column B."
"Of course. What was I thinking?" She huffs and leans against the train door, letting her fingers tap a beat against the metal. She's twitchy, she knows she is. That thrumming energy is back, and it's worse than ever. Her entire body sings with it, like a live wire, arcing and bright. She can't concentrate on the feeling; it's too live, too dangerous, too easy to dance on the edge and fall off. She can't afford to fall, not now.
A stray thought crosses her mind, and she frowns as she grabs hold of it. "What is it with all the sketchy people and the titles? First Prince, now Duke." Because yes, she knows she's changing the subject, she is totally allowed at a time like this. Even if Kristoff is looking at her like she's nuts.
It sometimes amazes her just how smoothly Elsa can switch topics along with her. "Must be some sort of prerequisite."
"Mn. So, does that mean when you go all supervillain, you're going to be the Snow Queen? To fit with the rest of your theme names?"
"...ah yes. And then what would you be? The hero who's sworn to take me down?"
"Are you kidding?" She's almost offended. "I'm expecting to be your right-hand-woman. Come on now."
"Of course you would."
"Damn straight."
Kristoff rolls his eyes. "All right, you megalomaniacs. Plans for supervillainy aside, do you have any more information from the Contessa, Rime?"
"Not directly. We're supposed to meet up with the guy, and he'll tell us where we need to go." She pauses for a second. "Somewhat reasonable precaution, seeing as how it's on his head if things go south. He probably wants an escape plan."
"Clever of him." Anna blows her bangs out of her eyes. "I guess that means us. Yippee."
"Better hope things don't go south," he says dryly.
Anna slaps her hand over her face. "Oh god, now there's two of you. Who thought introducing you two was a good idea?"
"Probably Doc."
"How the hell is she a doctor again? How is this healthy for me?"
"Says the girl who jumps off buildings," Elsa responds, totally unfairly because Anna always has a harness and rope, thank you. "Anyway, he's expecting you. Order a Lacrimosa and a Last Word. And don't forget you're in the middle of Weasel Town. Watch yourself. You remember what happened that one time."
How could she forget? It had been an early job, when she was nearly fresh to the gig. The intel had be mostly okay, but had been annoyingly silent on other people going after the same mark. Accidentally crossing one of the major gangs down here had been hazardous to her health, and most of that night is a blur of bullets, running, and Elsa's frantic-but-even voice in her ear. In the end, she'd managed to get away with the package, minus an inch of hair and her jacket.
She'd really liked that jacket. She'd liked how it threw off the aim of the guy who nearly shot her even better.
Anyway, turns out? These kind of people have long memories, if they survive long enough. The next few jobs she had to take in the sector had not gone over too well. It's tapered off, but Anna still remembers better than they do. Which is why when they exit the tunnels to the street level, she's walking with her hand hovering over the hilt of one of her knives. If she's gonna have to fight, she's gonna make them regret it.
Kristoff seems to have a similar idea. He's got his rifle slung on over his shoulder, ready to pull down and aim a shot in a second. His spine is straight, shoulders squared, and Anna realizes it coupled with his walk makes him look bigger, more intimidating. Something inside her relaxes, knowing without even having to ask that someone else has her back. Even Sven is alert, coiled and ready for trouble.
They probably make quite a sight. She can feel the glances of people hanging in alleyways and outside buildings as they pass over them. Not worth the trouble, it seems. Good.
Things aren't much different in this part of the undercity, but it feels worse than what she's used to. Just a feeling. The people look rougher, more haunted, more desperate. Buildings are cracked, crumbling, boarded up, and no one's even taking an effort of doing anything. It's not as bad as Jeorling, but, well, that's damning with faint praise. Nowhere's as bad as Jeorling.
Elsa feeds directions into their ears, letting them walk purposefully towards wherever she's taking them. It's easier to focus on that, her sister's cadence taking her mind off of everything except the present. She can think about how much a shithole Weasel Town is later.
The bar Elsa leads them to is in better shape than the rest of the area. Blacksiders hanging out outside glare at them, but don't make a move to stop them from going in. Anna takes a deep breath, opens the door, and strides inside, Kristoff and Sven right behind her.
The smell hits her first, the harsh antiseptic and bleach smell nearly burning her nose. Poor Sven is too well-trained to even whine, although it has to be worse for him. The bar is brightly lit, light shining off of polished chrome. Right. Easier to clean up, less likely to be damaged in crossfire. It's that kind of place.
There's only one person behind the bar, despite the number of people sitting around at it or in booths. The light shines off his blonde hair and the buttons on his tuxedo vest. Hopefully, this is their guy, or this might get awkward.
Anna ambles up to the bar and catches the guys attention. "What'll it be, ma'am?" he asks politely. Probably too smart to be anything else, even if she'd eat her shoe if half the people in this bar deserve it.
She hears Kristoff's sharp intake of breath, but focuses on the bartender, trying to stretch an easy smile on her face. "A Lacrimosa for him and a Last Word for me."
The bartender's eyes sharpen. "Absolutely. Coming right — you!" he startles, staring at Kristoff. "K— what are you doing here?"
"It's Adze, and I could ask you the same thing," Kristoff rumbles. "I haven't seen you since you broke up with her."
The other man puts his hands up. "Hey, that was amicable. It didn't work out, and we split." He looks at Anna. "Aren't you going to introduce your friend here?"
He scowls. "This is Arc. Arc, this is...what the hell are you calling yourself these days?"
"My name," he drawls. "I'm John."
Anna raises an eyebrow. Not a blacksider, then. "Pleasure. What the hell is going on?"
Kristoff continues to glare at John. "We know each other."
"I think she's probably figured that one out." John sighs. "I used to date his sister."
"Foster sister."
"Semantics," he says, waving his hand. "Don't tell me she's not basically your little sister in every way that actually matters."
"I get the feeling these two are going to go at it for awhile if you don't do something." Elsa's being dry again. Although Anna does have to agree.
"Anyway, as entertaining as all this is, we did order," she points out.
John blinks, then straightens up, pushing blonde hair out of his eyes. "Right." He looks quickly around the bar. "Look, I'm about to go off-shift soon. How about I make your drinks and then this guy and I can catch up?"
Well, they want to talk to him anyway. If this not-really-a-cover is the cover he's going to use, well, she's seen worse. "Sure," she says, shrugging. John nods and goes over to mix the drinks neither of them are actually going to drink. She turns to Kristoff. "Foster sister?"
He rubs the back of his neck. "Grew up in a group home. He does have a point; they're all basically my siblings." He scowls at the bartop. "He was her first boyfriend."
Well then, that explains things. Maybe. Anna briefly wonders if she'd understand this apparent maze of sibling overprotectiveness about dating if Elsa had been there growing up, but she clamps down on that fast. No sense in dreaming about it, not right now. And she'll get to do it later, right? Along with all the other things they missed out doing over the years.
Her heart hurts. Later. She'll think about it later. Not when they're right in the middle of the Duke's territory, surrounded by people with itchy trigger fingers.
Something must show on her face, because Kristoff looks concerned. "Hey," he says quietly, bumping her shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she mutters. "I'm fine. Come on, your friend's coming back."
He gives her a look. "'Friend' is probably pushing it," he says, rolling his eyes, but drops the rest of it. John comes back with two drinks in his hands and places both down in front of them, then steps back expectantly.
Anna grabs hers and brings it to her lips, letting the liquid touch but not sipping. "Nice. So..." she says, putting the glass down and throwing money onto the bar. Amusing as it is that Kristoff actually seems to know their contact, they do have a job to do.
John looks at her and subtly shakes his head. "Not here," he mouths. Then he grins, blue eyes shining with laughter as he swipes the cash and rings up the tab. "So how terrible has this guy here made me out to be?"
Kristoff scowls again, and she nudges him with her elbow. "Not very much, actually."
"What are you doing here anyway, John?" Apparently, he got the message and decided to at least try to play nice. "Last I saw you, you were still in the Rittenhouse sector with the rest of us."
John shrugs and wipes down the bar counter. "Things didn't work out. Had to come out to this sector. I won't lie and say it's been great, but..." He shrugs again. "It is what it is. You're still over in that sector?"
Kristoff nods. "Yeah."
He looks at his watch. "So, I'm off-shift now. How about we take this conversation elsewhere?"
It's gotten colder outside. The sun must have gone down, even if there's no obvious change in light down here. Everything's in that perpetual half-twilight murkiness, which is worse than if it were actually dark somehow. Anna pulls on a pair of gloves, thin but warm, and wishes she remembered a scarf. Even though those are impractical and just begging for you to get strangled. Still, warmth. She's just glad her cold-weather gear came in. It's going to be a cold winter.
The blacksiders that had been hanging out outside the bar have left for something better to do. They still don't stick around right outside. John leads them down a trail of side-streets and alleyways, and Anna knows Elsa's tracking them like a hawk. Wherever they end up, she's sure her sister will keep them from being overheard.
After a few minutes, they end up in an abandoned alley. John looks around one more time, then slumps, shoulders dragging downwards under some unseen weight. "Okay, I think we're clear enough now."
"Closest people around I can see are at least two blocks away," Elsa relays into their ears, and Anna watches Kristoff's stance relax a smidgen once he hears her.
She's about to open her mouth, but he beats her to it. "John. What the hell."
"Look, I seriously had no idea when I sent the Contessa the message that it'd be going to you. I had no idea you even knew her."
Kristoff crosses his arms. "I didn't until recently." He tilts his head towards her. "Arc's the one who does. Me and Sven are just working with her."
John rubs his face. "Right. Okay, that makes more sense." He peers at her from between his fingers. "Er, no offence."
She shrugs.
"How did you end up tangled in the Black Court anyway? Last I saw you, you had plans for working security. That's what Sis said your last fight was over. And now you're working bar in Weasel Town?" Kristoff asks.
"It's seriously not like I planned it that way." He sighs. "I started working freelance, not quite blacksider level, doing a couple of security jobs. Mostly legit, even. But I got...well, I was stupid and took a job for the wrong guy. Before I knew it, I wanted out of that gig but the only thing I could do is end up working bar there." John slumps against the grimy alley wall. His lips twist into a wry smile. "Working as an informer for the Black Court at least made it palatable."
"Speaking of, the Contessa said you had some information for us. I'm gonna guess you've got some kind of condition on it," Anna says. Because that's how things worked down here. Of course, she supposes, if things went completely smoothly there's hell to pay.
His smile turns into a wince. "Yeah. Er, sorry about that. Like I said, I had no idea it'd be you," he nods at Kristoff, "asking. I kinda feel bad now. But I'm in a bad spot." He exhales loudly. "So I'll make you a deal: I lead you to the warehouse where the Duke's goons dropped stuff off, and you get me out of Weasel Town in one piece."
Anna and Kristoff trade looks. It's not a terrible idea, on the face of it. It just depends on how hard getting him out will be. If he's telling the truth, it won't be that bad. But...well, everyone has secrets down here, especially secrets you don't want old acquaintances and maybe-friends knowing about. She should know; she's been the princess of secrets for awhile now. Anyway, it's Kristoff's sort-of-maybe-friend, and it's info she needs. Which, really, is a great split. Ugh, why is nothing in her life easy?
They're going to do it. It's taken three weeks for Contessa to get them this, and something inside her twists at the thought of making Elsa wait any longer than she has to. And, well, Kristoff knows the guy, and despite the gruff words and history, he clearly still maybe gives a shit about John.
Sven whines at their feet and thumps his tail once. Well then. Looks like they're all in agreement.
"All right, that sounds fair," she says. "But just so we're clear, how hard is it going to be to get you out of here 'in one piece'?"
John shrugs. "Well," he says, drawing out the word. Oh great. "It's hard to say?"
"Try." And Kristoff's sounding less than amused.
"Look, I said whatever it is you're looking for? It's got the Duke men and Helios all over it. At least. Either one isn't a problem, but together? You guys have something weird going on. And the blacksiders I overheard mentioned a third-party." He holds up his hands placatingly. "Whatever it is, there are some very nasty people involved. And I'm ratting them out."
Put it that way, okay this seems reasonable.
"There might be something else," Elsa murmurs into her ear. "This sounds too convenient. Or he's a lot more scared than he's telling us."
"Can you get anything?" she asks subvocally, pretending to consider his offer.
"Trying to. But it'll be hard to say." And Anna realizes Elsa's sounding really tired. Shit, the glitch.
"Rime..."
"Not now. Focus on what you have to do here," Elsa says, sharp and cold and utterly implacable. Stubborn ass.
John's staring at them expectantly. "So? Are we good?"
Anna nods. "Yeah. Let's get going then. Sooner we get in, the sooner we can get you out of here."
"Fantastic."
She let's him lead, half a step behind, and Sven flanking him. Kristoff brings up the rear, his hand resting on the butt of his rifle. Her own hands are hovering over the hilts of her knives, and every sense she has is on high-alert. John leads them through the twisting streets and broken alleyways of Weasel Town, staying out of the small amount of light afforded by the lampposts that actually work. She tries not to wince as she realizes they're moving deeper and deeper into the heart of the sector. It's going to be hell to find a different escape route if they have to, as there's no way she wants to dump more responsibility in Elsa's lap right now. But the farther in they go, the less Anna knows the geography.
Finally, John stops at a non-descript warehouse. Seriously, it looks like the most generic warehouse she's ever seen. If warehouses came from warehouses, this would be an example of one. And she's mentally rambling and oh my god, Anna, focus.
She takes a look at the lock. It's electronic, of course, so she pulls out the electronic kit and puts it over the pad. "Rime, need you."
"On it. Just one second...there." The lock beeps, and the door hisses open. They all quickly get inside, Kristoff closing the door behind them. The inside of the warehouse is dark. She digs in a pocket for a chemstick and cracks it, casting everything in greenish light, which really just makes everything more creepy. The place is empty, except for a stack of crates near the back.
"You don't need me over there, do you?" John asks. Anna turns to him, slightly suspicious. He holds up his hands. "It's just...plausible deniability, right? I don't need to know what you guys are mixed up in. Honest."
The less people know about whatever this is, the better. Right now, she'll trust John about as far as she can throw him, which means the further he is from Elsa, the better. Well, metaphorically speaking. "Here," she says, cracking another chemstick. "So you're not in the dark." The 'so we can see you' is left unsaid. He takes it without complaint. So she nods at him, and the three of them leave him as they move to the back of the warehouse.
The crates also look completely non-descript. They also have electronic locks, so once again, Anna puts Elsa's lockpicking kit to good use. Kristoff hauls the top off one when the lock clicks open, and they peer inside.
The crate is full of...some kind of liquid. Anna pulls up a bottle and stares at it. It's...some kind of antifreeze? That's weird.
They open a few more crates. Some cryo gear. Metal Anna remembers from her father's lessons as really good for low-temperature uses. Magnets. She relays this all to Elsa subvocally.
She rocks back on her heels. This is what Helios was getting the Duke to get? None of this makes any sense. She looks over at Kristoff, but he just shakes his head. No idea either.
"Rime, got any idea on this stuff?" she asks.
"...no."
Anna's head snaps up. "You hesitated."
"I...no, I didn't."
"Yes, you did." She wouldn't have noticed normally, but Elsa's just a tad off. She'd chalk it up to exhaustion, but that denial clinches it. "You know something. Goddammit, Rime, you don't get to keep secrets right now."
Elsa is slow in answering, the seconds dragging on like years. "Okay, okay. Fine." There's a pause, as if she's weighing if she should lie or not. "I know what this is for."
And something drops like lead to the pit of Anna's stomach. "And that would be?" she asks through suddenly dry lips.
She imagines Elsa closing her eyes. "It's for me."
The words hit Anna like a brick. "What do you mean, 'it's for me'? How does that make any goddamn sense?" Why in god's name would Helios or whoever the hell it actually is need a whole bunch of cold-rated materials for...her...sister...
She's four years old again and can't sleep. So she crawls out of bed and pads over to her sister's room, not caring that she's waking her older sister up, because Elsa always knows how to fix things. She shakes the other girl awake, ignoring the sleepy mumbles and half-hearted shoves, and begs for the magic. And Elsa cracks one eye open, brilliantly blue and shining with mischief, like a secret just for them, as the sly smile Anna remembers like it was yesterday spreads across her face.
And Anna remembers. Remembers snow and ice, snowmen in her bedroom and sledding down the front hall as their parents laughed behind her. Remembers her sister's hands in hers as she gently pulled her along on ice skates in the dining room.
Suddenly, she can't pull air into her lungs. "Elsa!" she hisses, not bothering with the subvocal. "You have goddamn ice magic?!"
"I thought you knew!"
"No, I fucking didn't!" Her jaw is clenched tight. She only just remembered. Her memory from before the accident is spotty, caught only in flashes. Apparently, the fact that Elsa is a goddamn wizard was one of the things she lost. "You could have told me sooner!"
"Okay, okay, I realized you'd forgotten. But how was I supposed to bring it up? 'Oh, by the way, I'm a human ice machine?' Yes, that would have gone over well."
Anna's teeth hurt, she's grinding them so hard. Kristoff, it seems, is wisely staying out of this. Because she's suddenly realized a disturbing implication from all this. The accident that Elsa was lost in, it was planned. And now Anna's got a horrifying idea of why. A kid with magic powers? There's reams of stories about how well that would go over in the real world, and it looks like her sister just proved them right. She suddenly imagines a little girl, locked away, and forced to do magic for cold and uncaring scientists. A science experiment, which explains why Elsa has computer access, if only to keep her somewhat placated, and why she sometimes has to go away and comes back sounding wrecked.
She can't breathe, it hurts, but oh, there's something burning inside her. She's angry. Because Elsa didn't trust her. "You didn't think this was even the least bit relevant?"
"Yes...yes, okay, of course it's relevant." There's a pause, and Elsa just sounds so very tired. "But Anna, if I told you earlier, you'd have reacted exactly like this."
"Well, of course—" she starts, before Elsa cuts her off.
"I know you. If you'd known from the very beginning, you'd have put it all together then because I know you're not stupid. And you'd have gone running off without having half the skills you have now and gotten yourself killed."
Anna closes her eyes tight and breathes deeply. Okay. Okay, she has a point. She would have done that. Doesn't make everything better, but...okay, it stings a little less now. Still, she should have known. Should have remembered. And Elsa should have reminded her. But what's done is done. They're still deep in the middle of Weasel Town, and Anna is a big enough girl to admit that maybe this isn't the best place for this conversation with her dear sister.
"Okay. Fine. Don't think this conversation is over, Rime. I'm just putting it on hold until we get the hell out of here."
"I expected nothing less."
Anna looks at Kristoff, waiting awkwardly off to the side. He's locked the crates again while she was busy arguing. She's still angry, but she can turn it down to a smolder right now. When they're back in her apartment, Elsa is going to get an earful, and that'll be that. Because Anna's got a goddamn list of shit Elsa's done that pisses her off, and this is just the last straw. But she can hold onto it, for a little while. She doesn't want an audience anymore anyways. If nothing else, her sister doesn't deserve to have this aired out in front of John.
Although she wishes Kristoff hadn't been so damn helpful. Slamming lids down would have been nice.
Instead, she stomps back over to where John is waiting, letting the top of her anger bleed out on the floor. "Okay," she bites out. "We're done here. Let's go."
John, to his credit, just blinks and nods. "Right."
They step out of the warehouse, and Anna locks the door behind them one more time. No sense in letting anyone know someone was here who shouldn't have been. She turns around. The sooner they get out of here, the sooner they can lose him, and the sooner she can maybe stop being pissed off.
He grins. "All right. Let's get out of here."
Anna is about to respond when a loud crack rings out, and a hole appears right in the center of John's forehead.