Chapter 19: Scavengers
"You're sure that's the crash site?" Roman asked the pilot.
"Seems that way," the man answered, his gaze fixed ahead of them.
So much time and he'd never get used to the fact it was almost midnight and the sun was out. How in the world it was still freezing cold was beyond him. One of his men had told him that in a week or so it'd be even colder, and they'd be getting only about three hours of sunlight a day, at best, as well as seasonal snowstorms.
Their unmarked aircraft flew near a ridge mountain, somewhere out in the northern end of Solitas. Roman checked and double checked the instruments, but it all returned positives. Though the visuals were spotty at best, everything seemed to point towards the same fact: Somehow, in some way, the people over at Vale had managed to sneak an entire carrier into Solitas, and he'd never even detected it. He could almost respect it, in the same way he could respect another thief who could elude the authorities as well as he could, rare as the sight of it was.
Needless to say, Roman was impressed. How do you even sneak a whole carrier into a continent? One would think they'd get caught by the military eventually, the only reason he could elude them was mostly because his own operation was small, and he had the SDC backing him. As far as Neo told him, there was no contact between the Hunters and the military, not when that carrier fell.
It wasn't much of a concern at that point in time, even if it could carry a considerable concentration of Aura-enhanced pains in the ass. Nothing could survive a carrier being split in two and crashing. If it could, it wouldn't survive the kind of weather that usually killed anything that wasn't a Grimm or wildlife. They were dead, and that was that, better luck next year, for the next batch of child soldiers Vale would churn out.
Heh, as if, Roman thought. He'd been at the top of his game for the past fifteen years, survived through Mountain Glenn, then the Breach of Vale, and now he was thriving during the Android Crisis. He brought a hand to one of his jacket's many inner pockets as a reminder, all of them filled with Lien cards he could use to give his many subordinates the unpredictable 'five thousand Lien bonus' for menial tasks. At that moment? He was carrying somewhere around a fifty thousand Lien, more than he'd seen in some of his worst years, and that was just on his person. In his safe, tucked away in his hideout? A couple hundred thousand, for emergencies.
Working for the Schnee had its perks, but the man was becoming unstable and a hindrance, Roman couldn't wait to disappear out of his sight. Sure, stealing as much Dust as he possibly could for him was easy, but that was already a station Roman was very experienced in. Jacques wanted to keep as much Dust as he could, even if that meant having to steal it back from the military, at whatever cost necessary.
Roman would like to say he didn't really understand why he couldn't simply negotiate better deals, but that wish was merely because he was a staunch believer in ignorance being bliss. As it stood, he understood well that it would never happen, Atlas didn't want or need more Dust, they wanted control of the SDC. And he was caught in between. Again.
Most of it because of that pale, white-haired woman. You make one bad deal once, and it follows you for a lifetime, he thought.
"I'd advise against going for this," Ironwood spoke up for the first time. He was in the back of the cockpit, his arms folded and stoic as ever.
Roman raised an eyebrow, "And why would we? This is easy pickings. Huntsmen weapons, munitions, vehicles, and maybe even some Dust. Our scouts said the place is deserted, no sign of life."
Ironwood looked as if he was about to say something, then sighed, "Sometimes equipment left alone can become volatile. I'm just thinking this isn't worth the effort."
"If we lose one or two guys, that's that," Roman said. "The money we can make smuggling that stuff out of here more than makes up for it. I'm thinking seven digits, at least."
"That's after the Schnee gets his cut?" Ironwood asked.
"Who said he needs to know?" Roman answered.
Indeed, why did he need to know? Roman was the one paying the men and women in their aircraft that day, and as far as Jacques cared, as long as the Dust kept flowing, he didn't care what Roman did with his own money, in his own time. So what if they'd have to be a little more careful removing some turrets and grenades? If the men didn't know that already, then they deserved whatever was coming to them, and he had around thirty of them anyways, more than enough to get the job done. Could always get more, heavens knew there were thousands of atlesian veterans left to rot in every corner of Solitas.
Roman's thoughts fractured into a million pieces as one of the instruments beeped. He wasn't much of a religious man, but he thanked the gods for it, a welcome distraction. Ahead of them he could see the crash site clearly, and a smile spread over his face, he'd hit the Jackpot.
The crash was covered by a layer of ice, probably a reaction of ice Dust munitions detonating on impact, but it was a welcome development. It meant they'd have to move in through the caves, and that was perfect cover from any patrolling atlesian aircraft. Once you knew how to navigate the things without getting lost, it became easy, not that different from Mountain Glenn.
Well, there were less Grimm to deal with so that was a positive.
Roman moved back inside the airship, inspecting the men to make sure they were properly geared up in their dustsuits before they left. Ironwood moved behind him, silent.
He wasn't fond of Ironwood's stiff attitude, but it was more or less the standard with the man. He thought with a little more time maybe he would loosen up some, but it seemed he was more of a man of action. He hadn't tried anything funny, and the common goal of sticking it to Arthur Watts seemed to be as good motivation as any he could offer. Well, that and the killswitch in his prosthetic but that was not one of Roman ideas. He was a staunch believer in his own charisma, and in the power of monetary motivation.
Well-paid workers rarely rebel, as he used to say.
He finally found Neo, already geared up and ready to go. She was sporting a brand new long coat and a pink, thick wool scarf. She didn't really need one, Neo had Aura so Roman guessed it was more of a fashion statement. Frankly, she'd learned well, they couldn't afford to be sloppy on the job.
Roman planted his cane on the metal floor, "Well look at you, already ready to go. Someone's excited for this."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world", Neo signaled, "Our frenemies from Beacon left presents for us, the least I can do is show up to the event looking my best."
Roman smirked, "Maybe we'll find the fire witch's corpse in there. Some karmic justice!"
Neo smiled, "The perfect holiday gift! Wouldn't you say so, General?" she signaled at Ironwood, ending with a mock salute. Ironwood only looked back, confused. He didn't know a lick of Remnant Sign Language.
The craft lurched and trembled as they descended. Roman waited by the cargo door, in front of his men, Neo to one side, Ironwood to the other. He stood with his back straight, chin up, unfazed by the cold that seeped in as soon as the door opened. It was good for morale, and there were military men behind him, so he had to adjust his act to earn their respect. Plus, if it got him just a step closer to convincing Ironwood to let bygones be bygones, that'd be for the best. James was too stubborn to see things his way, more likely than not he still saw Roman as someone he needed to arrest, nothing more.
They'd landed near a cave opening, and as he walked out, Roman raised his voice to address the men behind him, "Now don't forget, you get paid by what you take! The bigger the haul, the fatter the paycheck!" The men behind cheered, agitated and eager to dive inside the cave system and come out of it holding what would likely be the loot of their lives, most of them had never even seen Hunter weapons let alone touched one. Roman, on the other hand, had seen many and survived enough for a couple of lifetimes at least, a prize of sorts for being the best escape artist in Remnant.
Moving inside, everything was much quieter, only the sound of his men walking behind him. He could even hear their breathing, but none of the humming winds or distant lone bear grumbling in the distance. Completely and utterly silent. These were the times he was at his most alert, be it in the city of Vale, the jungles of Mistral or the villages in between. He checked where he stepped, shifted his gaze, but otherwise found no reason to be suspicious.
Finally reaching someplace other than ice-covered corridors, they found themselves in an open-ceiling cave. A natural formation where snow fell inside, they could afford a short rest there before continuing. If his men were tired before even arriving at the carrier, they'd be doing sloppy work.
"Why stop here?" Ironwood asked, "The men can keep going."
"Haste makes waste, James," he reminded him, there was no reason to be impatient. "We still have weeks before Jacques goes through with his next deal. We've got plenty of time, and there's plenty of space here, perfect for a little snack."
"A bit bullheaded isn't he?" Neo signaled, giggling right after. She brought both hands to her head, index fingers pointing up, the gesture imitating a bull. Ironwood glared at Neo, his expression sour while she only smirked back.
Snow erupted all around them a moment later.
Chaos consumed the cave as figures dressed in animal hide attacked Roman's men. He had the time to think: Natives? I thought they were extinct. A fist connected to his face, sending him back-first to the ground. His attacker was dressed black-dyed fur and hide, and though her fur-trimmed hood covered most features, it had the silhouette of cat ears on top, and the yellow eyes stood out from underneath. A faunus.
Ironwood scrambled for a weapon, diving out of the way to look for one of the men's kits. Roman was regretting his decision to deprive the man of a gun.
As Neo intercepted the faunus, parasol in hand, the woman grabbed the weapon with both hands, preventing it from opening. When Neo tried to pull it out she moved closer, the struggle too close for comfort for Roman to shoot, he couldn't risk friendly fire.
Finally, Neo shook the faunus off, the woman landed on her feet a couple of steps back, pointing a fist at Neo. When she opened her hand, revealing her palm held bolts and screws, the parasol dismantled, falling to the ground in pieces. Blade, shield, Dust chamber all made useless.
Neo stood in place, but the faunus kicked the air to her side and found Neo instead. The illusion crumbled right after, how could the faunus know her Semblance? As Roman pointed his cane, a chunk of his Aura shield depleted when the weapon was violently ejected from his hand. The loud bang that followed told him it was a sniper shot, and scanning his surroundings he could find none.
Just when Ironwood found himself a gun, someone grappled Roman from behind, locking the man into a chokehold. Another, shorter hooded figure stood in front of the ex-general.
"Leave the gun in the holster, James," the woman said. "You have no need of bullets with us."
She threw her hood back, removed the covering that obscured the lower half of her face. James smiled for the first time, the woman had white hair, could it be…
"I'll be damned!" Roman said, struggling in the chokehold, "Here we were hoping for the Fire Witch, and we got the Ice Queen instead!" he laughed, even though his assailant tightened the hold.
Weiss ignored him, kept her gaze fixed on Ironwood, "Tell your men to stand down. Now."
Roman sneered, "Only one problem with that, snowflake. They're my men."
The heiress turned her gaze to Roman, then pointed out to the fighting around them. His men were locked in combat. Though their assailants were outnumbered and only had combat knives, they had already incapacitated more than half his men. The few that were surrounded or threatened used his own men as hostages and shields, pointed the knives at their throats.
Weiss continued, "I can't guarantee you'll all leave his cave with your lives unless you do."
She was bluffing, had to be.
Huntresses didn't kill, they were heroic like that. Even with their backs up against the wall during the breach, they didn't kill the atlesian guards then. Roman looked into her eyes, silent, the Huntress' eyes told him a different story, and the scar across one of them certainly helped matters. He'd seens bluffs in the past, desperate people, and cold hearted warlords willing to go to the nastiest extents to get their way.
This was none of that. It was cold, calculated anger.
Roman sighed, sometimes you just had to know when to fold 'em. The grip on his neck loosened, "Stop fighting! This is Roman Torchwick, stop! Fighting! Now!"
Wearily and slowly, his men stopped, Neo stepped away from the faunus, hands in the air. Eyes turned to him, questioning.
"They're friends," he said, the only explanation he could offer that wouldn't make him lose face, though it was undercut by the fact one of the so-called 'friends' locked an arm around his throat.
"They tried to kill us!" someone shouted back.
"If they wanted any dead you lot would be the first to go!" Roman said sternly. "I'm guessing you fooled the scouts too?" He asked Weiss.
"Not about to reveal that," She looked at the faunus, who let her hood down, revealing black hair and feline ears. Blake belladonna. The woman walked to his cane and kicked it away, a precaution. "But we were expecting the military, and got you instead. You can let go of him, Yang"
The vice-like grip on Roman's neck loosed completely, "Come on, I helped you all take out Adam, that's gotta count for something, right?" he said.
Weiss folded her arms, "As far as I remember, before that you had your men attack Ruby, and during that fight you had them on a suicide mission, blowing up a train at the heart of Vale."
"Hey, that's on the White Fang, not me!" Roman protested, earning a glare from Blake.
"And then," Weiss continued, "After the train blew up, the Grimm started pouring in and Adam was still alive and kicking, you ran away during the chaos."
"Okay that happened, but you can't blame me for it. Do I look like a Huntsman to you?"
"Definitely not," Blake said.
Weiss glanced behind Roman, at Yang, then back to him, "But it is true that you were helpful then. We did find out later that you were working for Cinder, but enough about you." She turned to Ironwood, "I figured you were dead by now."
"More like imprisoned," James answered.
"What, did they throw you in the Dungeon? Can't think of anywhere else."
"Yes, in fact. How is Ozpin?"
"Alive and well. We had him and Amber on our last Interceptor as soon as we pulled ourselves together."
James' eyebrows shot up in excitement "Ozpin was here? And Amber too?"
Weiss nodded, "Only briefly. They are well, though, as secretive as ever…"
"Par for the course then. So your team was on the Carrier then!" Ironwood said.
Weiss smiled, "The Mirage, yes. My sister was there too, we made sure it landed safely with our glyphs. Saved as many Operators as we could."
So that's what the people attacking them were. Beacon Operators. They still keep getting weirder, Roman thought.
James let out a chuckle, "Winter! She really does surprise me at times. And I'm betting the layer of ice on the crash site is only just thick enough to call our attention, to lure us into the caves."
"You'd win that bet. It also provides some insulation as a bonus," Weiss said.
"Smart," Ironwood said.
Roman sighed internally, the two atlesians were so chummy with each other, and it was getting on his nerves. More importantly, he recognized a problem with the heiress' presence in Solitas.
Roman interrupted the two, "As heartwarming as this reunion is, a moment of your attention if you don't mind?"
Weiss and James both looked at him, so he continued, "As willing as I am to cooperate completely," He looked at Blake, his hands in the air so that the faunus wouldn't attack him on past grudges, "There is a problem here, Ice Queen."
Weiss' brows furrowed, "And that would be?"
Roman internally wished he still had his cane on his person, if only for the flourishes he could do to act as punctuation, "I'm currently working for your father, and I'm sure you know it just as well as I do that he is paranoia incarnate. If I don't return to him… Well he's bound to send someone else after me."
She considered the words for a moment, "How much is the old man paying you and your men?"
Roman counted the numbers on his head, "Around five-hundred thousand Lien, plus keeping the military's eyes away from us."
"Tell you what. How does a clean record for you and your men sound?"
It stunned Roman for a moment, he glanced at Neo.
"She's bullshitting," Neo signaled.
"No, I'm not," Weiss answered, to Roman's surprise. "I'm sure you've realized by now that the military is using Grimm Androids to occupy territory. They're expanding. There'll be no place to run if we have a second Great War, they'll continue until north meets south."
Roman's men were silent, watching intently as the heiress continued.
"They just consume everything and move on to the next village. Make no mistake Roman, my father will eventually throw you and your men to the Beowolves as soon as the opportunity comes. There's always another smuggler, or another batch of veterans."
Roman knew what she was doing. She didn't really need to convince him, Weiss had him at 'clean record', she was convincing his men through him. Some of them were leaning forward, listening to every word carefully. He knew it, they knew it, and if any of them had the illusion that Jacques was their ally, they'd be kidding themselves.
"We can, however, stop this before the match is lit," Weiss kept her gaze fixed on Roman, "Before it lights the Dust keg. You'd only really need to do one thing."
Roman already knew the answer, but he still asked: "And what would that be?"
The men looked at Weiss, and she answered: "Get us into Atlas."