A Touch of Red
By evolution-500
Genres: Horror/Friendship/Romance
Feedback: Always welcome
WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, mature themes and disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Disclaimer: KILLER INSTINCT is a property belonging to Rare and Microsoft while RESIDENT EVIL is a property belonging to Capcom. I do not own any of these characters.
Chapter Thirteen: Questions
"How did this happen?"
Konrad felt the temperature in his office drop, the oppressive hood clinging onto him like Creeping Charlie as he burned with embarrassment, the air unnervingly quiet and still, his concealed face flushed and warm underneath his scarf, the uncomfortable question lingering.
On his laptop, which sat on his brown Italian maple desk, he saw the grimly intense, almost accusatory glares that David and the other members of the Board on the screen were giving him, making the Baron shift in discomfort.
"Well?" David said expectantly.
Konrad frowned, carefully considering his words.
Clearing his throat, he finally spoke. "My staff and I are looking into the matter," Konrad answered slowly. "Rest assured, though, we are doing everything that we can to clear this issue up." He shook his head. "That child had no business whatsoever being on these premises."
Beside David, he saw Sergei Vladimir give a dismissive snort. "You were lucky that the Burnside child hadn't gotten hurt!" He retorted in a deep baritone, his voice possessing a strong Russian accent, making the Baron wince. "Had he been allowed to proceed in the match, who knows what sort of damage he would have sustained. The company would have most certainly been faced with a potential lawsuit, along with criminal charges for child endangerment. To be quite frank with you, Baron, I'm beginning to wonder if we should feel concerned about the way you are managing this company."
Gritting his teeth beneath his scarf, Konrad bristled, his gloved hands tightening into fists. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Sergei crossed his arms on the screen, "The fact that a mere child has managed to infiltrate the tournament on your watch," he smirked, "is alarming, if not laughable. Your estate houses a number of highly sensitive company projects, your castle supposedly boasting the most top-of-the line security within Colorado...and yet, nobody was able to catch this troublesome brat earlier?" He shook his head slowly in contempt, "Your incompetence at running this company is nothing short of staggering, Baron. Lord Spencer would have had a fit were he alive. The fact that you sit as chairman is an insult to his memory. Even I would have been a better candidate for your position!"
Konrad repressed a growl, watching on the screen as David adjusted his glasses. "Colonel, this is completely-"
"Please," Konrad interrupted, speaking slowly as he grinded his teeth. "The only thing that Spencer would have lead this company to was to complete and utter ruin. You know it. I know it. David knows it. If it wasn't for his untimely demise and my acquiring Umbrella, only God knows how bad things would have been. I will admit, things are not perfect, but Spencer's handling was far worse than mine." He then tilted his head. "Then again, I can't help wonder if some of his companies' mistakes were due to your involvement, Sergei."
He watched Sergei smirked, waving dismissively. "Redirecting the blame isn't going to help you, Baron, let alone the company. It still doesn't change the fact this mess was the result of your incompetence. Were I in charge, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."
Beside Sergei, Konrad watched as David spoke, his voice laced with annoyance, "Alright, alright, that's quite enough, Sergei. I ask that everyone here refrain from using insults, including you. This has gone for long enough and is wasting precious company time. This is neither a kindergarten nor a playground - this is where adults come to work."
Konrad felt some measure of satisfaction at the sight of the Russian flinching as he was addressed like a naughty child. Harrumphing, Sergei leaned back into his chair with both arms folded, his mouth tightly clenched.
Prick.
It was hard for Konrad to believe that there could be anyone as insufferable as Sergei, and he had met a number of people throughout the years to fill that category all too well.
Sergei Vladimir, in his experience, had always been an unpleasant bastard to deal with. Cold and arrogant, Vladimir was a former Spetnaz Colonel and a long-time friend of the late Oswald E. Spencer. Konrad had no idea what the full story behind the two men was, and it was a subject of much conjecture among those within Ultratech itself and by his own bodyguard Dieter.
Some suggested that Spencer and Vladimir were distant family members, while Dieter eloquently suggested that they were secretly "fuck buddies", a notion that made Konrad laugh on occasion. A few alluded to some sort of shared Cold War connection, but to Konrad, Sergei's devotion was truly bizarre; from the way he spoke at length about Spencer, Sergei's fervorous dedication almost bordered on obsessive, if not religious zealotry.
There were a number of occasions where Sergei seemed to allude to Umbrella having some deeper significance or destiny, but he had never elaborated any further than that. He seemed to worship Spencer and the very ground that he had walked on, as if Spencer were Jesus Christ himself.
Whatever the truth of the matter was, Vladimir was unlikely to elaborate with anyone that he doesn't view as an equal Spencer's views or his vision for the company, and as far Konrad was concerned, good riddance. Sergei was as insufferable as they came, looking at everyone that he deemed unworthy with nothing but contempt, including the Baron himself.
What was certain, though, was the surprisingly deep-seated respect and loyalty that Vladimir had for Spencer - even years after his death, Sergei was just as dedicated to his old friend's wishes as he were then, something that Konrad appreciated to an extent.
The Baron sat still as he pondered to himself, tilting his head slightly in retrospection.
In a way, he was almost reminded of his deceased friend and butler Jurgen, albeit if he were much colder and militaristic, and to a certain extent, Konrad sympathized with the Russian.
Like Sergei, Konrad too had trouble dealing with loss - even years after his death, the pain of losing Jurgen was still fresh on his mind, forever haunting the Baron.
As the memory of Jurgen's tragic final moments came back with horrible clarity, Konrad used every ounce of his will to drive the memory back, the Baron clenching his jaw.
Poor man. He had deserved so much better than that.
Turning his thoughts back to Sergei, Konrad exhaled in annoyance, his mood darkening.
While he had admired Sergei's steadfast loyalty to his deceased friend, it was this loyalty to Spencer that has proven to be rather troublesome to the Baron. Although Jurgen had his moments of irritability, albeit for justifiable reasons, Sergei in contrast was far nastier than his old friend; he was quick to criticize everything that Konrad did as CEO, always sneering and openly mocking his efforts at running the company whenever given the opportunity. Always looking down at him.
Part of Konrad morbidly wondered just what kind of person Spencer was in life to have been friends with such a miserable bastard.
Then again, given the nature of Umbrella, he supposed that it shouldn't have surprised him that Spencer had been a piece of shit, if not a bigger one.
Hope you're burning in hell, you mangy old scrotum.
Turning his thoughts back to the meeting, Konrad watched the monitor as everyone, including Sergei, stonily stared in silence.
Finally, David started to resume speaking as he pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, "I realize this is a sensitive issue and everyone here is concerned for the well being of the corporation, but it is important to not lose sight of the point of this meeting, which is to focus on the problems at hand. Now then, you were saying, Mr. Chairman?"
Inhaling deeply, the hooded figure reigned in as much of his anger as he could, letting out a deep breath before speaking. "Ja. Thank you, David. As I was trying to tell all of you," Konrad said slowly, "I was also concerned about what happened. Like all of you, I was equally surprised - security should have picked up on the Burnside matter and notified me earlier, if not someone from my staff. I can confirm with the Board, however, that the Burnside boy was not among those contestants whom I have personally interviewed with and selected in Raccoon City. From what we have gathered, Mr. Burnside had registered with the office located in the New Orleans branch, and that he used fake ID supplied by a relative. My staff and I are still looking into the matter, but we should be able to resolve this matter soon without further complications or detriments."
David nodded in approval. "That is good news."
"Is there anything else?"
He watched as David pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose again. "Yes, actually. Could you provide us with an update regarding the status of the Spencer facility and its assets?"
Konrad sighed. "Disposal is underway," he explained. "My staff and I are being very careful not to miss anything vital, so we're being as thorough as possible. The problem that we're facing at the moment is the sheer volume left over by Umbrella. However, we should be able to be rid of the damn things soon enough."
"I gather that there is nothing potentially salvageable amongst that lot?"
Konrad sat back in his wheelchair as he considered what to say. Finally, he spoke.
"In terms of equipment," he said slowly, "maybe. In terms of all the files and data, though, I'm not holding out much hope. We're making an inventory of everything that we find, so I'll keep you updated."
He heard David hum thoughtfully, the bald man dipping his head low in thought.
"Very well," David conceded. "Finally, our Chief Financial Officer, Mr. Sacket, wishes to have a word. Mr. Sacket, the floor is now open for you."
Konrad frowned as he spotted the mousy, bespectacled figure sitting in the corner. "Um, yes. I've been going over some of the financial figures for the company, and I've come across some, uh, rather unusual expenditures, mainly from your Arklay facility, Mr. Chairman."
The Baron sat still, his heart stopping for a moment. Have they caught on to what was going on?
"What about it?" he said slowly, using every ounce of willpower to hide the anxiousness that he felt from his voice.
He watched as Sacket pushed up his glasses. "There have been some noticeable expansions to your facility, plus, some of the figures for R&D have been unusually high."
Konrad nodded. "Ja, the expansions were needed in order to accommodate the staff for Project Fulgore and Project Odyssey."
"And for Project R.I.P.T.O.R.?"
Konrad winced at the name. "Project R.I.P.T.O.R. as well," he said slowly.
'Goddamned Gupte,' he mentally growled.
Who would have thought that his very own genes would have inexplicably created such a monstrous creature?
But even more, who would have guessed that the Board would approve of its use for both military applications and for the fucking pet market, of all things?
And the fact that Gupte went behind Konrad's back to "save" the creature from destruction only infuriated him further.
Of course, the fact that he has featured said-beast in his Killer Instinct program has brought no shortage of complications and questions, especially from the Board, but he had effortlessly explained it away as a marketing ploy for its eventual announcement.
No, he assured the Board, the creature in the show was not the same one as Gupte's creature - it was just a convincing man in a suit and animatronic.
Him, having such a dangerous creature fight in the tournament? What was he, crazy? Perish the thought!
"After all," he had said at the time, mustering up a fake smile underneath his scarf, "who doesn't love dinosaurs?"
David didn't seem convinced, but if he had suspected otherwise, he didn't make it known either to Konrad nor the Board.
Part of Konrad felt a little relieved, while another part of him, however, felt wary - even though the two of them have been friends for a very, very long time, Konrad wouldn't doubt that friendship lasted only so long as it served David's interests.
Of course, the fact that David never said anything about R.I.P.T.O.R. has only made Konrad wonder what he was up to. Whatever it was, it wasn't good for him, and if given the chance, Konrad had no doubt that David would do anything to fuck him over.
"I understand that two Fulgore prototypes are being developed," Sacket said.
Konrad nodded. "That is correct, ja, although one has considerably more advanced hardware and features than its predecessor. That could explain the high figures."
Sacket pushed up his glasses. "Some of it perhaps, Mr. Chairman, but I don't think it covers the whole of said-expenses. Along with some questionable purchases, there have been periodic withdrawals of the tens and twenty thousand dollars from company accounts. As far as I'm aware, those withdrawals have remained unaccounted for."
Konrad frowned, watching the members of the board mumur amongst themselves. "That can't be right. Are you certain this hasn't been some sort of error in the calculations?"
"I've checked twice. While it may be possible some sort of mistake was made, so far I can't find anything."
The Baron heard the murmurs grow.
Sergei leaned forward from his seat, leaning on his left knuckles. "I would like a copy of those financial figures for review."
Oh I bet you do, you arrogant Ruskie fuck.
"Me as well," Konrad spoke into the microphone, his heart racing as he tried to hide his nervousness. "The sooner we figure out the calculations, the better."
Sacket nodded while David jotted something into his notepad.
"Right," the latter said as he wiped his glasses with a cloth. "Now then, regarding the tournament, I understand that with Mr. Burnside's departure that there would have to be a revision to the schedule."
The Baron nodded, conceding, "Ja, that is correct. I'm still going over the list of contestants. It shouldn't take long. Again, I'll provide you with the updated version once the revision has been made."
"Very well. For our next meeting, we'll be covering license fee agreements for our new television stations. Also, as a reminder, we have upcoming negotiations with both Arasaka and Militech on the 27th. Meeting is adjourned. Please confirm when you would all be available via email. Once the dates have been selected, we will provide you all a confirmation along with a secure meeting link. Have a good evening, everyone."
"Auf wiedersehen, David."
With that, Konrad exited the meeting, then shut down his laptop. Once it was off, he closed it, slumping back into his wheelchair.
"Fucking terrific."
Already things were starting to unfold. If this kept up, an auditor would be called in, and then he'd really be fucked.
Just what he needed. As if he weren't fucked in the ass enough already.
Konrad massaged his forehead as he started to feel a migraine coming on.
Christ, I need a drink.
Claire sat alone in the bar, watching everyone with envy as they all chatted, sang and danced with one another, all of them seemingly merry.
Looking down at her glass of coke, her eyes drooped at the sight of her own reflection, the girl stirring her drink in slow, drawn-out circles with her straw as she sat, deep in thought.
Was her decision to enter the Killer Instinct tournament the right choice? Was she fighting to help her family, or had it all been done out of her own selfish desires?
Stopping, she gloomily took a sip from her glass, the girl tilting her head as she contemplated the troubling question.
While part of her had joined the tournament in order to pay for the hospital bills of both her brother and his partner, Claire would be hard-pressed to say that it was entirely out of altruism.
'And now look where it's brought me,' she guiltily thought.
While she was living here on the Sabrewulf estate in a castle, both Jill and Chris were helplessly lying in the hospital.
I should be there visiting them. Comforting them.
Sure, Leon and Rebecca would visit them, but as Chris' sister...her being in this place felt so...wrong.
Claire's eyes teared up slightly, her shoulders drooping as she stared into her drink.
"Hey."
Startled, Claire quickly brushed her eyes, wiping them as she lifted her head in surprise as she turned to her left, her orbs widening at the sight of Piers.
"Oh! Um, hey," she greeted, feeling a little self-conscious.
"Is anyone sitting here?" Piers asked, gesturing to a seat beside her.
Claire waved dismissively, "No, it's all yours."
She watched as he slipped into the chair, drawing the attention of the barkeeper, a heavyset man with a dense beard like Santa Claus.
"So what'll it be?" he asked, his voice craggy.
"One beer, thanks," Piers answered.
Nodding, the bartender went away, leaving the two alone.
"So," Piers began, "how are you holding up?"
Claire blinked, surprised at the question. "Oh, well...things are...okay, I guess?"
He raised a brow. "Are you sure?"
Claire shrugged. "Yeah." She cast a curious glance around. "Billy isn't here with you by any chance, is he?"
Piers shook his head. "Nah, it's just me. Billy's working out at the gym."
"Oh," the girl said, feeling somewhat relieved, watching as the bartender returned with Piers' drink.
"Thanks," the latter nodded.
"No prob, chief," the bartender nodded before departing.
Taking his glass, Piers sipped his beer.
"I take it Billy did something stupid?" he commented. Claire gave him a questioning glance, unsure how to respond until he shrugged, "He's usually a dumbass with women. Trust me, I know."
Claire shook her head. "He's a dumbass, alright."
Piers took another sip of his drink. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She cleared her throat. "Um, no offence, Piers, but...why do you care? Uh, not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but it's just...kind of personal, you know?"
Claire watched as the soldier nodded slightly, "Yeah, sorry about that. I shouldn't have pried." Sweeping his hand anxiously through his short brown hair, Piers started to get up with his drink in hand, "I'll leave you alone. Sorry to have bothered you."
As Piers turned away, Claire raised a hand, "Wait. Um...sorry. Would-Would it be alright if you stayed for a bit? I...uh..." She cleared her throat, feeling embarrassed for making such an admission, "I...could use a friend."
He blinked in surprise, staring at her quietly. Finally, he gave a single nod. "Okay."
The two of them sat at the bar counter in silence, watching people dancing and doing karaoke.
Piers scoffed. "Man, I can't help feeling sorry for poor ol' Bobby Darin," he commented, sipping his beer. "From the racket they're making, they're really butchering his work."
Claire laughed slightly in agreement. "You can say that again." As the two of them sat there by the bar, the girl then cleared her throat. "So, uh, how long have you known Billy for?"
He chuckled. "Ever since we were kids," he answered. "He has a tendency of getting himself into trouble." Piers smiled, "The stories I could tell! He has his rough spots, but Billy's a good guy."
She tilted her head. "Funny, Billy mentioned that he was in trouble."
Piers blinked, giving a look of surprise. "That right?"
"Yeah," Claire nodded. "He said something about getting himself out of a bad spot. He looked kind of...well...scared."
He frowned. "Scared, you say?"
"Yeah." She then shifted in her seat, "You...wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
His frown deepened, his brow furrowing as he stared up to the ceiling. "Weird, he had never mentioned anything to me. I wonder if something had happened during his deployment. I think might he have been on a mission in Africa or something?"
Claire perked up. "A mission?"
"I think so."
"Did he say anything about what happened?"
Piers shook his head. "No. To be honest, I don't really know much. I had bumped into him on the way to Raccoon City and suggested the two of us teaming up for the tournament. He seemed pretty eager to join." He thoughtfully leaned to the side as he sipped his glass. "Come to think of it, actually, Billy has been uncharacteristically...distant, for lack of a better word, since we've met up."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah. It's a little weird."
Claire lifted her hand to her chin, leaning thoughtfully on her palm.
The girl then shifted in her seat. "...You...wouldn't know if he has a drug habit, would you?" she asked.
Piers gave an incredulous scoff. "Are you kidding? Billy, a druggie? He may have used a joint years back, but he's no junkie or dealer if that's what you're worried about."
"Gambling debts?"
He shook his head. "Nah, he doesn't go for that kind of thing either."
Claire clicked her tongue. So it wasn't drugs nor gambling debts. If so, then what was it?
"...I don't suppose he has a partner? Maybe children?" she hesitantly suggested.
Piers blinked in surprise, then frowned. "As far as I'm aware, no." He raised a brow, "Why do you ask?"
Claire shrugged. "I was...just considering some possibilities."
Piers gave her a steady look, then tilted his head.
"...You fancy him, huh?"
She averted her eyes.
"...Am I that obvious?" she muttered.
He shrugged halfheartedly, gulping down his beer.
The girl brushed her bangs back. "God, I feel like an idiot for saying anything."
"No no no," Piers waved. "It's perfectly fine. There's no reason to feel embarrassed. Guess that explains why you seemed pretty sore with him lately."
Claire was silent for a while, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Closing her eyes, she then let out a defeated sigh.
"...Yeah," she said slowly. "I guess I..." Her shoulders slumped, her cheeks growing warmer as she admitted, "I probably shouldn't have been so hard on Billy. It was my fault for expecting too much, especially since I have more important things to worry about such as my brother and the damn hospital bills."
Piers grunted. "Yeah, hospitals are a bitch to deal with. Trust me, I know."
Claire shifted uncomfortably. "I guess the reason for why I had such a reaction is...well..." The girl stuttered and stammered, her cheeks growing warmer. "Back home...um..."
"Yes?"
Claire bit her lip, wondering if she should say anything more.
'Fuck it,' she thought as she exhaled softly.
"Back home," she began, "...I...didn't have a lot of friends. Normally, I had my brother Chris to talk to, and sometimes my classmates Leon and Rebecca, but right now...I...I just can't help feeling so...alone."
As the words left her mouth, Claire felt herself become even smaller underneath Piers' gaze, the girl fidgeting slightly as she did everything not to meet his stare, her cheeks burning furiously.
"It's-It's stupid that I feel the way I do, I know. Plenty of people have it far worse than I do, with even worse hardships. And yet...part of me can't really help it sometimes. I sometimes look around at the couples walking around, wondering what it's...what it's like to...be...well...loved like that. To hold another person's hand. Sometimes I can't help wondering why it was that everyone else was able to find someone of their own, while I myself remained miserable and alone. When I signed up for the tournament, I...I thought that I was doing it for Chris. But..." She shook her head ever so slowly, "thinking about it...I can't help feeling..." Her shoulders slumped, "...ashamed. For being here. Am I really doing this for Chris? Or am I...am I just using him as an excuse in order to justify my coming here?"
As she made the painful admission, Claire felt herself shrink even more, feeling alone in a way that she never thought possible. Never before had she ever felt so completely and utterly helpless.
Beside her, she sensed Piers shifting in discomfort. "So, what do you think?"
Claire thought about it, carefully considering her answer.
"I..." She sighed, "I don't know. Honestly, I have no idea. What bothers me even more, though, is...I don't know what to do."
The two sat quietly at the bar, listening to the bad karaoke being sung in the background.
Taking a sip from his glass, Piers leaned back in thought. "Well," he said slowly, "the way I see it, you and I are faced with two choices. Option one, you quit, at which point you'll have to pack up and go back home. It'll be good for me in the sense that it means one less competitor for me to deal with, but on the other hand, though, it will also mean that you'll be back at square one, if not worse off since you'll be leaving emptyhanded. As far as I can tell about you, Claire, that's not who you are, nor should you leave - you have people counting on you, just as I do. If we quit now, we'd only be letting down the people that we care about."
Claire absorbed his words, then glanced back to him. "And option two?"
Piers downed the rest of his beer.
"Option two, you muscle your way forward regardless." His eyes softened, "Now, I realize that is asking a lot out of you, and not a lot of people can handle the stress. But...you have to remember everyone here is fighting for something, Claire - you, me, Billy. Everyone. There's nothing wrong with feeling scared or lonely...but...don't lose sight of why you're here. Otherwise, who else does your brother have?"
She watched as Piers narrowed his eyes. "Right now, Claire," he said slowly, "you gotta ask yourself - are you a quitter? Are you gonna quit over some stupid guy?"
The question reverberated in Claire's mind, the words echoing.
Exhaling, the girl let out a sigh. "No."
Piers then offered an encouraging smile, nodding. "There's your answer," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "Be strong for your brother, Claire. No matter what. He is relying on you, just like Pete is relying on me. And I intend on fighting with everything I've got for him."
Placing the empty glass down on the counter, Piers than gave a slight wave. "Have a good night, Claire."
She smiled. "You too, Piers. And thank you for the talk."
He smiled back, giving her a thumbs up.
As she watched Piers leave the bar, Claire turned back to her drink, her mood improving.
The clock's ticking was getting louder.
As he sat alone in his office with a stack of documents in front of him, his mood made sour by current events, Konrad's sensitive ears twitched at the monotonously repetitive sound.
Clenching his mouth, he fumed.
Was it too much for Konrad to have a little peace and quiet?
He frowned.
'Just ignore it,' he told himself.
Konrad resumed reviewing the papers in front of him, carefully examining the expenditures...only for the damned noise to break his concentration.
Wringing the papers in his gloved hands, Konrad felt a building fury deep within him, a raging storm begging for release, to be unleashed, his sharp teeth clenching beneath his scarf as a growl started to build in the back of his throat.
Hearing a knock at the door, he suddenly caught himself, though his voice was tinged with annoyance, "Come in."
Lifting his concealed eyes from his desk, he watched as his bodyguard Dieter poked his head through. "You wanted to see me, boss?"
Sighing, Konrad waved him inside, urging the grey-suited figure into the room, the door securely closed behind him.
"Sit down."
Complying, Dieter sat comfortably down in front of the Baron's desk, eying Konrad carefully. "Everything okay?"
Konrad roughly grunted as he leaned back in his wheelchair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Things could have been better," he replied.
"What's this?" Dieter asked, gesturing to the collection of pages and file folders on Konrad's desk.
"Participant files and company expenditures," the Baron growled. "I've been getting trouble from David and the Board following today's little incident with that Burnside boy. Even more, Sacket has been going over the financial figures and has been noticing some discrepancies, so now I'm trying to figure out where these amounts are going, if not how to explain some of them. If I don't, Sergei will be quick in having me removed."
The bodyguard frowned. "Damn, Konrad. Sounds serious."
"Misappropriation of funds is a criminal offence, Dieter, and a good reason to have me removed as chairman - of course it's serious!" He shook his hooded head in exasperation, "This is exactly the kind of ammunition that pricks like Sergei would love to use against me to get what they want." He suddenly paused, then looked over at Dieter suspiciously, "...You wouldn't know anything about these monies being withdrawn, would you, Dieter?"
He carefully studied the bodyguard's face, watching it harden.
"Konrad," the latter spoke slowly, "I will gladly admit that I'm a scoundrel, and that I have what you would call a rather...colorful past. But stealing money from my friends?" He shook his head. "To be honest, Baron, I'm fuckin' offended that you of all people would ask me that."
The Baron winced, tensing his jaw as he dipped his head low with regret. "My apologies, Dieter. It was wrong of me to suspect you. I was only just trying to-"
"I know," Dieter nodded, his eyes softening. "I understand. We'll get this figured out."
Konrad then sighed. "I hope so. But even more importantly, what I want to know is just how the fuck a seventeen-year-old, snot-nosed, pimple-faced brat managed to get into the tournament in the first place?! And under our watch?"
Dieter shook his head. "Could just be a simple case of human error."
"No shit, Sherlock!" Konrad retorted, "But whose?! This was a fuck-up that should have been nipped in the bud long before that little shit was able to make his way onto these premises!"
Frowning, Dieter leaned back into his chair in thought, folding his arms together. "You know, now that you mentioned it, it's kind of weird that A.R.I.A. hadn't detected the slip-up."
Konrad opened his mouth to make another retort...only to find himself faltering.
"Ja," he agreed, his brows wrinkling perplexedly. Now that Dieter mentioned it, A.R.I.A. should have been the first one to have picked up on the error.
If so...why hadn't she?
His brows furrowed.
As if sensing his thoughts, Dieter shifted in his seat. "What are you thinking, boss?"
Konrad leaned back into his chair. "I don't like this, Dieter. Something is wrong."
The computer lab was silent as Orchid sat still in front of the monitor, not paying any mind to the guard standing directly behind her.
She waited until the vid connection was made, watching the screen as her contact Krauser appeared on camera.
"Hello, honey!" Krauser greeted with a partial smile.
"Heyyyy, baby!" Orchid cooed, offering an exaggerated smooch.
"How are things going?"
"Ohh, you know," she shrugged nonchalantly, playing up the dumb girlfriend part. "Things are, like, a little slow around here, but progress is being made. My fight will be coming up soon."
Krauser perked up. "Izzat right? Any idea who you're fighting?"
Orchid then wagged her finger. "Nah ah ah, darling. I can't talk about that, I'm afraid." She then rested her chin on the palm of her hand as she leaned on her elbow. "How are things with you, sugar-bumps?"
He shrugged. "Been doing some overtime on the construction job."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Security's tighter than a nun's asshole."
She gave a mock gasp of mortification, clicking her tongue. "John!"
"Oops, sorry, honey!" He said. "Anyway, how long are you gonna be down there for?"
"Awww, you really miss me, don't you?" Orchid shrugged. "It shouldn't be long. I will need some time to adjust and see how things are around here before I can make any decisions. There are a few obstacles in the way so far, but I don't think it's anything that I can't handle."
"Are you sure?"
The woman in green raised a questioning brow. "Are you doubting me?"
Krauser raised a placating hand. "Uh, no. Me and, uh, the rest of the family are just a little concerned, that's all."
"How considerate," she replied. "It will be a little while. I can't say how long I will be here for, but I should be able to get what I need without any complications."
He smirked. "Good girl. Always figured you would, baby. Let me know if you want to come home."
She smirked back, shimmying her shoulders slightly as she teased, "Ooh, sounds like you want be badly."
"Hey, what can I say?" Krauser shrugged, raising his hands up. "It's a little lonesome around here, darlin'."
"Unfortunately, you'll have to make due without me," Orchid said with a drippy voice, giving a mock pout.
"Shame. I hope this place is keeping you entertained."
She tucked some bangs behind her ear. "It's pretty busy around here. Security is pretty tight, and there are a lot of fighters to go through. The latter are pretty boring, to be honest, though. I shouldn't have any problems."
"Just so long as you behave," Krauser reminded.
A partial smirk rose up one corner of her mouth. "Oh please. You make me sound as if I'm bad."
"That's because you are," he said knowingly.
Orchid let out a light laugh. "Touché." She then leaned forward, catching the muscular blonde by surprise as she gave him a clear view of her cleavage. Running one hand up her along the side of her body, from her stomach upward, she started to whisper sultrily, "Tell me, big boy...what are you wearing?"
Swallowing, Krauser opened his mouth to respond, only for the guard behind her to let out a disgusted groan. "Oh for fuck's sakes, not this shit again! Lady, can you knock it off?! This call is being monitored!"
"Alright, alright!" She raised her hands, sitting back down into her seat. "Sorry, honey, but I'm afraid I've got to go. I'll try to get back to you as soon as I am able. It shouldn't be long before I get my prize."
"Don't keep us waiting, sugar-tits."
Orchid's eye twitched slightly at the nickname as she forced on a smile, breathing deeply. "See you soon." She then blew a kiss at the screen, watching as Krauser disconnected. Once he was gone, she then turned to face the security guard. "All finished."
The guard then nodded. "Okay, just follow me to the desk and sign yourself out, miss."
Following him to the desk, Orchid quietly started to apply her signature, writing her name and the time that she finished her call, her mind laser-focused on her next objective.
For any spy, corporate or otherwise, infiltration of Sabrewulf Castle would have been next to impossible, but her little gamble has so far paid off; none of the security nor the staff suspected anything, nor had any alarm been raised.
At least, so far.
Orchid checked her watch as she exited the computer lab.
While her infiltration of the castle facility has managed to go off without a hitch, the next part of her plan would prove difficult - the waiting.
Any self-respecting spy worth their salt knew that only an imbecile would rush headlong into danger without knowing all of the details; it paid being prepared, which was why Orchid had opted to remain low.
At least, for the time being.
Stepping outside, Orchid took in the castle grounds in their entirety, her intense eyes scanning every section as carefully as she could, not wanting to miss anything important, no matter how trivial.
Every section of Sabrewulf Castle was loaded to the brim with security, many of it near impossible to bypass, with plenty of guards, security cameras, and wandering androids on patrol obstructing her path, and that was barely scratching the surface.
Even more, it was hard to determine how long she had until she was eventually discovered, meaning that there was a ticking clock counting down over her head, causing her to frown in irritation.
If she was lucky, she would have a couple of weeks, if not days.
'Here's hoping that Lady Luck is on my side,' she thought wistfully.
In the meantime, she would play it safe. Fortune favored the bold, but there was a time and place, and it was clear to the spy that the smartest path to take was to be patient in her approach.
Now, let's see what we're dealing with.
Exhaling, Orchid adjusted her short green jacket as she silently roamed along the castle grounds by herself, carefully scanning her environment as she made note of the camera and sensor positions along with the various potential blind spots for them. She observed the guards on patrol, carefully noting their rotations and individual habits and movements, her eyes not missing anything as she checked for hiding spots and potential exits, everything carefully measured.
"Well, it looks like you are really in the thick of it now, girl," she murmured to herself, taking it all in. "How are you gonna get out of this one?"
She stared off in silence, the question lingering.
Finally, a feral smirk, hungry with anticipation, slowly crept up her face. "I love a challenge."
