Author's note: I'm finally back. After a two month long hiatus! So so sorry for the long delay, but life has been a pain in the butt. I had exams and as everyone knows from my previous chappie, I ran into some trouble with the story plot and outline. So after my exams, when I finally got time to start writing again, I had to really take a step back and look at this fanfic from beginning to end and iron out all the creases and bumps. Not saying that I've got everything smoothed over, but I think I've finally gotten some leeway. I had to indulge in crime/thriller/detective novels and films for the past month just to get the inspiration fairy going. And I'm really grateful to all readers and reviewers who read my previous chappie – you guys pointed out some things I couldn't quite see myself. Helped me to change my perspective on some parts of the story. So thank you very very very very much! I'll admit this chappie is still difficult to write (I don't want to give too much away, but hopefully you'll see why by the end of the chappie) so I'm hoping that at least I'm getting a little back on track. I know last chappie I asked if it would be better for me to write longer chapters (and publish them slower) or write shorter chapters (and publish them faster) and again, I'm grateful that everyone's been very supportive, urging me to do what I see fit. And so I took the liberty to take this two-month break (so terribly sorry it took this long!) because I really hoped that after stepping away from the story for a while, I could get back to it with better chapters and better stories. I do hope these two months have paid off! But, like always, you be the judge and tell me!
FTS-Peace: Thank you for everything! The compliment on my writing as well as the encouragements! I don't know what I could do without supportive readers like you! So thank you thank you very much!
XienRue: I don't know how to say this, but thanks very much! I have to say that you definitely pointed out something I didn't see myself – the fact that I was delaying the inevitable. And I have to admit, when I went back and read it all again, I realised I really was doing that, and I think it's because I hadn't quite worked out the huge climax when Athrun and kira work together to 'defeat' Rau. So yeah, I guess I was developing characters and chugging along slowly with the story plot so that I didn't get there so fast. But I got what you mean and I'm hoping that this chappie is a little bit like a new start to the fanfic. Hopefully from hereon, I can get back to the kind of standard and the kind of passion I had for this fanfic when I first started writing it. So thank you very much for all the advice and the compliments! I really appreciate them!
Hitomi65: Thank you, as always! I'm glad that you still liked it even when I felt it was going downhill. So thank you for being there throughout it all!
Hiyono25518: Thank you! I guess this time it took me an even longer time to write this chappie. Hopefully I haven't lost your interest. I guess Kira and Athrun will come fact to face with Rau one day, but as to whether it's a big problem for them (or a big problem for Rau), we'll just have to see what happens next!
PinkSugarDust: Hmm… I was hoping to make it a memory thing; like Kira really saved Stellar once but she's forgotten it. But then I couldn't quite decide, so I left it ambiguous. Not sure if I'll develop that thread in the future. We'll have to see where the story goes from here. I understand, the previous chappie wasn't all that exciting, but I'm hoping this one will be since there's more action in it. But like I said, I'm not sure. I'm still trying to get my feet under me, so I'm hoping this one will be at least a little better than the previous one? As for Kira and Athrun interactions, well, I believe there'll be plenty more to come. I've got plans for them!
AAA: Heh, I hope they don't fall for Rau's trap, but oh well, there'll be no action and excitement if everything's smooth sailing for them. I shan't say more in case I reveal too much about the next chappie!
Pharrel: Hello! I'm always delighted to hear from new reviewers! And always grateful that you guys will take time to write me a review. So thank you very much for that! And thank you for the compliment on the plot, though I have to say I'm pretty new with crime/thriller/detective kind of stories so there are loopholes in the plot that I try to do my best to fill in, and hope I don't screw them up at the same time…
Nitameicya: Thank you very much for the review! I'm glad there was something likeable about the previous chappie! To be honest, the whole relationship between Kira and Athrun, and Lacus and Cagalli is a little tough for me to write because I'm not sure psychologically how a person like Kira would react, so the whole 'saving Lacus and Cagalli, and not the world' was a little bit like an experiment for me. I was kinda testing to see if it made sense, and I'm glad it did. Also happy that you liked the Stellar part. I often feel that I'm not doing justice to the Stellar character because she is so OOC in this fanfic… hmm… I've gotta really think more about her…
Seiba Artoria: Heh, I was a little hesitant about the whole Rau and love thing. Not sure if I've made Rau too OOC because of that. Oh well… And yeah, I wanted Stellar to start thinking about Kira, though I'm not sure how much I want to develop that. I guess that will depend on how the next chappie turns out. I can see you're a fan of Athrun and Kira interactions too? Hopefully I'll have more on that soon…
Japanje: Nah, I don't intend to give up on the story, although I must say it is getting tougher to write because the story plot is becoming so complex and I often feel that the characters are becoming too OOC. But no, I don't want to give it up; despite all the problems, I've loved writing this story, and loved hearing from the readers and reviewers. And I'm glad that the story was still interesting for you, though the quality might have dropped. Hoping that this new chappie and those that follow will continue to keep you interested!
Chapter 73
Tuesday mornings at Le Creuset Corporation were always hectic. The same as everywhere, but especially so in a multinational pharmaceutical company. It was the time when Monday blues were dying down, and the work was beginning in full swing.
It was a pattern the receptionist working the front desk noted. On Mondays, the crowd would move sluggishly, reluctant office workers trooping across the main lobby, sipping away at their Styrofoam cups, taking in their much-needed caffeine in order to get through the day. But Tuesdays were different. On Tuesdays, people bustled to and fro across the lobby, juggling phones and files and laptops, struggling to catch up on work they should have completed the previous day but could not because it was, well, a Monday.
The receptionist at the front desk was, too, guilty of procrastination. She found herself facing a tonne of work, much of it spilling over from yesterday. Such as the massive pile of mail waiting to be sorted out in front of her. She set about multi-tasking: distributing the letters into various in-trays to be delivered to each department; responding to emails on her computer; replying phone inquiries; and occasionally, glancing up over the countertop and across the lobby, keeping a half-eye on the glass doors of the Le Creuset Corporation, which slid open and close incessantly to allow the constant stream of office workers, visitors and delivery men to trickle in.
The Le Creuset Corporation was a colossal building seventy storeys high, and its lobby was most definitely not shabby. Panelled by glass walls on all sides and laid with well-polished, cream-white tiles, the lobby looked vast and spacious. Dozens of glass trinkets hung from its high ceiling, the centrepiece a crystal chandelier, and underneath, right in the middle of the lobby, was an elegant porcelain statue – a priceless, abstract work of art. It was the first thing all visitors noticed upon stepping into the lobby, and behind it was the front desk, a sleek counter of dark mahogany with a smoked glass top. Class and sophistication – that was what the Le Creuset Corporation was all about.
The receptionist turned back to the heap of mail occupying her desk. The letter on top was addressed to the Finance department. She filed it away into its proper slot, then moved on to the next. Research & Development committee, check. Chairman Rau Le Creuset, check. Public Relations, check. Human Resources, check.
" 'Scuse me."
She was so engrossed in her work that she was a little surprised by the shadow that fell on her. Glancing up, she faced the speaker, a man leaning over the front desk, cold blue eyes fixed on her, silver hair framing his face, and… jeez, was that a scar across his face? She caught herself staring, and quickly, doing what she had been taught to do, plastered a polite and professional smile on her face. "Good morning, sir. Welcome to Le Creuset Corporation. How may I help you?"
The visitor didn't reciprocate her smile. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a black wallet. Flipped it open and flashed it at her. There was an ID card, the top emblazoned with 'National Police Headquarters' and a picture of his face underneath. She glanced at the name.
Det. Yzak Joule (Special Unit).
Tearing her gaze away from the ID, she stood hurriedly, smoothing her creased black skirt with nervous fingers. Now that she was facing him squarely, she could see, behind him, another plain clothes detective with blonde hair and what seemed like an entire team of uniformed police officers. Not good… They were garnering curious looks from office workers, visitors and delivery men alike, though they seemed either unaware, or they simply didn't give a damn. But, the receptionist winced internally, her employer would most definitely mind the fact that there were police officers congregating in the main lobby. It didn't spell good for the company's reputation, and she would be probably be the first to go if she didn't handle things right. She tried to keep the smile on her face. "Can I help you, Detectives?"
"Yes," the one with silver hair and the scar said. He gestured at the blonde detective, who reached into a briefcase he carried and extracted a transparent bag. He held it up so that she could take a better look. Whatever it was, it was badly scorched and the receptionist had to lean closer to make it out. It was an ID card of some sort, though only a quarter of it was left. Just a corner. But underneath the soot, the faint marks of a company logo could be seen. The receptionist recognised it. That logo was sitting on the wall right behind her.
"Why, that's an ID card belonging to a Le Creuset Corporation employee!" she exclaimed.
The silver-haired detective nodded. "We're conducting an investigation regarding a traffic accident. A taxi collided into the front entrance of a hotel two nights ago-"
"Oh," the receptionist interrupted, "that the one all over the news?" She had been following up with the case, not that she was curious about it, but it was hard not to. The case had evolved into sensational news and it was plastered all over the television, the newspapers and the Internet. Especially after someone posted a comment online that suggested that it was not a mere traffic accident but a terrorist threat. The police had denied it, of course – the Police Commissioner even scheduled a press conference to clarify the situation – but the debate was fierce and the denial by the police was seen as a conspiracy. The receptionist didn't buy the idea, but well, who didn't like sensational news?
She leaned over the desk and dropped to a whisper. "Is it true? Is it really a terrorist threat? This morning, on the train to work, I was reading this blog that said the police got a letter from the terrorists but you're not disclosing it. And my colleague told me she heard a guy saying that the woman – the one who died in the taxi? – she was some sort of foreign spy and the government sanctioned her assassination but things kinda got-"
"I've got no comment," the detective snapped, drumming his fingers impatiently on the smoked glass countertop, "I'm not your next-door neighbour who comes knocking on your door to share the silly gossips I've heard."
"Yzak!" The silver-haired detective was interrupted by a hurried hiss from his blonde companion.
But the damage was done. The receptionist leaned back and set cool eyes on the detectives. "Well then, can I help you," She repeated, then paused and added a distasteful, "Detective?"
"Yes, I believe you can," Yzak Joule continued. He seemed completely unfazed by her change in demeanour, though the blonde detective behind him gave her an embarrassed smile in apology for his colleague's behaviour. "This ID card, or what's left of it, was discovered at the crime scene. We'll like to speak to your employees. Someone may prove useful to our investigation."
The receptionist noted the euphemism. There were three possibilities that would explain why the ID card had been found at the crime scene: first, that a Le Creuset Corporation employee had been a witness to the accident; second, that a Le Creuset Corporation employee had been hurt in the accident and third, that a Le Creuset Corporation employee was the perpetrator. But the detective was being coy with his words. He had said "prove useful to our investigation", and that could mean any of the above. And the last would put the company's reputation at stake, and her job too.
She tried to suppress the frown on her face. "Who would you like to speak to?"
"All your employees."
A pause, then a doubtful, "What?"
Cool blue eyes stared back at her, as if he didn't notice her incredulous stare. "All of them," he emphasized, his tone snappy and impatient, "We'll appreciate if you can arrange it for us as soon as possible."
"All?"
"Yes, I'm pretty sure that's what I said."
"Yzak, enough…" the blonde detective muttered.
"Detective Joule," the receptionist fixed a glare on the silver-haired detective, "our company has hundreds of employees. It'll be impossible to talk to all of them based on your sudden request. That will disrupt our company operations-" The stony face of the detective informed her that he didn't care. "And," she changed tactics, "you'll be exhausting your manpower and your time. It will take hours."
"That's why we came early," said Yzak mildly, "The sooner you arrange for us to meet your employees, the sooner we'll be done. Thank you."
"I can't make this decision. I-I'll need to speak with my boss."
"By all means. But we'll appreciate your swift cooperation. Our time is precious."
Fixing a death glare on the silver-haired detective, who glowered back at her in return, the receptionist punched the key pad of the front desk telephone with furious, jerky stabs of her index finger. There was no doubt that she was imagining that the key pad was Yzak Joule's face. She made a call to her manager who re-directed her to the head of the Public Relations committee, followed by the Human Resources Department, and finally to Mr. Rau Le Creuset's personal secretary. All the while, the drumming of Detective Yzak Joule's fingers on the surface of the glass counter annoyed the hell out of her. She spoke to the personal secretary for a while, then finally hung up and said, "This way."
She led them past the turnstiles where Le Creuset Corporation employees had to tap their ID cards to pass through. They set the metal detectors beeping in a furious frenzy. Security guards stepped up but Yzak quailed them with a look. "Our issued weapons," he snapped at a guard who made a daring move to frisk the detective. "You think we shoot using water guns?" That shut the guard up and he and the rest of his colleagues hung back, allowing the newcomers to pass.
Office workers, guards, and a delivery man, stared at them until they squeezed into a lift – no one tried to come after them – and the elevator doors shut them away. They ascended in tensed silence to the seventieth floor and emerged in an elegantly furnished foyer. There was another front desk, this one made out of clear glass and aluminium. A woman behind the desk stood up as they approached and reaching out a hand to shake the detectives', she introduced herself as Rau Le Creuset's personal secretary.
"Mr. Le Creuset will be with you in a moment. If you don't mind," she gestured towards a conference room, "please take a seat inside and I'll fetch you some drinks. Coffee?"
"No thanks," Yzak waved a dismissing hand at her. Ignored the chiding frown Dearka flashed him, then led the way into the conference room. They took their seats around a long rectangular table and waited for the masked man who owned the Le Creuset Corporation.
Thirty floors below them, in a narrow office cubicle, a security guard glanced up as a man stepped into his office.
"Yes?" He said, watching the newcomer curiously. People hardly came by his office. The fortieth floor of the Le Creuset Corporation was home to departments that dealt with the technical aspects of the company: the Information Technology Unit, the Programming Department and the Computer Security Agency, just to name a few. Technology was not the security guard's expertise at all. Sure, he could switch on a computer and tingle with a few programmes on it, but they were a far cry from the things that these technical departments could do. So his job had nothing to do with technology; his job was much simpler - to guard the main computer system. His office was located at the far end of a corridor, a small space beside the main room that housed the large bulky equipment and computers. He had no idea what they did, but when he had accepted the job, he had been told that those large machines drove the main computer system of the Le Creuset Corporation. If they were down, the entire company's operations would be affected. He had an important job guarding it. And though technology wasn't his thing, security detail was.
And so, he was immediately suspicious of the stranger that had entered his office.
"Hey," the stranger came up to the small glass window through which the security guard was watching him carefully, and nodded in greeting. There was a friendly grin on his face, "I'm here to check on the system?"
The guard ran his eyes over the stranger's uniform, pausing a little while on the IT Unit logo and the ID pinned on his left chest. He didn't recognise the man's face, or the name – Neo Roanoke – imprinted on the ID. "Never seen you before," he said. It was a statement, a somewhat guarded one, without the usual pleasantries like "You're new?" or "First day here?".
The stranger knocked back the edge of the cap he wore, which also had the department logo imprinted on it, to reveal floppy blonde hair. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, and flashed the guard a sheepish grin again. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "Yeah, I know," he laughed, "I'm the new guy. Just got in today. To tell you the truth, I'm real apprehensive about this job. The last company I worked in? It was a mouse compared to this giant. I'll admit, getting a job at the Le Creuset Corporation has been a dream come true. You been here long?"
The grin on the stranger's face was infectious. A slight smile cracked the mistrustful façade of the guard's face, "A couple of years."
"A good couple of years then?" the man grinned earnestly. "I mean, even if it's a lousy job. Man, to be part of this huge corporation…" He left the sentence to hang.
"It's been good," the guard admitted. And it was, he thought to himself, even as a security guard, his pay wasn't bad. It was at least better than that offered by his previous miserly boss.
"That's nice to hear," the expression of excitement on the stranger's face softened a little, and became a somewhat serious one, though the twinkling in his blue eyes persisted, "I really need this job. There's this girl… you know…"
The smile on the guard's face widened into a grin. "You want to propose?"
"Yeah," the stranger laughed, "I just… now's not the time, you know? We want kids but the money… Anyway, this job's gonna help me get there, but if I screw up today, I can kiss all that goodbye."
"Why? Bad start?" the guard chuckled.
"Well, you can see I'm here alone on my first day, for my first assignment. I've yet to accustom myself to this place – Man, this place is huge. I couldn't even find the washroom just now, nearly peed my pants – but the guy I was assigned to? My supervisor? He just told me to get my ass here without telling me what the hell I'm supposed to do."
The guard was shaking his head sympathetically. "My supervisor's an asshole too," he lamented, "But don't worry about it." He made a dismissing gesture with his hand, "You're lucky. This 'assignment' doesn't require much. I don't know technology – you probably know much more than I do to get this job in the first place – but all the technicians ever do when they check the system is to make sure the green lights on the right side of the boxes there-" He pointed towards a row of equipment, "-are turned on. I've never seen them being more diligent than that, and the system's never gone wrong."
"That easy?" The man grinned his boyish grin.
"That easy," the guard smiled.
"Thanks, man," he reached a hand through the slot underneath the small glass window and shook the guard's hand. "I'm Neo, by the way-" He tapped the ID pinned to his breast. The guard didn't bother to mention that he had already checked out the new guy's name when he had entered. "-Guess we'll be seeing lots of each other."
"Jeremy," the guard replied.
"Well, Jeremy, thanks! So-" he withdrew his hand and glanced at the towering rows of equipment, "Those computers, right?"
"Yup."
The security guard watched as Neo strode down the aisle, then disappeared behind a stack of computers.
"The ones with the green lights, huh?" called out the new technican.
"Yup."
"Green light, green light, green light. Hmm… check. Green light, check-" For a minute or so, all the guard heard was the litany repeated over and over again, and then Neo's blonde head popped round the corner.
"Just the computers here?"
"Yup."
"Great." Neo returned to the front office and nodded at the security guard appreciatively. "Thanks a lot, man."
"Anytime."
"I'll be along then, before my supervisor decides to take it out on me again."
"Good luck."
"Thanks, I'll need it." He stepped out, then backtracked again and flashed his beaming face round the door, "See you sometime. Owe you a coffee!"
With a wave, Neo Roanoke let the door shut after him; the last thing he saw was the guard's thumbs-up through the small window. Then he turned and headed down the corridor, nodding at the people he passed by as if he fitted in completely.
He rounded a bend that he knew would lead him towards a more secluded corner of the building. There, he glanced at his ID and smiled. Man, he missed those old days where he could get down and dirty doing undercover work. But now that he led the Narcotics Division at the National Police Headquarters, most of the time he facilitated investigations and coordinated undercover agents.
Still, Detective Mu La Flaga hadn't lost his touch.
His challenge was to convince the security guard that he was an employee of the Le Creuset Corporation. The uniform and the ID helped. But from the moment he entered the office, he could tell from the narrowing of the guard's eyes that he had to put up a far better performance if he wanted to get the guard on his side.
There are only two kinds of guards in the world: the first are those who have grown sick of their job and wait listlessly each day for a chance to knock off early; the other type finds some contentment in his or her job and goes about it with diligence. Most guards fall within the first category, especially when they've been at their job for a long, long time and the most exciting thing they've ever encountered is someone popping by to ask for directions to the washroom. Mu had been hoping that he would meet a security guard like that. So weary of his lousy job that he would be leaning back in his chair, feet up on the table, thumbs hitting the controls of a video game with lightning speed as he tried to beat his highest score. Or maybe nodding away with music blasting in his ears from his headphones. He could easily bluff those guards; they wouldn't even give him a second glance.
But the security guard Mu had just met was evidently the latter – an industrious and vigilant man, though he had been in the service long.
Which meant that he was a man not easily fooled.
Time for Plan B.
The best way to put a suspicious man at ease was to find some common ground. To show the other party that there was no need to treat him as the enemy. And that depended on the performer's ability to adapt and improvise.
And adapt and improvise he did.
Noticing the wedding band on the guard's finger, and the photo of two smiling children pinned to the glass window, Mu had immediately spun his story of an unwed girlfriend who wanted children. Not that it was all untrue, Mu smiled to himself as he thought about Murrue. It helped too that he had deliberately placed himself on a lower level, made it seem like he was a gullible and vulnerable junior, all lost and in need of the senior's advice. And last but not least, setting up a common enemy.
For a guy to be working so long at a company as big as the Le Creuset Corporation but remain a lowly security guard in an isolated office meant that there were things effectively putting a stop to the man's career. Mu's guess was that the guard was either plagued by a demanding supervisor who loved shoving the blame onto his subordinates, or more aggressive colleagues who climbed the corporate ladder and left him in the dust. Mu had gone with the first. Made it seem like he was the victim of bureaucratic hierarchies and self-centred supervisors.
That had reeled the guard in. And Mu had waltzed all the way up to the main computer system and completed the mission he was here for.
Now, making sure that no one could see him and no security cameras were pointed his way, undercover agent Mu La Flaga fished his cell out from his pocket and dialled the number he had on speed dial. The phone rang once, then stopped and Nicol's voice came on. "Good news?"
"Yup, I've got the thumbdrive hooked up to the main computer system. Hack away, Nicol."
On the first floor, Lunamaria Hawke was waiting for the elevator. Technically, she wasn't Lunamaria Hawke: the ID in her purse, which she had used to pass through the turnstiles, belonged to a woman named 'Marie Reilly'. And the photograph on it showed a brunette with long hair and glasses.
Everything Lunamaria Hawke was not.
So she kept it hidden in her purse. A little odd considering that everyone else around her hung their IDs around their necks on lanyards. But Lunamaria supposed it would be even odder if she walked around carrying an ID that had a photo looking nothing like her.
She snuck a glance at her watch. Saw that it was three minutes past eight in the morning. Still early. The mission was still on track and nothing had gone wrong so far. But she didn't feel comfortable hanging around the lobby with the security guards just metres away from her, working the turnstiles and eyeing the incoming office workers. Sure, she had passed through without being harassed, but it had been a risky operation. She had had to remove the ID from her purse and tap it, since the sensor couldn't detect it through the leather; she had covered the photo with her palm and tried to seem casual as she breezed through the turnstiles.
Now, she hooked her thumbs and index fingers around the handles of her bag and stared at her shoes, feigning idleness as she tapped one foot on the tiles. Blending in with the crowd like an impatient office worker. Hoping Nicol would quickly give her the signal.
Her cue came then, in the form of her ringing cellphone. She groped for it in her handbag, then hit the green button and held it to her ear. She looked even more like the dozens of office workers standing around, waiting for the lifts, all of them chatting and conversing on their cells.
"Luna," said Nicol, "we're ready. Board the first lift that comes and get out on the twenty-third floor. You'll see Shinn. Take the third lift – the one on the extreme right – you see it?"
"Yes."
"Good luck."
"Thank you."
The phone clicked off and Lunamaria returned it to her purse. And right on time, there was a soft 'ping' that announced the arrival of the elevator car. She waited until most of the office workers had gotten on board, then squeezed on just as the doors glided shut. They were packed close, like sardines in a tin, and she had to manoeuvre her arm past a man in a suit and a woman chatting on her phone to hit the button with the number twenty-three on it.
The ride was an uncomfortable one, and the lift stopped six times to unload its passengers before it finally arrived on the twenty-third storey. Lunamaria got out, as instructed, and the lift doors slid shut behind her, heading on upwards.
The twenty-third storey was home to the Le Creuset Corporation marketing department. There was a foyer, and a receptionist desk, and a tinted glass wall behind it that screened the rest of the department from view. Huge elegant letters were stuck to the glass, confirming that this was indeed the marketing department. The receptionist was busy with a delivery man but she looked up automatically at the new arrival.
And, just as they had planned, Lunamaria stared at the letters on the glass wall above her, glanced over her shoulder back at the lift, then turned round again to look at the office signboard, pretending to do a double-take. Then, as if realising her mistake, she retreated back to the lift and pressed the 'down' button. Not forgetting to feign an embarrassed smile and a discomfited shrug at the receptionist. Like she couldn't believe she had stepped out onto the wrong floor. In return, the receptionist gave her a comforting smile - no need to be embarrassed – and turned her attention back to the delivery man, signing on the clipboard he offered her with a flourish.
Job all done, the delivery man dumped the clipboard into his backpack, handed the cardboard box he was meant to deliver across the counter, and moved towards the elevator, coming up close to the red-haired detective.
Lunamaria avoided the man's gaze. And the twinkle of amusement in his blood-red eyes. She did the thing with her tapping foot and her hooked thumbs and index fingers around the handles of her bag again, trying to look as idle as she could. Beside her, the delivery man unravelled a set of earphones from his backpack – those huge, hippy circumaural ones that covered the listener's ears entirely and shut out all external sounds – and hooked it over his head, flattening his spiky jet-black hair. Then he connected it to his phone, fiddled for a second with the buttons, and began to bob and sway his head in time to a rhythm only he could hear. Lunamaria tried to hide her smile. Man, Shinn Asuka was just too good for this undercover stuff.
She glanced at her watch. Prayed that the elevator car would hurry, but it was after all Tuesday morning, and all the lifts were working full-steam. Eventually, there was another soft 'ping' that announced the arrival of the elevator car, this time the one on the extreme right, just as Nicol had said.
When the lift doors opened, the car was empty and both Lunamaria and Shinn got in. They said nothing to each other, just two strangers in the same lift.
Until the doors slid shut, and they got into action.
Lunamaria pried the clasp of her purse apart and groped for the black package she had hidden inside, alongside a roll of black tape. By the time she turned round, Shinn had already cast away his backpack and was already on one knee, the other bent at a right angle like a step, ready to give her the boost she needed for what she was going to do next.
Shinn patted his thigh to indicate he was ready and with a little running leap, Lunamaria hopped up with the black package under her arm and the roll of tape threaded through her wrist. The height was just nice for her to reach the top and she tucked the black package away behind the security camera, securing it with black tape which she ripped off with her teeth.
Then Shinn let her down again and they both stepped back to take a look at their handiwork. The package was large and bulky and protruded out from behind the security camera. But it didn't matter. People tended not to look up when they were in elevators, especially when there were lots of others inside. Somehow, people preferred to stare at their shoes or look at the ground. And if they timed things just right, there wouldn't be many people using the lift, which would reduce the chances of someone seeing the package.
By then, the elevator was approaching the end of its descent to the ground floor. There was no worry about the lift stopping to pick up passengers on the way down since Nicol had already gained control of the main computer system and was programming a straight, uninterrupted descent. Lunamaria picked up her handbag again, hooking both thumb and index finger around its handles. Shinn slung his backpack over his back, made sure his earphones were on nicely, and just for the fun of it, did a mock salute at the security camera, which there was no doubt Nicol was observing them through.
Then both detectives faced forward again and waited for the lift to reach the ground floor.
When the doors of the elevator on the extreme right glided open smoothly on the first storey of the Le Creuset Corporation, the cluster of office workers waiting impatiently in front of it parted, making way for the two passengers inside the lift - a female officer worker chatting on her phone and a delivery man bobbing his head in time to the music blasting from his earphones. As they stepped away, the office workers filed into the elevator and the elevator doors glided shut after them.
Lunamaria exited with a tap of her ID again. The same manoeuvre, with her palm covering the photograph, and the whole motion as casual and normal as possible. She was still chatting on her phone, even though there was no one on the other end of the line. It made her near invisible in the crowd – people didn't pay attention to office workers talking on their cells.
On the other end of the row of turnstiles, one of the guards let Shinn out with a nod. Who gave a half-hearted wave, as if distracted by the music from his headphones.
They crossed the lobby - Lunamaria first and Shinn several paces behind her – and passed through the large glass doors of the Le Creuset Corporation entrance. Then, without a second glance at each other, they parted ways. Like two strangers who happened to share a lift but didn't know each other at all.
There was silence in the conference room, broken only be the steady dub-dub-dub of Yzak's fingertips drumming against the wooden surface of the table. Dearka watched with some disconnected interest at the deepening frown on the silver-haired detective's face. He cast a quick glance at Rau Le Creuset's personal secretary. Saw that the woman was at least taking the disturbance slightly better than the receptionist at the front desk, whose obvious displeasure for Yzak was written all over her face. He wished Yzak would stop it; he was feeling nervous enough as it was.
The ringing of a cellphone snapped them all out of their reverie. Yzak fished the vibrating phone out of his jacket pocket and barked into it, "What?" He listened for a second then snapped the phone shut without another word. "The two of you," he singled out two of the uniformed police officers and gestured them towards the door. "There's another case at HQ. Take one of the squad cars and head back."
Both officers nodded and left the conference room, and Dearka silently wished them luck. But he was quickly distracted by Yzak again, who was now leaning across the table and intimidating Rau Le Creuset's personal secretary with his cold-blue eyes. "Where the hell is your boss? Having high tea?"
Dearka saw the indifferent mask on the woman's face slip a little and she put on a polite, somewhat restrained, apologetic smile. "Mr Le Creuset will join us soon."
Yzak sat back again and continued the steady drumming of his fingers on the wooden surface. Dub-dub-dub.
The moment they were out of the conference room, Athrun and Kira moved briskly and purposefully across the foyer towards the lift. They were quiet, just two uniformed policemen waiting for the elevator, heading out for their next mission.
A soft 'ping' announced the arrival of the elevator car – the one on the extreme right – and the doors glided open smoothly. They stepped in. Athrun let the doors shut behind them before he fished his cell out of his pocket and hit speed dial.
The phone was picked up almost immediately, with Nicol's voice silencing the ringing, "Yes, Chief?"
"We're in," Athrun said.
"Okay. Give me a second."
A pause and the sound of a keyboard rattling on the other end of the line. Athrun glanced up at the security camera mounted in a corner of the car. And he noted the black parcel taped behind it. He exchanged glances with Kira, who, without waiting for a signal, stepped forward, swung himself onto the handrail lining the walls of the car and extracted the package. He hopped down again with the package neatly tucked under his arm. All in one smooth motion.
In his ear, he heard Cagalli take over the line, muttering, "I don't think that's humanly possible."
"You can see us?"
"Yes. Everything's going according to plan. Mu got the thumbdrive into the system and Nicol's hacked in. We've gained control over the cameras and the lifts. So we can see you perfectly."
"Good."
A second later, the sounds of the elevator grinding downwards came to a halt, taken over by near absolute silence. Nicol had jammed the brakes on the lift, and the elevator car on the extreme right of the elevator shafts was now suspended sixty storeys above ground.
"Okay," Nicol said. "We're set and ready to go. Hook up to your hands-free earpiece."
The blue-haired detective pulled the device from the utility belt around his hip and eased it into his ear. Beside him, Kira had noticed and was following suit.
"Hear me?" Athrun said, activating the device and ending the call on his cell at the same time.
"Loud and clear."
"I'm hooked up too," said Kira. His voice sounded like it was split in two, one a little scratchy from the static as it came through the microphone on the hands-free device, and the other deeper and a little echoey because they were stuck in the elevator.
"Great. Loud and clear," repeated Nicol's voice in their ear.
Unwrapping the black parcel, Kira produced a change of clothes for each of them. Black turtleneck sweaters and black chinos, alongside black sneakers and black skullcaps. They stripped out of their uniforms and changed into their black gear.
Everything was going according to plan.
They had concocted the plan over the span of a day, hunched around Mu La Flaga's kitchen table. It was a risky plan, a lot of it based on assumptions and much more of it dependent on luck. All of them were out of their element; schemes like that usually took weeks - not twenty-four hours - of planning and brainstorming. For the detectives, prior to any assignment, there would be hundreds of meetings with various departments, specialists and personnel. Lives of victims and passers-by couldn't be compromised; risk to officers and agents in the field had to be minimized. In other words, all measures that ensured the ass of the police force was covered had to be taken. For Kira and his team, they spent an equal amount of time and effort preparing for their missions: the area had to be scoped out; back-up plans and escape routes had to be put in place; it was important that none of them left clues behind, or got caught.
But they had what they had, and that was only twenty-four hours to come up with a plan that wouldn't get them arrested, or worst still, killed.
The goal was simple: to regain the serum before its altered formula was released. The process wasn't so simple and the circumstances, not so easy. Athrun was a fugitive on the run, charged for breaking-and-entering and negligence of duty, and the police were out looking for Cagalli because they knew that she knew where Athrun was. As far as the headquarters was concerned, Lacus was still missing, and Kira Hibiki was a dead lead. It wasn't certain yet whose side the Police Commissioner was on so whatever they were doing had to be kept off the records. They had Murrue to thank for that. By taking control of the Special Unit in the absence of their group leader, she was covering their trail from the Commissioner. On paper, the other members of the Special Unit, sans Athrun, were in charge of recovering and arresting their former chief, though they were actually working on the sly with him. They had Mu cooperating, and Miriallia too, who was working her magic on the forensics side of things. And then there was Cagalli and Lacus and Siegel Clyne. All in all, they were a messed-up crew.
But they had what they had.
Planning to infiltrate the Le Creuset Corporation was tough. Kira admitted that he hardly knew anything about the Le Creuset Corporation; he had never been anywhere in the building above ground. He, like the rest of the Facility's trainees, had always been convened to the basements the moment they arrived. But one thing he was certain about: the Le Creuset Corporation was always under tight security. There were gates and guardhouses on the perimeters, with a day watch and a night watch. Inside, employees needed IDs to pass through the turnstiles. Talk about tight security.
There were only two ways to get in: one, to be a Le Creuset Corporation employee with a valid ID, or two, to have a valid reason to be there. There were no back doors, and the glass windows were bulletproof. No other way in but through the front entrance. Which would be a big problem since they had no IDs.
Athrun and the rest of the team had discussed and argued and debated at great length about the infiltration. Tensions were running high; time was running out. It disturbed Athrun that their operation was illegal, but what choice did they have when the police force itself could no longer be trusted?
Two hours later, the heated argument had come to an abrupt end. When they discovered that they were all present, minus one.
Kira had left the house without a word.
Then came a harried scramble as phone calls were made and temporary 'search teams' were dispatched to scout the neighbourhood in search of the assassin. Cagalli and Lacus had been inconsolable and Athrun couldn't suppress the sense that he had been betrayed and fooled. How could he believe that the cold-hearted assassin would come onto their side simply because of Lacus and Cagalli? Maybe he had been wrong all along; maybe Kira felt nothing for them. Maybe he felt nothing for anyone. But he was proven wrong when a knock sounded on Mu's front door at two a.m. in the middle of the night.
Kira had returned. With what proved to be immensely useful for their operation - he had gotten his hands on three IDs from three Le Creuset Corporation employees.
"How did you get these?" Athrun had said, fanning out the three IDs on Mu's kitchen table.
Kira had merely shrugged.
"How did you get them?"
Hard amethysts eyes had stared back at him, and all Kira had offered was, "In case you're wondering, I didn't kill them." And he said nothing more about it.
The plan had to be nicely executed. They couldn't afford any miscalculations. Athrun and Kira couldn't walk in through the front door just like that, since there was a possibility that Rau's people would be on the lookout for them. So they had decided that they needed a disguise, and they already had one on hand – uniformed police officers. Uniforms were interesting things: they enabled people to blend easily into the crowd. A group of uniformed policemen drew attention, but no one ever looked carefully at the faces of each officer. So Athrun made some calls and pulled some strings and got together a bunch of uniformed officers he could trust and two spare uniforms for himself and Kira.
But first, they needed a valid reason to be there. And to get that reason, they burned one of the IDs Kira had gotten, making sure that the insignia of the Le Creuset Corporation remained visible. Then Nicol had hit up the popular websites and social networks and spread the word about a possible terrorist threat. Which triggered an entire media frenzy as reporters and bloggers lapped up the story. That had kept the Police Commissioner busy and made it all the more credible that such a large group of investigators and officers would appear at the Le Creuset Corporation. Athrun had been a little hesitant about spreading panic amidst the public, but he decided that a little panic wouldn't hurt as bad as not retrieving the serum in time.
They needed to do more though to ensure that the operation worked out. Like gaining control of the main computer system. That had been Mu's job and he had gotten in with one of the other IDs. The last had gone to Lunamaria, but she would need backup, so they had sent Shinn in, disguised as a delivery man.
Now that all was set in place, it was up to Kira and Athrun.
And the tough and dangerous work was just beginning.
Author's note: There you go! A little bit more action as compared to previous chappies, but I believe there'll be much more to come in the next few chappies. I'm already working out the action for the next chapter; hope it'll work out alright. So what do you guys think? After hitting a bump in the last chappie, I'm hoping this one is like a fresh start and the following chappies will get better, not worse… I'll have to admit though that in terms of story plot, this chappie isn't the best, and in terms of emotional stuff, definitely not the best. And Cagalli and Lacus aren't doing much either. But hopefully all these might get better in the next few chappies, I hope… One thing I am concerned about, however, is that the characters are becoming way way way too OOC. What do you guys think? Do review, review, review and tell me all about it!