A/N: um... yeah...
I don't own pitch perfect.
Luisa sat on the edge of her table as she watched the latest news headline on the TV screen in her spacious and rather luxurious office along an old friend, and now current boss at DSM, Pieter, who sat in the loveseat by the coffee table in front of her desk. The headline?
BABEL RESEARCH TEAM DIES IN AN EXPLOSION DURING RETREAT – GAS LEAK AT THE MAIN LINES OF CEO'S SUMMER HOUSE IDENTIFIED TO BE THE PROBLEM
It's been only a few days since Pieter recruited her during one late night drinking session. The two had known each other since law school but took two very different paths. Luisa's ambition and desire for power had her on a career trajectory of becoming the assistant DA – which she had been – and then the DA, and eventually the state attorney general. It didn't stop there either. She wanted to become the attorney general. However, her plans have since been derailed by an idiotic DA she had been working for over nearly a decade now, popular enough to keep winning his election, and a state general attorney just as simplistic and idiotic. It didn't help that her ruthlessness in court translated to few friends behind the scenes, hindering her climb to success over the fear – and jealousy – of her tenacity and "difficult to control" strong mindedness.
Pieter's offer to work at DSM became too tempting for her to resist afterwards, especially now that Babel was a major client for their legal counsel. The doors of opportunity seemed to have once again open for her.
But first, she had to put out a few flames, and this included what should have been a simple matter of Babel Pharmaceuticals' most recent lawsuit. It would appear that Pieter – and Babel's CEO, a less than impressive dolt in Luisa's opinion – had have about enough of the dawdling. They needed her ferocity and quick handling of things.
Handle them she had promised. Handled them she did.
"Such a shame about the researchers, and our beloved CEO's summer house," Pieter commented about the newscast.
"Gas leaks are not to be taken lightly," Luisa then remarked with a patronizing look on her face. "But at least the dead don't talk and leak news to the public."
Pieter chuckled. "What a waste. Oh, well, that's one problem that solved itself," he said knowingly. "But we still have the missing researcher to worry about."
"I get things done," Luisa replied, matter-of-factly. "I think I've proven that already that I do just that already."
"It was never a doubt," Pieter said before standing up and fixing his suit. "I shouldn't take much more of your time and let you get to work then."
Luisa watched as Pieter left, a devious smile lingering on her lips. Once her door was closed, she reached out for her phone on the table and dialed a number.
"Good work," Luisa remarked as soon as someone answered the call. "Now, remember, if you want that bonus, you need to deal with the pests as well. I do remember a rat that needs to be caught, and a pesky weed that needs to be removed. Call me once your done, and I'll give you what I owe then."
To say that Aubrey had a very long morning that day was understatement. She woke up bright and early to visit Dr. Mitchell in the hospital before heading into the office, never for once getting tired of trying to convince him to fight for his innocence. It was there that she had heard the news about Babel's research team, particularly the one working on RDU-90, had all been killed at a company retreat at the CEO's summer estate. She wasted no time in driving to Barden Tower after that.
Only to find herself driving off again. As soon as she arrived, she saw Beca, dressed simply in a black suit ensemble and white button down this time – much more muted than her usual outfits – chasing after Uncle Chris who drove on away. Beca spotted her in the car and rushed to get in the passenger's seat. Aubrey didn't need to ask what had happened, but Beca nevertheless explained. The two of them were discussing about their strategies for the trial – Beca claiming that if they get RDU-90 tested for the narcotic active agent, they could at least shut it down and open up an investigation on Babel – when Emily tuned in on the news that morning. There, they saw the headlines.
It didn't take much a genius how Uncle Chris reacted and where he was headed. He always had such a kind heart, and in that moment of seeing the headlines, he understood what the news failed to report too. That Babel killed their own employees. Why, Aubrey didn't know then, and she couldn't begin to fathom or understand why they would make such a move when they were poised to win the trial in the first place.
They found themselves outside of Babel's main corporate office building, where the media had already gathered. Of course, Uncle Chris was there too, loudly speaking his mind – that Babel killed them to cover up something about RDU-90. Beca wasted no time in snatching him from the crowd and ushering him back in his car. How Beca managed to drag a man twice his size with ease was a mystery to Aubrey, but she had to be honest and say that at the very least she was impressed by her efforts.
They drove back to Barden Tower shortly after, and found themselves at the rooftop. Uncle Chris was smoking his third cigarette, offering one to Beca who was playing with a lighter Aubrey didn't know she had until then, flicking the lid on and off.
"I've quit a long time ago," Beca commented, deep at thought.
"I still don't understand, why did they have to kill them?" Uncle Chris asked through gritted teeth. Anger, pain, hatred, and great profound sadness were all clearly visible in the lines of his features, and Aubrey would be lying if she said she didn't feel the same way.
Beca didn't look too pleased with the news as well, but she didn't look to happy with Uncle Chris' unrestrained behavior either. Especially with how he handled the media personnel reaching out for him about a comment and how this could potentially impact the trial. "You need to curb emotions. Don't let it get the best of you. Right now, what you're doing, is making yourself a target for Babel, and what good would that do? Declaring war at their footsteps. The last straw of hope will be useless if it gets burned by his enemies, or have you forgotten that straws catch fire very easily?" Beca lectured on.
As much as Aubrey hated it, Beca had a point. But must they really live in fear of retaliation for simply speaking the truth and bringing to light what many choose to ignore?
Beca huffed and calmed herself. Never once stopping the incessant flicking of her lighter's cap that it was starting to get on Aubrey's nerves. "I know you want to defeat Babel, and you can fight them with all your heart's content, but you need to understand that only evil can punish evil," Beca then added.
"Well, if evil is the only one that can punish evil, is it too much to ask the devil to fight for me for once?" Uncle Chris cried out in frustration but it would seem that even Beca didn't have an answer for that.
Aubrey knew she didn't herself.
The three of them stood there for a while, letting the silence among them sit in, with only the distant sound of traffic in the distance breaking through their thoughts.
Just as Uncle Chris' was halfway consumed, his phone started ringing incessantly. He fished it out of his pocket, and looked at the screen with consternation. He answered the call, eyebrows furrowed at whoever it could have been calling him right then, only for his expression to change shortly after. He did his best to school his features, his mouth hanging askew for a bit, the cigarette dropping down the ground from his lips. Aubrey had wanted to ask what that was about but Uncle Chris quickly excused himself.
She stayed behind on the roof with Beca for a bit longer, the morning's shocking news and Uncle Chris' remarks still on her mind. "Say Beca, what's the difference between a monster and a devil?"
Beca looked thoughtful for a minute but didn't respond.
"I suppose the monster isn't willing to cross a few lines, huh? And the devil knows no bounds," Aubrey then commented.
"There's no difference," Beca then said. "Not really. Just their looks if you ask me. Monsters are typically grotesque and difficult to look at. Like things you'd rather not do because you're getting your hands dirty. Thuggish, brutish, acts with no refinement. The devil is… cunning. As a being, they're much more pleasant to look at. In the context of what we do, it's playing a far more sophisticated game. Hiding your real intent, hiding something dark and cruel behind something much more palatable. The Trebles are the thuggish monsters. And Babel is the devil, using what they know of the law among their control and influence over those in high society to mask their evil intent. The thing is, if you keep trying to be the white knight your whole life, you will always lose against those willing to do any, and absolutely every, thing to get their way. You need to learn how to walk in a river of mud and blood, not afraid to be stained by it, if you really want to achieve your cause. At least, that's what I've learned."
"And the devil we need to root them out?" Aubrey asked thoughtfully. "Can one person even do that?"
But Beca never answered that question.
Chloe did her best to get through her work load that day, but ended up having to leave early. She wasn't entirely sure what to do or how to feel with the news that broke out that morning. It didn't help that Luisa aka the Kommisar, the newly minted senior partner at their law firm, was in especially high spirits that morning. Something about it screamed wrong deep inside of Chloe, making her think back on her last conversation with Beca.
All day, she felt uneasy. All day, she felt confused.
She tried to reach out to her dad but he couldn't get a hold of him. Even Aubrey wasn't answering her phone at the moment. She figured she could try to call Beca, but she doubted she would get much out of her.
Emily did answer the phone when she called her, the usually enthusiastic paralegal on her father's team also seemed down. Apparently all the other three were out of the office that day.
On her way home, she decided to take a detour over her father's office, just in case he does get back or he's hiding up the rooftop of Barden Tower or in Flo's canteen. If he wasn't there, she was going to visit him back at his residence, Chloe's childhood home. It would feel strange since she hasn't gone to seen him there since, but she had resolved to come and see him and talk, she wasn't going to back down now.
Just parked her car in a parking lot a block away from the tower. Her nerves got the best of her, partly because she knew her dad might hide away or avoid her out his stubborn pride and refusal to ever speak to her again. But she felt lost, and she needed his guidance, and perhaps, just perhaps, concede that he was right.
But it felt like the universe refused to let them speak. Just as Chloe started to walk away from the parking lot and cross the street, the rain started slowly dropping from the sky. She rushed towards a nearby convenience store, the store front having an awning that provided shade and sheltered her from what felt like a brewing storm.
"What are you doing here?" she heard Beca say. Chloe was surprised to see her with a black umbrella standing just a few feet away.
"I could ask the same about you?"
Beca hummed. "Your father asked me and Aubrey to come join him for a drink at the pub three blocks away, his favorite place I think."
"The hole in the wall place at the corner of Main?" Chloe asked with a chuckle. "Why, is he drowning his sorrows away?"'
Beca shrugged. "That's what I thought initially, but he called me for a favor on my way out to pick up a pack of cigarettes for him here," she said, nodding towards the convenience store. "His mood seemed lighter than you would think based on what's on the news if you ask me."
"Could it be that he's finally lost his marbles?" Chloe asked, more to herself than to Beca. She shook her head before turning her attention back to Beca who had an expectant look on her face.
Chloe quirked an eyebrow at Beca.
"You never told me what you're doing here," Beca pointed out.
"It's raining, I needed shelter," Chloe remarked and Beca gave her a look.
"Really, Ms. Beale?" she asked with a deadpan expression on her face.
"I honestly don't know," Chloe then said. "I guess I just miss having my dad but I'm not really sure he misses me," she admitted.
Beca nodded. She looked at her watch and excused herself to finally buy the pack of cigarettes, saying that she might be running late already.
Chloe was a little bit disappointed to see her go. It didn't take too long, however, for Beca to re-emerge again. "Well, I'm off," she said. "If you want to know the answer to whether your dad misses you, I hope you know you can join us. You know where we are, and if I'm being honest, I don't think he would mind if you were there."
"But I don't have an umbrella. I'll get soaked," Chloe then said.
"Well, you'll never know, the rain might just stop," Beca commented with a chuckle before heading on ahead, waving Chloe a goodbye.
"And what if it doesn't?" Chloe asked, calling out to Beca who was heading on ahead.
But Beca didn't stop to respond. How could she? She probably didn't hear her.
Chloe shook her head, if Beca's offer were genuine, then she would have at least offered to walk with her. She did have an umbrella after all.
She probably didn't want to get her suit all soaked and soiled, Chloe thought to herself.
"Excuse me, miss?" she then heard someone call out to her. Chloe looked over to the entrance of the store where once of the clerk stood, holding a new umbrella. "Here," he said, handing it to her.
In her misery and with all that had happened today, she was the idiot who didn't realize she could buy an umbrella at the store she was standing in front of. Chloe had hand it to the clerk, he knew how to make a sales pitch.
"Right," Chloe then said, "I should probably pay for it inside."
"Oh, no, you don't have to," the clerk said much to her surprise. "Your friend, that girl in the suit, she already paid for it."
Chloe gingerly took the umbrella in her hands in disbelief. Moved by the simple yet kind gesture she didn't expect from Beca. She thanked the store clerk, who returned to work soon after, as she stood outside the store front for a couple of minutes more, collecting her thoughts.
Maybe Beca was right.
Maybe her father had a point.
Maybe even Chloe did too.
And perhaps, together, with all their different ways and approaches, they could right the few wrongs.
Chloe only hoped that it wasn't too late for that.
Beca's eyes scanned the space of the small pub they were in. It wasn't particularly lively, but the owner, Pat, an old friend of Chris, was a cheerful and warm fellow. The place gets packed during big game nights and weekends, he had said, and Beca nodded along. She could picture it to be true.
There was a small tinted glass window next to the pub's entrance. On the opposite side of the room was the bar itself and a few pedestals. There were a few round tables scatter about in the middle of the square layout of the place, and bar tables facing the walls on each side with more stools. There were two tv screens on the wall on either side of the bar. That night, they were turned off. It was a slow night, just like the other time Beca joined Chris for a drink, which meant that only Chris, and his company, were the patrons to be found in that pub. In their case, it was just the two of them, at least for now, with Aubrey stating that she was going to be a little late, catching up on a bit of work at the office, and the acceptance to her invitation to Chloe still up in the air. Even Pat wasn't expecting much of a showing for customers and soon excused himself to the back to do check on something with his inventory.
Chris had already ordered a bucket of beer, for them to share, a drink Beca rarely had as she preferred wine, but she indulged Chris. Besides, the pub had no wine selections. It didn't even have a food menu, just platters of roasted peanuts available. Chris' moods seemed to have lightened up a bit, excitedly talking about having to drive up to the coast the next day, and asking if Beca had wanted to come with him as he might need her help, and how she had proven useful before already, although unexpected. Beca looked at him confused, Chris refusing to elaborate on why, but she was more than eager to help if it would solve at least one of their problems. Maybe stick a knife into Babel, and let her deal with her business in peace.
Things kept piling up already, so many distractions taking Beca's focus away on the actual purpose of why she was here. She can't afford to waste any more time and dawdle. The thing with Babel needs to be put to an end and resolved for good. At least, for a good while that gives Beca enough time to get things done already.
"It's not over yet," Chris then said, snapping Beca out of her reverie. "Not by a long shot," he went on to say. "You'll see Beca, we won't need the devil's help at all. We'll pull off a miracle."
Beca look at him with burrowed eyebrows, a question lingering in her mind. But before she could ask him, he excused himself for a smoke, commenting about how he can't wait for Aubrey to join them. Beca figured that he probably wanted to wait until the three of them were all there to share the news. Whatever it was that made him happy, had him even ask Emily to join them. But Emily had night review classes for the LSATs, which she promised to finally take soon, and they didn't want to distract her much. Chris felt responsible for the future their ever so enthusiastic paralegal had, after all. Over the last couple of days, Beca could see just how much he took upon himself, also feeling responsible for the other tenants. It was as if he was the father for everyone who lived in the tower. In a way, he was old enough to be one.
Through the tinted glass, Beca kept an eye out for Chris. He was smoking just underneath the awning that had the pub's name and logo printed on it, seemingly enjoying the soothing pitter-pattering of the rain. It wasn't as strong as the initial burst any more. A man with a cap approached Chris, asking for a light, enjoying a stroll in the rain as well, and the two exchange pleasantries as they both smoked their cigarettes.
Chris left his phone on the table, where it started to ring. Beca at first thought it might be Aubrey, letting them know she was either on her way or going to a bit later than expected, or possibly even Chloe, reaching out to her father, but to Beca's surprise it wasn't.
R9
That was all that was on the saved contact name. Beca kept repeating the name to herself as she watched the phone ring and ring.
The truth hit Beca like a lightning bolt when she realized what it was. The way Chloe spoke about warning her father suggested that there was hope for their case, shortly after, the research team that worked on RDU-90 died in what the media claimed to be a tragic accident, a claim Beca believed to be false. Since the incident happened in a place Babel could control – their CEO's summer house – it had to have been intentional.
But why would they kill them all?
If there was hope.
A hope for the victims.
A hope in the form of a researcher would turn on them and come out and tell the truth.
Why kill the entire team? Beca didn't need to wonder much, it was either one of two reasons. Babel was tipped off that one of them planned to come clean but weren't sure who so they killed them all. That was one possibility. The other was that one of them could have escaped their supervision and they wanted to send a clear message of what they intended to do, as well as stop any other from the team to try to do the same things.
Flashy, and ballsy, but with Babel's influence, they could certainly get people to believe whatever narrative they wanted.
The phone stopped ringing before Beca could even pick it up. Just as it did, she heard the door of the pub open, Chris stepping back inside, the man who smoked with him outside finishing up as well and putting out his cigarette.
Beca waited until the stranger outside had gone. She shot a quick glance back to see if Pat had returned. Certain they had the room to speak, Beca turned her attention to Chris, "What are you up to?" she asked, hoping that he would answer with the truth.
It was as if there was an unspoken understanding between the two of them, a look of realization dawning on Chris' face with Beca's simple but loaded question. Chris tried to say something before stopping himself, perhaps trying to find the right words to explain the delicate situation.
But Beca never heard what answer he could give her.
There was a bright shining light in the distance, a loud honking of the horn, the unmistakable screech of wheels on the pavement, the shattering of glass. Beca found herself being flung back towards the bar from the impact, her body growing numb from the shock of it all.
One minute she was seated on a chair with Chris around one of the tables in the middle of the pub, the next her back had hit the bar, some of its stools, and was now face down on the pub floor.
Beca struggled, she wanted to move but she couldn't.
She didn't have the strength to. She wasn't even sure if her body could. She couldn't feel anything, just the cold.
How bad were her injuries, she wondered. Possibly pretty bad considering her vision had gone hazy. She could hear bits of an echoing voice, a man possibly checking in on her, and then calling a name… what's the name? is he asking mine? Why won't I respond? Why can't I?
In the direction of her outstretched-hand she could see a flood of water… or is it blood? Is this mine… or…?
And in the distance, another figure lying on the ground.
From the truck that now found itself making its entrance through the window, Beca thought she saw the silhouette of a man wearing a cap running away from the vehicle before a figure of a different man blocked her view.
He was saying something… one word, perhaps a single syllable, but Beca couldn't hear, it was like her ears were plugged with water, her hearing going along with her sight.
Until even her consciousness slipped away in that cold, dark, stormy night.
A/N Pt 2: So… how you guys doing? You doing good? Do you need a box of Kleenex?
UPNEXT: *sniffle sniffle*! A new tenant has entered the building! A promise is made!