A/N: Welcome to Falling Hard, the sequel/direct follow-on from Falling Fast. You don't have to read that first, but it would probably help in understanding how Seto Kaiba and Mai Valentine are able to bear each others' company - it wasn't an easy ride! As Falling Fast was a huge re-working of The Lift, Falling Hard is a complete overhaul of The Chase (though the first chapter with all its London-based drama might be recognisable!).
I do hope you enjoy it, it's been a joy to get to work with these characters again after so long. Let me know :)
SETTLING A SCORE
In a grotty late-night café in central London, a young waitress stared at her own blurred reflection in the plastic countertop. It was only thirty minutes into the seven-hour shift that would take Carly into the not-so-early hours of the morning, and she was already tired and bored. She'd done all the little tasks: the cleaning and the prep work, and now it was just a case of waiting until the surge of after-show customers that would stop-by before catching a train back out to the suburbs. For now though, the café was quiet.
A sudden cold breeze heralded the arrival of a customer and Carly looked up as a tall man entered. He quickly shut the door against the wind and swirling rain outside and then turned, his brow furrowing as he took in the cheap and tired-looking décor. For a moment, it seemed like he might walk straight back out, but then he made his way to the darkest booth in the furthest corner and took a seat.
There was something about the way he moved, a sharpness and a confidence that made him seem at once out of place and in complete command of his surroundings. He was definitely not what Carly would have considered to be the café's usual clientele, and she watched his every move with a keen interest as she edged around the counter and approached him for his order.
He was pushing aside the table's laminated menus and plastic sauce bottles when she came to a stop beside him, notepad in hand, biro hovering. He glanced up, piercing blue eyes sharp beneath a thick fringe of brown hair.
"Coffee. Black," he said.
Carly raised an eyebrow. "That it?" she asked, matching his directness.
"Hmm." The noise itself was noncommittal but, paired with the fact that he had diverted his attention to a small black device that he had set up in the middle of the table, Carly felt she had her answer and turned away.
She was back behind the counter, listening to the familiar, gratingly-loud noise of the coffee machine when a flash of light caught her eye. Looking back to the man, her eyes widened as she watched the table, the man and half the café being engulfed in a 3D display of buildings. Carly could just about make out the hands of the man, sticking up above what looked very much like Trafalgar Square, before he made a gesture which instantly shrank the scene down to fit neatly on the tabletop.
He glanced quickly at her, and she met his gaze, open-mouthed, a small smile curving her lips as she started to consider that her shift might not be quite so boring after all.
0oooo0
Roland smiled faintly, watching as the man ahead of him staggered to a halt, hesitating as he tried to guess which was the best way to go.
The pursuit of Owen MacIntire had been in active progress for over an hour, and it was going almost exactly to plan. The seemingly random configuration of roads and the multitude of tiny alleyways that made up the centre of London had proved difficult, but the target didn't appear to be familiar with the streets and, with detailed maps and a five-strong team of professionals, they had managed to gain the advantage and maintain it. The man didn't know it but, as he zigzagged wildly from street to street, he was heading exactly where they wanted him to go.
0oooo0
"Are you a bad guy?"
Seto looked up at the young waitress who was staring at him curiously.
"What?"
"You're chasing someone down, right?" Carly said, nodding towards the holographic display.
From her vantage point behind the counter she'd picked up that there were six points of light, five blue and one red, which moved between the buildings. Now she was standing beside him she could see that the configuration of roads was recognisably central London.
"I'm figuring that either he's the bad guy, or you are."
"Does it make a difference to you either way?" Seto asked coldly, wishing she would just set down the mug of coffee and leave.
She met his stare with a small shrug. "It makes a difference as to whether I help you."
He shook his head, turning away from her. "How could you possibly help me?"
She continued to stare. "The people are moving in real time, yeah?" she asked after another long pause.
Seto didn't bother to respond. He contemplated packing everything away and leaving and was just about to shut down the hologram when the waitress spoke again.
"The map isn't though."
It took a moment for him to decipher what she meant. "You're saying the map is out of date?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Rather than answer, she just looked at him. "Is he a bad guy? The one you're chasing?"
Seto shrugged. "He tried to kill me."
"That doesn't prove he's the bad guy," the waitress pointed out, "maybe you deserved it?"
He gave her a look. "Is this because I didn't say please when I asked for the coffee?"
She smiled then, his answer clearly amusing her for some reason. "This road here. It's been closed for the past week for gas works." She leaned forward to place his mug of coffee in the middle of a road that was in the path of the small points of light. "And this one here has barriers that block it off after ten." She reached out and picked up a salt pot, laying it in the path of a narrow alley.
"Hmm," Seto grunted in a way that was as close to gratitude as he could muster. He quickly picked up his phone and tapped out a message. A reply came back from Roland almost instantly confirming the adjusted strategy.
Carly smiled again but rather than leaving, she perched herself on the nearest table, watching intently.
He looked at her. "Do you not have better things to do?"
"Nope," she said and then frowned as the door behind her opened. She tried to ignore it for as long as she could but then swore and left to deal with the elderly couple who had entered.
0oooo0
Roland surveyed the street, making sure his next directions would be accurate. At the end of the alleyway ahead of him he could see the garish lights of the types of establishments that were still open at this hour, the neon turning the rain-soaked tarmac into a river of pinks and reds.
He clicked a communicator device on his collar. "He's just entered an alley at the end of Berwick Street." His voice was raised to be head above the rain. "Tanaka, have you picked him up?" he waited a few seconds for a reply. "Tanaka?"
"Got him sir." There was the sound of running. "He's turned right onto Brewer Street, heading towards Picadilly Circus."
0oooo0
"You know you're screwed if he gets to Picadilly, right?"
Seto looked up to see that the waitress had returned. Instead of being annoyed he immediately relayed the information to Roland and then looked back to her.
"You've got the tube station," she said in answer to his unspoken question, "he could easily disappear down there. Plus, it's theatre kicking out time – the whole area will be heaving."
Seto nodded his thanks, and she smiled.
"It's gonna get heaving in here too." She looked behind her to where she had managed to seat the handful of customers as far away from him as possible. "I won't be able to reserve this little area for you anymore."
"I understand," he said with a nod. "It's time for me to go anyway."
He reached forward and shut the display down leaving just a mug of undrunk black coffee and a sideways saltshaker on the table. Carly picked up the mug and set the salt upright again.
"Good luck with it all," she said as she pulled a pay machine from the pocket of her apron. She held it out towards him. "Just remember, good guys always tip generously."
For a fleeting moment, the look on her face reminded Seto so strongly of Mai Valentine that he had to smile. "That's a defining attribute, is it?"
"Hey." She shrugged lightly. "I don't make the rules."
A young man called from the counter, trying to get her attention and Carly sighed, glancing over her shoulder.
"Want the receipt?" she asked, her voice dropping into the monotony of habit as the machine began printing the slip of paper.
He shook his head, pulling his coat up from the seat beside him and placing the black hologram device into his pocket.
The man at the counter called out again, his loud demand for her attention causing the woman at his side to giggle. Carly's eyes narrowed and she turned on her heel, returning to the counter with a barely concealed scowl. As she took their order, she watched Seto step out into the rain. He flung his coat around him so it flared out in a dramatic display that made her lips twitch upwards.
Her eyes cut away to the receipt she still held, her brow furrowing as she read the numbers. She pulled out the payment machine and checked again, wondering if the transaction had failed somehow, unable to comprehend what she was looking at.
"In your own time!" The young man's arrogant sarcasm barely registered as her eyes flitted between the receipt and the machine's display screen, taking note of the amount listed under 'gratuity'.
Carly's eyes widened and she gave an incredulous laugh. "Holy crap!" she said.
0oooo0
"Roland. Update."
"Target is on Sherwood Street. Heading south-east."
Seto checked his phone, shaking it clear of the water droplets that had peppered the screen. "I'm close by. Steer him towards Denman – I'll intercept."
"Yes sir, I—" There was a silence followed by bursts of other conversations. The usually calm voices were tinged with urgency.
"Roland?" Seto kept up his pace.
"Uh…" Roland's voice was breathy, as if he was running.
"Roland?"
"We've lost him."
0oooo0
MacIntire's eyes darted from side to side like a trapped animal. He was crouched low in a shop doorway, pushed deep into a dark alcove, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He couldn't keep going. He knew that now. But he couldn't stay here either. He might remain hidden for a few minutes, maybe longer, but eventually he would have to break cover. Across the road, he could see a swell of people coming out from a show, the audience spilling out onto the street. He watched the happy people casually making their way home and his hands curled into fists. He drew himself upright and pushed himself into the crowds.
He kept his head down, trying to walk as close as possible to other people without them reacting or drawing attention to him. In this manner, he was able to go some distance and, as he risked a peek through the people who surrounded him, he felt a rush of hope as he spotted the sign for the underground.
But then a man was standing in the entrance, the people moving around him as if he were an immovable island. MacIntire's hope stuttered and died. As the cold recognition ran through him, his breath caught in his throat.
He turned, pushing against the crowd now, deaf to the cries of indignation as he elbowed his way through. He stopped dead in his tracks. There was another of his pursuers a short distance ahead of him. He turned again, his eyes searching desperately for escape. On the corner of the street, the door to a bar swung open, a burst of noise and light catching his attention.
0oooo0
"The corner of Denman and Glasshouse," Murdoch panted into his communicator. "He's entered a bar. He—"
A sharp tap on his shoulder cut him off. He looked up just in time to see Seto sweeping past, the briefest glance giving a wordless command.
"Mr. Kaiba and I are going in." Murdoch muted Roland's warning to wait and shoved through the heavy wooden door.
Inside, the heat and noise swallowed him whole. The bar was packed so tightly he had to twist, nudge, and mutter apologies as he forced his way through the crush of bodies.
Seto was already far ahead, leaning across the bar, speaking with a staff member who nodded and gestured toward a further set of stairs.
0oooo0
MacIntire's eyes flicked around the upstairs seating area, searching for any escape route that would allow his flight to continue. Spotting a door, he pressed through the thinning crowd. At the last moment, he turned so he was facing the room.
Satisfied no one was watching, he eased back, elbowing the door open and slipping through.
0oooo0
Seto reached the top of the stairs and paused, surveying the scene. Behind him, Murdoch's hurried footsteps echoed as he caught up.
Some nearby patrons had stopped their conversations, watching Seto with open curiosity.
Murdoch drew alongside him, his efforts to control his breathing making his voice tight. "The rest of the team should be here soon."
Seto nodded. "Stay here until they arrive. Then follow."
"Yes, sir. Where are you—"
But Seto was already striding toward the door on the far side of the room.
0oooo0
MacIntire shoved down on the handle of a grimy metal door, stumbling onto a rain-slicked roof terrace. The downpour mingled with his sweat, the cool air soothing the burning in his lungs.
The door clanged shut behind him. He sprinted to the edge of the building, where a low wall separated him from the street far below. Peering over, he let out a panicked whimper - three men in black suits were closing in fast.
A sudden, echoing bang spun him around. The door was open again.
Silhouetted in the entrance, Seto Kaiba stood motionless, one hand outstretched to keep the door from slamming shut. The wind whipped at his long dark coat, the wild motion a stark contrast to the absolute stillness of the man himself.
MacIntire's heart seized.
Seto stepped forward, releasing the door. It slammed shut with a final, echoing crash.
"Owen MacIntire." Seto's voice was raised just enough to carry over the rain. "We have some unfinished business to discuss."
"Kaiba—" The gasp came through chattering teeth. "I—"
"Firstly," Seto cut him off, his tone cold, "there's the small matter of you trying to kill me."
MacIntire shook his head wildly, rain streaking down his pale face. "It wasn't me—I had nothing to do with it!"
Seto stopped a few feet from the shaking man. "Let's not waste each other's time," he said. "I've already spoken to your little gang. Every last one of them named you as the man in charge."
"They're lying!" MacIntire backed away, hands raised in trembling protest. "They're saying that to save themselves!"
Seto gave a slow, calculated shrug. "That didn't really work out for them."
MacIntire paled further. "What do you mean? What did you do?"
For a long moment, Seto simply stared, then his lips curled into a crooked, predatory smile. "The same thing I'm about to do to you."
He watched as MacIntire's eyes widened, recognising the same fear he'd seen in the men he'd questioned earlier. It had been a revelation to him that the criminal underworld still whispered about the Kaiba name. According to Roland, Gozaburo's ruthless dealings had left a lasting impression.
Seto had every intention of turning MacIntire over to the Metropolitan Police, just as he had the others. But he wasn't about to let this quivering man know that. He needed answers - and for that, the grizzly reputation of his adopted family name served his purposes well.
"No," MacIntire shuffled backwards, his hands up in front of him. "No, you don't understand."
Seto stepped forward, keeping the distance between them steady. "Enlighten me then."
"There were orders. I was hired."
The stoic expression faltered. "Hired?"
"Yes! Paid up front. Given the info, the timings, the building plans, all of it." His words came out in a rush. "I wouldn't, I mean it wasn't personal—" Suddenly he stumbled, falling backwards onto the wet ground.
Seto's shadow swept over him, his eyes two sharp points of light in the darkness.
"Who hired you?"
MacIntire had opened his mouth to speak when the metal clang of the stairwell door sounded across the rooftop. Seto's head snapped toward the sound, his gaze narrowing.
It was all that MacIntire needed. Instantly, he was on his feet and running. He bolted past Seto and into the open space of the roof terrace. To his right, the doorway was filled with the silhouette of two men, and he swerved away from them, wildly changing direction. The cold air filled his lungs, and the rain lashed against his face as he ran, clearing his mind. He weaved between the dark twisted shapes of ventilation shafts, his footsteps thudding through the blurred puddles as he heard people shouting his name. Ahead of him he saw the edge of the building and beyond it, coming into view below the low wall, was another building, not attached but not that far away either.
MacIntire's mind began calculating the distance even as his pace increased. He actually found himself laughing as he leapt up onto the low wall, his momentum propelling him forward into the open void. He reached out towards the distant roof, his arms stretching to cross the gap. It wasn't enough. His hands brushed the brickwork of the other building, his fingertips grasping for a connection that never came. His eyes widened in terror as he fell with a piercing scream.
Murdoch was the first to reach the point where the man had jumped, and he was quickly joined by Roland. The two of them stood staring down in horror, not quite comprehending what they had just seen.
A moment later Seto was beside them. The young CEO also looked over the edge and the three men stood for a moment in silence.
Finally, Seto straightened up and he drew in a long breath. "Shit," he said.