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Wall Market cont'd
by 01_one_man_army (01_one_man_army)
at February 19th, 2006 (08:18 pm)



Zell being Zell found himself torn between running after Zack or running after Rufus, at least until he meets Cal’s flat glare and catches the brief jerk of her head to right.

Blink.

Oh.

Oh.

He darts after Zack. And within centimeters of the side door, finds a fist in his jacket hauling him bodily inside and then slamming him up against the wall.

“What the hell’s he going to Wall Market for,” Zack hisses, exhibiting a remarkable recovery in his complete absence of retching now and slamming on the water faucet to cover the lack of appropriate sound effects.

“I don’t know!”

“You're his bodyguard, Dincht, it’s your bloody job to know!” Another snarl and then Zack stalks away, pacing angrily. “Avalanche has spies all over the Slums. If they figure out where he’s headed…”

“The Turk’s going with him.” Zell felt compelled to point that out.

“The entire bleeding army could go with him and he wouldn’t be any safer. A guy who stands out as much as he does can’t just waltz around in the open and not expect to get noticed.”

Zell couldn’t argue with that. “Couldn’t he….I dunno, go in disguise or something?”

A snort from Zack. “Young corporate executive out for a night on the town, maybe? Rich boy slumming it up? He can’t act worth a damn, someone would see right through it unless…..”

Pause. A look of almost unholy glee had appeared on the older SOLDIER’s face.

Zell prudently takes a step back. “Unless…?” he prods warily.

Zack beams. It’s like watching a tiger yawn. “Go get him.”

Even more warily, as that look had never boded well for anyone: “Why?”

Zack makes a shooing motion rather than answer. “Hurry up or he’ll get away! Tell him I’ll allow him to go to Wall Market on one condition, and if he doesn’t agree he’ll find the entirety of Shinra on alert for a Vice Presidential escapee.”

“That’s kinda low, isn’t it?”

“Better that than a bullet in his head. Go get him. I’ll have to make a few calls real quick…”

“You should probably put some pants on too.”

“….oh right.”



******



Fortunately or unfortunately for Rufus, Zell's experience with chasing down fleeing prey has been made up of chasing down the most elusive quarry of all, the solitary and wily Squall Leonhart, and it would be safe to say that Zell is by now very, very good at catching up to people who didn't want to be caught up to.

"Mr. Vice President sir!" Waving arms and all. It looks a little retarded, but it also makes it impossible for Rufus to ignore him.

Repeat Zack's message. Wait for automatic suspicious 'and just what is this condition' response.

Zell tries out his very best innocent look. "No idea. Better go back and ask him, yah?"



Comments

Posted by: Rafe (doublegunshot)
Posted at: February 21st, 2006 07:57 am (UTC)

"Captain Darklighter's right on that account. There's too many initiation rites related to the gangs for that to work - they can tell a poser right on the spot - and drug dealers are not a group we want to get involved with right now. Trouble between the factions and the weapons traders recently. They'll take you for a spy." Rafe gives the boy something of an apologetic look. "The only disguise that won't raise questions is, unfortunately, a prostitute."

He turns back to the black-haired SOLDIER. "Don't overdo the kink wear though. You know the kind of clients that draws." Apparently, this Darklighter character had quite a bit of experience in the area. First-hand experience, by the way his eyes gleamed at each image. Rafe decides he really doesn't want to know. The only way they were going to get through this scheme alive was with cold professionalism, and cold professionalism dictated that they take every detail of a disguise into consideration. He'd seen many men, experienced spies, get done in by as minute a flaw as the wrong brand of glasses or a slightly askew cane.

He'd been the one to kill them, after all.

If they were going to go through with it, better make it look good. A half-assed whore was a whore without tricks, and a whore without tricks was more than likely the next dead body to be found in a back alley ditch.

With a scrutinizing eye, Rafe turns his much-vaunted expertise on the blond.

"Hm...from my experience, the Vice President's build is more suited for the 'innocent young thing' look - a cherub, maybe, or a schoolboy. Cut off the jacket sleeves and ride up the pants tight to show some skin. I've seen a couple twin pairs pull it off brilliantly." He pauses, considering. "Just make sure to rub some dirt into the face and nails. And while you're at it, rouge the lips. Make the claim look authentic." There weren't many tricks strolling around Wall Market who wouldn't demand a quick appraisal of their money's worth first, after coughing up the gil for a night.

"Fortunately, the ring heads've been lax abuot branding after the last war. So you won't have to worry about that, Mr. Vice President."

The Turk shrugs, pointedly ignoring the smirk, as he's pretty sure by now any acknowledgement of the dark-haired man's absolute glee at this idea will just dig this hole deeper. Professionalism, that's all you have to think about. A simple calculus of the odds. Surely a businessman like the Vice President would understand.

"A twin? You've someone else you can call up on short notice with experience in these things?" Hopefully not an actual boy whore, though he didn't put it past the SOLDIER's cracked scheming.

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