Noland Syndrome Case 1-The Other Stories

Case 1-B: The Other Stories

After their rather ambiguous introduction with their "partner", the Cleaners had all retreated to their nearest hideout, the poorly-lit abandoned hotel. It was already past midnight, and their eyelids were beginning to feel the weight. Then again, the exhaustion could be due to the fact that they all had lost several pints of blood from the encounter with the ninja. It was nothing that stripping off their suits and wrapping themselves in gauze and bandages couldn't solve.

The giant and the lanky man sat a fair distance from each other in what they guessed was the hotel's lobby. As one would expect from an abandoned hotel, the furniture was decrepit and dust was everywhere. True, they could have cleaned everything, but it wouldn't look abandoned then, would it?

The giant, Rhodes, sat on a couch, the couch itself straining under his immense frame. He was staring rather intently at the door, his brown hat in the firm grip of his giant hands. The lanky man, Mick, sat on a worn-out armchair near the door leading to the hotel's basement.

He was fiddling around with two gold-plated mechanical devices wrapped around his arms. Mick flexed his wrist experimentally, causing a knife to pop out of the device. With another flex of the wrist, the knife slid back in.

Hank and Scott were noticeably absent from the room, still in the basement trying to beat the information out of Ronnie's head. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he would budge any time soon. They had tried swinging the interrogation light back and forth, slapping Ronnie, threats of violence that Ronnie clearly didn't know were legitimate, and more slapping.

Of course, there was always their trump card: "the trash can technique." No person alive had ever been able to withstand the trash can's violent cacophony. Unfortunately, even their ultimate weapon gave them results, just a muffled stream of swearing.

"Damn it!" shouted Scott, throwing a large metal bin off of Ronnie's head, "The trash can technique never fails!"

"Perhaps we need something more life-threatening," said Hank.

"We do have a car battery in here," said Scott.

"We can't get good information if his skull is caved in."

"You assholes are wasting your time!" said Ronnie smugly, "I'm not a pussy who just caves in to pressure. And when my bros come to my rescue, they are so going to --"

Scott slapped Ronnie once again, if only to shut him up.

"You think we should switch out?" asked Scott.

"Do you remember the last time Mick took over interrogations?"
"So we had to live with the room smelling of blood and piss for three days straight," said Scott with a shrug. "We still got results, didn't we?"

They both heard the sound of running water, like rain pouring out of the gutter. They looked back at Ronnie. He was completely drained of color, and there was a growing dark spot in his pants.

"Mick it is," said Hank.    
###
"How do I know you're not simply making any of this up?" asked Vergil.

"You know I'm not good at lying," said Marie.

"It didn't stop you from covering this up."

"Then tell me this," said Marie with a cocked eyebrow, "Name one time when you actually asked me where I worked."

Vergil opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it as the answer seemed to come to mind. Marie smiled for a moment. She proceeded to catch Vergil's next question before he could even open his mouth.

"Yes, Danny has asked me where I work," said Marie, some uncertainty rising in her voice as her eyes began shifting away from Vergil's glare. "And I told him."

Noticing Vergil's look of confusion at the apparent contradiction, Marie explained, "This isn't the only job I have. If you had bothered to ask me where I worked any of the many times you met me, I would have told you I worked at Sonic Records."

Marie caught yet another question, viewing the annoyance on Vergil's face. "And yes, he does come around the store to see me. In fact, he's been visiting more frequently ever since he quit his last job."

She froze for a moment, remembering that very day when he told her. Vergil seemed to disappear from her view, instead replaced by Danny. He had tried so hard to keep a pleasant smile, though there was nothing that could hide the bruises on his face and the large bandage covering his left cheek. A gentle tap on the hand brought her back to reality.

"Maybe you could listen to my questions for a change?" said Vergil, trying to hide some apparent unease behind a snark.

"I think we should end it here," said Marie, still visibly shaken.

Vergil stopped at the door once again as one of her associates guided him to the girl in the blue suit. "I keep forgetting to ask you. Why did you go with the codename 'Peaches?'"

The dark mood hanging over the air lifted, at least for a moment. Even now, years after she got the name, there was still something inherently funny about the word. Marie allowed herself to crack a small grin. She saw that Vergil almost looked relieved.

"The name was chosen for me," she finally said.

"Then fire the guy responsible for choosing it," said Vergil as he proceeded to walk out of the room.

As the doors closed behind him, the dark mood returned. Quips alone could not help relieve it. The other part of her brain tried to wrestle away these thoughts of doubt, but the fact remained that Danny would be in even more danger if she kept the Rosa Family running on blood money.

"Perhaps we should also call it a night?" asked a rather effeminate-looking blond man in a magenta suit standing by her booth.

The elderly man also close by her suddenly became very cross at the blond man's suggestion."It is not for you to decide when the Madame wishes to end her meetings," he said.

Marie held up her hand, silencing the old man.

"Last time checked, you didn't decide either Albert," Marie said. She gave a small smirk. "I appreciate that you're dedicated to your role, but I already told you that I'm comfortable without your advice now."

Albert didn't even hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes.

"And frankly, I don't think Damien really deserves any scolding," she added. "You two aren't even in the same position."

Marie looked at her watch. It was quite past midnight. It was strange that she only now began to feel fatigue. She definitely could use the rest to piece together some of her thoughts.

"All right, let's call it a night!" she said as she got out of the booth.

A door in the back of the room opened up, and the various men and women in suits departed. Marie noticed Albert still frowning at Damien, who wore a satisfied grin on his face.

She had decided to take a slight detour. As she opened the entrance doors, Marie braced herself for the blast of pop music. Yet she was met with audible silence. Even party-goers have their limits it would seem.

She proceeded to walk to the front entrance of Fish Hook. The girl in the navy blue suit was still at the front desk with the familiar dull face, though she did not seem to notice Marie approaching her. Marie gently tapped the desk. The girl looked up for a moment, surprise for once appearing on her face.

"C-Can I help you?" the girl asked trying to regain composure.

"You know you don't need to be formal with me," Marie said with a small smile. "Anyways, how are the negotiations coming along?"

"We're still in the process of compromising," the girl said.

"Tell them they need to come to a decision soon."
###
Hank sat slumped against his arm chair, the night finally taking a toll on his consciousness. Scott lay on the couch on the side opposite of Rhodes, hat on face, most likely asleep. Rhodes, somehow still awake hours past midnight, remained in his spot, still staring at the basement door, which now had Mick's white hat hanging on the door knob.

Suddenly, the door swung open and out popped Mick, covered in fresh blood. At this sight, Rhodes jumped out of his seat. Scott and Hank simply shared a mildly annoyed look.

"We have a location and an employer," said Mick triumphantly.

"Please tell me Ronnie is still alive," said Hank.

"Wait," said Mick. "I was supposed to keep him alive?"

A collective groan filled the room.
###
A man dressed in a red suit made his way through the crowds. The artificial lights above him glared against his large sunglasses. He looked around. There was commotion, but violence had not broken out as of yet.

He looked ahead of the crowd, noticing that the violence in the mansion beyond the gate had noticeably subsided. And here he was thinking that the whole process would have been much longer. Wading back through the crowd, he took out his phone and dialed.

By the time he managed to navigate through the crowd and into an empty street, someone finally picked up.

"Yes?" said a distorted voice.

"It's time," he said.

The distorted voice on the phone laughed. "Well that was fast."

"Tell me about it."  
###
"Hello?" said Vergil's voice over monitor, "Mr. Mysterious-Voice-Guy? I just want to let you know that I found out who Harman was working for. Call back when you can so that we can arrange my next payment."
As soon as the call ended, the monitor's glow went dark. The room was filled with silence. The monitor lay on its side, its screen cracked. The table it sat on lay overturned a few inches off. The fragmented remains of a vase and a lamp lay scattered not too far off. Papers were strewn about the places haphazardly, as were the drawers of a nearby cabinet.

A man lay prone on the carpet. The look of sheer terror was frozen on his face. A sword stuck out of his back.