FicWad

Working in Soho, Stacey and Carly were used to seeing all sorts: exuberant drag queens, surly prostitutes, drugged up clubbers and everything in-between. There was something distinctly different about this guy though and both girls were fascinated.

He had ordered only coffee and had sat on his own in the furthest corner, barely saying a word, for over an hour which was the typical behaviour of one of the area's habitual tramps who would pay the minimum just to have somewhere warm to go, especially on a night like this. But this guy sure as hell didn't look like a tramp. Neither did he look like he was exactly strapped for cash. For starters there was that expensive looking handheld thingy that had kept him occupied since the moment he'd sat down.

They had both been making bets about what it was since he'd first drawn it out from the inside pocket of his long overcoat. Stacey guessed that it was a mini TV screen, whilst Carly seemed convinced that it was some sort of new gaming console.

Every time Carly checked on him, which she did with a rather suspicious regularity, she tried to catch a glimpse of the screen or to properly make out the words that she could faintly hear coming from it. As the time had dragged on and her efforts continued to fail the two girls had become more and more curious. On her seventh visit to the 'well fit' if slightly 'narky' guy, she deliberately dropped a tea spoon on the floor and, when he bent to pick it up she leant over and took a long hard look at the device.

The man sat back up and held out the spoon to her. The look in his eyes was like being doused with ice cold water and, giving her best shot at an innocent smile, Carly quickly retreated.
'I cannot believe you just did that!' Stacey said in a shocked undertone. 'It was well obvious!'

'Is he still looking?' Carly asked, with her back to the room, feeling a little awkward about her subterfuge.

'Nah, he's gone back to his... well, what is it then?'

'I dunno. It 'ad a screen on it but it din't look like no computer game,' she whispered to Stacey. 'The screen's got all these little dots movin' about on a map that looks like round 'ere. He weren't doin' nothin' wiv it, just watchin' an' listening,' they both looked across at him, 'and there was this like commentree that went wiv it.'

'Commentary?'

'Yeah, like all these commands an' stuff. Like 'follow on foot, heading East West',' she tried to imitate the accent she had heard.

'What's that supposed to be, Indian or sommin?' Stacey teased.

'Shuddup!' Carly gave her friend a playful slap on the arm. 'Anyway, it sounded like some sort of pursuit were goin' on.'

'You recon he's a member of the old bill?'

They both stared at him thoughtfully.

'He don't look like no copper,' Carly concluded.

Clearly sensing that he was being watched, the man suddenly scowled and looked up at them both.

Blushing terribly, both girls ducked quickly behind the counter and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

The man stood up and grabbed his coat from where he had placed it, carefully across the table. Surreptitiously he tensed and un-tensed the muscles in his thighs trying to bring them back to life after so long sat in the hard plastic chair. He looked again at the 'empty' counter and heard the muffled giggles of the two girls. He rolled his eyes and, taking out a ten pound note, he put it down on the table and placed a tomato shaped ketchup bottle on top of it.

He slipped the hand held device into his trouser pocket and left the café.

Stacey peeked out from behind the counter. Registering that it had indeed been the tall guy who had left, the first thing she did was check his table for money. She saw the edge of the orange coloured note and allowed herself to relax slightly.

She elbowed Carly who was still giggling uncontrollably. 'Hey, you've missed the grand exit.'

Carly took a deep breath to calm herself down and then she too took a peek.

Shivering in the cold night air the man took his coat in both hands and flung it around him, deftly sliding his arms into the sleeves as the bottom of the coat flared around him dramatically.

The two girls, watching through the rain slicked window, both sighed happily at the sight. If they had known that he was of one of the world's richest bachelors, they probably would have fainted on the spot.

oooooo

Seto Kaiba had been following the pursuit with interest, watching on his potable screen as the red dots of his team began to converge on the famous London tourist spot.

'Are we ready?' he spoke into his communicator.

'I believe so sir,' Roland replied, 'Murdoch is in covert pursuit. We think McIntire will try to access the underground system at Piccadilly and we have a number of people based at the bottom of each escalator. He should be pretty well cornered once he's there.'

'Are we happy that we can do this without causing a scene - I understand that there's actually a saying in this country that makes reference to how overcrowded this area is.'

'I'm pretty certain that we can extract him with the minimum of fuss. I took the liberty of 'obtaining' some London Underground security passes. If he does become a problem then they should do the trick.'

'Good. I'm heading there now,' Seto signed off.

OooooO

In the glow of the yellow lighting Murdoch stood holding a phone to one ear, his head bowed so that his face was hidden. Anyone watching would assume that he was having a conversation. He was in one of four phone booths in the foyer of Piccadilly Station and he was taking a big risk.

McIntire had stayed in the doorway for longer than anticipated and Murdoch felt that he had no other option than to carry on walking. The look on Owen's face had been one of a hunted animal, one that would be taking no risks and would trust no one. If Murdoch had chosen to stay outside within sight of the man then he knew he would have been spotted and so he made the decision to place himself on the predicted route and put himself out of visual range.

If everything went to plan then McIntire would head this way. If not, then the shit would hit the fan and the rest of the team would have to make up for Murdoch's mistake. After the lift incident, where Murdoch felt sure he had somehow annoyed Kaiba, he was keen to prove his worth and show that he was good at the leg work, if not the communication.

His eyes were fixed intently on the stairs that led form the North-East entrance into the station watching for the emergence of the man he was looking for, hoping the whole thing hadn't already been screwed up. He was in view of two entrances but there were four from this station and Murdoch was contemplating changing his position so that he would be able to see the ticket barriers when McIntire walked in.

He was crouched low so that he would be able to see into the station as early as possible and, as his nervous eyes scanned the large space, Murdoch pressed closer into the confines of his booth, thankful for the sudden crowd of people who obscured him from view.

'Team leader, this is Murdoch,' he whispered into the communicator that was couched in the palm of his hand beneath the phone, 'target has entered Piccadilly Station and is heading for the - wait.'

As the crowds moved on Murdoch expected to see McIntire heading left away from him and towards the barriers, instead he was startled to see him walk past less than ten feet away, heading towards an exit. In his surprise Murdoch stared at McIntire and, as the nervous man glanced around yet again, their eyes met.

OooooO

It was definitely him, the man with the black jacket on his arm, the man who was calling to the woman - but there was no woman there now. And that look he'd given him...

Owen felt his stomach turn to ice and his heart gave a great thud. Of course they haven't lost me, he thought desperately, they're everywhere. I'm never going to get away! They'll hunt me down, like they did the rest and then...

He glanced again at the man in the booth. He had his face turned away again but he was talking urgently into what appeared to be the phone, although the angle looked peculiar. Another darting glance in his direction was enough to set Owen off running.

He raced towards the nearest exit and along the tunnel. Ahead of him he could see the stairs that led out and, above them, the neon façade of a bar.

He hurled himself at the stairs taking them two, three at a time, clutching hold of the brass banister to help haul himself up as quickly as possible. Behind him he could hear the echoing footsteps of the other man. He heard a breathless American accent calling directions to an unseen colleague.

Owen looked again at the top of the stairs, he wouldn't have been surprised if another clone in a black suit had appeared at the top to grab him but instead he emerged into the rain again on an empty side street. He hastily looked down the street in both directions, one way led to the bustling crowds of Piccadilly Circus and the other led along the quiet street where bin bags lined the back of shops and restaurants. He could run in either direction but the feel of his heart pounding heavily against his ribs told him that he couldn't go on. He looked again at the bar in front of him and made an immediate decision.

OooooO

'He's entered a bar - 'Jewel' on ... Glasshouse Street. What are your orders?' Murdoch panted into his communicator.

'Stay where you are. Try to see if there are any other exits but stay within reach of the main door. I'm on my way.'

Suddenly Murdoch's communicator was yanked out of his hands.

Turning quickly he found himself looking into the impassive face of Kaiba.

'Roland, I'm here. We're going inside to get this son of a bitch.' He stated coolly.

'Sir I would really advise -' began a suddenly flustered Roland but the communicator was already being flung back to Murdoch who was left staring after Kaiba's coat tails.

'Um, we're going in,' he repeated quickly and switched off the communicator, cutting off Roland's desperate appeals for them both to wait.

Hurriedly he followed Kaiba into the bar.

Instantly he felt swallowed up by the noise and heat. People were packed into the space so tightly he could barely move between them. He could see Kaiba ahead of him, the man's tall figure seeming to glide through the crowds whilst Murdoch himself had to twist and nudge and apologise his way through.

When he finally caught up with his boss, he found that Kaiba had somehow managed to get the attention of a member of the bar staff despite the throngs of other people waiting to be served. The barman was nodding and indicating some stairs that were on the right of the bar.

'- barged right through, caused a bit of a stir. Oi!-' he began to call as Kaiba immediately headed for the stairs, 'who are you anyway?'

Murdoch quickly reached into his pocket and drew out a card and pushed it towards the man.

'London Underground,' he stated firmly in his best English accent which the barman took to be Australian, 'official tube business.'

He smiled winningly and turned towards the stairs to follow Kaiba who had already disappeared.

OooooO

Owen's eyes quickly flicked around the upstairs bar searching for another door, another set of stairs, anything that would allow his flight to continue. He pushed through the crowd which was thinner than it had been downstairs. Through the forest of bodies he caught sight of a door; the only visible exit from the room. Owen made his way through towards it. At the last moment he turned so that he was facing the room, pleased to see that no one was paying him any attention, Owen moved quickly backwards pushing the door open with his elbow and silently slipping through.

OooooO

Seto reached the top of the stairs and stood for a moment surveying the scene. Behind him he could hear Murdoch racing up the stairs to catch him, but he didn't look around. He scanned the faces of the people near him, some of whom had stopped what they were doing and were staring openly at the tall, determined-looking stranger.

Murdoch came to a stop beside his boss trying hard to keep his breathing under control so he didn't appear unfit.

'The rest of the team should be here soon.' Seto said still not making eye contact. 'Stay here until you see them arriving and then follow me.'

'Sure thing, umm, where are you -' but Seto had already moved away, striding confidently towards the door on the other side of the room.

OooooO

McIntire had raced up another flight of stairs and now stood, his heart pounding, in front of a dirty grey metal door. He pushed down on the bar and lurched onto the roof terrace, the heavy rain mingling with his sweat and the cool air soothing his straining lungs.

He let the door clang shut behind him and ran to the edge of the building where a low level wall separated the space from the view of the street below. Looking over he let out a frightened whimper as he saw three men, in black suits, running towards the building.

He jumped as there was a sudden loud bang behind him. Turning quickly he stumbled over his own feet, and reached out to the wall to stabilise himself. He looked across the roof to the now open door.

Silhouetted by the light from a distant bulb Seto Kaiba stood in the doorway one hand out to keep the door from slamming shut, the other hand casually placed on his hip. The wind whipped the hair around his face almost obscuring his cold expression. His coat played around his ankles in a mass of movement which contrasted sharply with the stillness of the man himself.

McIntire's heart seemed to freeze in recognition of the man in front of him. This was the Seto Kaiba. One of the richest and most powerful men in the world; the man he had tried to kill.

Seto stepped forward onto the roof, letting go of the door and allowing it to slam shut behind him.

'Owen McIntire.' It was a statement rather than a question. 'We have a number of... issues we need to discuss.'

'K-Kaiba,' Owen gasped through trembling teeth. 'I -'

'Firstly,' Seto cut across him his tone cold and harsh, 'there's the small matter of you trying to kill me,' he stepped forwards towards the cowering man. 'Secondly, you tried to extort money from my company,' McIntire tried to speak but Kaiba stopped him before he even got a sound out. His voice, though calm, was dripping with anger. 'And third, in your pathetic assassination attempt you succeeded in injuring a friend of mine.'

Owen shook his head wildly, his face pale in the darkness. 'It wasn't me - I didn't have anything to do with it. I - I don't even know what you're talking about.'

Seto stopped a few feet from the shaking man and raised his eyebrows coolly. 'Ah, now that's a bit strange. You see I've had a number of conversations with people who would swear that, not only are you involved, but that you are actually the ring leader.'

'They're lying.' McIntire's voice was high pitched in terror. 'They're telling you that to save their own skins.'

Seto gave a calculatedly nonchalant shrug. 'If they were hoping to be saved by that then... they must have been very disappointed.'

'What do you mean? What did you do?'

Seto gave him a long look before twisting his lips into a crooked smile. 'The same thing that I intend to do to you, shortly.'

Seto watched impassively as the man's face drained of colour. He had witnessed the same level of fear in the other men he'd detained. Initially he had been surprised and not a little confused by it. It had been Roland who had explained the uncomfortable truth that the criminal fraternity had a healthy level of respect for the Kaiba name following Gozaburo's ruthless dealings with those who crossed him in the past. His father's treatment of his enemies often included unimaginable torture and the involvement of their family. It was a legacy of terror that had lasted well beyond the old man's death.

Whilst disgusted by the discovery, Seto had to admit that the reputation certainly served his purposes; both of Owen's associates had almost instantly confessed to their involvement in the bombing of his New York offices and had thrown themselves on his mercy. They had whimpered and pleaded and had spilled forth information as if their very lives depended on it.

Naturally Seto had no intention of breaking anyone's legs or slicing off the top of their fingers or any of the other disturbing things that he discovered were his adoptive father's trademark. In fact, when he told Owen that he was going to treat him in the same manner that he had dealt with the others, he only meant that he would turn him over to the Metropolitan Police to let the courts deal with him. However, Seto felt that it was in his best interests for McIntire to remain unaware of this fact for the time being.

Owen cowered on the floor, his back pushed hard up against the low grey wall of the roof top. His hands clawed anxiously at the ground beneath him, the coarse bitumen drawing blood from his knuckles. Kaiba stood above him, his coat flaring about him, the light from the nearby buildings lighting up the rain around him with an eerie orange glow. His face was shadowy, his eyes hidden in blackness, only a faint light revealing the sneering lips. To Owen he seemed like the angel of death come to get him personally.

There was a sudden noise somewhere behind Kaiba and the towering man briefly turned, his intense gaze shifting off Owen for a brief moment. That was all that Owen needed, without those dark eyes on him he felt like his body had been granted movement again and he took advantage of it. Almost instantly he was on his feet and running. He barged past Kaiba who leapt back in surprise. He had thought of trying to get to the door but he saw that it was blocked by two men. Wildly he changed direction heading for the furthest point on the expanse of roof terrace.

His mind was suddenly clear and focused. He seemed to see and hear everything in infinite clarity. The blurry reflections in the puddles on the ground, the dark, twisted shapes of ventilation shafts, the squelching sound of his thudding footsteps. 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. McIntire's mind began calculating even as his pace increased. He actually found himself laughing as he leapt up onto the low wall and then, with all his might, sprang forward, into the open void, towards the distant roof.

It wasn't like a cartoon. There was no moment of stillness or furious peddling of legs before the inevitable decent. Owen desperately reached out, his arms stretching to cross the gap. His fingertips brushed the brickwork of the other building but didn't connect.

He fell with a piercing scream.

Murdoch was the first to reach the point where McIntire 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. 'Shit' he said.