Flowers

## Meta

Timing: 2016 January (must...change...mental...image...of...weather...)

Setting: Hong Kong

## Text

"Sweetie!" A young, Chinese person with pleasant, flowery perfume, latches onto--

Stacker starts.

--his arm. "I've been looking for you for /**ages**." Flowers kisses his cheek, murmurs, "Creep at three o'clock."

Stacker glances peripherally--

Another person of Chinese descent in a well-tailored but disheveled suit glaring their way.

Stacker puts his arm around Flowers, says, "I thought we were meeting at fifteen-hundred."

Flowers snuggles close (their hair, just past their shoulders with fluffy curls, smells like roses) and puts their arm around his waist. "I finished early. Texted you?"

Stacker fishes out his phone (brushes a card he didn't have before) and checks the screen: it's on silent and announces two unread messages. "Sorry, love." Kisses the person back, returns his phone. "Where to now?"

Flowers makes a show of thinking. "Might as well go meet Grandfather."

Stacker quails. "He'll like me, yea?"

Flowers' eyes fill with affection. "Oh—" Leans against him. "—he'll /**love** you."

Stacker sighs. "Lead the way."

Flowers slips from under his arm outside the HSBC Building, smiles. "Thank you very much for your help." Digs through their purse, takes out a pen, looks up through their eyelashes. "Maybe, next time you have a free day, you could give me a call?" Taps the pen against their lips.

"Maybe I will," replies Stacker.

Flowers tips the pen his way.

Stacker takes it.

Flowers flounces a one-eighty. "See you around!" Throws a wink and a kiss over their shoulder.

Stacker taps the pen against his mouth.

Flowers smiles.

The attendant opens the door.

An elderly, dignified person exits, greets Flowers warmly, nods to Stacker, and then they re-enter the building.

Stacker heads off.

.

He sits down at the tea shop where he's meeting Tamsin, pulls out his mobile—the card!

Matte gold, a string of Hanzi, '[Leung]Teng Willow' and a phone number, HSBC logo, and carved.

He frowns, turns it over.

Matte gold, slightly larger HSBC logo.

Turns it back over.

Stacker can't make out the design with his fingers. He could run pencil—the pen!

He snatches the pen from his other pocket.

Retractable, same matte gold, same name and phone number, same logo.

Clicks—holy shit, the card glows.

The pen is a black light—

The top left corner!

.

LEAVE THE DOORS OPEN

TONITE @ CURFEW

.

Hell, no—Below it,

.

ILL OWE YOU

.

Random lines in the bottom right— a doodle of three children. Above it,

.

THEY KIDNAPPED

MY BROTHERS

.

"What's that?" asks Tamsin, plunking down in the seat opposite.

"I think it's a jail break."

.

They get back to the 'Dome with a few minutes to spare.

"Hey, guys," calls Tamsin.

The people gathered near the back doors, smoking and chatting, greet her in return.

Stacker asks, "What's the pool like this week?"

"Eh, Dao and Tse," says a custodian.

"Not much," shrugs a nurse.

The loudspeaker chimes.

"That's that," sighs a LOCCENT officer.

They exchange farewells and head back inside, with Tamsin and Stacker bringing up the rear.

Stacker drops a coin into the threshold.

.

Stacker wakes up.

A shadow peels itself off the wall and sits on his bed.

A flashlight clicks on under a chin.

"Boo," grins Leung Teng Willow, clicks off the flashlight.

Stacker sits up, scrubs his face. "Jailbreak go well?"

"Oh, I kidnapped them back shortly after they were taken."

"So this was to destroy data."

"Corrupted it weeks ago."

"A recon mission, then."

"I already have most of what they have."

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"A prompt," Leung replies. "Do not trust your superiors."

"I never trust the Suits."

"Problems with authority," agrees Leung.

"That record's sealed," growls Stacker.

"Sealed to some."

"You're not endearing yourself."

"I'm not trying to. I only wanted someone who would listen."

"And you think I am."

"You haven't called security."

"Doesn't mean I trust you."

"You don't have to." A pause. "Your superiors consider their Rangers expendable. I doubt they would be so bold as to do away with you on a whim, but they wouldn't hesitate to make up an excuse should they become upset."

"You think they would kill their only defence against the Kaiju."

“Are you?”

“They have something besides Jaegers?”

“They’re called ‘nukes’ and they don’t work.”

“So we /**are** the only defence.”

“But are you a defence?”

“What else would we be?”

“Tools of war—”

“To defend against—”

“Are you defending?”

Stacker stops.

“Or are you prolonging?”

Stacker’s blood chills.

“You’re thinking now, good.”

Stacker shakes it off. “Are you?”

“Am I?”

“Are you thinking? Are you just speculating? Are you just a conspiracy theorist?”

A chuckle. “No, this isn't just speculation. I have their records, remember?”

“And this isn't conjecture.”

“I know they will replace you or any one of your associates at the slightest provocation.”

Stacker shrugs, leans back. “Wouldn't mind being free of this mortal coil.”

"I never said they would kill you."

Stacker senses movement near his ear.

"They can do far worse than merely killing."

A cool, metal circle in his palm.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing." Leung draws away. “Continue as you were.” Fabric rustling. “You know how to reach me.”

And Stacker is alone.