escape | vento aureo

vi. la squadra

Following the disaster DIO created using the Stand arrows, the Speedwagon Foundation, with the help of two people who'd fought the vampire personally, made it a side mission of theirs to hunt down the remaining arrows. Two were found in Morioh, Japan. The remaining ones belong to the Boss, the leader of Passione. One of the men who fought DIO, a Frenchman named Jean Pierre Polnareff, is leading the investigation. However, they need a source on the inside. That's where I come in. It's my mission to get him information about Passione, so that he knows when it's a good time to put an end to the Boss's reign.

When we were doing debriefings and training, I didn't think "getting kidnapped by a group of vengeful circus freak-looking gangsters" would be a scenario thrown at me.

I curse the blindfold around my eyes and the ropes around my wrists and ankles. Escape is useless, along with all the combat training I have. I slouch in the metal chair the best I can and jut out my chin. A façade of fearlessness. The room is nearly silent, save for the light breathing I hear all around me. It's been several minutes since the giant manhandled me and tied me up.

"Who are you?" a deep voice asks. The giant.

"If you don't know who I am, why did you have Pigtails kidnap me?"

A spike of pain stabs at the back of my hand like a nail is being driven into the thin skin. I breathe in sharply and hold back an expletive.

"Direct answers only," Giant growls. Then he adds gruffly, "Please."

"He doesn't mean it," someone says, holding back a laugh. I recognize the voice of the man with short hair. "Any of us would gut you right here if we didn't need you for something."

"And what is that something?" I ask with fake politeness.

"Answer the question. Who are you?"

I almost flip my hair but then remember it's tied up and short. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you."

There's a sigh.

I raise my eyebrows. "Not the answer you were looking for?"

"Quinn, judging by what I've heard and the fact I've seen your dumbassery with my own two eyes, I fail to see how you managed to put Ghiaccio, my second-in-command and the second strongest on my team, in the hospital."

"Desperation and wanting to, you know, not die."

"But you could have forfeited at any moment. The fight would have ended, and you'd have gone about your day." His presence becomes closer to me.

"During the fight," Illuso says, "you asked Ghiaccio if the fight was worth losing a leg over, yet you were in the same position as him. Something in Passione is, to you, worth losing a leg over. What was it?"

"Illuso, that has nothing to do with this," Giant snaps. "Quinn, I want to know how a fresh-faced newbie like you beat him."

I chew on the question for a moment. "As Illuso so kindly pointed out earlier, I threatened to cut his leg off. Not many people would call that a wonderful experience. I also deduced he was a logical thinker, as he never made foolish mistakes when I taunted him. Logical thinkers put logic over, well, pride. I figured he'd take a hit to his pride rather than lose a limb. So I used that against him and tested my own theory. Thankfully for me, I was right."

A silence falls over the room.

"Guy's got brains," someone says. The guy in purple.

Giant clears his throat. "Interesting. So you do have a brain."

"May I leave now? You got what you wanted."

There's a chuckle. "Uh, no," Illuso replies. "See, my friend, we've got a mission this evening, one that Ghiaccio was supposed to go on. And since you put him in the hospital, you'll have to be his replacement."

I groan. "Giant, please tell me he's joking."

No one says anything.

I snort. "Oh, right. Man who I'm assuming his in charge, the Jolly Green Giant just without the 'jolly' and 'green' parts, is the one I'm talking to. Since, you know, you never told me your name."

His irritation permeates the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He finally says, "I'm Risotto Nero. I'll forgive that but only because I'm in a good mood."

This is what your being in a good mood looks like? And wait--your parents named you Black Rice??

Someone removes my blindfold. I squint at the light and realize we're in a kitchen. I look around at all of them. There are four here; Ghiaccio's gone, and the other two must be somewhere else. My eyes land on Nero. He glares at me, and I return the look. The corner of his mouth twitches just the slightest bit, so slight that I almost miss it.

"So, Nero, what exactly is this mission for?"

Purple finally speaks up. "I'm sure that in Illuso's rushed tour, he told you about the different kinds of teams within Passione. Well, we're La Squadra di Esecuzione." A wicked grin grabs hold of his features. "We kill people for a living."

I blink at him. "Um, thanks for elaborating."

"We have a politician to kill tonight," Illuso says. "It was Ghiaccio's job, but now it's yours. Consider it a punishment."

"He literally agreed to it?" I shoot back without thinking.

Nero walks behind me, and I feel him cutting the zipties around my wrists. I pull my hands to front of me hastily and rub my wrists. On the back of my right hand is a puncture wound with a . . . tack sticking out of it. I stare at it dumbfounded before pulling it out.

The man then leaves the room, saying, "Melone and Illuso will fill you in. Formaggio, come hither for a second."

The short-haired one follows behind him, leaving me with Illuso and Purple (who must be Melone). I turn to them and flash a quick smile. "Hello there."

Melone gives a quick wave. "You're going to be with Illuso, Prosciutto, and Pesci on this one. I'm just here because I kinda have all the information on the guy you're gonna kill." He trots out the door. "Come along."

Illuso follows him. I try to go with them, but I'm stopped by the zipties around my ankles. "Uh, guys!? I can't--help! My ankles!” I yell out the door.