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Wicked Game

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Temara

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Feb 6, 2010
Two weeks had passed, two weeks and Celeste had refused to see him every time. He'd tried her apartment, he'd tried her office. She knew about the attempts, of course. Her security was top notch. But she couldn't face him, knowing that both he and the only other important man in her life had hated each other enough to slug it out. She, of course, didn't know it had only been a single hit each. She was still furious, and no matter what Mei Lee told her, she refused to see either of them.

The tiny oriental woman was worried. In two weeks, Mei Lee had watched her best friend refuse to eat, barely function at work, until finally she'd had enough and had sent the redhead home. After more than two weeks and still no sign of improvement, Mei Lee had decided she was going to take and drag her out shopping one morning to get her out of this funk. Only to find Celeste puking her guts up into the toilet. Not the most promising of starts.

"My god, you're pregnant!"

"I am not..." Celeste muttered even as she retched again. She wouldn't have been able to answer the door, luckily Mei Lee had her own key.

"Yes, so that's why the girl with the stomach of iron is worshiping the porcelain gods...."

Celeste gave her a glare. "I am not pregnant. I can't be pregnant. I got the IUD a few years ago."

Mei Lee conceded the point, but chuckled nonetheless. She'd gone through this with her own twins not that long ago. And she was even tinier than Celeste was currently.

"Humor me. I'll go get a pregnancy test from the pharmacy down the street. You'll take it and we'll let medical science decide." Celeste gave her a glare, but acceded.

A few short minutes, Mei Lee appeared back with a small bag in tow. "Since you want to stay so close to your god, you go ahead and do this. I'll be out in the living room."

Celeste muttered and grumbled but did as she was told. After the rather messy business was concluded, she left it in the bathroom and came out to the living room. "It's negative."

Mei Lee shrugged. "It is what it is. Maybe it is just stress."

Ring, ring... It was Celeste's phone ringing, and the woman picked it up, especially once she saw exactly who it was. "Hey Charlie! How are you? A job?" She looked at Mei Lee, who frowned, she knew what it meant when Charlie called. At the same time, she also felt like it might be something to get Celeste's mind off of things. She motioned for her to take it, she'd not interfere this time. She wasn't pregnant, after all. And she had seemed to perk up, which compared to the last two weeks was an improvement she'd take; no questions asked.

"That's horrible! Of course I'll help!" Once Cel had the details down, she looked over at Mei Lee. "I'm going to pack and head out. Think you can lock everything up once you've made sure that I have enough food here like I know you were planning?"

Mei Lee at least managed to look shamefaced. She just wanted to make sure that her friend was taken care of. Was that so bad? She doubted it. But she nodded, and Celeste was off packing, although it didn't take her long, it never did really. Giving Mei Lee the details of how to get a hold of her, Celeste was off again leaving Mei Lee to wonder if the girl would ever settle down. She walked through each of the room, pausing in the room that had belonged to Danielle. Would Celeste ever be able to go into this room again?

Pushing the unhappy thought away with the thought of her own two lovely children, Mei Lee stopped in the bathroom and paused.

Was that...

Oh god, Celeste hadn't waited the full amount of time.

It was positive!

Mei Lee ran to the window only to see Celeste driving off, and other than leaving a message for her with Charlie, there was no way to contact her until the mission was over. Fuck!

Mei Lee was flipping out. She'd just sent her best friend off on a suicide mission while pregnant. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to her. She thought for a moment about her husband, but no, he was not someone to send into the middle of nowhere with no knowledge. He'd likely level the entire zone without asking questions. She loved him dearly, but she knew when something wasn't his style.

Instead, she picked up the phone and called their security detail. "Marcos, I need information on one Kael Vali. See if you can get me a number. It's high priority." She also gave the address of the garage. If there was a way to find his number, Marcos could do it. If the man owned property, he could be found. Once found, he would be getting a great number of calls until he either answered or called back the number she would left on his machine.

"Mr. Vali, this is Mei Lee Akimoto. I am a friend of Samantha's. I need to speak to you. Please call me back at (xxx)xxx-xxxx. It is urgent. Thank you."
 
It wasn't the sort of thing that you wanted to hear after falling out of contact with someone for an extended period of time. Two weeks normally wouldn't have been bad at all, but circumstances were a bit different. This wasn't Athan, who he'd only hear from when things were turning bad, to tip him in, or more often when he made the effort to reach the man regarding that, or business opportunity- so to speak. It certainly wasn't the same as when he and Celeste had had their fling, and a sort of mutual agreement that they'd just run into each other again and have fun when things turned out that way. He'd had serious reason to be concerned about her wellbeing when she vanished, though he'd gotten the message since that it wasn't that kind of vanishment. More purposeful. Which mostly had the effect of getting him agitated as well. Of course, she was agitated about who knew what. Yes, he'd hit frenchie. He was pretty sure they'd both seen that coming a long way off.

But then after he'd really started to worry about her, started to intentionally let someone get close to him. And he hurt her right off the bat. While she was vulnerable. And then she vanished and wouldn't even give him a chance to show whether he'd done whatever it was she'd wanted him to do or not?

Kael could be patient. He'd been a very patient man at times. But this just cooked his goose.

Not that it was entirely logical, but he was too busy being irritated to worry about that.

He might have gone and tried to track her down by now and talk to her, but with her dodging his calls but showing every sign of not having gotten herself killed or in a world of hurt, eventually a guy had to just accept it. Very sourly. The main upside was that bitter frustration was absolutely perfect for kicking his work out regiment up to the next level; his muscles had been in a constant ache since day 4 of the silent treatment, and he'd been handling the business well, repairing his gear, and generally being successful as long as possible to distract himself from his frustration and the nightmares slowly but steadily getting worse.

Attempts to hunt down frenchie's whoreson "gods" and "godesses" had been less successful, and the chances of getting one where he could browbeat them into doing something useful for once seemed pretty long.

Of course, it was likely fortunate he hadn't been in the process of channeling his frustration into exertion when the phone rang, or Mei Lee might have faced a particularly snappy response. The first rings interrupted an attempt at something like meditation, which he'd never been very good at, with hot water pouring down over him. He had no intention of running out to the phone, but subconsciously he upped the pace a little, and walked to the phone, trying to steel himself to be ready to be civil to what was probably another business request on the other end, towling off his head and making sure the rest of him was at least not dripping before he collapsed into his chair- the only one in the place, a simple wooden thing he was lucky to have stand up to the weight- and played back the message he'd missed.

The tension wasted no time in coming back to his shoulders.

So when the phone started ringing again, right beside him, the man snatched up the receiver, sound of Mei Lee's voice intermittently interrupted by the machine switching over to the next message of the same in the background.

"Talk."
 
"Mr. Vali..err..Veli, I'm not sure. Both names are listed. Oh forget it. Kael..." Mei Lee was flustered, it happened rarely, but when it did, it was a sight to see. "I'm on my way to your house, I'll be there in about an hour. I have some urgent news for you concerning Samantha." Of course, she didn't know that Sam liked it when Rayner called her Celeste, and so called her by the name most everyone else did.

"She is safe for the moment...but..." She glanced down at the small, seemingly harmless stick that sat in her lap as she drove. "Please make sure you have a bottle of bourbon in the house. I think we might both need it." She couldn't just tell him a thing like this over the phone. For all she knew, he wouldn't even believe her.

Once they hung up, she continued on her way from Barton to Durem, weaving in and out of traffic like a pro. It was a skill that her husband had demanded she master or she hadn't been allowed to drive while pregnant. About a half an hour later, she arrived.
 
"Veli."

Why it would have him listed as Kael Veli, or where Vali came from, he wasn't sure. The most curious thing was how his alias got paired up with his actual last name but... if this was the woman that worked for Sam, he probably shouldn't be surprised that it was all out there somewhere. Available information; he wasn't sure if that was frustrating or convenient. Someone had been bound to put the two together sooner or later anyway, it wasn't as though his facial scars were that inconspicuous.

"It's urgent but it can wait an- alright."

He nodded along and agreed with the rest of it. Despite that, his initial impatience quickly got worse. The phone was down, and he got dressed, shoved his things away into what would on the surface appear a spartan neatness in his tiny apartment, simply shoving the messes that were into drawers or his single closet, jamming it in, shoving it all away, forcing the place to come off like he wasn't feeling tempted to smash it.

Within five minutes, the pacing set in.

In ten, he'd resorted to music to calm himself down.

By the twenty marker, music had failed him as well, and he sat down before he could break anything.

When Mei Lee arrived, the outside of the building would be as it ever was- colorless, and quiet, in good repair and resembling respectable only in that it was not dilapidated like a few of the other buildings seated in the Durem slum area. The first floor was a garage, locked down now, with a closed sign hung over the front, and a likely locked door underneath some old wooden stairs. Unless she planned to check the garage, that'd be her option- the stairs up to the second level, that looked like it could actually be a residence, no more decorated than the first floor of the building. When she knocked, she'd be informed through the door that it wasn't locked. And inside, well-

The place was nothing to look at. Undecorated over all, empty wall and floors in bland gray colors that came cheapest, and a wooden floor low on furnish. Past the initial entry way was a single step up- two sets of wide-foot shoes left just before it- an empty main room with a single small table and chair, a TV that looked barely new enough to have color and practically small enough to take traveling, hooked to a similarly ancient VHS player- not even DVD. All of the doors to adjacent rooms were closed, plain wooden doors, some of the only wooden things that didn't appear to have been made by hands. Competent hands, but not ones that would find any profit trying to sell furniture. The man they belonged to was almost certainly the fellow with unkempt brown hair behind the bar-style counter of the kitchenette, a stool on the side facing the door much like the one he was sitting on, with deep scars wrenched down his left cheek, jagged and long, and other smaller marks hanging around his face, in a black muscle shirt that did little to hide the similar ripping-claw scars down his left shoulder. The right side seemed to have gotten off light in comparison, the smooth line under an eye half hidden by the bags there, little dot in the cheek hardly visible- only the notch out of his lip on that side seemed of much note.

As if he had been waiting entirely too long to see her to do so, Kael tossed back a glass a shot of bourbon whiskey, and dumped ice out of a bucket on the table, filling his glass and an empty one on the other side of the counter with the stuff.

"You're early,"

He didn't sound displeased, but... well, he looked like he sounded. Tired and or frustrated, but trying to come off as personable- or at least businesslike- as possible. Eyes that in the dim light seemed almost red rather than brown watched her carefully.
 
Mei Lee didn't give much time to pay attention to her surroundings, she'd received the reports. Browning Enterprises was still a relatively small company and as such everyone knew everyone's business. But Mei Lee was also Sam's friend, and that meant that she and Shun had arranged to have Rayner checked out. They knew who he was through his miscellenous contacts with Sam over the past few years, and had put two and two together, the only conflict being the name he used. They simply assumed one was an alias. It was easy enough to do on Gaia.

But as she stepped through the doorway, she was completely out of place. Everything about Mei Lee was picture perfect. From the daintiest of feet that wore black oriental slippers, to the full kimono that was arrayed in shades of blue and green. Even her hair was perfectly coiffed, pulled back into a tight bun. And yet, the woman wasn't even five feet tall. Looking over at Rayner, she smiled, the only thing softening her pristine appearance.

"We finally meet." Her hands were still within her kimono sleeves; she wasn't quite ready to play her ace in the hole. "Both I and my mother have been told so much about you." She was trying to lay on the pleasantries, because she was nervous, and it was a good retreat for her. Her husband would have tried to lock her up for a week for coming to an unknown man's house unattended, which is why her husband didn't know about this expedition. He simply thought her shopping with Samantha.

But then she saw the bourbon. "Oh thank god..." And headed over to the kitchenette, ignoring his statement about being early. If she didn't say anything, then she could simply omit how fast she'd been driving to Shun. Taking the glass, she downed it like a pro although it still burned, and her eyes felt like they would pop out of her head. '"I will never get used to that..." Sam had taught her how to drink, even though it was completely against Mormonism. At times, Mei lee wondered how Celeste reconciled her faith.

"Anyways...Cel...Samantha is gone." It taking her a moment to remember to call her friend Sam. "She went on a mission for Charlie, an old contact of hers that has her going on missions much like the one you met her on or other like adventures." She sighed. "I'm sure after her not talking to you for two weeks, you're wondering why I'm coming to you about this..." There was no time like the present.

She opened her sleeve, and slid out the pregnancy test and slid it across the table to Rayner, the glaring + sign a bright brilliant blue. "I trust you know what that is..."
 
"Not sure how I should take that one."

He grinned darkly, and tried humor- he managed sarcasm at least. Trying the pleasantry back at her, though it was pretty clear that he didn't entirely have the patience for it. She'd announced an emergency of some sort after all, and given the mood he'd already been in, it wasn't the kind of thing to make him want to sit quietly and listen.

"Mmm," he took a smaller drink form his own, refilling one and then the other, putting the glass down. Unsurprisingly, he took it with less fuss. Mei Lee had a dainty look. Kael couldn't show his face without putting on display the fact that he'd tussled too close with things with claws in the past, and the not-quite-clean shave and moody impatience couldn't do much to help the aggressive, violent low class attitude he must be giving off to this born-rich woman's well put together friend. And God knew what she'd heard about him.

...no wonder she felt nervous.

"Charlie?" he followed along uncertainly, putting together what he could of a situation that he knew next to nothing about, entirely unsure how it fit into the context of everything. The word 'adventures' almost made him scoff a laugh, but he held it in. It gave him the idea. Bryant's voyage had not been particularly safe or local to begin with. It had turned out a hell of a lot worse than they'd gone in with an impression of, but that was to be expected. Everything seemed to be the exception when he was around. Lady Luck was one massive, menstruating bitch. "Also wondering why she didn't call me a week ago." He sharply stopped griping as she pulled something else, and slid it across the table.

Kael's gloved hand stopped on the thing, and he moved it out of the way, to give him a decent look at just what he had. Surprise showed on his face about the same time a pit formed in his stomach. His eyes snapped up,

"That's- I haven't even seen her for two weeks, and she has that thing that..."

He trailed off. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head, putting it all together as he interrupted himself mid thought and dropped piece after piece together. His eyes slowly widened, as the surprise and logical shooting down came in- as he realized that she probably DIDNT have the IUD anymore after all, and that, well, he hadn't seen her for two weeks, and if she thought she had it too it probably would be just long enough to start to notice things.

Kael finally raised his left hand above the table, forgoing his glass of bourbon entirely. He grabbed the bottle, and turned it bottoms up.

And it stayed there.

Several seconds later, he slammed it back to the table with a crack- though the table and bottle each seemed to survive the sound. His eyes were still a thousand yards off, slackjawed and dazed, as if he'd taken a right hook from a brick house straight on the chin.

"Two goddamn weeks and she hasn't told me-"

He interrupted to himself as he slumped over onto his left arm, catching his own weight and glancing up at- or more like past- Mei Lee.

"No. She doesn't know."

Kael was no scholar, but he hadn't survived the shit he had this long by being stupid- just moronic enough to actually get involved in the things he did. He repeated the motion with the bottle of bourbon.
 
"Yes."

Mei Lee was quiet for a moment. "After her being miserable for over two weeks, I sent her home only to come upon her puking her guts up. I demanded she take the test, which she did, but she didn't read the instructions that said to wait five minutes, and then she got a phone call from Charlie and she took it. Since I believed her when she said she wasn't pregnant, I told her to go because maybe it would get her mind off her upset. I don't know what happened to her that caused her to leave you, but she's been miserable and she might be more reckless than usual in this state of mind...and with her not knowing..." She shrugged, it was hard to say, she'd done the only thing she could think of.

"She would have only found out today. She left just a few hours ago. About a half an hour before I found the test discarded. In fact, I'd say she'll have a rather rough pregnancy if she's started having morning sickness this early. Normally it doesn't start for a month." She looked at Rayner with a wry grin.

"The question is how you'll cope with it all."
 
The information didn't seem to sit easily with him, as he sat there and chewed on it, just short of physically chewing on his lip while he took it in, staring back down to the table again. For the moment, he passed on providing her an answer to her question. He wasn't entirely sure what she knew, or what he thought, or what the hell was going on. Disorientation, right hook, etc. What would he do? For now? In the long term? Hell, there was going to be a child out there with his name on it? Still didn't seem possible. He blinked a few times, as if trying to rouse himself out of the stupor, and this time drained his glass, actually making a face this time.

"...to start with. You think she's going to get herself hurt out there?"

His left hand vanished behind the counter again, and this time when it rose above it again, it was holding a sawed off shot gun.

Yeah, that'd put her at ease.

He set the thing on the counter, and if Mei Lee knew as much about firearms as her employer she'd be able to tell the safety was still on. It wasn't a particularly scary model, old farm style double barrel that would have to be opened to reload after a single shot from each barrel, but the idea of not being intimidating and shotguns didn't mix too well anyway. He stood up, his body doing that well at least, though once he was up he seemed lost for direction.
 
At the sight of the shotgun, Mei Lee just laughed. "I think that if your plan is to bring a shot gun to save the girl, she can probably save herself. She's been eating and breathing guns since she was seven years old. What she needs is a good old fashioned spanking, but I doubt most people would be willing to even try it with the ice princess routine she puts on." But she sobered after her comment, and took the bottle, pouring another swig for herself.

"Personally, I think you two are going to be as much of idiots as nature will allow you to be, much like I was when I found out I was pregnant. Not only was it outside of wedlock" that part just seemed completely at odds with the vision of proper oriental flower of woman hood sitting across from him, "...but I would not marry the father. He had me kidnapped, pleaded with me, and it took two blooming rose bushes for me to say yes." A glance up. "I'm not saying to marry her. From what she's told me of your relationship, it's not like that. But she has her pride to. Even if she has not said it, she loves you. You need to figure out what you need or want from her, because it's just cruel to drag it out, especially once a child becomes involved. Either cleave to her..." she giggled, cleaved was such a funny word. Yeah, and Mei Lee could not hold her liquor in the least. "...or let her go." She stood unsteadily and reached into the pocket of her kimono once more.

"Here is Charlie's address. He's one tough bastard to find. He is a ghost on the system. I only managed that much thanks GPS tracking in one of Cel's cars." Funny how she's forgotten to call Cel Sam by this point. Woman could not hold her liquor at all. "She took her bike. I'm sure you know what kind of damage can be done on a bike. As for getting into trouble, I only know that when she's upset she can be reckless. I once heard she held a shotgun to a man that she liked. And this was before she loosened up. You do the math." She was a little unsteady on her feet, but she was determined to walk out of here upright. Okay, so the bourbon was a bit much. She'd remember that next time. As she headed to the door, she threw a grin over her shoulder.

"Tell Sam that if she gets herself killed, we can't ever have that threesome she talked about." It was an old thing between them, that with Shun around wouldn't happen, but it was also a code between the girls when the other thought she was doing something stupid.
 
The irony, with some aid of the burbon, was palpable.

"Hah!"

He couldn't help but let his face conform to the laugh with it. She needed a spanking, that no one was willing to give, did she? A job much like Frostchild, you say? If Kael had believed in fate, or that Rafe's "gods" were more than senile metas grown too powerful and lived too long, he'd have attributed a serious sense of humor to something out there. Not that he was sure if he would have wanted to give them a handshake or the bird. Nah, this was just too rich, but he had to try to be serious. Unfortunately, he'd gone and taken in enough of the bourbon that he probably needed something to help rush it out of his system before he ran, but. At least, all in all, Mei Lee was attributing the shot gun to his idea of running to Sam's rescue. Not to his paranoia regarding people he didn't know coming to his house.

"If this is anything like Frostchild, the shotgun'd be more for my own good."

Oh, the multiple meanings he could attribute to that.

The rest, he had to listen to thoughtfully. Or, not really thoughtfully. He could try, but if Mei Lee had heard anything about him from Sam she'd know that he was willing to compromise to do another good, think things over. Be flexible and consider multiple approaches. And that once he made up his mind or got involved in something, he was more stubborn than a rock. The "gods" themselves had literally failed to make him budge on occasion. She was right about two things though. He needed to make a decision. And regardless of what he did, he was bound to be fighting Celeste's pride every single step of the way. Good thing he already knew which one of them was harder to budge in a shoving match.

He took the positive test and the bit of paper with the address both in one hand, looking them over. Stone faced until she got to the bit about holding a gun on a man she liked- he had another outburst of suppressed laughter there, choking on the irony of it all.

He glanced up one last time as the woman left, and stared at the door.

Tiny, exotic. Celeste's friend. He had always been making jokes with her. With that baggy fabric hiding everything it was entirely up to guesswork what she was like underneath, at which point the imagination went wild and-

He threw his head back laughing one last time into the empty room, dumping what was left of the bourbon and ice in his glass down the sink. He needed to get ready to go. He'd be set a lot sooner than Mei Lee would recover, but he was probably twice her weight and had a lifestyle built around just how much shit he could put his body through and come out of tougher instead of broken. Including the period where he'd abused his liver for fear of growing into an addiction to his painkillers.

He buckled down on his elbows, staring at the ice sitting in the empty glass across the table and the capped bourbon, gloved fingers pattering in rhythm.

"Fuck."

He closed his eyes and breathed out.

"Pregnant."

That was an idea he wasn't going to get used to soon.

Fifteen minutes later, one man left the Rayner Veli residence upstairs of the Veli repair shop, in a savagely worn duster coat showing lumps in odd places underneath, over thick forearms and chest, mounting his motorcycle with something large and dark strapped across his back. Now, just to throw himself into mortal peril, and whatever Celeste was faced with.

Keys in, and turn.
 
Even a three hour drive can seem like an eternity when you're pulling over to the side of the road to throw up what you haven't eaten. Luckily, each time didn't take too long and she was back on the road quickly, heading up the long and empty road to G-town. Charlie liked his gambling, and despite how ugly the habit could be, she knew he did a lot of good with the money he won so she didn't fault him in the least. Arriving in what used to be her old college town, she couldn't help but smile. Every emotion was written on everyone's face. You could tell who had won, and who had lost and who was looking for a game. But she had a different goal in mind.

Parking her bike in front of what looked like an old condemned building, she threw the keys to an old man who was sprawled out the front of it. He'd watch the bike for her, knowing she'd give him cash afterward, and would move it if people started asking too many questions. No offers were given, nor were thanks. It was just the system here, right beneath the nose of the high and mighty.

Shoving aside a few planks and letting them fall back into place, she moved through the condemned building with ease. "Hey Charlie...Damnit, I know you're here!"
 
When Sam was done yelling, she'd hear snoring coming from another area of the building near by. If she moved towards the sound, eventually she'd come to a large figure sprawled out along an old, battered couch. Booted feet crossed and propped up on a torn arm. Part of the newspaper covering the mans face floating up slightly with each rumbling snore. One burly arm hung off the side of the couch, the weathered hand seeming to reach for a half empty bottle of whiskey just out of it's grasp even while he slept.

It would seem Sam would need to yell louder to get Charlies attention.
 
When Sam was done yelling, she'd hear snoring coming from another area of the building near by. If she moved towards the sound, eventually she'd come to a large figure sprawled out along an old, battered couch. Booted feet crossed and propped up on a torn arm. Part of the newspaper covering the mans face floating up slightly with each rumbling snore. One burly arm hung off the side of the couch, the weathered hand seeming to reach for a half empty bottle of whiskey just out of it's grasp even while he slept.

It would seem Sam would need to yell louder to get Charlie's attention.
Click to expand...

"You old cooger..." She muttered, slightly amused. He calls her on a proposition, and then goes to pass out. It must be a bad one if he drunk himself in a stupor. Women in trouble, he wouldn't bother. Children...

She debated for a few minutes on what to do and then smiled. He did like his whiskey... With a grin, she picked up the half empty bottle of whiskey and began to pour it out onto the rubble around the floor. Charlie could sleep like the dead, but if he heard whiskey being wasted, he came up a swinging. Which of course meant that Sam was a good distance away so she didn't get whacked herself. When he awoke, he'd see her standing there in her standard dark red leather biking outfit, boots, pants and top, all fitting like a dream...pouring out his whiskey...a nightmare.
 
When the bottle was taken completely out of reach, the hand that hand been trying to get to it seemed to curl slightly. Then the pouring started. A snore, cut off halfway. Lots of sniffing that stopped suddenly after a long inhale. In what almost seemed like one movement belying his age and previous apparent sobriety, the hand on the ground would come up and rip the paper from his face, the booted feet would stomp to the ground, leaving him in a sitting position, hands planted to either side of him about to propel him off and into whoever dared to spill his whiskey.

"Who in the blue hell -"

His eyes managed to focus on the figure holding the upturned bottle, travelling up from the booted feet, following the curves, to the top of fiery hair.

"..."

He sat back, a hand coming up to rub his temples and eyes with a groan.

"Oh. You're here."

Then he looked up at here. Eyes moving from her to the upside down, empty bottle, to the amber pool on the ground, and back to her. Another groan.

"I must have finally drank myself to death and gone to hell."
 
She smiled again. It was nice to see that some people never changed. She didn't know it, but Charlie would be able to see how haunted she was; haunted but determined. "That's what you get for sleeping on the job, Charlie." she tried for a mocking tone, but it fell a little flat. "But I'll drink you under the table on my tab after we finish this one, how's that sound?" Making a bargain like that with the old coot would likely get his ass in gear.

"Then we'll see who will owe more to charity this time." She could drink him under the table, but he won at cards hands down. "So give me more details. We have white slavers? In Gtown? It's hard to believe that this could be going on under everyone's noses. What is it you want me to do?"
 
His dark eyes lit up at her proposal and he snorted at her claim of his slacking off.

"You're on kiddo. And I was jus' restin' my eyes a bit before you showed up."

The eyes darkened again, his head tilting to the side slightly as he looked at her with a frown. Something seemed off. Maybe it was just this job. He'd see after he filled her in more. He waved a hand dismissively with a grunt.

"People are either too scared, paid off, or have a case of sudden onset blindness when questioned by the cops. Yes, it's a white slave ring... Who seem to favor kids."

He sighed and stood up, walking over to a peer out through a crack in a boarded up window, a massive hand scratching his smooth, bald head.

"I got a call from an old contact asking if I could help. Cops can't do shit. They've tried, but half the women you can't tell apart from the men, most of what's left look like cops, and the rest, well... They've tried to get someone inside a couple times. They've either been found floating face down in the lake, or not found at all. What I want you to do..."

He turned to face her again, looking her over once more. The small light coming through the crack in the window illuminating him and causing tiny specks of dust to dance in the light around him. Still not sure whether he should tell her the job or tell her to just go home. She looked like hell. But he knew she wouldn't go home and probably try and do it on her own if he wouldn't give it to her. So he might as well tell her and give her the support she'd need to have any chance of surviving this job. Hell, maybe she'd say no and make things easy on his conscience.

"What I want you to do is infiltrate the slave ring. Find some of the missing girls and kids if you can, find the leader if you can.

Sam, you got more guts than anyone I know. Including me. But for this, you'll need to be bait. Which means you'll go in alone, and unarmed. The only thing you'll have is a sub dermal placed GPS chip so we can track you. It'll be unlikely we'll be able to know if things go south... So I'll understand if you don't want to take this one. It's damn near suicide. The guy running the ring is ruthless. If he finds out you're a plant..."

He turned back to face the window, not knowing if he could keep his face straight anymore. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a zippo from inside his leather jacket, he lit one and took a deep pull, watching the smoke float up as he exhaled.

"If you want the job, I'll make some calls to get things moving and set up. And get a mage and one of my guys to insert the tracker. But like I said, I won't blame you if you don't."
 
"I'll do it."

That was all that needed to be said, right? It was a job, and she'd agreed to it before, and now she was agreeing to it again. The thought of going in with no weapon was scary as hell, but the thought of those poor children. She wrapped her head around her stomach. There was no way she could leave them behind if she could help it.

"Just let's get this done before I change my mind. Will a bit of cash hurry the process up?" She'd never had anything implanted in her beside the IUD a while back...why had she had that implanted again? It was before Rayner...

Shaking off the dizzy spell that thinking about it caused, she tried to focus. "So I'm assuming you have a change of clothing. We can get the implant done shortly. I know you can do it if I push enough money. Can we do it tonight?" A little reckless, but even one more child was too much.
 
He sighed out another breath of smoke and looked up at the ceiling at her reply. Taking a moment before turning away from the window again.

"Alright... Yeah we can do it tonight."

He started walking towards the back of the building where there was a staircase leading down.

"Let's go to my office. I got everything you need there and I'll make those calls."
 
She smiled, but it was a dead smile. "I'll need to know what they're looking for. I'm assuming you already know their general 'nap spots. Is there anything else that I need to do?" She was brisk, almost business like as they headed downstairs. His office in the night club was at least cleaner than the facade up here. Sam knew she wouldn't feel like sneezing her head off every ten seconds. Beyond finding out the intel, there wasn't much to do. If she waited too long, she'd get nervous. This was a completely new thing for her. She wasn't the bait, she was normally the Calvary.

"Let's just do it and get it over with." Rayner would probably tie to a bed and not let her up for a month if he knew what she was doing. Rayner..., she sighed. No use thinking about it. She still wasn't sure what the whole fuss was about, but she was still pissed at both of them.
 
Once in his office, he gestured for Sam to sit, then sat himself behind a big, old, oak desk, unlocking and pulling out a side drawer, he produced a file folder and handed it across to Sam.

"Everything you need to know is in there, the leader, some of the key players, few missing persons reports, likely places of operation. Clothes are over there... You sure you want to do this?"

Knowing the answer, he was already picking up the phone to make the calls he needed to. Getting a specialist to implant the GPS chip in her, a Mage to heal it completely so there'd be no scar or wound, and some of his crew to monitor the chip and her as much as they could. Once everything was done and she was ready, he'd drive her out to near a spot where recently a alarmingly large number of girls had gone missing. Not all street girls either. He'd rather be able to watch her personally, but he couldn't risk being seen, even if it was a slim chance he'd be noticed. So he stopped a few blocks from the spot, where he'd wait and watch a tiny dot blink on a screen.

"Watch your back out there, girl. If you get so much as a whif of trouble, get your pretty little ass out of there. And if this dot stops blinking for any reason, I'll be coming. Remember, you owe me a drink for dumping my whiskey."
 
"This is the best you could do?" She muttered as he dropped her off. She didn't look like a hooker, but she looked only slightly better than a teenage waif. This new appearance of hers was going to take some getting used to. Resisting the urge to wipe the overdone eye makeup from her face or scratch where they'd implanted the GPS, she did her best impression of someone not confident enough to take care of themselves. It wasn't the greatest of neighborhoods, but it wasn't the worst.

The weirdest part was how deserted it was. That was how the news had gotten out. The street rats had scattered so the police knew something was up. She really wished she could just shoot the face off the bastard who was responsible. But that wasn't her gig. She was bait...

Ugh, even the word left a distasteful feeling in her mouth, but she got passed it and headed into the neighborhood, keeping her head down.

"Hey pretty little girl...wanna take a ride...?" a man walked right up beside Sam; they couldn't possibly be -this- bold could they? If they were, the ramifications were staggering. It was likely that they had money; real money, backing it all.

"No thank you..." she made her voice as meek as she dared, without being too over the top. She just let her own nervousness at the situation shine. "I'm just on my way to the store. You know, Greenbies? My ...brother works there..." she let the hesitation and the lie work for her. He'd see that she was trying to get away from him. Luckily, she had lived here before, so she did know where things were.

"Yeah, I know Greenbies. Here, how about I take you there, that way you won't get hurt by any of the rough necks around here."

Relief. That was the next emotions. "Oh would you?! Thank you so much." She even tried not to pay attention as his grasp on her arm tightened and he all started all but dragging her to a white van. Really? It took everything in her power not to snort at the cliche. But she played her part well.

"What's going on?! This isn't the way to Greenbie's." As if it wasn't what she wanted. But what she didn't want was to have the doors slide open and find two other men waiting inside. Then she began struggling in earnest. The trick was to get them to believe she was truly fighting, but not enough to knock her out.

"No! Help! Police!"

But there was no one around, Charlie had made sure of that. Unfortunately, the guys in the van were already nervous and as she got tossed into the van, one of the guys used the butt of his gun upside her forehead and everything went black, her last vision that of three other girls, and two children already in the van.

And with no way to tell Sam's actual state of health, but knowing that she was on the move by the speed of the GPS, he headed back to his building to await word and to make a few more phone calls.
 
It was a long drive.

Too long of a drive.

Not so long that it should have been a problem for him to cover it, the estimation was- what? Three hours?- and he was pushing the gas hard as his beat up old peace of crap would allow, chopping blocks off that number as quickly as they came. He wasn't really sure how much head start Celeste had though, but it was going to be enough to beat him there anyway, unless the illness really got to her bad. Her bikes put his girl to shame in more ways than show. No. He'd eaten up the first chunk of that like nothing, it was the later part that was hitting him. Kael had made rides longer than three hours. He'd walked for that long without any real breaks before, and not as amped up on adrenaline like he was now. That adrenaline bit him in the ass before long though.

Two hours in, the lack of sleep was making the continuous driving into a sweet lullaby, and it almost hurt to keep his eyes focused, darting around traffic and pulling the long stretches, looking for his turn. His body reacted well, but even that wouldn't last forever. He could pull off to the side of the road, set an alarm for twenty minutes, and the nap would give him enough to finish the trip strong. But he might well have been on borrowed time already, and if things really went sour on him who knew if the alarm would be enough to rouse him.

It was just to push on. He was going to have to find the girl and stop her before she tossed her ass on the fire again. Emptying her guts everywhere and with her memories still jumbled, there was no way she could handle something like Frostchild, even remotely. She hadn't handled it even there- she'd been half ready to crumple and wait to die at one point. Not something he'd ever done, but he was a stubborn bastard, and had his temper to help him. Of course, all it apparently took was a good "spanking" as Mei Lee would put it, to get Cel's own temper up and going again. He'd have to be there to deliver it though. And probably without throwing her over a shoulder this time. And somehow not end up at gunpoint afterward. And then... then... then he had to convince her to come back to someplace safe too. Hell if he knew how he'd talk her out of this fit of silent treatment, but he'd do it somehow. And once he did that... once he did that... there were her memories. And the test. Which one did you even start on? Or maybe he discussed getting serious first? Couldn't imagine a ring on his finger, not by a long shot. It was... utterly bizarre and beyond. But he had to take responsibility. He... he could actually settle down with her. Hell, his detachment and the arguments might have had to do with him hurting her just like how he'd been avoiding any commitment to not do to anyone. It was a lot of shit on his plate and he wasn't sure where to start except that he had to be there as something if this was happening. He knew enough to understand the chances of her aborting were slim, and two weeks in, pills were probably not an answer anymore.

If he made all of that about the kid, though, Cel would probably shut him out like...

...like... like his mind in its vain search for a simile right now.

He blinked several times, clearing fog from his eyes, though on the last they stuck, and when he forced them open something wasn't right. He suspected it had to do with the flames everywhere, the tumbling timber and stone, haunting ambient voices not so much surrounding as soaked into every inch of the air, saturating the experience. Or maybe it was the thundering charge heading toward him, headed by a figure reflecting amber shine of the fire in a hundred directions off mercurial golden armor, swathed in shadows and bold strokes his mind somehow fixated so hard on the whole of that the details didn't matter- nothing except the burning red lights under its visor.

"-f-f-F-FUCK."

He let off the gas and drifted toward what should be the side of the road before his stability could suffer more, and just in time to feel the rush of air and hear the horn of something large surging by him furiously, carving a semi into the nightmare, that fell apart like a cloud subjected to a bolt of Zeus' golden-fucking-spears, twisting to nothing. The road. It was... to his side now, and he pulled back as the bike started to tip and jar violently, still bouncing as he took up the shoulder, cursing under his breath as he settled it out and kept slow while his mind tried went into a frenzy. There wasn't much else he could do, when his hands were shaking so badly he could hardly hold himself going straight.

He wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep on the road, or if it was the most crass, blatant invasion of his waking mind yet. Either way, it wasn't good, but as he waited for after shocks, nothing came. Silence, but for the roaring wind and a distant keening wail.

Maybe that was to be expected.

"...fuck me. Fuck."

There was one upside- fear had stricken his mind into such a desperate surge of will to fight for survival, that as soon as the shaking subsided, he'd be able to keep pushing it. He'd need to. If he lost that focus and it happened again before he got there, he could be going under the wheels of the truck next time.

"...fuck."


* * * * *​


It took a little over an hour to finish the ride, and by the time he pulled into the place and slowed down to pull out the slip and start checking addresses, just a few buildings at a time until he got to the right one, the exhaustion was like a pillow being shoved over his head again. He struggled not to yawn or shut his eyes, reminding himself why he was here. Here.

He looked at it, and frowned.

Not really what he'd been expecting. But when he checked the little piece of paper again, it still said the same thing. So with a noise of frustration, he searched out a good spot to park and chain up his bike, not too far away. Of course, he was in a place he didn't know, so he had to be at least as careful as he did back home. And that meant checking the pole he found to make sure it wasn't a trick- he had grown up in Carter City. He knew that sometimes punks like the sort he'd spent too much time with liked to screw with these things, give themselves a way to lift the pole right out of the ground so they wouldn't have to worry about anything as arduous as cracking a combination lock or hacking through a chain out in plain site. He'd also made sure to get a few tiny pebbles into that lock a while ago- not big or sturdy enough to jam it up. Just above sand, so that if someone with some inhumanly sensitive ears wanted to crack it, it wouldn't be child'splay. If they could just rip or cleave the post or chain... well, he'd known enough of those, but usually the bastards had made the big time well enough to not concern themselves with rust buckets that looked as if they should have expired already, they were either rich already or only went for the big time.

Once the bike was set, he gave his head a good pounding- smacking the helmet with his palms, rattling the padded thing about his head, and jarring himself. Once it was off, his eyes got a gentler dose of that, and he stood up, tucking his hands into his pockets, and looking about. Scarred up face, a duster, and something in one of those long and narrow duffel like carriers over his shoulder, longer than a gold club should have been? No, he didn't look suspicious at all. Certainly not if he got clumsy and let the sawed off in his coat, or the metal plates on the back of his hands show too clearly.

But...

Hell, he knew she'd been to his place before, but wasn't she from rich blood? Really? What kind of guy would have her going to this place? Course, it wasn't as abandoned as it should have been. If the guy was supposed to be here... he might have missed it otherwise, but he was betting this fella outside was an eye for them. Hopefully that meant the crew was still handling business with her inside.

All he could do was act like he belonged, and go right on in.
 
And right on in to a handful of guns pointed directly at his face as soon as he entered the building. Yes, the man spotted outside was keeping watch, but he wasn't the only eyes. Human or otherwise. Usually someone entering would have been stopped before they even got inside, but there was something about this guy that made Charlie want to greet him personally. Maybe it was the face, or the duffel, or the way he walked like he had a large piece under that duster.

Whatever it was, Charlie let him at least get inside the door, so there was no unwanted eyes on the little stand off. A gruff voice behind the foremost gun pointed at the intruder spoke.

"Think you're lost, bub."

Things were a bit more on edge since they had started the operation. It was probably a good thing as well Charlie hadn't been able to watch Sam or he would have called it off as soon as she was grabbed. But after following the little dot on a screen to a location, he left two men to watch and came back to the nightclub. Then this guy showed up.

"So why don't you turn around, slowly, and walk right back on outta here."

It wasn't a question, and that little fact would be exclaimated by the click click from the hammer of a pistol being cocked.
 
Well.

That hadn't been quite what he'd expected.

Or at least, he might not have flinched at one man doing this, possibly. Maybe even two. But he certainly hadn't counted on a room full of gun, and all of it in his face. One blink, and Kael's eyes were as sharp as present levels of wearing on were going to allow, tracing about the guns and faces behind them. Though he was more interested for the most part in what was behind the men. At the moment, it didn't offer a lot to help him though. Which meant he was dealing with an old gang style standoff, bad folks in a bad part of town, and he was once more just a tough without a name on him to tell them whether to shoot him or greet him. He'd been in the situation before- he knew quite well how strays were treated. Happy he didn't have his hands in his pockets for once, he raised them a couple of inches slowly, palms outward, looking around less calmly than he would have liked to imagine, but probably a great deal more so than he should have been.

And when the one voice spoke up, he looked right at him, without turning his head more than a few degrees.

This was a pack after all. It was hard to say if he was the one calling the shots, or if he was just the biggest, baddest of them all, but one way or another the fact that he was talking while no one else made any hint of it meant this was someone important, one of the "alphas" among present company. And your options were to either avoid eye contact at all costs, or make sure not to be the first one to break it.

Kael kept his gaze steady as his hands kept slowly raising, complying nice and gradual like for them, and kept his breathing and face calm as possible. The less reason he gave them to think he was about to try something the better, regardless of whether he was or not.

"Not sure if that's a 'yes, Ms Browning's here' or a 'no, she's not'."

Hands very slowly up, feet nice and steady taking him a part of a step around at a time, two or three of those to be facing the way he'd come in again, letting his head stay half turned, looking at the guy in his peripheral, but not craning far enough to look directly at him.
 
A twitch. Barely perceptible. And a slight tilt of the head at the mention of a name.

This wasn't exactly expected either. Probably the most dangerous job he'd ever sent the girl on and some random guy that looks like walking trouble shows up looking for her by name. Could they be blown already? If so, how? Was she still alive? Wait. Of course she was or he'd have gotten a call from the men he left to watch her. Well. Watch her dot blink. If she was dead, it would stop transmitting.

But who the hell was this guy just walking in like he owned the damn place, asking for her? Lots of questions. Whether there was answers or not would remain to be seen. Charlie took a single step forward, gun now pointed at the back of Kaels head. Well, side of the head, with how his head was turned and all. The guy was fairly cool and calm, a little too much so for Charlies taste. Though he resisted the urge to just shoot him right here and now and deal with whatever he was about later.

For the time being.

"Don't know who yer talking about. Never heard of no 'Ms Browning'. Like I said; Think yer lost."
 
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