Conflict of Interests
After the Brotherhood falls apart, Toad finds himself in need of repaying a debt.
Prologue
"It'll be easy, just take her home," The man in glasses—who called himself "Jim"—adjusted himself to the booth's near-destroyed seat, "And she'll make the debt go away." He played with the straw in his drink, sliding over a folder with a picture paper-clipped to the front of it.
The picture was a girl, young (maybe 16), in a school uniform—a gray plaid skirt and a white blouse. Her eyes were light-colored, and her hair was a dark shade of brown, cut in a short bob.
"What's the catch?" Toad leaned back, looking at the file as though it might bite him. He wasn't touching the damn thing until he knew the whole story. He fixed his hood as a pretty waitress wandered by. Being out in public in broad daylight made him antsy.
"A few years ago, the family did you some kind of favor?" Jim asked. Toad nodded, so he continued, "The family seems to have 'misplaced' her, since you last saw them. Instead of giving them some other kind of compensation, they feel that if you bring her home, it'll be enough to cover it."
"How did they 'misplace' a teenager?" Toad remarked.
"The same way every parent does," Jim smirked, "Anyway, she was last seen in District X, in Manhattan. Have you heard of it?"
The only place he could go as a mutant and not get the shit kicked out of him, why yes, he had heard of it, "Why would she head off to Mutant Town?"
"Granted, she's young, but she is very capable of getting from Massachusetts to New York," Jim replied, "And she's been doing this for a year now. Every time we get close to her she vanishes. We need someone like you to track her down."
"A murderer?"
"A mutant. Someone inconspicuous."
Toad snorted when he heard that, "If it gets the family off my back, then yeah. I'll do it."
District X had a mind of it's own. It was proof that the city of New York was a living, breathing creature with no regard for the rest of the world and the will of the people bent the city to their image. Though others were walking around freely (a girl with purple skin and forehead ridges was a welcome sight out in the open), Toad kept his hood up and his head down. It may have been Mutant Town, but he was still a wanted criminal.
He had the file for the girl in his back pack. Her name was Brenna—but may have been going under an assumed identity, she was drawn to artists and musicians, had a knack for hide-and-seek, and there was a note in the file that said that if he gave any indication to knowing her or her family, she would run for it. So his plan was to get friendly and maybe trick her. No really, that was all he had at the time.
Jim was sure to give him pointers as to how to trick her, but it seemed...unusual. Why put so much effort into this girl if they were just going to send someone else to do the dirty work?
He wanted to take a day or so to start searching, but knew that if he waited too long she would have moved on. What still perplexed him was that if she was a mutant, and realistically it was possible—why else go to Mutant Town—why did they want her back so badly? Her parents, the family that saved him, were definitely human and okay with mutants—at least as pawns.
He figured it would be best to get something to eat for the time being. He found a decent looking diner on the main road and hoped he could come up with a better plan.
"What can I get you?" A lady with no outward mutations asked.
"Coffee," He sighed, "Black." He placed his bag next to him and rubbed his face. It had been a long night and an equally long morning. Pulling out the file, he ignored the waitress as she poured his coffee.
Looking through pictures, which appeared to be security footage from various stores, he drew no conclusion as to what she would look like now. He didn't even remember what she looked like a few years ago.
"I know who you are," A voice startled him. He looked up from his work, attempting to look the least bit surprised.
"Can I help you—" But he stopped short. Sitting in front of him was a girl. Her hair was shock white and she was thin as a rail. Her eyes were silvery-gray.
"Remain calm," She stared into his eyes, "I know who you are and why you're here."
"This is bloody ridiculous—"
However, underneath the table, there was a clicking noise. The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking.
He was at her mercy.