Jesus Walks
Summary: AU. They are untouchable, impenetrable, enigmatic, and possess a certain flair for dramatics. They are Les Renards, and they are the most dangerous and effective criminal team in the world.
Les Renards
The Boss
Erik
Brilliant in almost every field imaginable, occassionally charming, more often then not held captive by his shockingly short temper, the elusive billionaire known only by his first name is the un-disputed and infamous mastermind behind Les Renards. Deformed since birth, he is never seen without his trademark white mask, which covers the entire left side of his face.
The Pretty Face
Molly "Roulette" Banks.
When her father, Ezekiel, a minor player in the New York crime scene, was murdered in front of her at the age of eleven, she became Erik's ward. Now twenty, and a budding photographer, Roulette is fiercely loyal, desperate for Erik's attention, and consistantly underestimated by her colleagues. Her nickname sparks from a comment made on her first job; Having a conversation with her is like playing Russian Roulette.
The Moral Techie
Nadir Khan
A former Persian daroga, who knew Erik when he was a spy for the Persian government. Erik's one and only trusted confidante, and the voice of his often dormant conscience. Quietly mourns the loss of his assasinated wife, Rookheeya, and is constantly on the look out for information on his son, Reza, who escaped from Persia and vanished six years ago. Dotes on Roulette, and mediates the frequent arguments between her and Erik.
The Outsider
Christine Daae
An angelic voiced graduate student who hires Les Renards to find her missing father, a controversial UN ambasador.
The Villan(s)
Carlotta Guidicelle & Ubaldo Piangi
Infamous Italian crime boss, Carlotta, and her sidekick husband, Ubaldo, want Les Renards dead, and they'll stop at nothing to get their way.
The Love Interest
Raoul de Chagney
Christine's childhood sweetheart and a wealthy diplomat from a powerful family, who may or may not have something to do with the dissapearance of her father.
- - -
the game? begins now
"Khan, get up, you've got company."
The gaurd tapped impatiently on the cell bars and waited as the dark skinned man who'd been reclining comfortably in his cell to get to his feet. He was a strange duck, this Khan fellow, the gaurd thought, as he buzzed open the cell door and cuffed him. Supposedly, he was one of the most powerful men in the world-- responsible for some of the most dazzling and bewildering crimes of the century---and yet, he didn't seem like the kind of man who would recieve a speeding ticket, much less persue a life of crime. Quiet, polite, and with an almost courtly british-persian accent, the only request he'd made in his month long stay at the minimum security prison in New Haven was that he be allowed out into the courtyard at five different intervals during the day, so that he could pray.
All in all, Nadir Khan was an ideal prisoner.
"You're sister's a pretty gal." Remarked the gaurd as he trailed Khan down the hallway. "Doesn't look much like you though, does she?" He missed the faint smile that grazed the inmates lips at his observation. "No, you are quite right." He conceeded pleasently. They arrived at the visitors room, which was empty---not a rarity on a monday morning. Perched on one of the yellow plastic tables that would have looked more at home in a third grade classroom, was a strikingly beautiful young woman, her raven colored hair bobbed and sleek, giving her the appearance of a 20's flapper. She was dressed in a simple black t-shirt that probably cost more than the gaurd made in a year, a short, tight black mini-skirt that danced on the fine line between slutty and sexy, and the kind of high-heels that very few woman could walk in sucessfully. Big, expensive, Jackie-O sunglasses completed the ensemble. He wondered what kind of woman dressed like that to come to a prison. Either she was silly, or deliberately cruel.
The prisioner looked slightly amused at the sight, which the gaurd thought was odd. "Rhada, darling." The woman got to her feet, and smiled toothily. "Brother dear." She replied in the same quasi-british accent as her sibling. Nadir hugged her and kissed her cheek, and they took a seat at the table. The gaurd assumed his position, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. He hated to intrude on a family reunion.
As soon as they took their seats, the Khan siblings switched from English to French, and began speaking rapidly and in falsely cheerful tones. The gaurd frowned. There was something about this situation that seemed more then a little..off to him. Their conversation was growing less and less polite---the woman, in particular, was becoming visibly agitated, and Khan seemed to be trying to calm her down. "Roulette, pas maintainent. Je pense que ce ne pas le meuillure choix-" He was saying in a low undertone, shooting the gaurd a wary look that alerted him to the fact that something was definitley wrong. She glowered at her brothers obvious rebuke; "Est-que tu est rigole? C'est parfait, Nadir, donne-moi un peu de confiance, s'il vous plait. Je sais quoi je ferai." She said in a reassuring tone, and got abruptly to her feet. "Pardonnez-moi," She said sweetly to the gaurd, and it was the last thing he would remember, for a second later he was little more than an unconcious pile on the ground. He hadn't even had the time (or the foresight) to call for backup on his walkie-talkie.
"Rhada" sighed and stooped down to pull the key ring from his belt loop. She tossed it to Nadir Khan, who caught it easily and carefully removed the cuffs from his wrists, rubbing at the places where his skin had been rubbed raw. "Such a waste. Those were some of my best moves." She remarked idly, the faux british accent replaced by her normal voice, a languid southern drawl, and yanked on her dark hair, pulling off the wig and shaking her long dark blonde hair free. Nadir rolled his eyes. "Your best moves, Roulette? Really. You dissapoint me. I was expecting something infinitely more interesting."
His female companion scowled and stalked towards the door. "Yeah, well, I was working on a tight schedule." She said grumpily. He shook his head and followed her footsteps, "I assume you have a plan?" Roulette checked her watch impatiently and cracked her gum, "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She muttured. "The way you and Erik talk, you'd think I was some kind of colossal screw up."
"Of course not. What could have possibly given me that idea?" He asked, his sarcasm plain. Roulette sneered at the jibe. "Oh, ha-ha. One month in prison and you're a stand-up comedian. I feel so fortunate."
"Where are--" He began, but Roulette, who'se gaze had not left her watch, held up a hand to quiet him. "Shush. We walk out of here in one, two, three, aaaand--" as if on cue, the lights went out, plunging them into the dark. He heard Roulette's triumphant laugh. "--BINGO. I told Erik that would work." She mumbled, and he felt her hand close around his wrist a second later, dragging him sideways.
"Roulette--" He began, but his partner cut him off. "Calm down, Nadir. I've got this one under control." Nadir couldn't help it; at the familiar exultation, he smiled, even if he knew it wasn't true.
--
Twenty minutes and one hi-jacked vehicle later, they were speeding down a bumpy country road, and Roulette was grumbling to herself, trying to stifle her bleeding nose.
"And you thought of that plan all by yourself, did you?" Teased Nadir, which earned him another scowl from the drivers side of the car. "You know what? It's not my fault that you got stuck in some crap little jail in South Bumfuck, USA, Nadir. It's also not my fault that someone-" The evil look in her eye made it very clear that Someone was going to get an earful from her the next time she saw him, "-gave me faulty information about the electrical layout of that place, and that-" Nadir leaned back in his seat and let her rant for a few minutes.
He waited until she fell silent, finally stopping to catch her breath before he spoke again. "Still, I thought that was a very classy move, headbutting the gaurd like that. And then, of course, jumping out the window when we were cornered was pretty inventive. Did I mention the generator kicking in after that thirty second blackout?" Roulette's scowl deepened. "Only about six times."
There was a brief pause, "But I did get us out." She pointed out unnecessarily, her tone sulky. Nadir nodded. "That you did. If it's one thing I have complete confidence in, it is your ability to improvise your way out of any situation," Roulette smiled triumphantly. "no matter how badly you manage to screw things up." He added, and she giggled. She knew it was true. She was a walking disaster when it came to planning and executing escapes, but she was a competent walking disaster, and she always managed.
"Sorry it took so long." Nadir shut his eyes and tried to make himself comfortable. Roulette was driving like the devil was chasing them, but even with her...creative driving skills, it was still going to be a long, if colorful, drive to the airport. "But you seriously would not believe how long it took to get you a new passport---it's tough finding someone to make them for us that the feds don't know about anymore. I keep telling Erik we should just put someone on the payroll that can do it for us so we don't have to go through all the red-tape, but of course he never actually listens to what I say anymore--" She trailed off, shaking her head. It was an old argument, with a hurt that went deeper than Roulette would ever admit.
"And, of course, Erik didn't have much of a moral delimma with letting me cool my heels in prison for a bit, did he?" Roulette set her jaw and said nothing. Nadir opened his eyes and looked at her squarely. "How angry is he?"
"He's Erik. He's always angry about something." She responded evasively, and when Nadir didn't look away she relented. "He's not that upset. Not anymore, anyway." She added honestly and Nadir sighed. "I had hoped that my taking the fall for him would take the edge off of most of his anger." Roulette looked sorrowful. "It did. I still can't you believe you did that for him--for both of us." There was an edge, a tremor in his voice that instantly made Nadir remember why exactly he'd missed Roulette so much during the past month. She was, in many respects, still a child, and sometimes he could look at her and see the little girl she must have been once, before her father's death had robbed her of her chance at innocence.
"If one of us has to go down, I would prefer for it to be me." Nadir said quietly, and Roulette grinned raggedly at him, blinking back the emotion from her eyes. She reached across the console and gripped his hand tightly. "I've missed you, Nadir. There's been no one around to tell me my skirts are too short." He laughed and she released his hand, reaching over to fiddle with the radio.
"Where is Erik?" He had to admit, he was surprised that Erik had left Roulette up to her own devices on this one--usually, he was more wary of her magnet like attraction towarsd destruction. "Amsterdam." She replied after a moment, settling on a Top Forty Countdown and checking her still bleeding nose in the rear-view mirror. "Damn, I hope this isn't broken." She muttered, making a sharp left onto the main road.
"Whats in Amsterdam?" He asked curiously, and Roulette rolled her eyes. "Some big party, for that one charity Erik always donates money to. I think they're giving him an award. Or something." She added vaguely, gunning the accelerator and cutting off a beat-up looking pick-up truck smoothly. The pick-up truck honked it's irritation, which made Roulette smirk.
Nadir rolled his eyes. "Your attention to details is remarkable, Rue." He made no remark of her pleasure at being reckless, which seemed to have grown since the last time he'd seen her and which worried him greatly. Roulette sighed and merged seamlessly into traffic---thankfully, without any incident.
"Whatever. Erik said it was a good idea to get you out of the states for a while. You know--for things to cool down." Nadir nodded, and a sudden cloud descended on the cloud. The unspoken dilemma that had almost exposed Les Renards and ruined everything they'd worked for looming heavily between them.
"Roulette-" He began, but Roulette cut him off. "She's dead." She informed him flatly, guessing what his question would be. He could see she was forcing her voice to remain devoid of any emotion. He was surprised this news didn't hurt more. "I figured as much. How?" The revelation that Nadir's girlfriend, Bianca, a woman they had befriended and trusted, a woman that Nadir had been in love with, and that Roulette had considered a friend, had sold them out to the Gudicelle's had been a severe blow. Not nearly as severe as when the Gudicelle's, infuriated with the fact that Les Renards had escaped (again) from right under their noses, took what information Bianca had given them to the FBI. Erik and Roulette had been all set to run, but Nadir knew that if they ran, they would never be able to out-run their notoriety--it was easier if one of them took the blame for the whole deal. And as it had been his inability to spot Bianca's treacherous personality that had brought them here, he'd had no problem taking responsibility for the (numerous) crimes they were charged with.
It took longer for Roulette to respond this time, and now she was visibly biting back her rage. "Not by me---but only because her own team beat me to it." She said agressively, making it plain that she would have had no problem with killing her former friend. "The bitch had served her purpose, I guess, and she hadn't exactly done what was expected of her so--" She shrugged, and shook her head. She caught sight of Nadir's tortured expression and her tone softened instantly. "Nadir..this isn't your fault. She fooled all of us." He nodded, "I know." He said quietly, and Roulette glanced over at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Nadir. Look--we won't talk about it anymore, OK?"
"It's all right, Rue. I'm fine."
He had noticed it had started to rain until Roulette flipped on the windshield wipers. "I guess this just proves what we've said all along," She said carefully. "Which is..what?"
She glaned over at him and smiled. "That we---the three of us---are a team, and we don't need any additions. It only fucks things up."
He chuckled. "Which implies that things weren't fucked up to begin with." Roulette shook her head and smiled. "Oh! I should call Erik." She picked up the cell phone resting in the center console and flipped it open. Nadir sighed. "He hates when you do that."
The younger girl wiggled her eyebrows mischeviously. "Of course he does, why do you think I do it?"
"Remember the talk we had about you being an antagonist, Rue?" He warned, and Roulette clucked her tounge irritably at his lecture. "It's just a precaution." She said mildly, and Nadir frowned. "A precaution?"
Roulette's eyes softened imperceptibly. "I just...don't want him to forget about me." Nadir couldn't think of a response to that, so he simply sat in silence while Roulette waited for Erik to pick up. "Damnitt, he sent me to his voicemail. He does that just to bother me, you know." She trailed off, grumbling under her breath, and punched in the four digit code to Erik's voicemail box that was required if you wanted to leave him a message.
"Hi, Erik. It's Rue. The plan got a little screwed up---and, uh, Nadir's back in prison and I'm being sent to Attica. This was my one phone call, so please call a good lawyer! OK, thanks! Bye!"
She hung up, looking slightly more cheery, and tried to look innocent in the face of Nadir's expression. "He's going to have a coronary when he hears that." Nadir warned. Roulette looked blissed out at the thought.
"Should make for an interesting reunion, don't you think?"
"Everything you do makes for interesting consequences."
She smiled impishly at him for a second, before a BMW pulled out abruptly in front of her, and she nearly ran into his tail end, thus forcing her to lay on her horn for a good thirty seconds, and give the driver the finger. Nadir chuckled to himself. Escape attempts, stupid wigs, and biting sarcasm aside, it took a near head on collision on the freeway for him to realize just how much he'd missed this stupid, dangerous, beautiful criminal life of his.
-
Not now, Roulette. I just don't think this is the best plan--
Are you crazy, Nadir? It's PERFECT. Have a little confidence in me, please? I know what I'm doing.
(yay for my french-ie skills!)
And so ends the first chapter of what is slowly becoming my baby. Seriously. This story is very near and dear to my heart for many reasons. Mainly because I just think the plot-line is cool.
Just to answer the question I'm sure I will recieve; Is Roulette a Mary-Sue? Well, yes. I suppose so. But hopefully, she's a well-written, well-developed Mary-Sue, whom you will all grow to love and care about and occasionally want to throttle, just like you would any other character. This is my HOPE.
Don't worry---Erik will be in the next chapter. I promise. Christine will come a little later on.
I'm not making any promises about when I'll update---I' m very busy with college applications and not failing AP French Lit. right now, so cut me some slack, please?
I welcome any ideas, comments, criticisms, etc. Love my story? Hate my story? Let me know. I'd love to hear from you. Yes, I am pimping for feedback. Why? Because I HAVE NO SHAME, yey.
:o)
Preview for the next Chapter.
Nadir and Roulette meet up with Erik at their hotel in Amsterdam. Erik and Roulette bicker childishly, then they go to a very fancy benefit, where Roulette proceeds to get very drunk, and argues (loudly and drunkenly) with her ex-boyfriend. Erik tries to secretly push him off a building. Roulette and Erik bicker some more, and Roulette complains that he "still thinks I'm eleven year old girl trapped in a ten year old boys body." In case you were wondering; no, he doesn't.
Nadir mediates and tries not to have a nervous breakdown and keep them from getting arrested. He also preuses their latest clientele. One person in particular, a girl named Christine Daae, seems to pique Erik's interest...
DUN DUN DUN.
Erik: You're flair for melodrama is so passe.
Authoress: Hey, you have to be nice to me! I'M THE AUTHOR.
Erik: Cheah. Whatever.
Raoul: I RESPECT YOU.
Authoress: Hon, it doesn't matter. I still think you're a goob.
Nadir: is slightly hurt Oh..
Authoress: Anyway. Review, please! 3