Title/Prompt: Seek
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word count: 1716
Summary: "I don't like carrying guns. I prefer other methods of assurance and protection. Do you understand?"
Notes: A brief exploration into Plunder and Bleak's first meeting. Very brief. But very fun to write.
Plunder was early.
The restaurant was dark and quiet, in a little side street carrying only foot traffic. A few of the tables by the front windows were taken up by couples gazing out at the rainy afternoon, lamenting about the poor weather as they sipped coffee or twirled pasta onto their forks.
Plunder had specifically taken a seat at the back, facing the front of the restaurant. He had asked for black coffee and a tall glass of iced water, and he alternated between the two as he sat watching the door.
Beneath his jacket, nestled against his ribs, a snub nose revolver sat snugly in a leather holster.
Necessary.
All the same, he didn't like it being there.
And so he had arranged a meeting.
It was odd, the position he had found himself in. Everything he had done was perfectly legal – in a sense. And yet there were people – quite insane people – who were suddenly after him, determined to bring him down, with his new empire crashing on top of him.
He cleared his throat quietly and took another sip of water as he thought about the events which had led him to this meeting.
There was a loophole in the law. It was as simple as that, really. Plunder had discovered it and used it to his advantage. He'd already logged half the forest before anyone kicked up a fuss about it, and even then he'd had the papers to declare he was allowed to be there.
Still. Plunder had discovered environmental protesters rarely listened to reason, and he had quickly summoned up an extreme dislike of them. Valuable machinery had been damaged, and while he couldn't prove it, he was certain the greenies had something to do with it. Not to mention the personal threats he had received.
He felt the gun like a hundred pound weight against his chest.
Yes, protection was necessary. Plunder's logging company may have been perfectly legal when looked at from an administrative perspective, but his intentions didn't necessarily match the projections.
Plunder needed loyalty. Someone who didn't ask questions and someone who would take his word as gospel without letting morals (or laws) get in the way.
But how did you seek such a person? There wasn't exactly a henchman's classifieds.
Plunder had dug deep. He'd looked into the records of security firms and bodyguard academies. He'd visited dingy, dirty little clubs where men fought bare-knuckled and bloody, spitting their teeth to the ground before they went back for another swing.
He'd discovered crooked cops, ex-cons, violent men with timid wives and a huge underground market for weapons-free assassins.
But it was the military which had finally given him something he thought he could use. Records of those dishonourably discharged for bad conduct.
He'd spent the past six months tailing three separate men, observing them and keeping mental notes on each of them until he'd ordered them into most suited to least. It was still a close call, but Plunder hoped his number one choice would accept his offer.
He had no notes in front of him (paper only left a trail for the authorities to follow), but Plunder thought carefully about his choice as he waited for his contact to show up.
Argos Bleak.
6'8", heavy with muscle and quietly observant, Bleak appeared to be perfect for the role Plunder intended him for. He had left a message, purposely vague and intriguing, instructing Bleak to meet him. Whether or not he showed up was out of Plunder's control.
Plunder waited patiently, sipping at his water and watching the door.
When Bleak arrived, the other diners looked up before immediately averting their attention. Plunder was amused by this, and rather pleased. People were so adverse to danger they thought ignoring it would keep them safe.
Bleak did look dangerous – but perfectly sane. This was a combination Plunder liked.
Bleak spotted him and walked slowly towards him, eyeing him curiously. He had a heavy leather jacket on, which still ran and glittered with beads of rain, and jeans and black fingerless gloves. Heavy black boots made quiet thuds against the floorboards with every step he took.
"You Plunder?"
Plunder nodded and Bleak sank into the seat opposite him. He took out a cigarette and lit it, holding it low down on his fingers, between his knuckles. He blew a stream of smoke out the side of his mouth and leaned back in his chair.
"You've been following me," he said.
Plunder nodded. "Briefly."
Bleak smirked and took another drag on his cigarette. "Thought you were a cop for a while."
Plunder chuckled and tented his fingers. "Would that worry you?"
"I got nothin' I need to worry about," Bleak answered, flicking ash into Plunder's empty coffee cup. "Still want to know why you been tailin' me."
"I am the subject of some – unwanted attention," Plunder said, pausing only slightly. "My line of work has given me some rather unfortunate publicity."
"What's that then?" Bleak asked.
"It's all perfectly legal," Plunder answered with a thin smile. "Logging. Though it's certainly not the be all and end all of my operations. Just something to plump up my bank accounts."
Bleak didn't appear too interested. He dragged on his cigarette again with slightly narrowed eyes. "I'm not a logger," he said quietly.
"No," Plunder agreed. "You're not."
"So what does a guy who owns a logging company want with me?"
Plunder didn't appreciate this game, but he let it slide. He knew Bleak had a vague idea of why he was there. Constant questioning and intimidation techniques wouldn't fly once he became Plunder's employee, but Plunder figured he simply didn't want to get himself involved in something that wasn't completely clear.
Plunder completely understood.
He leaned forward, intent on putting Bleak's suspicions to rest. "I'm after someone who can watch my back for me while I have it turned," he said. "I'm more interested in watching my profits than I am in watching idiot green-minded eco-freaks creeping up on me."
"You want a bodyguard," Bleak finished for him.
Plunder deliberately paused and then smiled. "Not exactly. Technically, I suppose. Though watching my back isn't all you'd be doing. You'd have a hands-on role within the company."
"Doing all your dirty work," Bleak smirked. He didn't sound very tempted.
"Listen," Plunder said impatiently, "You come to work with me tomorrow. You see off any trespassers, you oversee my men and listen in on their thoughts and concerns. You report everything back to me. You keep an eye on my surveillance monitors. You only answer to my authority, do you understand?"
Bleak suddenly looked interested, but he stayed silent. He took a final drag on his cigarette and dropped it into the dregs of Plunder's coffee.
Plunder continued. "You'll be paid in cash," he said, "and accommodation. Wherever I go, you go. Your main priority is to keep your ear to the ground and make sure I'm not in for some nasty surprises. If I need someone shown off my property, you're the person who will escort them away." He raised one eyebrow carefully. "And you will make sure they understand they are not to come back."
Bleak shifted carefully in his seat. His leather jacket creaked. "I'm not interested in goin' to jail," he said after a moment.
Plunder chuckled. "Nor am I. I am extremely careful, Mr. Bleak. I do not make mistakes. I do not move ahead without ensuring I have several exits. I expect you to follow the same philosophy, should you choose to come and work for me."
Bleak passed a hand over his shaved head. "How'd you find me?" he asked after a moment.
"Your military records. Another reason I am so interested in having you work for me. You're trained in unarmed combat, yes?"
Bleak gave a curt nod.
Plunder leaned forward again, keeping his voice soft. "I don't like carrying guns," he said. "They bring too much risk with them. I prefer other methods of assurance and protection. Do you understand?"
Bleak's eyes were dark and steely. "Perfectly, Mr. Plunder."
Plunder smiled. "Excellent." He leaned back in his chair and regarded Bleak carefully. "I'm seeking someone who asks no questions and needs minimal supervision," he said quietly. "I'm seeking someone with no moral complications or hesitations when it comes to dealing with people who cause me headaches. I'm seeking someone who will hold my word as truth. I believe you can fit this role, Mr. Bleak."
Bleak gave another nod.
"Should you get yourself into any trouble with any of this, or should the authorities find you because you have made a careless mistake, do not expect me to help you."
Bleak grunted. "I don't make mistakes."
"Good," Plunder answered quietly. "Then we have a deal?"
Bleak cast his eyes around the restaurant and shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Give me a week's trial. If it don't work out I take my money and we never see each other again. I don't want to commit to something without understanding what it is."
"Fair enough," Plunder replied. He was annoyed, but he understood. He wouldn't commit to something so vague, either. It wasn't his fault the job description was vague. He wasn't entirely sure how to put Bleak's role into words.
But he had a feeling that Bleak was the right man for the job. He was violent and dangerous, but careful and calculating. He was quiet and observant, but gave off a vibe of danger and cruelty. Plunder liked all these combinations immensely.
"We'll start today," Plunder said. "Are you ready?"
Bleak nodded. "Ready, Mr. Plunder."
Plunder stood and tossed a couple of notes onto the table to cover his minuscule bill.
Bleak followed him silently from the restaurant. Plunder gave a short nod as they entered the rain. This felt right. This felt safe, and comfortable.
He chuckled to himself as he and Bleak walked towards Plunder's car.
Protection was necessary, and this sort of protection allowed Plunder a certain freedom and confidence that did not come with guns. Loyalty was the sort of protection that a select few were able to enjoy, and Plunder had finally joined their ranks.
Nothing would stop him now.
