Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I making any money from the X-Men
characters. Thank you to Corrinth for the use of her character Dr. Ilehana
Xavier. I do own Blaze, and appreciate authors not using her without
asking.
A/N: Reviews always welcome!
Scene 26
The well-appointed office was lit only by the dull green glow of the computer screen. A man tapped away on the keyboard, absorbed in his work. He didn't notice the second floor window open from the outside. He only realised he was not alone when the computer's power died mid-sentence. Swearing heatedly he tried to reload the system to rescue his unsaved work, but the power was cut off at the plug socket. A sharp sound, away behind him, made the man stop fretting and begin to panic.
"Who... Whose there?"
"You don't need to know, Professor Edward Smythe-Cadding." The voice was male, American but accented. Professor Smythe-Cadding had been to New Orleans once, with his wife, her idea of course. He began to turn round to see the speaker, but a flash of light hit his beloved computer and blew it apart. Flinching as shards of glass and pieces of motherboard showered around him, Smythe-Cadding stopped moving. "That's better."
"What do you want?"
"Depends on how cooperative you are, ami. I may have a lil' job for you."
"I won't work for a thug who breaks into my office! Security will be here in a moment and..."
"I don't think so. Unless you want your wife to see the picture I has."
"What...what pictures?" "First you look at dis for me." Gambit threw a bland cardboard folder onto the desk by the smouldering computer. "Tell me what it means."
For a second or two Smythe-Cadding just stood there, breathing heavily. Then he flicked on a desk light and ran a scared finger along the flap of the folder, flipping it open. He glanced at it sideways, trying to seem non- committal as only guilty men do. Suddenly he exclaimed and sat down again with a thud.
"Where did you get this? Where was it found? This text... I have never seen runic coding so complicated!"
"Where it came from not you concern. Tell me what it says."
"Why should I? Are you some kind of tomb raider? Your kind has robbed the academic world of too many priceless treasures!"
"An' you robbed your wife of her best student. How did a worthless man like you convince a high school cheerleader to have an affair with you anyway? An' under you wife's nose..." Gambit folded his arms across his muscular chest, tapping the other folder he held against his side, a sly smile on his face. He'd find Blaze one way or another. Smythe-Cadding gulped and looked again at the papers in front of him. Blackmail. Of all the things to happen to him, why did it have to be blackmail?
"Its... It's a code, but in an ancient language lost outside the realms of ancient historic studies. I can give you a text containing the original best translation of the runes, but you will need the code wheel to truly understand what it says."
"What do you mean?" Gambit took half a step forward, but Smythe-Cadding's interest was piqued. From his desk draw he pulled out a text and a bottle of brandy. A swig from the bottle restored his nerve, the book he opened on a page containing a table of the exact same symbols as were in Blaze's notes in front of him.
"This is how each of these runes, these letters, would be translated in the modern alphabet. But the writer has used a code wheel, switching each letter for another in a specified order, an A for a T for example, to corrupt the message to the naked eye. Only a person with the right code wheel could break the code. Also, the translation will most likely be in Latin, or another ancient tongue, not in English or another modern language..." Smythe-Cadding peered further over the papers. "They would give me such acclaim for this in the world of history! You must tell me where it came from!"
"No way, ami." Gambit flicked off the lamp, snatched the folder off the desk again, and took the textbook as well. "You stay quiet on this, or your wife find out about you an' Charlene." He started back towards the window.
"But... You said if I helped you I could have those photos!" Smythe-Cadding cried out in a desperate voice.
"Non, ami. I never said that." And with that Gambit was gone, photos and all.
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Logan paced like a caged tiger below the window to Smythe-Cadding's office. What was the Cajun doing up there? No, maybe he didn't want to know. He wasn't even sure anymore why he had come on this mission of Gambit's anyway. Though it did make a change from doin' nothin' he guessed.
There was a heavy thud to his left, and the athletic Cajun was grinning besides Wolverine, arms full of papers and trench coat whirling around him. A flick of his head indicated to Logan that they get going; just as the university campus security guard came round the corner of the redbrick building. The guard was sure he'd seen some movement in the corner of his eye, but when he flashed his torch about, there was nothing.
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"T'anks for the leg-up Wolverine." Remy grinned as they sat drinking cold beer in Diego's bar later that night. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Yeah well, I hardly signed up for this thing to play sentry outside whilst you have all the fun inside. Write me in a little more next time, okay?"
"Sure thing, ami." Casually Remy flicked open the folder containing Blaze's notes, and the book he had stolen. "I used to play codes all the time when I was a kid. Shouldn't take me too long to work dis one out."
"What about the part where it's all in Latin?" Logan hated to spoil the Cajun's good mood, but he didn't seem the type to have covered the classics in school, if he'd gone to school at all.
"Maybe the Professor'll know some." Remy shrugged, supping his beer. Logan shook his head, yeah this was the biggest break on Storm and Blaze's disappearance they'd had in the months since it had happened, but the Cajun was getting ahead of himself. Wolverine decided to change the subject.
"Where'd you get these photos anyhow?" He slipped in casually, lighting his cigar. Gambit grinned, eyes narrowing.
"Why, you need to blackmail somebody Wolverine?"
"Maybe. How much does it cost?" Logan watched as Gambit leant back against the fake red leather seat of the booth and sighed up at the ceiling.
"Dis time, for Gambit... Maybe t'ree grand's worth of goods an' work over the past few years to earn a favour from my ole ami Tommy. An' I was savin' it for a rainy day too..." He shrugged and looked back at Wolverine. "Guess you can't put a price on what your friends are worth."
"I'll drink to that."
A/N: Reviews always welcome!
Scene 26
The well-appointed office was lit only by the dull green glow of the computer screen. A man tapped away on the keyboard, absorbed in his work. He didn't notice the second floor window open from the outside. He only realised he was not alone when the computer's power died mid-sentence. Swearing heatedly he tried to reload the system to rescue his unsaved work, but the power was cut off at the plug socket. A sharp sound, away behind him, made the man stop fretting and begin to panic.
"Who... Whose there?"
"You don't need to know, Professor Edward Smythe-Cadding." The voice was male, American but accented. Professor Smythe-Cadding had been to New Orleans once, with his wife, her idea of course. He began to turn round to see the speaker, but a flash of light hit his beloved computer and blew it apart. Flinching as shards of glass and pieces of motherboard showered around him, Smythe-Cadding stopped moving. "That's better."
"What do you want?"
"Depends on how cooperative you are, ami. I may have a lil' job for you."
"I won't work for a thug who breaks into my office! Security will be here in a moment and..."
"I don't think so. Unless you want your wife to see the picture I has."
"What...what pictures?" "First you look at dis for me." Gambit threw a bland cardboard folder onto the desk by the smouldering computer. "Tell me what it means."
For a second or two Smythe-Cadding just stood there, breathing heavily. Then he flicked on a desk light and ran a scared finger along the flap of the folder, flipping it open. He glanced at it sideways, trying to seem non- committal as only guilty men do. Suddenly he exclaimed and sat down again with a thud.
"Where did you get this? Where was it found? This text... I have never seen runic coding so complicated!"
"Where it came from not you concern. Tell me what it says."
"Why should I? Are you some kind of tomb raider? Your kind has robbed the academic world of too many priceless treasures!"
"An' you robbed your wife of her best student. How did a worthless man like you convince a high school cheerleader to have an affair with you anyway? An' under you wife's nose..." Gambit folded his arms across his muscular chest, tapping the other folder he held against his side, a sly smile on his face. He'd find Blaze one way or another. Smythe-Cadding gulped and looked again at the papers in front of him. Blackmail. Of all the things to happen to him, why did it have to be blackmail?
"Its... It's a code, but in an ancient language lost outside the realms of ancient historic studies. I can give you a text containing the original best translation of the runes, but you will need the code wheel to truly understand what it says."
"What do you mean?" Gambit took half a step forward, but Smythe-Cadding's interest was piqued. From his desk draw he pulled out a text and a bottle of brandy. A swig from the bottle restored his nerve, the book he opened on a page containing a table of the exact same symbols as were in Blaze's notes in front of him.
"This is how each of these runes, these letters, would be translated in the modern alphabet. But the writer has used a code wheel, switching each letter for another in a specified order, an A for a T for example, to corrupt the message to the naked eye. Only a person with the right code wheel could break the code. Also, the translation will most likely be in Latin, or another ancient tongue, not in English or another modern language..." Smythe-Cadding peered further over the papers. "They would give me such acclaim for this in the world of history! You must tell me where it came from!"
"No way, ami." Gambit flicked off the lamp, snatched the folder off the desk again, and took the textbook as well. "You stay quiet on this, or your wife find out about you an' Charlene." He started back towards the window.
"But... You said if I helped you I could have those photos!" Smythe-Cadding cried out in a desperate voice.
"Non, ami. I never said that." And with that Gambit was gone, photos and all.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Logan paced like a caged tiger below the window to Smythe-Cadding's office. What was the Cajun doing up there? No, maybe he didn't want to know. He wasn't even sure anymore why he had come on this mission of Gambit's anyway. Though it did make a change from doin' nothin' he guessed.
There was a heavy thud to his left, and the athletic Cajun was grinning besides Wolverine, arms full of papers and trench coat whirling around him. A flick of his head indicated to Logan that they get going; just as the university campus security guard came round the corner of the redbrick building. The guard was sure he'd seen some movement in the corner of his eye, but when he flashed his torch about, there was nothing.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"T'anks for the leg-up Wolverine." Remy grinned as they sat drinking cold beer in Diego's bar later that night. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Yeah well, I hardly signed up for this thing to play sentry outside whilst you have all the fun inside. Write me in a little more next time, okay?"
"Sure thing, ami." Casually Remy flicked open the folder containing Blaze's notes, and the book he had stolen. "I used to play codes all the time when I was a kid. Shouldn't take me too long to work dis one out."
"What about the part where it's all in Latin?" Logan hated to spoil the Cajun's good mood, but he didn't seem the type to have covered the classics in school, if he'd gone to school at all.
"Maybe the Professor'll know some." Remy shrugged, supping his beer. Logan shook his head, yeah this was the biggest break on Storm and Blaze's disappearance they'd had in the months since it had happened, but the Cajun was getting ahead of himself. Wolverine decided to change the subject.
"Where'd you get these photos anyhow?" He slipped in casually, lighting his cigar. Gambit grinned, eyes narrowing.
"Why, you need to blackmail somebody Wolverine?"
"Maybe. How much does it cost?" Logan watched as Gambit leant back against the fake red leather seat of the booth and sighed up at the ceiling.
"Dis time, for Gambit... Maybe t'ree grand's worth of goods an' work over the past few years to earn a favour from my ole ami Tommy. An' I was savin' it for a rainy day too..." He shrugged and looked back at Wolverine. "Guess you can't put a price on what your friends are worth."
"I'll drink to that."