Gambling Time: Chapter Three
Taking a sip of my coffee, I allowed myself another long look at the address I was sent. Unsurprisingly, it was a large abandoned and nondescript building. The docks seemed littered with such edifices. Something I'd utilized myself in the past back home. They were convenient, if not more than a little cliche. However, since coming to Brockton Bay, I'd personally just as soon be rid of using them than see the forlorn… weight that seemed have such a hold on Danny whenever the subject came up. That look spoke far more to the history here than the sad appearance of the building itself.
No old signs answered the mystery of whom it once belonged to, or what it had been used for in the past. As I looked over it, I couldn't help but compare it, and the other buildings nearby to the bald cypress trees of home.
But really, if one thought about it, there really wasn't much difference between Danny's docks, and my bayou. Abandoned buildings instead of great weeping cypress trees, cracked and broken asphalt instead of water, while stray litter and creep weeds took the place of spanish moss. Here, the gators just looked different, and walked on two legs. That didn't make them less dangerous. Just the opposite.
That was fine. I knew how to handle gators. Both real ones, and those found here. Hopefully this wouldn't be something I'd have to deal with today. I'd rather have this be what it looked like; a job offer, and I had to admit I was rather curious what kind of work would come from these two.
Sipping my cooling coffee again, I continued taking in the area. Instead of all the trademarks which was associated with the bayou, the building sported faded paint, broken and boarded up windows, and more than a few spray painted markings. Which, to me, read like a timeline of who had once controlled this area, and when.
The front offered a set of double doors. Unlocked, I found, when I tried it. The message didn't offer instructions when I arrived, but I figured I was expected, so walked in.
An empty room greeted me, but I didn't let that fool me into thinking I had the wrong location. The room might have once been a reception area, or something, but years of neglect stained everything, making me wonder if anyone had ever entered this place since it closed. But a knowing eye could see the differences between this place and true abandonment. Differing layers of dust. A series of smudges leading to an open doorway. The lightest scent of… Tang?
Yeah, that was Tang. Seriously, someone other than Crackhead Johny actually drinks that stuff?
Following these signs led me through a series of more rooms. Silent at first, but eventually the sounds of two people arguing reached me. Not the angry shouts associated with robbery or other ill intent, but the slightly heated words sometimes shared between friends in disagreement.
"She'll never go for it."
"Dude, if anyone in this city can appreciate this stunt, it's Gambit."
"Dunno, man. Sounds like she's going legit."
"Gambit's the last cape to go legit. Lung will sell out before Gambit does."
"She was seen going into, and then leaving the PRT building. Looks pretty legit to me."
"That's her whole shtick! Seriously man, she play's the indi rogue while skirting just under the radar. Dude, Google her; she's practically infamous in New Orleans for that shit. Always suspected, but never caught, and some of the shit she's suspected of is next level shit."
"That's my point. Even if you're right, you want her to drive. There's nothing low profile in that shit!"
"We need another two wheelmen."
"We got mooks."
"Dude, those guys suck even for basic shit. Well, except the docks guys looking for extra work, but there's no way we're going to get any of them after Lung and Oni Lee melted and blew up Wayland street. Not until they're done with clean up anyway. Remember the last time we tried recruiting when they had stuff goin'?"
"...yeah."
"Right, my point exactly. Okay, yeah, we could use some of the others but do you want this skit to be so… vanilla?"
Pausing by the doorway, I put my back to the wall. The second voice sighed.
When nothing followed, the first continued. "We need someone with skillz. Yeah, we could pull this off with just one more, but you know it won't be right with just us. Even with a couple of mooks to take up the other two cars."
"Maybe man, but this won't work at all if we tip our hands and the PRT is ready for us. What if she's not running a scam and really has changed sides? It's happened before."
"I'm telling you man, Gambit is not going to legit."
"You don't know that. You might be a thinker, but you're not Tattletale, dude. Besides, you heard what Preston said; we don't have a lot of time. We're only going to get one shot at this. There's no way we can make this happen if the PRT gets tipped off. We're too stretched as it is and it's going to take a miracle if we can even get half the shit we need by when we need it."
"That's why we need her help."
"Man, you need to stop thinking with your dick. Get your mind off her ass and back in the game. This is so stupid, we should pack everything up and forget about this whole thing."
"This is NOT stupid!"
Not the most auspicious start, but it wasn't like I could have expected better. I knew going in the question of exactly whose side I was on could possibly cost me rep. That was always the issue when you danced on the line. In the end I figured I could talk my way through it, like I always had, and those who wouldn't listen, I didn't need to do business with anyway. Besides, it wasn't like I couldn't go it alone if I had to. Still, one of them messaged me to meet, so maybe I could turn this around?
The sounds of arguing turned into a scuffle. When it didn't taper off after a few moments, I walked around the corner and through the door the ruckus was coming from.
Two bodies rolled around on the floor. The first, a white guy with dirty blond hair. His blue t-shirt and jeans just tight enough to show off a well proportioned and maintained physique. Without the over advertising some guys thought was needed to catch a girls eye. By contrast, his opponent was neither fair skinned nor loaded with physical advantages. Dusky skin showed around a rumbled matching t-shirt revealing a wiry; undeveloped frame, obviously lacking the muscle to overcome his counterpart. Unfortunately, also unskilled judging by his cursing and the chuckles from the first.
Still, neither were hard on the eyes from what I could see through the duel human pretzel before me. And two decent looking guys were rolling around, getting sweaty and wrestling for my personal pleasure. I could think of worse ways to spend my morning.
Sadly, the show ended moments after I leaned against the wall to watch just how far it would go.
"Ah, dude?" the white guy half asked.
"Bonjour," I couldn't help answering.
"Of course she walks in right now," Leet sighed.
"What's she doing?" Uber asked, amusement clear in his voice.
"She's freaking watching us! What do you think she was doing?" Leet replied before quickly continuing. "You know what, no, don't answer that. I really don't want to know what you think she's doing. Especially when your ass is practically in my face! Get off me, man!"
"Hey, ah, Gambit?" Uber asked, not moving or releasing Leet from the lock he was in. Despite his struggles.
"You texted you wanted to meet." I said, holding up my cell knowing Uber couldn't see it. "I'm not sure which answer I would actually prefer right now but, was this for business or… something more personal?"
Chuckling, he asked, "mind turning around for a sec? You know, so we can get decent and talk about it?"
"Awe," I muttered, complying while trying to hold back my chuckle at their situation. "Very well, but so you know, I was rather enjoying the show."
Shuffles, a thud, and a few choice curses sounded behind me. While they were getting up and masked, I took in the room..
It was similar to crash pads I'd seen and used before, with a few notable differences. A couple of futons, empty soda and beer cans interspaced with take out bags and boxes were common enough in such places. The various bits of half finished mechanical contraptions, not so much. Probably one of their safe houses, and one not used much as most of what I presumed to be tinker gadgets looked recently moved around. A huge corkboard littered with notes, a bunch of pictures of the inside of Brockton Bay's biggest Mall, and marked street maps, also looked slightly out of place. Like they'd only been here a few days and couldn't resist plotting. That by itself wasn't strange, but in the middle of the whole thing was a picture of what looked like a pre-teen guy, and an address for...
"Brockton Memorial?"
Thankfully the duo were still arguing in whispers. Nothing I could make out, but by the tone, it was a continuation of the argument I overheard a moment ago, which means they didn't hear my own whisper. Eventually one of them sighed.
"Alright, Gambit."
Turning around showed the top halves of their faces covered in simple black masks. Uber was smirking, obviously finding humor in how things were going so far. Leet on the other hand, wasn't.
"Since the show's over, and neither of you are naked, I assume strait to business?"
"Why," Uber asked. "Into that kind of thing? I can strip down real quick."
Leet facepalmed, groaning. Taking the lid off my coffee cup, I hit it with a touch of my power. Instantly the remaining coffee started rolling sending a visible cloud of steam upward.
"Was that why you texted me to come here?" I asked nonchalantly, sipping the now reheated coffee.
"Not really," Uber chuckled. "Got a job offer, if you're interested. And there was this other thing…"
"Dude," Leet hissed.
"That's alright."
With both of their attention on me, I shrugged. "I'm an unknown. Makes sense you'd want to keep things close, just in case. What kind of job?"
"Supplies," Uber answered, frowning at his friend.
"High end, or common?"
"Mostly common stuff, though there's a few on the list that might be difficult to get in the quantities we need."
That fit with my first thoughts when I got the text. "Time frame?"
"We need everything by tomorrow night," Leet answered.
"Dude, you said we'd be alright if we had everything by Thursday…"
"You mentioned a list," I interrupted again. "It would help to know what you expect me to acquire."
Uber walked over the to table I noted earlier. He handed me the list a moment later once he rejoined us.
It was a sizable list and, yeah, two sided. Looking through it, and noting the quantities, I noted that this was about three or four trucks worth of inventory. Which meant possible transportation and storage issues. Really, this was a pretty impossible list for one person by tomorrow night. Even Jess couldn't pull it off.
"Twenty." At the blank stares directed at me I clarified. "If you want all of this by tomorrow night, twenty thousand."
"The fuck?" Leet cursed. "Everything on that doesn't even come up to five 'kay!"
"If you had the leisure to buy it all, you're right," I agreed. "But you don't. I'm going to have to take some risks to acquire all of this by tomorrow without anyone knowing who's doing it, much less where it's going. Unless you don't care if anyone knows it's you who's getting these supplies. If so, just ten should cover my expenses."
Putting his hand on Leet's shoulder, Uber asked, "How much with a Wednesday night timeline?
That was more reasonable. "Fifteen. I'm fairly sure at least two of these items can't be acquired through easy means. I'll need to find out where to get them."
"Ten," Uber countered. "And I'll tell you where we know most of that stuff can be found."
"Fourteen. I'll need to hire hands. My time is limited during the week."
"Eleven, we know people who don't mind doing dirty work for hard cash."
"If you trusted them to do this, you wouldn't have contacted me," I pointed out. "Thirteen, and if I don't have everything on this list by Wednesday, I'll finish it for free by the following night."
"That's pretty fair, dude," Uber muttered to Leet.
Unimpressed, Leet simply said, "Twelve."
"You really don't trust me, do you Leet?" I asked, deciding to tackle the particular hurdle now rather than wait and hope it would fix itself.
"You hang out with Assault and were seen going in and out of the PRT building," Leet returned.
"You didn't mind taking his money last month."
"She's got you there, man," Uber laughed.
Leet's frown deepened. "Villains and Heros don't mix."
"I think we all know what happens to capes without friends," I countered. "Not all of us are as lucky as you."
My point seemed to soften him up a bit. Something that became even more noticeable when Uber put his hand back on Leet's shoulder.
"Make no mistake," I continued casually. "Gambit is no hero, nor looking to be one. However, I have rent to pay like everyone else and until you messaged me, options weren't falling over themselves to come my way."
I gave them a moment to digest that before haggling once more. "I'll do the job for twelve on one condition."
"What's that?" Uber asked.
Sipping my coffee, I answered. "That when this is done, you guys keep me in mind. Regardless to what you think of how I spend my free time, I am, after all, a professional. While work like this, once in awhile, is fine, I prefer jobs more suited to my talents. So gentlemen, we have a deal, yes?"