Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.
-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-
Sitting in a bar that served up a decent enough beer, Victor looked over the job one last time making sure he had all the details down pat. Intellectual theft was the M.O., some defence contractor for Uncle Sam looking to get back what was theirs and save face. A dossier contained all the info they had on the man in question, and sure enough his own mysterious agent had gotten him something recent that would have his scent on it, vacuum sealed for freshness.
"Best open that somewhere I can get to know it alone." Victor muttered as he stuffed the bag in his jacket before having another sip of his beer.
Smirking to himself as an idea struck him, he dug out his phone and found that little icon for what his little Lee called an App, taken to that know it all site. Typing in the name of the company, he killed his beer and another doing a little reading on everything they were into as far as their public face went. Lot of robotics that went right over his head, like planes that flew themselves and such. Settling up he paid his bill and hit the street, too much Madripoor out there for this weasel to hide in.
Probably the reason they baited so many hooks looking to catch this fish. The thought came. Except fishing wasn't his game and he'd already sent out some hounds to flush the mark, because if anyone was gonna bag this six figure fox it was gonna be him. All it took was a phone call to the right people and sending a snapshot of the quarry over the phone. Not that he was gonna wait around, even if he still had to find out just where his prey was didn't mean he couldn't have some fun in the mean time eliminating the competition.
While he didn't know who the Merc was, he had to be new enough at the game to still be stuck showing his hand with years of paramilitary training giving him away. Of course the gun oil and that tantalizing aroma of powder burn was something he could pick out at twenty yards even through all the sweat, beer and piss from the urinals. Letting him run, he followed after just long enough for the man to get a comfortable lead.
"Show me what ya got kiddo." Whispered words and the thrill of the hunt had him picking his quarry vanishing down an alleyway.
Another problem about Lowtown was that it was fluid, cleansing fires burning down whole swaths of it for new neighbourhoods to bloom. Head out of town long enough and it might as well be your first time coming back. That alleyway could be anything from his preys escape to a trap. Joining the crowd and walking on past, he made a show of inspecting the wares of some street vendor looking to sell him some rat dressed up as chicken.
"Two American Dollar, very fresh!" The sales pitch went.
Digging for some change and haggling him down to a buck, it wasn't as if he hadn't eaten rat enough times during his wars and there was something to be said for the liberal use of spices. Stringy it was, throw it on a bun and get some fixing on it and it probably would have been some decent street meat. Leaning up against some shack at the mouth of that alley and slowly stripping the skewer clean, through practice and force of will alone he blocked out the din of the crowded street all the while listening for his bit of fun. Smiling at the sound of a suppresser being screwed into place, next came the flick of the safety being thrown off.
"Olly olly oxen free..." Victor sang, having his last bite and tossing the bamboo stick with the rest of the trash that littered the street.
The alley was little more than a place to hide a drainage ditch, a place to dump refuse and for arguments to be taken away from the customers. The smell was awful, but after surviving the trenches of WWI it didn't bother him. Catching his prey off down the alley doing his best to look casual smoking a butt, what he couldn't hide were the tells that were throwbacks to the days when man had a few rungs left to go on the food chain.
"Should I stay or should I go?" He sang, a song coming to him as he strolled along.
Moments like this life gave ya two choices and it took a hell of a lot for him to run, and whether full of himself or too stupid to know when trouble came knocking the Merc held his ground. Credit where it was due, the kid had balls and that earned him a quick death, just another bone tossed to his beast to keep it in check.
"This indecisions bugging me..." The words were a murmur, picking out lines he knew and humming the rest.
Doing something that took him by surprise, the Merc flicked his butt and took off down the alley at a brisk pace. His blood answered at the sight of his prey turning tail and running, and it was an effort to reign in his beast and keep walking on down that alley singing his song looking to savour to the kill.
"It's always tease, tease, tease..."
Following along through the crowded street that cut through the alley, the Merc joined the pack and tried to lose himself. Problem was his stripes didn't match and he was easy to pick out and he knew it. Whether a sloppy mistake or a trick up his prey's sleeve only time would tell, for now he just kept him in sight. Spotting another alley up ahead and the way his mark struggled against the crowd to get to it, it looked like he might run yet or just be looking for a place to set a trap.
Walking along humming along, the crowd yielded to him, be it sheer intimidation of his visage or some part of their mind knowing when a predator was lurking around didn't matter. Turning the corner and getting out of the flow the alley was indistinguishable from the other aside from the fact that his prey was waiting and ready. Pistol drawn, the Merc didn't stand on ceremony and unloaded a quick three round burst centre mass. Playing for the crowd, he fell to his knees himself and pressed a hand to his chest that came back slick with his own blood.
Even if it was his own, his vision ran red and it was an effort to keep from leaping to his feet and tearing out the man's throat. That moments distraction was enough for the night sight he saw to be a boot before it crushed his nose, shattering cartilage and earning a snarl.
"Next three are gonna be north of your neckline if I don't start getting some answers, like why the hell are you tailing me?" The Merc shouted.
Falling back two paces and keeping the pistol poised as if it was any threat, maybe if he had a sawed off shottie it'd actually tickle. Gritting his teeth and resisting the call of so much blood even if it was his own, pressing a thumb to one nostril Victor cleared the other in a thick spray of crimson and repeated it.
"Lets just say ya got my blood pumping." Victor growled, letting his prey take that how he would.
Standing there as cool as could be with his pistol ready, there was more than enough uncertainty in the Merc's eyes as he bore his gaze down. So come on and let me know, singing only for himself Victor tensed and coiled more than ready enough to end this. Shifting his feet to find the purchase he'd need, letting go of a breath he leapt at his prey with his claws slipping free looking to rend flesh.
Ignoring the firecracker pop of the suppressed pistol and the sting of small calibre rounds biting his flesh, the only thing that mattered was the wheezing gasp of his victim when his claws dug under the rib cage to pierce the sheltered lung. Hefting him off his feet and staring deep into the terror filled eyes, it was all over now. The tumble of a pistol heralded the fading of the light, and breathing deep he savoured the dying breath. Letting a shaky one go himself, a bit of house keeping and rifling of pockets found a picture of the mark they shared.
"Fifty American Dollars ta whoever takes this fella for a one way tour o' the harbour." Victor called out, digging for his bill fold and stripping off a few.
Without even needing to look Lowtown showed its colours as two men came out of the milling crowd that had been watching the entertainment utterly indifferent of who won. With one taking the arms and the other the legs, he stuffed the bills in the nearest's pocket and that was that. Having gave his beast what it wanted, it was time to get down to business.
-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-
Waking to the feeling like she'd been on a tear the night before, the lie to never drink again was almost past her lips when Jubilee started to notice things out of place. The most glaring of these was that she was tied to a chair in a fucking sandbox dressed in that bikini Vic had bought her. Snapping her gaze to and fro despite how it set her world swimming and had her head throbbing, she started to wonder if she wasn't dreaming the insanity of what she saw.
The chair she was tied to was indeed in a sandbox complete with a beach umbrella set up in some warehouse, along with what she could only call Hawaiian music playing from some beat up stereo beside her. And to top it all off dancing to the tune was some Spider-man reject in a grass skirt and sunglasses. Muttering a quick Fuck my Life, it must have carried over the music as the nut job turned to face her.
"You're awake! You looked like you were ready to go to the beach, so I figured I might as well bring the beach to you. Hey, wanna a pina colada?" He asked, doing the hula over to a shabby bar to fix the cocktail.
Staring in abject disbelief at what she was seeing, it was just like her dating life until Vic came along, always drawing the crazies. Testing the ropes and finding that crazy he might be he knew how to tie a knot, an experimental rock of the chair found it to be sturdily built. It'd take more than a slam against the floor to break it, and in her survey of the room she saw way too many firearms and...yep, swords laying around that would give him all too much time to get the upper hand. Wiggling her toes in the sand, an idea formed that might just turn the table in her favour.
"Hope you don't mind I did a little rummaging through your purse. So, Jubilee? That a stage name or something that stuck cause I can just see it now..presenting Cherries Jubilee! Vic always seemed to have a thing for strippers and hookers." Digging his own grave one word at a time, he didn't seem to notice the murderous look he was getting.
Figuring she must have been drugged, she considered her next move very carefully as she'd only have one shot at it. Whoever this guy was he was either the mother load of cocky for the world or just wasn't playing with a full deck, but somehow he knew Vic and that at least had her figuring on a maybe of why he had kidnapped her.
At least she hoped that was the reason why, because given the fantasy he'd already built while she was out if the next cocktail he mentioned was Sex on the Beach she was gonna lose her cool and get reckless. Muttering nonsense and slurring her words, somehow he looked curious even with that mask and sunglasses on.
"Say what?" Leaning in with his ear near her lips, he even held a hand in that classic gesture of I can't hear you.
"I said..." Jubilee whispered before launching her attack.
Biting his ear through the mask, she tasted blood and gnashed her teeth hard until the only thing keeping her from having a mouthful of flesh was the fabric. Surging to her feet, she kicked him square in the nuts once, twice and a third for good measure until he slipped in the sand. Stomping once and twice again just to be sure, once he fell in a fetal pose she tumbled to the ground and latched her legs around his neck. Squeezing with all her might, she'd only ever tried this with Logan for good reason, one of those dirty little tricks he had ironed out with her for timeslike this when it was an 'Either you or them' moment.
Finally this nutter in the mostly red one piece stopped struggling and fell faint giving her the time she figured she'd need to find someway of getting untied and the hell away from wherever the heck she was. Getting back to her feet though horribly hunched over with the chair making it a chore to walk, she looked back down at her kidnapper and spat to clear the bloody taste from her lips.
"You forgot to tie up my legs up asshole." Jubilee growled.
Running as fast as she could to a workbench in whatever warehouse this was she found herself in, one workbench had an unhealthy number of knives and swords littering it and was her best chance of getting out of her bind. Twisting around and fumbling blindly ever so carefully, she felt the hilt of something that had to be a sword and started reaching for something smaller when she heard a cough. Looking in horror at where she'd left him, she froze as he easily leapt to his feet and rolled his neck as if she hadn't just tried to break his neck like it was some thigh master.
"Damn, now I see why Vic likes ya. You're feisty and you're a biter, rack that up with those legs that just don't quit and can crush a man's larynx and it's a match made in heaven." Said wholly impressed and utterly as a compliment, he tilted his head just so to see what she was up to.
"And she goes straight for the swords! You're wasted on Vic, runaway with me and we can make sweet mayhem together! Just like Bonnie and Clyde, or Thelma and Louise even! I look surprisingly good in a wig just so you know." Pitching his affections as he walked up and hefted her over his shoulder, Plan B had her wishing she had ear plugs.
Focussing just like at the bar back when she'd gone hunting after Logan back when this whole crazy whirlwind had snatched her up, she let her power tingle and burn in her hands and clenched her fists trying to force it down into a single ball ready to explode. A moments deafening noise drowned away the world and left it a place of unnatural quiet broken only by a ringing that wouldn't go away. Feeling herself falling, the ground came fast and knocked the air from her lungs. Scrambling to her feet in a drunken shamble, she felt like she wanted to vomit.
Standing on shaky legs and blinking away the stars that blinded her, through the haze she saw an exit that became her only chance. Rushing at it, she got five paces when she felt herself brought short as a strong grip slammed the chair back down. Spotting the business end of a barrel in her field of vision, she looked up at her attacker and felt the first bit of real fear.
"Now there's no way you had a Flash Bang hidden in that bikini, so...Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do!" He yelled in his best Ricky Ricardo.
"Fuck my life, always the fucking crazies." Jubilee swore, relenting to being treated as human baggage as he dragged the chair back to the sandbox and this time tied up her legs.
I make it a habit to never meet the men of the ladies that I be so lucky to entertain even if it only be as friends. Au Revoir ma cher.
Thinking again back to breakfast as she sat at a patio waiting for the cat to drag in the bit of rough and rugged she needed back in her life, Marie realized she had her hands steeped before her...one of which he had kissed in his parting. Heaving a breath and swearing she could still smell his cologne, that spicy musky aroma that hid a trace of cigarette smoke, a vision of those sinful lips had her shiver and blush.
Checking the time again, his best guess for when he'd be there had already been overshot by a half hour, but that was just Logan. Fifteen minutes meant forty-five and that was that. Running a finger on the rim of her glass, she settled the question of whether it was half empty or full by having another sip and watching the crowds walk by.
"Ya look like ya've been stood up." Smiling at the sound of his voice, she played his game having earned it for somehow sneaking up on her.
"Sucker's got another ten minutes or I'm callin' in another Mister with an offer o' lunch." Marie said without looking behind her.
Trembling at his touch that betrayed her act, his fingers traced the delicate line of her neck. Sliding down the neck of her shirt his fingers lead the way for his arm to wrap her up in an embrace, his chin resting on her shoulder as he inhaled everything that was her. A single rose was laid before her, and his now free hand rested atop hers.
"Had a lot o' time ta think on the way down here ta go chasin' after answers about my past like some dog after his tail, runnin' round and round n' not stoppin' ta see the right idjit he looks like. Thinkin' maybe if yer up fer the ride, it's about time I get down ta some real livin' ta make some memories I can look back on." Logan whispered, his cheek rough against hers still fresh from the road, gasoline and exhaust hanging heavy to him.
Melting into his embrace at these words, only the chair standing between them, she picked up the rose and indulged in it with a breath, the petals tickling her nose. With a playful smile tugging at her lips she batted him on the nogging with it and then pointed at the empty seat in invitation. His parting had her miss the warmth of his arms wrapped around her, but that was just something to fuel her thoughts of just what fun they'd have in that hotel suite for one.
"Well, I guess I know how we're gettin' back on up on home after here, maybe we can go about takin' the scenic route." Marie said in answer, smiling at his invitation and his own answer to just what she had asked him the other night.
"Guess we better go on huntin' down that son o' a bitch LeBeau and get the answers I...we came all the way down here. Put those ghosts to rest." Logan replied, reaching for her hand across the table to place a kiss to her knuckles.
Among all the little affections she had grown to know in the courtship that had come out of being friends for so long this was among her favourite. So it was that instead of seeing him at peace and rest as he laved kissed to each knuckle she felt a twinge of ire rise at how he froze and sniffed her hand. Feeling his grip grow from tender to tight, she plucked her hand away and looked at him for answers.
"Just what the hell did that fella ya went gallivantin' around with last night say his name was again?" Logan asked through tight lips.
"Robert, Robert Lord. What the hell is it ta ya Logan?" Marie asked sharply, snatching up her beer to finish it in one long swig.
"That son o' a bitch..." Logan growled.
"Oh for fuck sake Logan, he's no one. Just some fella that showed me a good time and not like Lee and whoever the hell this god damned long lost brother o' yers is. He was a perfect gentleman." Groaning at his theatrics, she threw a bit of her earlier irritation right back in his face.
"This Mister Lord about six feet, kinda o' hair that looks like he gets out o' the shower and figures that's enough, and flirts like some folks breath? Cajun boy that throws in just enough french ta sound exotic?" Logan asked, only for her to feel her face go slack in shock.
"Oh you don't fuckin' mean...?" Marie started to ask.
"Fuckin' Remy LeBeau, whole city o' women and he goes hittin' on you." Logan growled, shaking his head with a hiss and catching the eye of the waiter to order a beer himself.
"Well...I guess that means this just got a whole lot easier Sugah..." Smiling up at him, she caught him looking at her with that eyebrow of his begging her to enlighten him.
"Wait, ya don't mean...?" Logan started, finishing in a chuckle that didn't speak well of whoever it was meant for.
"Uh huh, I got his number." Marie replied with a grin that might well have been seductive for how he was looking at her now.
"Yer hotel near?" Logan asked, switching gears so quick he caused a derailment of her train of thought.
"Uh...yeah?" Her reply was uncertain, but something about the way he was looking at her said she just might like where this was going.
"Good, because right about now there's a few more things that kissin' ya I'd rather be doin'."
-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=–
"We found him."
Three little words that made his six figure payday. Every asset he had was now getting hellbent for leather to get right down to where his mark was and make sure there was nowhere for him to run. Showing up fashionably late, getting outta Lowtown was a lot easier than getting in, every rickshaw and cabbie looking to take you for a ride to line their pockets. Names had power, and he had more than a few that were known from every crook to killer that even decades old still had 'em showing the proper respect.
Walking up to his man that was running the show, a dog that had a scruffy coat marred by scars and looked to know the taste of human blood laid at his feet with its eyes looking alert. Kneeling down next to it, Victor reached to pet the mangey beast that knew an Alpha when it saw one.
"The restaurant is a front, has a takeout counter to make it look legit but if you go looking to eat in you won't get a table. Booked solid and not taking any reservations ever. Just a gambling den with a little this and that going on." His man explained.
"Gamblin' ain't illegal here, so that has me figuring the kind o' regulars this joint gets are the ones that already owe Tyger Tiger and are lookin' to try their luck elsewhere ta see if they can't settle with the house." Victor reasoned, a nod from his man telling him he had it in one.
"Had a few of them inform me that for some reason it's hard to get a table today, sent a some guys out to keep an eye on it and wouldn't you know it if that man you asked me to keep an eye out for goes walking on in." Shaking hands, the devil's due was paid with a bit of a bonus to have them ready to get to work the next time he dropped a dime.
Whatever the deal going down, to do it on Tyger Tiger's turf meant ya either had balls or the right kind of friends to pull it off. Everything about the job screamed the Chinese with this last bit of info falling into place, and that meant things could get messy. Heading across the street and flipping off some prick that had the nerve to blare his horn, if he wasn't on the clock he would have had fun giving him something to honk about. Joining the queue, at least from everything he smelt he wouldn't be paying for dressed up rat this time.
Hitting the counter and having an idea of what he was gonna order, something about the man behind that stretch of linoleum and plastic said he didn't have to pussy foot about why he was there. Ordering up just like the rest, a pretty little thing came on out of the dining room and welcomed him on in. Looking around, he saw a good line up of the usual suspects along with some fresh meat and a good deal of out of town help. Smirking at them, a scene from one of the movies him and his little Lee had killed time with flying half way around the world came to mind.
"Do you know who I am?" Victor asked with a pregnant pause.
In that silence there were questions being asked by those who didn't, a mix of the better part of Southeast Asian in showing along with Mandarin and his own first tongue of English. Yet the ones that knew the answer had no need to say a word that wasn't said with anything other than their body language, from tensing ready for a futile fight to reaching for whatever their weapon of choice was.
"I do." One said who reminded him of a ruthless little cunt from before whatever years had caught up to him.
"Good, that'll save me some time then." Victor replied taking a seat and waiting for his order to come on up.
Keeping eyes on his mark and the interesting briefcase he had with him, he had to wonder just what it was with deals like this that made everyone want to be fucking Bond or something. The only thing fucking handcuffing the case to oneself did was expedite oneself earning the nickname Lefty.
"Kill him." Someone that had the People's Republic of China written all over him said with the finality that meant he was used to getting his way.
Chuckling, Victor watched as half the room pulled a fine collection of hardware our entirely pointed at him for the other half to make things real interesting in a fine little stand off. Ignoring the scene figuring it'd play out one way or another that left him on top, he just looked at his mark and flashed fangs at seeing him noticeably sweating despite the very comfortable air conditioning.
"What one half of you sons of bitches understand is that ya got one chance at leavin' here alive, and I'll extend that offer ta the ones that need to be enlightened. Take the fucker that just told ya all ta kill me...and reciprocate."
Leaning back in his chair and ignoring the pathetic screams of some trumped up bureaucrat getting dragged off to his death, a look to his right found his meal waiting for him and the pretty little waitress bowing before taking her leave. Catching the eye of one of the Mercs and giving a nod to the case, his mark had until he was finished eating to get the cuffs off otherwise...well, what was one more Lefty in the world?
-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-