Ahab - The Broker

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Nathan and Ororo head into the city to meet the broker hiring mercenaries for Rory. The broker is understandably concerned with things like confidentiality and his reputation. The two X-Men? Not so much.


"Solomon makes a good living as a broker, but he keeps his nose clean," Nathan said briefly to Ororo as they walked into the glistening marble lobby of the apartment building. "Officially he runs a consulting company. It's a decent cover, hence why he can live wherever the hell he wants - although I certainly didn't know he had a place in New York."

"It seems he is just full of surprises," the silver-haired woman muttered, jabbing at the button for the elevator with her thumb. She was grateful that Nathan's connections had gotten them this far and hoped they continued to pan out, but she couldn't help feeling a deep-seated loathing for anyone connected to this whole business.

Nathan couldn't not notice; Ororo wasn't precisely projecting, but he knew her too well by now. "He wanted to know whether I was back on the market," he said as the elevator doors opened. "I played coy. It should at least get us in the door."

It took the long elevator ride up for Ororo to compose herself; by the time they reached the correct floor she was outwardly calm and collected. "I will not blow our cover," she told Nathan quietly as they stepped out onto a thick Oriental-style rug. Though if he is not forthcoming with his information I cannot promise much patience, she added pointedly.

An attractive blonde maid let them into the apartment, simpering ever so slightly at Nathan. He ignored her, turning his attention to the man who stepped out of a doorway on the left side of the apartment's foyer, his teeth very white in his dark face as he grinned at Nathan. He was a full three inches taller than Nathan, and nearly as muscular, something that the immaculate linen suit seemed cut to show off.

"Dayspring. Will wonders never cease." He extended a hand and Nathan shook it, not batting an eye at the near-crushing grip. "And who is your lovely companion?"

"Someone who doesn't need to be flirted with, Solomon," Nathan said. "Remember what happened the last time you got too friendly with Dom?"

"How could I forget? I still have the scar."

Offering a tight smile to the man, Ororo crossed her arms over her chest. "We have come to ask you for some information," she said, seeing no reason to beat completely around the bush. She was all too aware of the fact that this man would probably enjoy keeping them dancing as long as he could.

Solomon's eyes widened, and the look of mild surprise might have been a put-on, but maybe not. "Well then," he said, looking back at Nathan. "I suppose it was wishful thinking, that you might be looking for work... I had heard certain things."

"Your name came up," Nathan said, folding his arms across his chest. They were still standing in the foyer, and Solomon was showing no signs of inviting them to sit down. They were about to get invited to leave, Nathan realized. "Your name came up, Solomon," he said before the taller man could respond, "in conjunction with a very unfortunate set of circumstances. You do not want," he said, more quietly, "to be any more involved in these circumstances than you already are. Who did you put in touch with Rory Campbell?"

"Who?" was the only response he got to that, the look of mild surprise never wavering.

"There is no doubt of the connection between that man-" Ororo nearly spat the words "and yourself. Feigning ignorance will not help you."

Solomon shook his head slowly. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

"What about a 'Mr. Ahab'?" Nathan said, never breaking eye contact with him. The flicker in Solomon's eyes was impossible to miss, even if his expression stayed smooth, and Nathan tracked the matching flicker in his thoughts. "Nervous bastard," he said deliberately. "Edgy about mutants..." Another, stronger flicker, the memory of an apparent contradiction. Nathan's eyes narrowed with concentration.

Glancing sideways at Nathan, Ororo tried to read his expression. She hadn't been joking when she had said her normally-endless patience was all but gone and she hoped that he had found something that would help them.

Solomon shook his head abruptly, staring hard at Nathan. "I do not betray the confidence of my clients, Nathan. You know this."

#Hit him,# Nathan's voice said in Ororo's mind.

The gust of wind that suddenly crashed against Solomon had the added benefit of upsetting the carefully-arranged flowers in the vase next to the door and setting the heavy drapes around the window swinging. Ororo had the pleasure of watching the maid skitter about in panic as the smell of ozone grew thick in the air. She spread her hands, feeling the not-unpleasant sensation of electricity jumping from finger to finger, and knew she must look rather wild. She didn't care, however, not if it meant getting the information they needed to track down the students.

#You don't need to call security,# Nathan projected at the maid. #Everything's okay.# He gazed down at Solomon, slipping in through the openings caused by shock, before his thoughts could slip back into a wary, guarded pattern. "Not your standard sort of client," Nathan said, his words provoking involuntary memories to rise to the surface, where he could skim them off. "You weren't... clear on what he wanted, why he needed..." Bingo. Nathan closed his eyes. Names, faces. #I've got what we need, Ororo.#

Vaguely Ororo heard the words, her name among them, but she wasn't quite ready to heed them. The hair on each person's neck began to stand on end as the electricity in the room grew and popped in her control. This man had given Rory the power he needed to abduct and for all they knew torture the children, and she wanted him to pay...

It wasn't an attack, what happened next; Nathan wasn't and would never be comfortable with using his telepathy as a weapon. But the images that suddenly flooded Ororo's mind pushed out the building rage as effectively as if Nathan had quashed it at its source. Images from the summits of half a dozen mountains, high and clear and empty, putting her at the center of the memories, calm and focused and the only one for miles.

The charges didn't disappear abruptly; they couldn't, really. But as the seconds ticked by they did fade, and Ororo's eyes lost their blankness until she was once again looking at the broker with a normal gaze. Now Nathan's words resounded with her - I've got what we need - and she took a step back towards the door, giving Solomon a curt nod.

"Good to see you, Solomon," Nathan said, turning away as well. "Mum's the word on the violation of confidentiality, don't worry, but really, you didn't want that client coming back anyway." He didn't add anything about not calling the police; Solomon wouldn't do any such thing. "Sorry for the mess. We'll let ourselves out."

He didn't say a word to Ororo until they were out in the hall and heading for the elevator. "You know," he said, pushing the button as they reached the doors, "usually I'm the one who needs help restraining his temper. I find this reversal of roles unsettling." It wasn't quite a flippant comment.

"I apologize for that," she replied, keeping her eyes trained on the metal doors in front of them. "And thank you for intervening. I would have regretted an excessive use of force, I am sure." It was obvious she was anything but sure about that.

"Ororo..." The doors opened, and he paused to step in, hitting the button for the lobby as she stepped in beside him. When they closed again, he looked down at her, gray eyes serious. "The man is not my friend. I don't even particularly like him. And he was a part of this, but a tangential part. I'd save the rage for who deserves it, if you understand me."

Ororo glanced up at Nathan, her expression slightly remorseful but determined all the same. "I understand. And I can assure you there will be plenty of retribution left for those who are responsible."

"... you sometimes make me feel very old. I just thought you should know that."