X-force log: Madripoor

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Timestamp: Midday Madripoor time. 10-11pm US Westchester time.

X-force arrives in Madripoor.




"Madripoor. Just breathe in dat corrupted, money and desperation filled air, neh?" Remy said as they left the international airport. Inside the terminal, and right up until the security areas, the space had been packed by a combination of travelers and local merchants, hawking all manner of trinkets and already offering local services for taxis, hotels and whores. Remy had purposely had them come in through the main terminal, as opposed to the executive terminal, which was heavily policed by the military, to ensure wealthy or high profile guests didn't have to deal with the same riffraff as the common travelers.

The airport was out on a rocky isthmus, leading into the island itself. From where they stood, they could see the great sweep of the bay, running from the naval base nearby to the vast pier complexes of the city itself. Some cities of boats clustered at various points, and smaller craft darted around giant cargo ships and oilers moving sluggishly in and out of the massive commercial dock at the far side. A road led up into a beautiful walled city of estates and palaces, while another turned down into the bay, heading for the leprous looking city mass that crouched huge and tumorous around the bay.

"Hightown, Lowtown." Remy said, pointing to both. "You won't find a sharper example of de distinction between wealth den here. Farouk's place supposed to be in Hightown. We booked some rooms at de hotel nearby. No one tell Emma, because she might need to chop off a pinkie to afford de bill."

"You will not find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious," Doug quoted, mostly to himself, as he adjusted his laptop bag up further onto his shoulders. In keeping with their attempt at a low profile entrance, he was dressed in jeans and a worn sweater, trying to fit the part of a college student traveling the world on his semester off.

"Actually, you more right den you think. Madripoor is famous as a clearing house for 'bout anything you could want. Slaves, drugs, weapons, and most importantly, information. We know where Farouk is. De question is what kind of protection has he arranged? Or deal is he running?" Remy shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Remy going to check out a few sources in Lowtown. You get to dat clinic and scope it out."

Pete tugged at his tie, pulling his shirt collar open a bit in response the heat and humidity. "I sodding hate this part of the world." he muttered almost to himself, before glancing back at them. "I'm off to find a bar. I'll see you all at the hotel this evening."

Seeing the strange looks he got from everyone, he added. "It's a specific fucking bar, with some specific fucking people in it. If I just wanted to go blind under unpleasant circumstances, I'd have gone and found a sports bar in New York. I'm hoping these bastards will have heard something..."

"You're not going to-- merde, you are." Remy sighed, his statement making sense only to Wisdom. "I hope de cleaners can get blood out of dis coat, all Remy saying."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Ah, one of those bars. Spiffy. Take care and don't kill too many people. I think there're tariffs here for that kind of thing." He shifted uncomfortably, his hand instinctively finding its way into his pocket to grip his iPod. "So what kinda 'clinic' is this exactly?"

"Absurdly expensive, with high security." Marie-Ange answered. "It is one of those places that people go to either die, or more often, skip ahead several hundred places on transplant waiting lists. It would be where the stolen kidneys from one of those urban legend stories go." She took a step to the side, to stand behind Doug, and took a sheaf of papers out of his laptop bag. "Which means no going home with any of the locals. You need both of your kidneys, Mark."

"Great. So where I would have ended up had the Germans not strapped me to a table first." Sarah was chewing at the cuticles of a bone free hand, thankful she had made the decision on the plane. Nothing like advertising your mutation could be worth a lot of fucking money while in backwater Asia.

As Pete and Remy disappeared into the press of humanity, Doug glanced at each of the others in turn. "Well, no time like the present. Let's go find the clinic."

~*~

"I wonder if it's possible for us to be any more conspicuous," Mark pondered aloud. "Wanna rig up a big fuckin' neon sign that flashes 'tourist!'? Eugh, I hate being a tourist."

"So stop being a tourist?" Marie-Ange was playing the role of tourist to the hilt. But really, it was the only role she could play with any sort of believability. She had a fold-up map and some guidebooks and the room receipt for their hotel in her purse. With a set of travel documents that most certainly did not have the name Marie-Ange Colbert on them.

Had she seen them earlier, she might have turned and walked in the other direction but as it was, Jubilee was almost right next to them when she noticed Marie-Ange and the shock of seeing familiar faces after months out of the loop had her standing there with an almost dumb look on her face.

"Marie-Ange?" she asked, almost positive that she had to be hallucinating. What the hell were they doing in Madripoor? "What are you doin' here?"

"Research project." It wasn't strictly speaking, a lie. They were doing research. On just how best to get into that clinic and deal with the issue at hand. And just what was Jubilee doing here in the first place? She was supposed to be in ... she vaguely remembered someone while she and Doug were on vacation telling her that Jubilee had gone to China to spend time with family.

"On what?" she asked, trying to think of what they could possibly be studying around here. Lowtown she might understand more, but here? Unless they were looking into the same group of people she was, which seemed somewhat impossible.

"~Who is this and is this bad?~" Mark muttered in poorly-accented Italian to Doug. Marie-Ange didn't seem at all nonplussed, but he figured it was an act. No one told him to expect to meet anyone here, and surprises so early into this just seemed like a bad omen.

"~Old classmate~," Doug muttered back in far more literate Italian. "Jubilee? We could ask the same question. What are -you- doing here?" He frowned. Looking like tourists made them relatively invisible. Impromptu class reunions in the middle of the road was conspicuous. "How about we catch up someplace that isn't the middle of a street with pickpockets and so forth?" he asked, taking Jubilee and steering her along with the group.

Sarah looked at Jubilee very carefully for a moment, then shrugged. It's not like stranger things hadn't happened before. "Yeah, I sure wouldn't want somebody taking all the money I was going to spend on shitty souvenirs."

"Pickpockets aren't what you should really be worryin' about in this part of the city." Jubilee replied mildly, allowing herself to be pushed along by Doug. "There's a cafe not far, just down the road, we can talk there."

It took several minutes for the group to get a table and drinks, after which Doug leaned onto the table and clasped his hands together. "So, back to the topic of conversation. What are you doing here, Jubilee?"

Jubilee shrugged, her body language seemingly relaxed, but she didn't meet the gaze of anyone around the table. "I've been watching a local smuggling ring. There's a clinic near here I've heard caters to some of them. Yourselves?"

"~Did no one teach her how to be discreet? She's chasing rumors, but at least they are not related to our problem.~" Marie-Ange dropped into French briefly, and did nothing to mask her irritation. "You asked that already. There's some concern that one of the patients here has been ... It is hard to explain and I am not sure I can give you details." Her head was really starting to hurt quite a lot. "~Doug, you are better at pretending to be nice then I am. See if she has any information on the clinic?~"

The speaking in other languages was probably rude, but Doug had learned to be wary of coincidences, so until Jubilee had justified her presence a little better, she could deal with a little bit of rudeness. "What have you found out about the clinic?" he asked politely. If she had valuable information, it would certainly be a help.

"~We going to all stick to one language if I let you know what I know?~" Jubilee replied in Mandarin, expression tightening at the rapid changes between English and not-English. "~Or don't you trust me?~"

Doug switched linguistic gears easily to the tonal sounds of Mandarin, his accent sounding much like Jubilee's. "~Jubilee, it's not that we don't trust you.~" He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "~Okay, no, it -is- that we don't trust you. Don't take this the wrong way, but you were off doing whatever it was you were doing, and to come across you here, in Madripoor, when we're involved in a...delicate situation...well, it could be a coincidence,~" he said dubiously. "~But I prefer not to be bitten in the ass if it's not.~"

Jubilee was silent for a moment, sifting through her options as she looked at the people in their little group, three she knew, one she had no idea of. What she knew of the three she did know was out of date, but she would think still somewhat reliable. Reliable enough that she'd felt no problem telling them why she was here anyhow. "Okay, I can't tell you much about the inside, not the type of place to let just anyone inside, ya see. But, I can tell you everything I've seen over the last week. "