![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-gambit.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsBack in the U.S., Remy makes a deal with the devil he knows to take down the devil he doesn't.
"Please tell me this is on an official government phone."
"Did I suddenly seem to become stupid in your mind?"
"Based on the quality of the assassins you've hired to disrupt my
business in Europe, yes. I had to work Africa for a month. Do you have
any idea how much I hate Africa? And it doesn't pay nearly as well as
the EU. I'm very annoyed, David."
"You're a sick psychopath, Gambit. Your opinion doesn't matter, and
you're old enough to know the rules of this game. You got your payoff
from that group of worthless bums in New York. Dry your tears with
that."
"Strong language, David. I might be offended. I might hang up the
phone. Considering you initiated the contact here, that can't be in
your favour."
"Some things aren't worth compromising."
"Not in my experience." Remy lit a cigarette and pretended that he was
any where other than Philadelphia. At the first warning of the attack
on New York, Remy had bribed his way on to an ongoing FedEx flight
from Berlin and was one of the only planes to get past the halfway
point before air traffic was rerouted and grounded. Sneaking into the
country illegally used to be a lot easier, he considered. On reaching
the ground, he'd rented a car and was on his way back to New York. The
National Guard would be turning them back at some point, but if he
could get to Westchester, he could also get into the city by his own
methods, and find out who from his team got out, and where the rest
where.
The notice on one of his contact points of Byzantine complexity had
been a surprise. Remy employed blind message services as Gambit's
contact route, and each one was a complex hierarchy of stages that he
controlled, so by the time a potential employer finally reached
Gambit, there was no hope of using the system to track and trap him.
Few had even the basic level of contact, but one of them was
apparently David Langstrom. He knew it was a bit of a risk, but his
phone was new, the line clean, and tracking it would send electronic
surveillance on a wild ride through the Pyrenees. Considering the man
had been working diligently for months to have Gambit killed, it was
worth satisfying his curiosity.
"That's because you're a monster."
"The very best your mentor knew how to make. A monster that the Agency
didn't see any issues using. Are you planning to moralize all
afternoon at me, David? Shall we go over where you activated a sadist
in the middle of a school full of mutant children on the off chance
the X-Men might turn against the government? Tsk tsk. At least Whelan
never made excuses for his inhumanity."
"This is not a debate we need to have right now." Langstrom said
tightly, and Remy smiled at the scored point. Unlike Whelan, David
Langstrom had never authorized the kind of cold killing on possible
dangers to a great extent. Even Xavier's had been in response to the
possibility of Xavier getting telepathic control of Gambit, which
would have destroyed the Agency and decades of intelligence resources,
not something done lightly or without doubt. He knew that Langstrom
carried guilt alongside his patriotic resolve, which is part of the
reason he hadn't removed the man. Langstrom was a devil he knew, and
there were lines that he wouldn't cross. That kind of knowledge and
insight was part of what had kept him safe in Europe and ahead of the
assassins.
"No, you're right. It's boring. You're boring. I'm bored. Make me
interested enough not to hang up the phone."
"New York has been attacked by a mutant calling himself Apocalypse."
"You have to respect the branding."
"He's managed to cut the city off, and is in the process of taking
total control. We're evacuating civilians and isolating the scene, but
SHIELD's been given the operational control and those idiots are
throwing every half-baked secret gimmick in their playbook at him."
"Which won't work."
"No. Knowing them, it's only a matter of time before they go running
to the X-Men." Remy made an angry noise in his throat in response to
Langstrom's mention of the team. He'd taken pains to make sure the CIA
believed Gambit and the X-Men were enemies. "If the mutants are
successful against Apocalypse, it won't have the same finality that
national security requires."
"You're afraid if they succeed, Apocalypse will still be alive."
"Exactly. I want a permanent solution, Gambit. You might be a monster
released, but unfortunately, there's a bigger picture to consider, and
a need the biggest monster I can find."
"Sounds like the beginning of an offer."
"Straightforward contract. I want Apocalypse dead in the next 96
hours. That's a firm timetable."
"Attack an immensely powerful mutant, surrounding by more mutants,
while Xavier's dogs get a chance at me. No deal."
"Wait—"
"I can get in and out of New York. I can even likely take your latest
terrorist all the way out. But with the X-Men dancing to SHIELD's
tune, I'll be lucky if I'm not brainfried by Xavier by the first day.
He's not exactly gentle with people who cross him."
"What would it take?"
"Call off your dogs. I'm tired of having my meals interrupted by some
idiot child with a half dozen years of special ops training and no
brain who I have to kill. I take the job, regardless of the outcome,
you pull your vendetta and let me get back to making money."
"Agreed."
"I want five million up front, and fifteen if I take Apocalypse all
the way out."
"Impossible. That's far too much money for—"
"I know that in 1987, Khun Sa's capo, Nyueng Dah invested forty-two
million dollars illegally obtained from the CIA sponsored opium fields
in Burma into a thirty year bond which was carefully laundered by
Agency operatives in Switzerland. That bond, thanks to Chester Whelan,
came under the control of his black ops fund when Dah was assassinated
in Madripoor in 1993. I know that because I was the one who killed
him. With Whelan's death, his structure of false identities and
accounts passed into your control, and I know you cashed the bond
eight months ago, which is how you justified hiring the worst of
Europe's assassins to annoy me." Remy smiled thinly, his satisfaction
clear over the phone.
"So, I'll take five million wired to my usual account today. Call it a
'pissing me off' tax. I bring out a dead body, fifteen million gets
you a closed account. No more attempts on my life, and I won't turn
little Karen Langstrom into a rape/murder statistic for the state of
Maryland. Do we have a deal?"
There was a long silence. "The transfer should clear before the end of
business today."
"Good boy, David. Whelan would be proud. If I succeed, you get a major
threat off the boards. If I fail, you get to know that I'm likely
dead, and all your secrets are safe. All for twenty million. Bravo."
Remy thumbed the phone power off, and flung it over the side of the
next bridge he crossed. Langstrom would never honour the full deal,
even if Remy did kill Apocalypse, but now he had all the cover he
needed to get into Manhattan and find his people. Remy nudged the gas
and continued his straight run back to his home.
"Please tell me this is on an official government phone."
"Did I suddenly seem to become stupid in your mind?"
"Based on the quality of the assassins you've hired to disrupt my
business in Europe, yes. I had to work Africa for a month. Do you have
any idea how much I hate Africa? And it doesn't pay nearly as well as
the EU. I'm very annoyed, David."
"You're a sick psychopath, Gambit. Your opinion doesn't matter, and
you're old enough to know the rules of this game. You got your payoff
from that group of worthless bums in New York. Dry your tears with
that."
"Strong language, David. I might be offended. I might hang up the
phone. Considering you initiated the contact here, that can't be in
your favour."
"Some things aren't worth compromising."
"Not in my experience." Remy lit a cigarette and pretended that he was
any where other than Philadelphia. At the first warning of the attack
on New York, Remy had bribed his way on to an ongoing FedEx flight
from Berlin and was one of the only planes to get past the halfway
point before air traffic was rerouted and grounded. Sneaking into the
country illegally used to be a lot easier, he considered. On reaching
the ground, he'd rented a car and was on his way back to New York. The
National Guard would be turning them back at some point, but if he
could get to Westchester, he could also get into the city by his own
methods, and find out who from his team got out, and where the rest
where.
The notice on one of his contact points of Byzantine complexity had
been a surprise. Remy employed blind message services as Gambit's
contact route, and each one was a complex hierarchy of stages that he
controlled, so by the time a potential employer finally reached
Gambit, there was no hope of using the system to track and trap him.
Few had even the basic level of contact, but one of them was
apparently David Langstrom. He knew it was a bit of a risk, but his
phone was new, the line clean, and tracking it would send electronic
surveillance on a wild ride through the Pyrenees. Considering the man
had been working diligently for months to have Gambit killed, it was
worth satisfying his curiosity.
"That's because you're a monster."
"The very best your mentor knew how to make. A monster that the Agency
didn't see any issues using. Are you planning to moralize all
afternoon at me, David? Shall we go over where you activated a sadist
in the middle of a school full of mutant children on the off chance
the X-Men might turn against the government? Tsk tsk. At least Whelan
never made excuses for his inhumanity."
"This is not a debate we need to have right now." Langstrom said
tightly, and Remy smiled at the scored point. Unlike Whelan, David
Langstrom had never authorized the kind of cold killing on possible
dangers to a great extent. Even Xavier's had been in response to the
possibility of Xavier getting telepathic control of Gambit, which
would have destroyed the Agency and decades of intelligence resources,
not something done lightly or without doubt. He knew that Langstrom
carried guilt alongside his patriotic resolve, which is part of the
reason he hadn't removed the man. Langstrom was a devil he knew, and
there were lines that he wouldn't cross. That kind of knowledge and
insight was part of what had kept him safe in Europe and ahead of the
assassins.
"No, you're right. It's boring. You're boring. I'm bored. Make me
interested enough not to hang up the phone."
"New York has been attacked by a mutant calling himself Apocalypse."
"You have to respect the branding."
"He's managed to cut the city off, and is in the process of taking
total control. We're evacuating civilians and isolating the scene, but
SHIELD's been given the operational control and those idiots are
throwing every half-baked secret gimmick in their playbook at him."
"Which won't work."
"No. Knowing them, it's only a matter of time before they go running
to the X-Men." Remy made an angry noise in his throat in response to
Langstrom's mention of the team. He'd taken pains to make sure the CIA
believed Gambit and the X-Men were enemies. "If the mutants are
successful against Apocalypse, it won't have the same finality that
national security requires."
"You're afraid if they succeed, Apocalypse will still be alive."
"Exactly. I want a permanent solution, Gambit. You might be a monster
released, but unfortunately, there's a bigger picture to consider, and
a need the biggest monster I can find."
"Sounds like the beginning of an offer."
"Straightforward contract. I want Apocalypse dead in the next 96
hours. That's a firm timetable."
"Attack an immensely powerful mutant, surrounding by more mutants,
while Xavier's dogs get a chance at me. No deal."
"Wait—"
"I can get in and out of New York. I can even likely take your latest
terrorist all the way out. But with the X-Men dancing to SHIELD's
tune, I'll be lucky if I'm not brainfried by Xavier by the first day.
He's not exactly gentle with people who cross him."
"What would it take?"
"Call off your dogs. I'm tired of having my meals interrupted by some
idiot child with a half dozen years of special ops training and no
brain who I have to kill. I take the job, regardless of the outcome,
you pull your vendetta and let me get back to making money."
"Agreed."
"I want five million up front, and fifteen if I take Apocalypse all
the way out."
"Impossible. That's far too much money for—"
"I know that in 1987, Khun Sa's capo, Nyueng Dah invested forty-two
million dollars illegally obtained from the CIA sponsored opium fields
in Burma into a thirty year bond which was carefully laundered by
Agency operatives in Switzerland. That bond, thanks to Chester Whelan,
came under the control of his black ops fund when Dah was assassinated
in Madripoor in 1993. I know that because I was the one who killed
him. With Whelan's death, his structure of false identities and
accounts passed into your control, and I know you cashed the bond
eight months ago, which is how you justified hiring the worst of
Europe's assassins to annoy me." Remy smiled thinly, his satisfaction
clear over the phone.
"So, I'll take five million wired to my usual account today. Call it a
'pissing me off' tax. I bring out a dead body, fifteen million gets
you a closed account. No more attempts on my life, and I won't turn
little Karen Langstrom into a rape/murder statistic for the state of
Maryland. Do we have a deal?"
There was a long silence. "The transfer should clear before the end of
business today."
"Good boy, David. Whelan would be proud. If I succeed, you get a major
threat off the boards. If I fail, you get to know that I'm likely
dead, and all your secrets are safe. All for twenty million. Bravo."
Remy thumbed the phone power off, and flung it over the side of the
next bridge he crossed. Langstrom would never honour the full deal,
even if Remy did kill Apocalypse, but now he had all the cover he
needed to get into Manhattan and find his people. Remy nudged the gas
and continued his straight run back to his home.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}