xp_logs | Remy & Morgan | BACKDATED Saturday

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Morgan shows up at Snow Valley for a short notice meeting with Remy.

The request was a simple one; a message on her cell phone from Mark of all people, telling her that she was being invited to Snow Valley the next afternoon for a business meeting. There were no other details beyond the time, and it became quickly obvious that the appointment call was just a part of Mark's job, and nothing that he was specifically involved in. The conference room was blank, in the manner of all board rooms, dominated by a large table set up for tele and video conferencing, two big white boards, and two large flat screen monitors.

At the end of the table, sitting in a chair near the window and surrounded by files, was the man who had asked her to come into the office in the first place; Remy LeBeau. The Cajun was making notes quickly, sitting off to one side and only nodding as she came through the door. They had crossed paths in the mansion following Day Zero, but only in passing, and beyond the red on black eyes, there was little else personal that he'd offered of himself.

"Have a seat."

Morgan had nearly not come. She didn't really know most of these people even though she'd had contact with a number of the people employed by the place during the wake of the Gita explosion and Garrison's efforts to help out the New York City police during Apocalypse's crazed attempt to claim the city for mutant kind. There wasn't any explanation on the voicemail she'd gotten from Mark and there was no reason she could think of why Snow Valley would have need of her, for any of her professions.

Curiosity, however, got the best of her and won out so she showed up. LeBeau looked just as distant as he had in the mansion when she'd passed him, but it was more fitting now with him working as he was. Morgan silently took a seat after instructed to do so at the opposite end of the table. She wouldn't interrupt his note making. She was busy looking over both the room and its inhabitant, trying to glean any information she could about the man.

Remy put down his pen, pushing the file away from in front of him and leaned back in his chair. "Thanks for coming." His eyes sized her up quickly, leaving the feeling that they missed nothing in their scrutiny. "You are Morgan Lennox, formerly Vanessa Carlysle. Born in Boston, left after de death of you father--" Remy checked the file. "Burt. Somehow ended up across de Atlantic, working wit' de Mág Ealga; a small faux Irish mercenary group. According to my records, you nearly got youself killed running across de Pack in Africa? Dere's a page full of expletives from dat Domino 'bout you."

He looked back up from the papers, straight into her glare. "Dat all 'bout correct so far?"

There was no emotional response in her body language or on her face from either his visual scrutiny of her or his recital of her life history. It was hard to hold the smirk in check when he mentioned Domino and all her swearing about Morgan. "Almost. I was kicked out after my father died, which is slightly different than just leaving; I was purchased by Mág Ealga's leader; I only nearly got killed by the Pack when we took a job which involved me impersonating their youngest member." She smiled unapologetically. "Domino still has some baggage from that job. Understandable. It was personal for her, professional from me. She's not my biggest fan. Otherwise, yes, you're correct. I assume you're going to continue with my resume?" She was damn curious to know how anyone managed to connect Morgan to Vanessa, though. Adrienne knew, of course, but she hadn't used the name Carlysle since her mother kicked her out. She supposed they had ways, there were always ways, but they wouldn't have been easy to come across. Of that she was certain.

"Not especially. You did some mediocre work in Africa, Eastern Europe, and South America; much like de Pack, known for a certain level of professionalism, when a small unit was required. Shame dat you never had a big bastard like Dayspring, which would have put you in de big time. Since you left for Xavier's, Mág Ealga's been doing 'bout de same as dey were before." Remy closed the file. "So, I know dat you know how to handle a weapon, survive a few encounters, and according Wanda, you keep you head in a firefight. Strange dat wit' you powers, you still more of a grunt den an operative. Guess dat's what paid de bills, neh?"

Morgan ruffled internally at being called mediocre. She didn't know this guy or his resume so she didn't challenge him on it. There were a number of legal and illegal job descriptions which would make her look mediocre in comparison. For all she knew he was actually one of them so she kept the reaction in check. She didn't bother to point out that the Pack hadn't ever hit the big time any more than Mág Ealga had, or that the latter had lost their leader on the job a few years back. While all true it smacked of excuses and Morgan didn't get into the business of making those.

"Sometimes it's what paid the bills. Sometimes intel paid the bills." Morgan cocked her head to the side curiously. "Either you're just an unimpressed with that work I've done or you actually didn't dig it up for some reason." It was clean work she'd done. Kidnap, slip into their life, get what they needed, get out, replace the original who seemed to have lost time somehow but couldn't understand why. They were generally high enough up that it was too embarrassing to mention publicly but that didn't mean people close to the target wouldn't have known.

"Dere's not a lot dat I'm impressed wit' anymore." Remy said, pulling out another file from the pile and sliding it over. "Based on what I've put together, you seem like a largely independently trained gun in de field dat has other uses because of you powers. Being able to mimic someone right down to de genetic level means dat you don't really have to know much 'bout insertion or infiltration skills. Fortunately, what I'm looking for is a competent gun who has some field experience and can be trusted."

"No, I have other uses because I'm a good study. The powers are worth fuck all if you can't mimic the things that aren't genetic. Suddenly eating a cheeseburger when you've been a dedicated vegetarian gets you noticed and sometimes committed for personality disorders." He could be unimpressed all he liked, but he ought to be unimpressed for the right reasons rather than assuming she had no brain or capability beyond firing a gun and having a mutation.

"Dere's a very big difference between common sense and proper observational intrusion measures. When you can make someone believe something wit' out having to wear a face dat they already prepared to trust, dat's when you get to discover de difference." Remy's eyes flicked down to the file again, and back. "It's also not what I need or am interested in paying for. It's in Africa, back up on a basic house invasion, and potentially additional firepower depending on de results turned up by my people. Pay is above you usual scale, expenses, weapons and ammunition included, unless dere's something esoteric dat you require."

She didn't bother to shrug or argue the point. She thought they had very different experiences with gathering intel. She thought she definitely had the easier option but she didn't think it was as easy as LeBeau wanted to make it out to be. In the end his opinion was his opinion and she wasn't bothered by that any more than she was bothered by the guys who insinuated a pair of tits meant she couldn't kill you in one shot.

Morgan finally picked up the file, eyes sweeping over the information there. The job was beneath her. That was the simple truth of it. If she said as much aloud it would give an impression she wouldn't like following her around professionally so she kept that bit of information to herself. "This is not the kind of job I typically take," she told him, though did not close the file yet.

She paused, considering the offer. She hadn't planned to take any jobs outside of Xavier's until she'd left it. As it was she didn't know when she would be leaving Xavier's and school was out for the holidays soon. If all she would be doing otherwise was sitting around the mansion going out of her mind from boredom and dwelling on the loss of her friend then getting out and playing guard dog for a few folks she already knew well enough to at least be partial to remaining alive then why not? "From what dates until which date, approximately, do you expect to need me for?" It was not a yes, but it was certainly not a no.

"All de information is in de file. We'll pay for a minimum two week duration. You can consider it a bonus if we finish up quicker den dat." Remy said, sizing her up. She had the look that Whelan used to call 'line animal' to her, a background in special forces training and a power totally suited to espionage. It fit the fractured nature of her history that he'd found out so far. Behind his gaze, wheels were turning. "Looking to pair you wit' Jubilee. I want someone wit' a little more experience in direct combat backing her up. She still struggles wit' patience, and Remy want a cool head to rein her in."

"The little mini firecracker?" Morgan resisted the urge to raise her hand in a "yay high?" sort of manner. "Aye, I got attacked with her over in India, or we were technically in Pakistan at the moment? Anyway, the point is I'm familiar with her and I can work with her. It shouldn't be a problem putting us together at all." Morgan hadn't really liked the squirt's take charge attitude at the time because she didn't like people giving out orders when she had no reason to believe they were qualified to give them, but the kid had handled herself just fine and Morgan wasn't opposed to being in the field with her again.

"Bein. We'll be moving in a couple of days, so send over detailed information 'bout what you think you going to need, once you've had a chance to go over de file. De money will be transferred into whatever account you designate at de same time." Remy began to stack new business in front of himself on the table. "We also going to need some kind of designation for communications security. You can tell me now, or if you want to think 'bout it, give Mark de details when you send in you other details."

She didn't do work without her crew. Not ever. That meant she never had to worry about disclosing a name that couldn't follow her home to anyone who hired them because they didn't need to know. They gave the job, they paid for the job and that was the extent of her answering to whomever it was. Morgan closed the file and slid it closer to herself as she stood up. "Ness." The word was begrudgingly slipped from her lips but it was the only name she had to give him that wouldn't follow her home and that she wouldn't need time to adjust to. "You can use Ness for communications. I'll have the account and the list of potential supplies to you before the morning. Anything else you need from me at this time?"

Remy was silent for a moment, considering her pause. Why choose a designation that was similar to her real one? Where was the reaction coming from? He held her gaze, considering the possibilities for a moment, before filing the information away for the future. "Non, dat's it for now. If you need any more information, call into de office. De name's Remy LeBeau. In de field, you can call me Gambit."

Neither name rang a bell for Morgan but she filed them both away to look up the man's history. After all, she wanted to know who she was working for and mild association with a number of people he worked with wasn't enough information for her. "Aye, boss." Morgan nodded to him and left him to his work.