Inside job? Questions?

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

An attack on one of the Guild teams that was watching Shirow Ishihara leaves a survivor, and many questions for the Guild, and for Marie-Ange.

Warning: Descriptions of torture. (Not explicit and it is one sentence in an early paragraph of the log.)



The little room did not look substantially different from a doctor's office. Other than the straps on the exam table, and even those were standard issue - for exam tables in prisons.

Of course, the table was in an actual exam room in an actual clinic, which helped the authenticity substantially. That was, of course, the only thing that was standard. The clinic had been closed for several hours - no facelifts or botox injections would be happening this late at night.

The man on the table was still partially dressed in his street clothes, rather than a sterile gown, and not very many plastic surgery patients had to be strapped down to the table. Exactly zero plastic surgery patients had tens devices attached to their fingers. And the two men questioning him were certainly not doctors.

Marie-Ange had let herself into the clinic - getting the electronic door code had been as simple as knowing who to ask. The Guild owned the building, and the clinic, and the doctors who worked there, and several of the clients too.

She waited outside the exam room until the two men questioning the third paused. If she was going to be a bother, she had decided she might as well be polite about it - interuppting someone else's job while they were in the middle of it was rude - and also dangerous, if they were trigger happy.

"Your side project is proving a little more interesting den we thought." Javier said, nodding as the current was switched back on and the man on the table resumed his tortured screaming. The hair had already burnt off of his hands and forearms, and the flesh around his fingers was showing the mottled flesh that occured when the subcutaneous fat was melting under the skin. "Dis salope was part of a team dat ambushed de spotters we had on dat Shirow. You feel like telling me why watching him is so important?"

"Do you suppose you could postpone the screaming temporarily?" Marie-Ange asked. "I can explain, but I think I would like to do so away from prying ears." Or minds, or clever devices or anything else she could not necessarily account for. Javier was at least trustworthy enough that she could tell him some of what was going on, even if it would not be prudent to explain everything. "Also I have to ask, how is it you can stand the smells?" It was not just the burnt hair. It was everything else, plus the burnt hair.

Javier just shrugged, his scarred face impassive. He clicked off the flow of electricity, and lashed the man across the temple with a six inch steel sap he kept in his pocket, knocking him cold. "He'll wake up in an hour or so. We can go back to work on him den." He said, before waving her towards a place to sit and talk.

"Merci." It did not hurt to be polite, even if Marie-Ange felt that asking someone to stop torturing another person was a very strange thing to be polite about.

The breakroom was not far away, and the Guild owning the building meant that it was likely to be surveillance-free, at least from outside sources. Internal leaks were obviously a problem, and Marie-Ange was just not sure how to account for those. She sat down in one of the chairs, comparing it in her head, unfavorably so, to the chairs at the Snow Valley office in New York. "It is not just that Mr. Ishihara is family to the head of the Forger's Guild. He is going to play some part in a conflict, and I am hoping that it can be avoided entirely."

"Shirow Ishihara is a doctor of some type. Known Zoe and her adoptive parents for a long time. Dey not players de same way as de Marceaux or Baptiste want to be. Also know dat Shirow has nothing to do wit' de Guild business, and barely anything wit' her sister. She won't endanger de Forger's Guild if someone tries to get at her through him." Javier said, his voice rough and accent thick, but showing a surprising depth of knowledge and insigfht behind it. "Best dat I can figure, dey might distract her somewhat from another goal by taking him or his family, but dat's about it. I can't see it being worth de costs and risks."

"I know." Marie-Ange said, sounding just as tired of explaining this as she felt. "And I also know that telling you to simply trust me would be foolish. But at the moment, all that I have is that he is a prominent force in a future that I have been seeing for months." She held up a hand, stalling any comments. "Which yes, I know, the Guild is spending a great deal of time and money on my hunch and perhaps not getting quite the return on their investment yet. But yet, Shirow was attacked and had your people not been there, he would have been taken. So there is something."

"Something, but unlikely Guild business." Javier got up and retrived a thermos from the counter, pouring two cups of coffee that from Marie-Ange's experience was black, strong, and laced with chicory, making it easily in the running with Moira's as the worst coffee ever. "But de more time we spend on it, de more likely it is dat we get blamed for anything dat happens to him."

"It is Guild business if they are using your people to try to kill him, yes?" Marie-Ange drank the coffee, but made a face at it. She'd already gotten her fair share of ribbing about her tastes in coffee, if Javier wanted to continue, that was fine by her. She was still not going to turn down free coffee - she needed the caffeine more than not these days, because she certainly was not sleeping. "Or if Daniel's sister.." Another sour face, but obviously not at the sludge that pretended to be coffee. "is behind the attacks?"

"Possible too." He muttered. After fifty years of Guild politics, he knew well what family members were capable of doing to each other. "De main problem is dat de return doesn't justify de costs, and when a situation like dat appears, dere's something dat we're not seeing. What advantage does Shirow's death provide Belladonna? Dat bitch might be crazy, but she's not stupid, and she wouldn't risk something for nothing."

"I thought that was why you were questioning the gentlemen in the other room." Marie-Ange said flatly. "Or has he managed to keep silent despite the creative use of electricity?"

"He knows what his job is, dat's all." Javier turned and spat into the dust. "All he knows is dat he's being paid and de recon on de job. Unfortunately, dis little band's 'leader' was killed in de fighting, but I doubt even he'd know more den who his cut out was. Dere might be something dat he's seen, or pick up on wit'out realising it, which is why we'll keep going, but he's 'bout as useful a source of intelligence as grilling a new recruit on de latest top secret battle plans. We're dealing wit' professionals."

For a lack of anything better to do, Marie-Ange finished her mug of coffee, trying to ignore the taste and wondering if it was the reason why so many people from New Orleans seemed to always be in a bad mood. "What do you recommend? I do not think that I should ignore what I saw of the future, but I do not want to overstep the generosity that the Guild has already granted to me."

"Dat's not my place. You agreement is wit' pere Daniel, not me. But-" He rubbed his jaw, considering. "Think dat you best to look at it outside of de whole Guild business. Whatever coming might be all wrapped up in de Guilds, but dat doesn't mean dat's where it's coming from. Might be dat Shirow's de target for reasons wit'out anything to do wit his sister."

"Perhaps." Marie-Ange frowned into her now empty mug. "Perhaps I am thinking too narrowly." Or perhaps she had interpreted wrongly, or had already changed something by coming here. "Regardless.. would you be very put upon if I wanted to ask your guest some questions of my own?"

Javier shrugged. "Dat batard isn't going any where. Come on back, and let's see what he has to say while he still has a tongue."