xp_logs | Operation: A Hammer To Fall

X-Force arrives in England,and Romany Wisdom updates them. London Time: Morning

Many thanks to Alasdair for Romany sockage!

Penderell's Oak was indistinguishable from any other generic pub, which was part of its attraction. It also was popular with the pagan community, which meant even Cammie could blend in. They slipped in by twos and threes, gathering in the cellar bar, meeting with the older dark-haired woman sitting at one of the tables. Amanda was last, and as she took the seat next to Romany, she leant over to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "Hey, Rom," she said, with a smile. "Good to see you."

"Hello, you." said Romany, with a warm smile. She looked round the group. "You know, when I called, I wasn't quite expecting so many of you. But thank you all for coming, and I'm sorry we're not meeting under better circumstances. I'll try and keep this as brief as I can." She took a sip of the mineral water sitting on the table in front of her.

"There are a group of very bad people that I've been keeping half an eye on for a few years now - the Destine family." She turned to Amanda. "I'm sorry to bring out old ghosts, but they're what's left of Rack's circle friends and acquaintances."

"Can see why dat would be a concern." LeBeau fiddled with the glass of bourbon, trying to get a feel for the seriousness of the situation. Romany Wisdom didn't have her brother's training, but she did share the same sense when something was out of place, and dangerously close to cascading into something much larger. The magical community was her beat, and that meant taking her seriously, regardless of how odd it might initially sound. "It might be a bit of overkill, but from de sounds of it, dis could get dangerously close to home quickly if it gets out of control. So, wit' Rack in de ground, what's dere game? Dis just a turf war or something larger in motion?"

"I'm honestly not sure. There's a man rejoicing in the unlikely name of Taboo, who has been going after them, with some force. No-one's died yet, but I think that's probably just luck. I thought about just leaving them to their little argument, but I don't want to chance that it will become something more serious, and drag others in."

She paused for a second, and sipped her water.

"If this was a turf war, though, I'd expect this Taboo to be going after their friends and associates as a first step, not them directly. If he's skipping the monkeys, that sort of suggest that he might have a grudge to settle with the organ grinders, but you'd probably all know more than me about that sort of thing."

"How far outside of this little spat can this be?" Marie-Ange asked. "If it is just... Taboo? really?" She shook her head, and gave Amanda a pleading "These are your people, what the hell?" look at the name. "If it was just him taking out this Destine family, then it would not be as much of an issue, and we know there is collateral damage. How big could it get? What sort of capabilities do these people have?"

Amanda had been quiet since the mention of Rack, only the fact she was biting her thumbnail fairly viciously an indication of how disturbed she was by the news. "If they're Rack's people, they won't give a shite about anyone but their own," she said quietly.

"And they'll be trained in the bad shite - spells created to hurt and kill. I don't want to take sides since it sounds like this Taboo is just as bad, but if the Destines have a beef with this bloke, they'll go all out to get him. And his family, if he has one."

"Hmmm." Romany set her drink down. "Funny you should mention family - some of the people I've been talking to tell me that the Destines are saying that there's a teenage girl that they've seen with him, but no-one's really sure what's going on there. Mind you, no-one's really heard anything about this Taboo, either. A few people have heard the name, but no-one I've spoken to can connect it to anyone or anything before about a year ago."

"Well, first step is probably figuring out who's hiding behind those pseudonyms, I'd think," Doug offered, his hands wrapped around a pint that he'd spent most of the evening nursing for show. "Ferreting out the things people don't want others to know is what we do, after all." He was already planning in his head, figuring out where to start, and so forth.

"Shouldn't need all of us for that," Jubilee noted, munching on a variety of fried foods she'd ordered from the bar, all of which seemed to have something to do with either cheese, bacon, breading, or a combination of all three. "Might be a good idea to put some eyes on this Destine family for the duration, maybe also figure out just what it is they've done to piss this guy off so badly. You know, other than being their adorable 'Let me make you feel like taking a week of baths by just being in your presence' selves."

"That is a good idea but we should probably also attempt to pair up anyone watching the Destine's with someone capable of using or at least understanding magic," Wanda responded, shifting her pint to her other hand as she leaned back in her chair. "Someone who can catch the subtler magics - the last thing you want is to have your mark make a movement you think is innocent only to find yourself with a magical whammy on the way." She might be the magical equivalent of a teacup, or whatever it was that Amanda liked to call them, but Wanda was at the point in her career with the weird and magical that she knew her stuff. That gave them a few options, at least.

"Yeah, subtle," Cammie muttered, trying not to snort. That was them, picking up the fucking subtle with the world's most unsubtle group. Thought right now, she'd be happy with a drink and a fist fight. The latter at least she'd be able to get one way or another.

Remy just nodded. "Romany, I'm going to leave Amanda and Nico wit' you for the next few hours. Cover everything dat is relevant 'bout dere magic, habits, and potential goals. De rest of you can start wit' finding both sides. If de Destines want dis Taboo, I want to know why. Doug, you've got an hour to get a comm centre up and running."

"You'll have it," Doug said briskly. It would be up in under forty-five minutes, he promised himself silently. He wasn't going to screw up being back in the field, that was certain.

“Do you know what’s more volatile than an untrained amateur trying to get a job done?” North asked. Rhetorically, of course. He had taken the seat farthest from Romany and closest to the door. “A magical untrained amateur with a personal grudge trying to get a job done. Innocents tend to die.” The German man shook his head, clearly not a fan of magic. “Allow me to volunteer myself for intel duty on this one.”

"I have people I can talk to in the Blue and Red Courts," said Emma, from where she was lurking as inconspicuously as one could in the darkest corner of a pub booth, while wearing what was a frankly enormous hat. "The Hellfire Club here in London tends towards the magical. They may be able to assist with information."

Amanda wrinkled her nose at the mention of the Hellfire Club, but held her peace. "Angie, you, North, Jubes and Doug once he's done can take the more mundane stuff. Work on this Taboo, who he is, who this girl is with him. Wanda, Nico, Cammie, Remy and I will tackle the magical haunts - they're more likely to talk to one in the know."

Marie-Ange glanced at Doug, who was already tapping at his phone and reached across the table and plucked a chip from Jubilee's pile. "I agree, and we can blend into the 'mundane stuff', as you say, a little better, on short notice. Perhaps we can find out who he was before he was Taboo. If he has only in the scene for a year or so, they have to be in some kind of system. Even magic users have NHS records."

One team looks for information on Taboo and Topaz…

Jubilee eyed herself in the car mirror for the moment before slapping North's hand away from the radio station, "House rules, North. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."

She grinned at him before turning her eyes back to the road, hand tapping on the wheel in time with the music currently playing. She'd probably change the station soon anyway, but the opportunity to use that line had been way too good to resist.

"Young ones these days. No respect whatsoever for the delicate eardrums of their elders," North lamented, hand reaching out again, this time for the volume dial. He tapped a manilla folder against his thigh, fingers stroking a freshly shaved chin as he stared out the window. "Let's hope Taboo was a sociable man."

"Or if not socialable, at least very bad about covering his tracks re: browsing history/record keeping," Jubilee returned, moving carefully into the early morning traffic. She hadn't driven in London before, and had absolutely no desire to get into some sort of accident. Not only would it completely screw with their ability to do her job, Mandy would never let her live it down. "You got any particular plan for when we get there?"

"SOP and play by ear," North replied, noting that they were arriving at their destination. "You know how it goes. Get in, talk to people, play with computers and get out before the evening rush hour. Story is that Taboo is my university classmate who, last I heard, worked for the company and I am eager to catch up with him about our good ole' college days. We should get access to the company personnel database as part of our orientation tour. Talk to people over lunch if you can, see what you can find out about him as a person, what his behaviour was like before he disappeared and scout out any possible reasons for going AWOL."

"I love it when you start talking all professional like, North. Totally makes me think we're in some kind of 'Bourne Identity' spy thriller," Jubilee replied, pulling into an empty park about equal distance between the entrances to the office and the road. "Although, you know, with less of the random explosions and people trying to kill us. Like, dodging bullets is so late 70's James Bond, and Sean Connery is totes old enough to be my Grandfather."

“You watch too many spy movies,” he replied with a half-smile, shrugging on a business jacket as he alighted and shut the door. “Gives you too many ideas. Although random explosions are still a great deal of fun.”

North passed Jubilee the folder as they crossed the parking lot towards the office. Long, confident strides took them straight through security and right into the Human Resources department within a quarter of an hour. Nice and easy. Just like the smile North directed towards the HR officer in charge of getting them all settled in.
The Human Resources employee was young, fresh-faced and looked like he could use two cups less coffee every day, the way his hands jittered around his desk. He flipped through his printouts and frowned. "I have your paperwork, but not your assistant's." he shuffled them another few times and shook his head. "Ever so sorry. I will get that setup for you right away, sir. It's only just, it's my first month, and my training was, well, just so." he gestured at his desk and the piles and piles of folders. "It's a fair thing you're here, the department could use the help."

"Not to worry, I've got the paper work right here," Jubilee replied, her normal Californian accent softened around the edges into 'generic American'. She pulled a set of papers out of the laptop bag she'd been carrying and handed them over. "I called ahead a few days ago and got your Receptionist to fax them over to me when I realised Mr. Bauer would need my assistance."

She caught herself at the last as she was going to continue on, smiling gently at the harried looking employee in what would hopefully look like shared sympathy. Most businesses had generic 'welcome to the company' paperwork packages, things you gave out to new employees without too much difficulty and if they decided to question I.T as to why her log-ins to the system hadn't yet been created, there were always the standard 'normal person' arrogance of 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I just thought that was something you could, you know, turn on or something. So sorry to be such a bother.'.

“We have the time, no need to sweat the small details just yet,” North agreed congenially without a hint of his German heritage in his voice. “You can pop down to I.T. before giving us the welcome, orientation tour and introductions. I’m sure Carrie’s log in will be ready by the time we’re back from lunch.”

The man glanced around the cluttered office, overtly sizing it up before his gaze swung back to the younger man. “You’ve been here a month? Do you know a Lucas that works here?”

The young man was so busy flitting around, he almost missed the question. "Sorry, what?" He blinked, a bit owlishly. "No, sorry, name doesn't ring a bell. So sorry."

Thankfully, everyone liked good office gossip. And the man who happened to be walking by at the time was no exception. "You don't mean Ashdown, do you? What you lookin' for him for?"

"We've worked with him previously," Jubilee noted with a friendly but efficient smile. "It's always easier getting to know an office and it's people when you have someone you already know, don't you think?"

"Well I'm afraid you're outta luck on that note," the nosy employee informed them. "Ashdown disappeared a good year back. We just came in one day and his desk was empty, resignation sittin' there. Haven't heard from him since."

"Huh. Doesn't sound like Lucas," North frowned, head cocked to the side as he regarded the other employee, looking faintly puzzled. "He and I go way back, even if we did fall out of touch. Last I heard, he was working here, all happy like to be providing for his beautiful wife and kid."

"You're really out of touch, aren't you?" The man replied, vaguely amused. "The missus is six feet under these days. Kid found her dead in the kitchen one day. Ashdown went a bit funny after that. Not that I blame him," he added quickly. "M'sure anyone would. He quit not long after that."

"That's too bad," Jubilee replied, giving the standard 'smile of politeness' you gave when being told that someone had gone off the deep end into crazytown and escaped into the wild. Looks like they were going to have to look at little deeper to find anything out, and it wasn't going to be from this guy. "So, we should get started then."

******

Doug pushed his glasses up his nose and gave an audible sniff as the secretary failed to notice him and Marie-Ange immediately as they entered the office. Part of playing a part, at least for Doug, lay in creating all those details that might never come out in the short time an identity was used, and then submerging in them. In his mind, Percy Blakely (the social worker identity he was currently occupied) was an officious, punctilious, and several other annoying adjectives ending in -ious. When the secretary still didn't acknowledge them, he made a soft 'ahem, ahem' noise that sounded like it could have come from Dolores Umbridge.

Which was immediately followed by a grunt as an elbow drove into his side, and his companion leaned across the counter. "Pardon, but could you direct us to the dean of students, or your headmistress, please?" Marie-Ange said, bright smile and messy bangs flopping into her face. A once-professional bun was ruined by the last vestiges of dyed-in streaks in the bangs, and a pen stuck through the bun. "We made an appointment, but we're quite lost, and I think Percy lost the number of the person we're meant to call?" She stuck a hand over the counter. "Dora White, and this is Percy Blakely. "We're from Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services?"

Marie-Ange using contractions, even in the context of a cover, was a novel thing, and Doug had to fight an amused quirk of his lips at it. Percy Blakely was amused by...probably not much of anything. The secretary finally looked up, and tossed her head in the direction of one of the hallways leading off of the reception area. "Headmistress' office is that way. She's expecting you." And then she was back to whatever it was she was doing.

Doug stalked by with another, louder sniff, scribbling a note on the small pad in his hand. He rapped sharply at the indicated door, and a brusque "Enter," came from within. A stern, middle-aged woman sat behind a desk when they entered. "Ah, Mr. Blakely, Ms. White, just on time. Good," she said, pointing at a pair of chairs where they were clearly to sit.

Marie-Ange sat down in hers gracelessly and started digging through an oversized bag. "To cut to the chase, we're trying to cut down on the backlog of cases in review, and we wanted to, well, check in with you on Vimala Ashdown? Our records say she is enrolled here." She handed a folder

over and smiled. "It should be routine, yeah? Just fill out that she's settled in right, and we'll be out of your hair in a shake."

The headmistress took the folder, examined it at arm's length, then handed it back. "I'm afraid your records are incorrect, young lady. Vimala has not attended this school for some time."

Doug blinked owlishly. Clearly 'Percy' had no idea how to react to things being out of their proper order. "Beg pardon?"

"Yes, her father withdrew her after her mother passed," the woman replied. "Dreadful tragedy, such a lovely woman. She and...Luca, yes, that was his name, doted ever so much on Vimala. That was..." Her eyes widened. "Goodness me, has it really been a whole year? Where does the time go?"

"She's been withdrawn? Did they move? Do you know where her father enrolled her?" Marie-Ange went all wide-eyed and bit her lip. "No one told us, we'll be in ever so much trouble if the paperwork's not right. International adoptions going bad, they're all over the Daily Mail, you know how it is." She bit a thumbnail and looked at Percy. "Perce, did we get any papers on the mum's death? I didn't think we got any and you're usually so up on the paperwork." She turned to the headmistress and nodded. "He really is. I think he files for fun, it's brilliant."

'Perce' sniffed disdainfully at his partner, but flipped several pages back on his notepad. "Yes, Alice Ashdown. You're saying that Mr. Ashdown withdrew Vimala?"

"Yes, and did not leave any record of their moving or where he was enrolling her. Most irregular," was the reply, with a disapproving frown to match Doug's. "It wouldn't surprise me if he's homeschooling her. But unfortunately we haven't the personnel to check on them. Perhaps you might..." she trailed off pensively.

"You don't even have a number for them?" Marie-Ange said. "I mean, most teenagers have a mobile, at least you must have that?" She twisted the hem of her shirt and looked hopefully at the headmistress. "Anything would help, maybe some of her old mates might know?"

"Vimala mostly kept to herself. Very quiet - I honestly can't think of any 'mates' she might have had." The headmistress turned her head sadly. "I'll see if Miranda can't find the Ashdowns' information for you. She'll have it on your way out."

Doug recognized a dismissal when he heard one, and was up ramrod straight with his pad tucked under an arm and hand out to shake briskly in one whole motion. "Thank you for your time, ma'am."

…While the second looks for information on the Destines.

"Just a head's up - stay polite and don't throw your weight around," Amanda warned at the door of the rather ordinary looking second hand book shop. "Folks're still edgy after the whole kidnapping thing years ago and they'll fire off a spell without warning if they think you're a threat."

"They also tend to be wary of strangers to being with," Wanda chimed in. "It took me quite some time, and one hell of a stunt with the Astral Plane, in order for them to really trust me. They seem unsurprisingly wary of nonmagic users sticking their noses in where it doesn't belong; even magic users get a bit of the side eye."

"This is the most fucking retarded thing I have ever fucking heard," Cammie muttered in return to both of them.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Amanda murmured in response. Bringing a non-believer probably wasn't a good idea, but there was a perverse streak in her that wanted to see Cammie eat those words. "You ready, Grasshopper?"

Nico contained the urge to kick Cammie. Just barely though. That was the best way to get themselves in the middle of a magical skirmish they didn't have the time to waste on. "I'm ready", said as she shot another glare at Cammie. "Maybe I should keep an eye on miss magic-is-silly over here." Because then she might have a valid excuse to kick her, just a bit.

"Magic is fucking silly. This is like Harry Fucking Potter only without the gay ass headmaster," Cammie returned.

Cammie abruptly found herself fetched up against the bricks and nose to nose with the particularly unimpressed expression of Remy LeBeau. His grip on her collar held her against the cold stone, as he spoke low and quickly.

"Remy been operating under de assumption dat you not stupid since I agreed to give you a chance. You have seen and read for youself just how dangerous magic can be. So, you can keep your eyes open and do de job you've been trusted wit'. Or, you can keep running you mouth, kill dis lead, and den fuck off back to Xavier's wit' de knowledge dat anything dat we didn't stop and dose killed as a result are your fault. Dat still seem silly to you?" His tone was hard; harder than she'd experienced before, and it was suddenly very easy to remember that Remy's past included two decades as one of the greatest killers on the planet.

Cammie blanched and shook her head, "That's not what I... I mean... fuck," she muttered the last. Sure there was shit in the world she didn't understand and she had been dealing with it in the way she dealt with everything and had forgotten that here, it wouldn't fly.

"Dis isn't a game, Cammie. If you don't get dat through you head quick, dis world will kill you before you see it coming." He let go of his grip. He had been slow to bring Cammie along in the field, between a hundred other problems that had be out there to deal with, it seemed the safest one to put off. It had just been proved that was a mistake on his part, and his harsh reaction to pull her into line masked the responsibility to get her trained or get rid of her that he was behind on. "Now, let's go see what dis one has to say, neh?"

Beyond the first few shelves, the book shop became dimmer and dimmer, dustier and dustier. The shelves crowded together, overloaded with dog-eared paperbacks and cracked leather bindings. At the back was a small counter, strewn with dirty glasses, empty wine bottles, open books and various post-its with notes scribbled on them in a hurried, messy hand. Amanda sighed, then reached out and pinged the bell that sat on the corner of the counter, just once. The sharp "ping" hung in the air like an affront.

"Quality bell that is, Austrian. Worth twenty quid if it's worth a toss. Hear that echoes. Calls it resonance they do. Tell you what; you're pretty and Tits here is showing them off, so let's say a bob for the ring and we settle, what, thirty quid on the bell. Austrian craftsmanship, I mentioned, right? Right. Bag that up for you. Anything else?" The man that appeared was small and spare; a bantam-weight in a slightly oversized bowler and a greasy tweed.

Amanda sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Actually, we need quite a bit more than that," she said, before snapping her fingers and summoning her werelight. "Can we talk in the back room?"

"Private like? I can do private. Ten quid an hour, three hour minimum, up front. Tell you what. Because I like you, let's say forty for the bell, five bob for the ring, you pay fifty up front and we're all free and clear on that chinwag, ta? Cash credit - can't do the debit. Doesn't work. I said to them, what can I do with the receipt, and they think I'd believe they pay me. A bank, right? No thanks. So, back room, have a chat, share a glass of wine - ten quid and a steal at that - so that's, what, two-twenty and we'll be off." He smiled with a mouthful of yellow teeth, the remarkable patter accompanied by oddly calculating leers at even the unrevealing necklines of the ladies present.

The man reminded her of far too many people, Wanda thought with a tired irritation. The temptation to slam him against the nearest wall and be done with it was high but while their time was limited, her wallet was not at the moment. She pulled out her wallet and the amount he'd oh so kindly requested, plus an additional fifteen, and held it out to their 'host'. "This should cover a serious conversation in the back," Wanda said, dry emphasis on serious.

He took the money, with the impression of counting it the second he took hold and gave them an elaborate bow. "Chester Allwaithe at your service then. Until the money runs out. Was clear ';bout that, right? Yeah, ta, in the back."

"Who the hell is Tits and why isn't he speaking in English anymore." It wasn't exactly a question, but a complaint, and it was directed at both Amanda and Wanda -who Nico decided had enough A's for the whole team together-, whoever was less annoyed, it was hard to tell. She really didn't trust this man, and she knew nobody did but they needed information, and he looked weaselly enough to have some. Nico was half hoping she had a chance to whack him with the Staff of One for it.

"Best not really want an answer to that first part," Wanda said dryly, following Allwaithe as he wound his way through the shop. The place was very similar to many others she'd been in - dark, dingy, a little dangerous in the darker corners, and crowded. She did her very best not to crack her head on any low hanging items or knock over precarious piles.

As they followed Allwaithe back, Remy remained at the front of the shop, eyes on the street. The others knew more about this world than him, and LeBeau couldn't shake the vague feeling that they were missing something in their approach; some piece that defined what was really going on. He waited and watched, silently. With a gesture he indicated Cammie remain too - he wanted her close for now.

"Take a chair, not that one. 's the cat's. Take this one, luv. 19th century craftsmanship - came out of the Peterhof with a handful of gemstones and the Czarina's enchanted dildo hidden in the cushion. For sale - two hundred, no less. One-eighty, perhaps, but worth two." He dropped into a threadbare stuffed seat with a protest from the springs and laced his fingers over his stomach. "Your dime, innit? What did you want a chinwag 'bout?"

"A family, of sorts, or a clan called the Destines that run with the magical crowd in London," she responded. "We are trying to locate them, see where they might be holding up at. Have you heard of them?"

"Oh. Them. Always that type innit? Swanks 'bout, busts up the odd hedge mage for fun. No profit innit. Told them once I did. Business of magic is business. Coins. Cash. Like this place, highest quality goods inside and outside London. Who offers to burn it down?" Chester said. "Madmen, just like their mentor. Nasty piece of work he was. Comes in one day, says he needs to buy a girl. Look like I keep girls on the rack? No, but Rack says he's already got it lined up, needs a binding spell. Broke two me teeth as I was writing him the receipt. Might have added an extra zero, might not have. The point stands."

Amanda took a breath, inhaling through clenched teeth. "You do good work," she said, voice trembling just a little. "The binding spell worked even after Rack kicked it."

"Buys for quality, as you like. Rack understood that. His little adopted family, not as much. Been shaking down the community, throwing around their weight. Killed one of my suppliers not long along. Lovely woman, excellent alchemist. I have some of her stock left. Price has gone up - supply and demand, demand and supply and all that. Might be persuaded to make a deal."

Nico wasn't entirely sure what she was hearing, or whether she was meant to hear it, but seeing how Amanda had reacted, it wasn't the time to act upon it. Talking with that man was like taking every unnecessary turn instead of going on a straight life, and she was discovering her patience needed some improvement. "Better stick to the deal you already made", said as she leaned back, trying to cool her mind. "So, they haven't been particularly covert?"

"Might say, might say. Somes'll tell you that they're a bunch of yabbo psychos, getting off tossing 'bout magic and then getting the boot in. Not to judge, mind you. This isn't cricket, after all. Seems in this world to hurt people, somes to make money. Room for all types." Allwaithe sat forward, elbows braced on his knees. "There's one more thing, if course you let me feel the fibre of your fabric..." He rubbed his thumb and fingers together; an apparently universial sign for more money.

Another twenty quickly disappeared out of Wanda's hand. "And, what, exactly is this 'one more thing'?"

"They've been asking 'bout a girl. Her father too, but a girl first. Young. Too young for it to be any good."

"Enough of the creepy, Allwaithe." Amanda almost growled. His words - and his association with Rack - were evoking ugly memories. "What about this girl? What do they want with her?"

"That's where the book ends. No more information. Nil. Zilch. Especially not being up at the old Birchwilde Manor."

Nico rolled her eyes. "Well, that's cute." At least they knew where to look now. "So, let's get out of here before he tries to sell us a chair. Again."

Amanda nodded and turned abruptly to go. She'd had enough wandering down memory lane for one night.