AAG - Storytelling Part 5 (Saturday Night)

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Adrienne tells Wyngarde how the gang tricked some assassins.


"With all my people in place," Adrienne continued to explain, "it was time to put them to work, making sure they circumvented the assassins you hired to kill the Blue King. I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but telepaths are extremely useful. Even more so if they're actually good at it, unlike your telepaths, Jason," she smirked. "And the ones I know? They're the best."

***
It had been innocuous; a waiter with a message for Quentin Templeton had sought him out to make the delivery. The Blue King's side of the court was merry indeed tonight. His gamble to enmesh Conrad Strathdee into bringing down Emma Steed had worked perfectly, and for the cost of exposing some of his own highly illegal intelligence to the Red Bishop, the Blue Queen was about to fall. With only a weak Red King opposing him, he would of course forget all about the deal once Strathdee looked for aid in toppling Sir Alan Wilson. Either Strathdee would need to sell himself completely into his power to earn the chair, or Quantin would 'expose' his co-conspirator at the point Sir Alan looked the weakness, binding the man to him with gratitude.

He took the letter with bare interest, reading the short message and excusing himself on his way into the Blue Court corridors.

Templeton was doing his best to hide his glee but it was fairly obvious how happy he was with recent events. Things were unfolding pretty much exactly as he had hoped, and soon he would reap the rewards from the deceitful seeds he'd sown. Clutching a goblet of fine wine in one hand, and a cane in the other, he turned at the sound of a new arrival in the corridors.

"Milord," Doug Ramsey said dryly.  An exactly perfect amount of overt deference to a Court King, but underlaid with...something.  An American brashness, a disdain for hereditary nobility, perhaps.  After all, he was a colonial, and the son of a pair of middle-class lawyers. Upper middle class, to be sure, but nowhere near Templeton in terms of social standing, and the extremely veiled disrespect said that he knew it.  "My Queen desires to speak with you.  Privately, hence the message."  He stepped aside from the doorway.

"Very well then." Taking the note, Templeton then tried his best to ignore Ramsey's presence, approaching his Queen's desire to speak as the inconvenience it truly was. He was in the middle of quietly celebrating his scheme, after all. Sighing, he decided to indulge her this time. Maybe it was out of pity, or perhaps he just wasn't thinking straight in his glee, but whatever it was he decided to go and see what she wanted from him. Begging for his favour in some fashion, doubtlessly.

However, stepping through the door, he realized that she wasn't alone. Christian Kane closed the door behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Quentin, good of you to join us."

Emma nodded her thanks to Christian for keeping the Blue King in check and then turned her attention to Templeton. "You're going to die tonight, Quentin. At the hands of a number of supremely skilled assassins who have been provided with the capacity to get through any and all of your defenses. Shut your mouth, dear boy," she added absently. "You look like a peasant with it hanging open like that. That, at least, is what the assassins are going to believe. We have some other plans for them. And other plans for you. Now that you've shown us how fond you

Christian's grip tightened, forcing Templeton to sit in a chair. "You've been a bad boy, Templeton. Some of those assets belong to British Intelligence. We have a word for that sort of activity." Kane stepped back as Betsy slipped into the room. "Get your fill, Miss Braddock. They need to believe they are killing the Blue King."

A purple hue lit the backdrop as Elisabeth Bradock approached Quentin Templeton. Before he could protest, she brought her fist down and with it her psychic knife. It slammed into his skull, the culmination of her telepathic abilities ransacked the confines of Templeton's mind. She pushed against any resistance he instinctively brought up and pilfered through his subconscious. To the outside world, the image of Betsy flickered, morphing into something, someone else entirely. The Blue King. There were two of them. The standing Quentin Templeton looked to Kane. "Psychic signature and projection assimilated." 

"You only have a few minutes before the assassins arrive, Ms Braddock. Godspeed." Kane said with a nod, taking a seat next to the senseless Quentin. Betsy's blade had both rendered him senseless and would wipe his memory of the meeting. Kane exchanged a look with Emma. "And with the rest of our people in place, I'd say we have a surprise to bring to the big meeting."

Emma looked down at Kane and the now unconscious Blue King. "Bringing up details of a plot to overthrow a Court member by nefarious dealings, double-crossing and treachery? That's hardly a surprise, Christian. More like business as usual. Then again, the fact we're about to thwart it so neatly and in public might raise an eyebrow or two." She smiled. "Someone may even go so far as to spill their tea."


Adrienne tells Wyngarde how she hired some assassins with the help of some former Guild members.


"Of course, the assassins were faking killing the fake Blue King the whole time," Adrienne pointed out.

"Don't be insane. Those assassins were contracted through the Guild. You don't have any ties to them. The only one that does is Belladonna, and her brother hates her."
 
"Actually, Belladonna isn't the only one that has ties to them," Adrienne corrected in her best schoolteacher voice. "I happen to have a friend and an acquaintance who are former members of the Guild. They have ties."

"You're lying." 
 
Adrienne shrugged. "Am I?"

***
“You’ll forgive Remy if he thinks dat de courts of de Hellfire Club going after each other is like an early birthday present, neh?” LeBeau leaned back in his chair, watching Adrienne closely as the woman tried to explain the situation. Marie-Ange sat next to her, brought in the second that the younger Frost had mentioned Assassins.

"Sure, I forgive you," Adrienne mumbled, though she sounded a little impatient with him. "You can think whatever you want. I don't really care. If this works, I'll be out and they can keep going after each other until Hell freezes over as far as I'm concerned. What I care about is what you guys think of the plan," she stated, turning to Marie-Ange now.

"I think if it works it will be quite the coup." Marie-Ange said. "I think the ripple effect may be interesting to watch in the coming months, but if it puts you out of harm's way..." She shrugged. "More benefit to us to watch them scramble, and they lose a resource they think they own." She turned towards Remy and raised a finger. "Late birthday. Your birthday was last month. But Adrienne can give it to me for my birthday early, which is not until August, and I will share."

"Daniel isn't going to like dis. Believe what you will, but Guilds take contracts seriously. As odd as it sounds, de only real currency dat dey have is dere word." Remy said, considering the angles. He would rather clear the situation by taking out the Black Court as a whole, but she was right. Her plan would set them back significantly in their abilities to act against them. Considering the threat Belladonna represented, that wasn't a bad thing. "Dere's going to be a cost involved. Dat something dat you able to handle, if it comes to it?"

"What kind of cost are you talking about?" Adrienne queried. "General ballpark idea, I mean. Like, are we talking money? Are we talking I need to go off someone for the Assassins in return? Do espionage work for someone else now?"

"Not the second one." Marie-Ange answered. "Not unless I misunderstood my time there very badly. Money, a favor or two." Or three or four. "But understand that Daniel is more likely to take favours out of us than you. You are an unknown, he knows what Remy and I, and the team, are capable of. If you have the money, that will help."

"How much money are you guys thinking?" Adrienne inquired suspiciously. It wasn't as if she had much choice, of course- she was in this now, too deep to turn back. But it would be nice to know if she could cover the amount herself or if she'd have to ask for a loan from Emma.

"It won't be cheap, but we might be able to barter him down. Daniel may hate us, but he loves de fact dat we're allies up to a point. Gives him leverage over his sister incase she ever tries to take de Guild back. We'll need to cover de cost of de contract in full, plus six or seven figures for de inconvenience. Prices are usually set depending how important the target is. If dis works, you think you could cover several million?"

Adrienne winced visibly. She wouldn't have if they'd been in mixed company, but she didn't care if Remy and Marie-Ange saw it. "Shit. I'm losing most of my liquid assets to the FBI when I give them Wyngarde." She stared at her shoes for a moment, but knew that delaying wasn't going to change what she needed to say. "I'll have to cover it by selling my company. But yeah, I can cover it. Hey Marie-Ange, you wanna buy an international modeling agency?" she joked.

"If I had three million dollars, I would consider it." Marie-Ange said, with a slight smile. "But I would probably just hire you to play What Not To Wear for the entire office if I had that money. Amanda owns seventeen identical pairs of black pants. Jubilee wears neon." She made a face, and continued. "Are there buyers for your company that would really grab it that fast? I could try to talk Daniel into buying your modeling agency, but I am not so sure the world needs a real version of Zoolander. Having to wait for the sale might be tricky."

"I'll guarantee de money." Remy said quietly. "Daniel knows dat if something happens, Gambit is de ultimate piece he could shop for a fee. Although, I'd appreciate it if you made sure de money came through. 'ro gets angry when I'm out of town to murder a head of state."

Shocked, Adrienne could only stare at him for what felt like ages, mouth open but unable to form words. She knew Remy's history, what he'd put behind him. But now he was offering to take the risk of going back into that life? For her?! "I... you... really? You'd do that for me? I-I don't... wow," she mumbled. "Thank you. You don't have to worry about anything," she assured him, arms up in a placating gesture, "it'll sell. One of my competitors has been wanting to drive me out of the business for years. He'll rob me blind on the sale with all that the company's been through lately, but I'll get enough to cover the contract. I promise. And Marie-Ange," she added with a smile, "you don't have to hire me to play that game at the office. I'll do it for free. Gladly"

"Do not lead me into temptation." Marie-Ange said. "But I will take a shopping trip instead. Shall we call? Have this done and over with, so that we know what this will cost?" There was always the small chance that they'd predicted Daniel's motivations slightly wrong, and she would prefer to know that sooner than later.

"Might as well. Find out just how much de devil is going to ask for." Remy nodded to MA. "Get him on de line."

"Tell him it is important, and that Marie-Ange Colbert is calling, with Remy in conference call." Marie-Ange said calmly. The phone clicked, indicating that they were on hold, and she sat back in her chair. "If it does not go through I will call his personal number." She hoped that would not be necessary. That felt too much like asking for a personal favour and she sometimes wondered if she was still a bit in debt to Daniel Boudreaux - best not to add any more interest on to that.

"Sha, good of you to call. When my secretary picked up the phone, I could distinctly sense dat sweet ass on de other end of the line."

"Remy flattered, Daniel." LeBeau said drily and it earned a chuckle.

"I keep telling her, homme, dat dere's a much better job waiting for her." Daniel Boudreaux delighted in making people uncomfortable. In his line of work, it often bought you and extra second to react, and a second was all that he needed sometimes. "You, on de other hand, I'm a little disappointed you not dead yet. My contacts say dat dey seen you warning a ring. Dat de ripe negress I caught you with years ago?"

"You dangerously close to too far, Daniel." Remy's voice carried an undercurrent of menace, and the laughing stopped. Daniel wasn't afraid of Gambit, but he had no interest in provoking Remy hard enough to end up facing him. Being dead was bad for business, and Boudreaux knew the value of not being on Gambit's bad side.

"Understood. What can de Assassin's Guild do for you?"

"You are going to get a contract. We wish to replace it with a better one." Marie-Ange said. She'd spread her hands in a "What can you do?" gesture at the comment about her ass. "Perhaps you have already gotten it, for a Templeton?"

"You both know better den dat. I don’t discuss contracts."

"You do dis one, it ends up helping Belladonna." Remy said, applying the leverage that would always work against Daniel; his sister.

"Merde." There was a pause. "Oui, we took on a contract for Quentin Templeton. It's extremely lucrative."

"We match de value, plus a half million sweetener."

"Not even if it was delivered with a month of Colbert's mouth around my cock. Three million, LeBeau. And you fucking assurance dat it never gets out publicly dat de Guild flipped a contract." Remy looked over to Adrienne, silent but his eyes questioning whether or not she could meet the price.

Adrienne wore a pained expression on her face, but she gave Remy the nod of approval.

"Done." Remy said. He didn't want Daniel knowing of Adrienne's involvement. It was another angle that the man was sure to use down the road if he knew. "We'll match de contract on de day, and release de rest de next day."

"I want your marker on dis, LeBeau. Personally."

"Oui, you've got it. And I expect dis to go perfectly, Daniel. Any last minute fuck ups, and Remy hold you responsible."

There was a low chuckle in response. "Like I said, Marie-Ange, when you want a real job, give me a call." The line went dead.

"That went about as expected." Marie-Ange said. "Down to the commentary about my career choices. I would have been more worried if he had not." She frowned and shook her head at the phone. "That almost felt too easy, I think?"

"Daniel knows where his best opportunities are. And he wants his sister dead. Dat enough incentive." Remy leaned back. "And you, Frost, now have an assassin team to play wit'."

"Damn, I wish you hadn't made that sound so dirty, now I'm starting to get ideas," Adrienne smirked.


Adrienne tells Wyngarde how the gang took out the other assassins.


"Since Strathdee hired his own assassins," Adrienne continued, "I then needed my people to neutralize them, as well, so I had the former Black Queen and Black Knight, along with Garrison Kane, meet up with Betsy and her escort to do a little tag-team assassin-neutralization."

***
Have I mentioned that I hate this outfit?" Garrison said as Amanda opened the door to admit him into the sub-basement. Jean and Amanda had infiltrated the club earlier, using their own brief status to nullify the magic wards to enter unnoticed. He checked his watch - the main groups of assassins would be on their way, arranged by Conrad Strathdee. "Aren't Haller and Betsy here yet?"

"I'm here," Betsy's voice called out. She appeared behind the door and joined the team. "And company is not far behind. Just once, I'd like to fight a legion of terrible teddys or the deadliest horde of puppies known to man. But no, we have another band of obnoxiously well-trained assassins." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the door. "Gird your loins, this will hurt."

#Hold fire, I'm coming up behind you.# The telepathic warning dissipated as quickly as it had come, and a moment later Jim appeared, hair mussed and sans jacket and tie. The disheveled appearance had certainly helped convince the attendant he'd paid to keep his private room private. He drew up near Betsy, automatically stopping outside her range of motion.

"Sorry for the delay," he said quietly, giving Jean a nod of greeting. His right eye was paler than normal, a sign his defensive alter was already near the surface. "Nothing yet?"

"We're about to get all stompy - your timing's perfect," Amanda replied wryly. Given the firepower of the people she was with, she was happy to hang back and provide magical support.

Kane drew his sidearm - travelling via private jet and his father's passport ensured Customs didn't so much as look at their bags - and took a hold of the door. "Here we go. In three-" He mouthed two and one silently, mostly important, the element of surprise.

Jean nodded back to Jim, quirking a wordless brow with soft amusement at his state but left it at that as she glanced down the doorway. She wished they weren't in such narrow, confined quarters. It was harder to fight that way.

One of the assassins was alone in the corridor doing a sweep. He turned at the sound of the door opening, spotted the small contingent of people, and quickly backed up, turning to run to get help (he knew better) when he suddenly crumpled like a rag doll from a psi blast. He was newer. Less psionic training.They were in a hurry.

~More on the way but they seem to be all over the place. Let's split up. Dominion, Legion, stay with me. Daytripper, go with Psylocke. Let's move.~

The corridor split. Haller held out his hand for the group to pause and brazenly stepped into the right branch.

The attack came low, a baton to the kneecaps that would have left him crippled had it connected and open to a knife in the jugular. Instead it slammed against a telekinetic shield and froze there, leaving the luckless man momentarily frozen.

A previously unseen man came around the corner, gun-first, and opened fire. The telekinetic was forced to attacker in order to shield; the man, not knowing he was similarly protected, automatically retreated the way Haller had come.

"These guys are good. Trained." Kane ducked as a bullet took out a light above his head. It was odd being in combat without his powers, but he didn't have much choice. As another tried to push into the junction, Kane fired, catching him in the shoulder and forcing him to retreat.

***

It had been a long time since Amanda had worked with Betsy, and considering the last time she'd seen the purple-haired woman had been in a Magistrate's uniform in Genosha, things were awkward, to say the least. But the incoming assassins meant there was plenty of distraction.

"I could get behind this idea of killer teddy bears," she grunted as she used her shielding spell to smash one man against the wall as he tried to fire his gun at her. "At least I'd be the tallest."

A blow to the shoulder. Another to the leg. "Tall is overrated." Betsy refrained from screaming at the hit to her elbow. "Who aims for the funny bone?" She finally landed a blow that knocked her opponent out. She kicked him in the groin for good measure, grimaced, and then grabbed her elbow. "Ow."

"You could just use the purple psi blade thingie," Amanda pointed out, ducking a punch and slashing low with her knife, aiming for the femoral artery. "Turn their brains inside out?"

"I really do try to not muck about in people's brains that way, if it can be helped." She spotted a discarded sword on the floor. "Lovely." Just then, another assassins squared off with Betsy. A sword in one hand, a semi-automatic in the other. They regarded one another. She dropped the gun and smiled, all cocky like."Too many chances for a misstep or mistake. And much too much time thinking about it afterwards." Betsy engaged her target. She enjoyed the physicality of battle. "We're human, after all."

***

"Shit, shit, shit!" Kane ducked under a burst of gunfire, and was forced to dive to the relative safety of a corner, losing his gun in the process. The assassins were good, and the Canadian found himself pinned down. "A little help here?"

"A bit...busy at the moment!" Jean said as bullets bounced off a shield. Gritting her teeth, she outstretched her other hand and, with an exaggerated swatting motion, smashed the gunman into the wall.

~I'm headed your way. There in five.~ she thought to him, sensing the pain from the shoulder wound, but felt someone else coming up from behind her.

Waiting until the assassin was almost upon her, Jean lifted her hands and he flew over her head, striking the ceiling and then the ground.

~Make that 10.~

"Thanks Doc." Kane scurried out and snatched up his sidearm. His first shot took a lead gunman in the knee. His second drilled him clean in the chest. If he'd had his powers, he might have tried to injure only, but without them, his training took over and when a cop has to fire their weapon, they are trained to put the target down. He was blindsided by another gunman, and ended up on the ground, grappling with the man for control of his gun.


"Mind if I cut in?" a voice said.

The gunman struggling with Garrison suddenly let out an anguished yell as he was kicked in the face by a leather clad boot. A faint clatter was heard as three of the man's teeth landed on the floor. It wasn't often that Jean used her own body to fight, relying more on her telekinesis. She was still getting used to hand-to-hand combat. It was all she could do when she was trying to regain control of her powers. To be able to use it felt good.

"Sorry I'm late," Jean said as she extended a hand for Garrison to grab.

"We really need to work on you NOT getting injured every time there's a mission. I'm starting to run out of gauze."

***
A scattering of shots around the corner, then gone. It screamed trap. Disdainfully, Jack strode forward and found another intersection, and he noted they were getting smarter; the fluorescent lights had been shattered, casting the hall into shadows.

A bigger problem if his shields had relied on sight more than sense.

Sudden movement to one side caught alter's attention, and he snapped around to intercept the bullets of another assassin. To his credit, the man didn't even flinch at the shield; he kept firing clustered shots aimed for the telekinetic's skull.

Jack was so focused on the shooter's attack that he didn't notice the approach of another assassin. Moving dancer-graceful and too slow to pull his attention, the man drew his knife and moved towards the X-Man's back.

Betsy's opponent was good. He'd match every move she threw at him. The telepath was so focused on her own opponent and ensuring Amanda held her own in her fight that she almost missed what was about to happen. Legion was under a barrage of bullets from one attacker while a second came up behind him. Betsy reached out with her telepathy but felt nothing there. The tight knot in her stomach sank, followed by the encroaching feeling of suffocation. A fist came at her face, she ducked. Christ, she couldn't lose focus like that. She was still in her own fight. But then, a gurgling noise caught her attention. Betsy looked up to see a flying star at her opponent's throat. He looked at her in shock and fell to the floor.

She dropped her katana and ran for Jim. She had a second maybe before the knife cut skin, ninety seconds before it hit a vital organ. One hundred and eighty seconds before he'd die.

Blinded by sudden light, Betsy squinted, then looked down . A blade was frozen in place, a millimeter from her heart. Betsy blinked. A moment later, she felt the warm telepathic presence of Jim at her back and the second assassin, the one that wanted to kill Haller, stared at her with part fear, part incredulity.


Suddenly the knife slammed back into the assailant's sternum with splitting force. Jack wheeled as the attacker staggered back and followed the instinctive retaliation with an intentional blow to the man's shins, shattering them both and driving the man screaming to the floor.

Only then did the alter register Betsy's presence. His eyes betrayed a rare flicker of surprise; he'd had no idea she'd come up behind him. His instincts had simply responded to the threat as if it were an assault on his own body.

The gunman started to reload his weapon when Betsy's hand cut sideways at him. He fell to the floor. A shuriken embedded in his head. "Split focuses," Betsy whispered to herself. Her vision swam a moment. She saw gray eyes fixate on her and then it cleared. "That was close," she finally let out. The taste of grief so close she let it wash over her and then forced it away. Betsy regarded him, chest heaving still. "In one piece?"

Jack leaned in so close their foreheads nearly touched, his grin lupine. He swept one thumb across her clammy forehead to brush away a strand of hair. Behind them the screaming had subsided to thready gasps.

"More than them," he said.


***

Amanda was panting, sweat mixing with blood from a cut near her hairline, but finally they seemed to be getting somewhere with the assassins. She boxed the last two in a shield bubble, squeezing them into unconsciousness before letting them drop to the floor and dusted off her hands. "All in a days' work, eh, Betts?" she remarked.

There was no reply. Amanda whirled around, expecting to see the other woman behind her, either upright and smiling that enigmatic smile, or on the floor unconscious... or worse. "Betts?"

There was no-one there.

#Amanda, all clear?#

The witch jumped slightly at the telepathic contact. ~Um, yeah,~ she sent back, sounding as confused as she felt. ~But I've lost Betsy.~

#She's with us,# Jim replied, nodding to his teammates to confirm he'd made contact. Garrison and Jean bore the telltale signs of short yet intense periods of activity, but Jean didn't need to worry about scrutiny and no one at a Hellfire Club party would think anything strange about a man like Garrison reappearing sweaty and rumpled.

Betsy looked decidedly ill. She was speaking with the others and putting on what he mentally termed The Stiff Upper Lip, but she was pale and her skin had felt even colder than it had at the party. He strongly suspected half her night had been fighting assassins while the other had been spent fighting the flu.

#Jean confirms we've got the last of them,# continued the telepath. #She'll wait for you back at the first intersection. Betsy and I are on our way up now, so we'll see you later.#

~She's with you? But...~ Amanda broke off the thought - too many questions, not enough time for answers. And there was a job to do. ~Later, right,~ she sent, rallying slightly. But not enough for Haller not to miss the trail end of a private thought:

'What the bloody hell happened?'