Kevin & Wade | Early Thursday Afternoon

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Wade has a few questions about what it entails to be a spy, Kevin attempts to answer them.


Wade had picked up one of his new suits from the guy Emilio had recommended and sorted through the tie choices he had before actually coming to work. Who knew owning and wearing suits could be so complicated? But at least he looked professional given the place where he was now working.

He had lists and he had more lists and there were probably some number columns somewhere in the paperwork he was sorting through in his office, but none of that really addressed the questions he had. He could go to Marie-Ange or Doug or Wanda, probably, but they were coming at things from a different angle than what he needed. So Wade sat everything aside, stood up, walked down the hall to Kevin Sydney's office, and knocked.

Kevin took his arm out from over his eyes, adjusted his rye and looked over. "What?"

Opening the door, Wade poked his head into the office and said, "I've got a question or two for you. You have a few minutes?"

"Only if you're interesting." Kevin said, although he pulled himself up to a seated position and lit a cigarette. "Sit. Drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Wade said, stepping into the room and over to the indicated chair. "See, I've got networks of people in Asia, South America, and Africa, right? But I'm not a spook. My network's not made for spooks. I've got guys and girls but I'm not sure they're the kind of guys and girls that'd be useful for this outfit. Unless we need weapons dropped somewhere. I've got that covered. But like I said, not a spook."

"OK, say two All-Fathers and three Santa-Marias. Was there a point to this other than a confessional?"

Wade quirked a smile. "Which kinds of people are most helpful to spooks and where would it be most advantageous to put them?"

"Oh, my poor stupid, you're looking to use a network that is used to just providing you weapons. It's a very different world." Kevin passed over a drink and leaned on the edge of his desk. "Tell me something, Wade. Are you afraid of being more than a merc?"

"No, but I know my strengths," Wade answered. "I know why I was hired here. I'm the muscle and probably the shield if they need it. I'm not trying to shift the use of any of my networks completely, but they've been in place for a while and I could probably expand them if I know what you guys need and where."

"You didn't answer my question. Running contacts as a spy is an entirely different world than as a merc. Does it frighten you?"

"Not for myself. But I don't want to fuck something up. It's not just me who might depend on the information."

Kevin grinned toothsomely, taking another sip from his glass. "Oh, you are afraid. Let me guess. It's the redhead you're sleeping with which is a lot better at this side of the business than you. You are not trying to prove anything to her, but you're afraid you'll miss something, and she'll blame you."

"More like I'll get her killed," Wade answered. "Or somebody else. You can drop me pretty much anywhere in the world and I'll be fine. Not so much for everybody else. The intel's important for them in a way it's not for me."

"It should be. Intel is what puts you on target, Wade. So you shouldn't be asking me to train you on your network. Turn it over to your girl, and I'll train you how to take it back when you're ready and secure to think you get the most from it."

"What use is it gonna be to her now? She doesn't need the things I have available. That's why I'm asking what you do need."

"You don't think she's trying to figure this out?" Kevin's smile stayed level. "She will. And in a group like this, you need someone on point. I will use your contacts, but at the end of the day, they become most valuable as part of the overall network."

Wade gave the other man a quizzical look. "So what you're really saying is you want my contacts to do whatever with and work into your network."

"In part. If you don't know what to do with them, give them to a professional." He tipped his glass at him. "And I'm sure you're great at killing people, but you have a long way to go as an intelligence operative."

"I don't disagree with you," Wade replied. "How's your mutation work? I... knew a girl once. A metamorph. But she needed DNA to do her thing."

"I'm a little different." Kevin refilled Wade's glass and gave him a drink gesture. "Do you want to learn how to be a better spy?"

"Yes, but I think you've got a leg up I'll never be able to match. How're you different mutation-wise?" Wade took a sip of his drink and quirked another smile. "This is good."

"You know what it is to be a spy? When a gun is in your face, you're still grabbing information from the situation." Kevin said, downing another shot. "That's the idea."

"Okay. You're grabbing information. I'm getting the gun out of your face."

"You aren't. You know what a good spy is? One that the gun to the face is the start of a negotiation."

"I get negotiating for information or whatever, sure, but how're you gonna do that with the gun in your face? They have the upper hand the whole time. Disarm and equalize, then negotiate," Wade said. "But let's be real, if they've sent me in somewhere, it's not to negotiate."

"Like I told you. A gun to the face is the start of an opportunity. And that is the difference. How you react matters more than what happens to you."

"Okay, walk me through it. There's a gun in your face. What're you negotiating for?"

"Depends what my priorities are. But if it is your gun, right now, you're working to be legitimate. You think that a hat and a suit can change the fact that you're a field animal. So the first time you put a gun in my face, I know you're an acceptable loss."

Wade smiled again and shook his head. "No, the suit and the hat don't make me legitimate. That's just how you should dress when you work in an office. Which is apparently what I'm doing now. And for somebody like you, I don't wait to see what you might wanna say, how you might negotiate. If I'm on contract, you're dead before you say a word. Preferably, you never even see me. What is it you're trying to get out of a conversation with a guy who has no reason to keep you alive?"

"Usually to create a reason in their head why they want me alive. And in doing so, find out information, buy for time, wait for the mistake." Sydney said. "Because the more time you get, the more likely you're going to get a mistake to take advantage of."

"Right," Wade said, still sounding dubious. This entire conversation just highlighted how much he really didn't get spies. They were a whole different level of stealth and a completely different set of thought processes away from where he'd set up shop and made himself at home. Also, obviously not your name brand kinda crazy. "You just talk your way out of a bullet to the head and into bed with whichever group it is you got caught by." He paused, then said, "Sounds useful. I mostly just attract bullets when I start talking."

"Then you may want to consider the defensive advantages of silence." Kevin said wryly. "In intelligence, the need for a gun is the first sign of a blown mission. I know lots of mercenaries. They like to be noticed. They think large. It's like the animal world. If you want to frighten away a competitor, you puff up and make yourself look big. Learn to look small. Harmless. Be the person in the crowd who everyone notices only for a moment and completely fails to remember."

He snubbed out his cigarette. "Because in this world, Wade, mercs are expendable. Operatives aren't. Learn small and quiet. It will make that gun far more effective and dangerous than big and loud ever will."

"Yeah, okay," Wade said, still thinking it over. "Thanks for the talk. And the drinks. I appreciate it."