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xp_logsBackdated to Monday: X-Force gathers for their weekly briefing and the subject of organ theft comes up.
The main conference room at Snow Valley was still dim with winter morning light, and people streamed in with mugs of tea and coffee, cans of energy drink, and selected from the pink box of breakfast pastries from Betty's. Monday morning meetings were never welcome, but a diner just downstairs that made good baked foods took the edge off, and helped dull hangovers and headaches.
Marie-Ange had a habit of just starting her Monday in the conference room, going through cups of tea and at least one cinnamon roll, eaten tidily with fork and knife. This meeting was no different, though her laptop was already broadcasting to the big screen. "Quick updates first please. I have a focus topic once we have any new items."
"There's some Jack the Ripper nonsense travelling through the Underground. Gabe's been taking point." Kevin said, tapping the keys on his laptop.
“She knows,” Gabriel said, sounding a little exasperated as he stood over the box of pastries at the side table. “You two do talk to each other, right? Or read my reports? I do spend a fair amount of time — well, for me, not for you, but you know what I mean.”
He frowned as he looked at his options: scones and a cherry danish. Next time, he’d use his powers and be the first to the box. “If you want to talk about this first thing on a Monday, we can,” he said, grabbing the danish because it was better than nothing and plopping it on a paper plate. “Feels like an afternoon conversation to me, but it’s your meeting.”
"I do know. I sent Gabriel looking into it the last time he was in the south." Marie-Ange tapped at her laptop screen, and flicked a report from Gabriel over to the rest of the team's devices. "Shall we just skip to the horrible parts, and then do quick updates at the end? That was meant to be my focus topic, and Gabriel is right, finish your breakfasts first, there are photos."
"Well, I was going to give an update on the state of the Winding Way, but sure, let's go with the horrible murders," Amanda chimed in from where she was brushing scone crumbs off her shirt, her voice slightly indistinct from the last mouthful she was chewing. Washing it down with a slurp of tea, she continued: "So, how's this different from the usual organ trafficking bollocks?"
Felicia's nose wrinkled at the noises coming from Amanda, giving a beat of silence with raised eyebrows before she pointedly managed to silently take a drink from her coffee. "Oh, I glanced at these, don't show the pictures. No one needs to see the pictures. Mangled bodies to try to hide the identities of the people they've harvested from it's. Not super."
"Mmph." Darcy held up a finger as she finished her swallow of oatmeal. Way too early to talk about this, and she wanted to finish her breakfast before the pictures put her off eating. "There's also been an uptick in organ surgeries at private clinics with some investigational medicine use. The sort that at least somewhat match the organs being harvested, and a few "miracle cures" being touted through the medical community to boost overall immunity and decrease rejection after transplants. To heal - and even reverse - certain types of age-related damage." She shrugged her shoulders before taking a sip of her coffee. "Of course, some of it's going to be nonsense that doesn't work or only works temporarily, but it's still sus."
"It's all sus," Gabriel frowned. "I think everyone has a few pieces, and we're getting ahead of ourselves to try and connect things. But I went to a few medical clinics to take a look around and try and get some information about what's going on." He plopped down in a seat and pushed the plate with his pastry aside. "Look, Marie-Ange has been looking into this longer than I have, but as Kevin points out, there's some 'Jack the Ripper' shit going through the underground. Some of ours going missing, and then they get found, but they're missing an organ. Or two."
"And it's serious shit. And you do need to see the pictures." He shrugged at Felicia, then nodded to Marie-Ange to get her to advance to a photo. "This isn't, like, missing kidney, missing thyroid, missing whatever," he glanced at Amanda, since she'd asked about it. "This is missing skin. Missing cornea. They're harvesting bone marrow, and all kinds of weird bits and pieces. It's not your standard black-market organ operation. It's really fucking disgusting, and it's really fucking weird."
He looked at the pictures, then reached for the cup of coffee, eager to feel the warmth it radiated. His eyes caught sight of the pool of neon-red goo in the center of his pastry, and he pushed the plate further down the table.
Wanda leaned back in her chair, cup of coffee held against her chest as she studied the pictures. "We have run across individuals or groups before who have had a hand in the organ trade. Sometimes for magical purposes, sometimes for "scientific" purposes. But this goes beyond even that." She leaned forward. "Honestly, from the magical black market side, while everything has a use, most of what we're seeing here isn't generally on the top of the list."
Taking a sip, she sighed. "The fact that I know what that top list is makes me question my life choices."
"Would be nice if it was just some back alley stab and grab for a kidney or bits of lung and liver. I mean, gross and terrible, but normal. Of course, the data is what interests me, and that... well." Darcy was slouched back as much as her chair allowed, legs tucked under her. "Black market organs have a pretty standard trade route, even when mutants are involved. Madripoor, for example. Lot of sketch-ass medical shit. It's dangerous to be a tourist in the wrong parts of the city, a mutant, or just particularly poor and otherwise unfavored there if you value not waking up with some new surgical scars. Or just disappearing outright. The ones we have been able to reliably trace and link together, though, do have a common thread. The clinics Gabe has been investigating."
"This is why I wanted everyone to do the short updates first." Marie-Ange said, wryly. "The clinics in the United States, and some in Mexico and Canada along the border are all at least in part funded by the U-Corp. Not always directly, not every clinic is a U-Clinic, and not every U-Clinic has questionable murders nearby, but enough that it is statistically significant." She sat back, finished the last bite of cinnamon roll, and took a long drink of tea. "Doug, can I have numbers. Let us give everyone a break from gore and have some nice black and white numbers."
Doug snorted. "How long have you known some of us, Angie?" he asked with a sarcastic smirk. "We always go for the gross stuff first." He tapped a tablet and brought some spreadsheets up on the display board. "But numbers you want, so numbers you shall have." He highlighted several lines of particular interest. "So you can see here that U-Corp has its fingers in a lot of pies, including non-branded ones. Some of these are basically the genetic equivalent of a car chop shop, to be honest.”
This kind of gore didn't bother Natasha as she finished off her raspberry scone with a sip of caramel macchiato but what was concerning was the lack of a rhyme or reason to any of it. The numbers indicated a high trafficking rate but no indications what the end goal was. "Too many coincidences for there not to be some sort of larger plan at work here. U-Corp's history keeps them fairly above board but that doesn't mean much."
“So it looks like U-Corp is behind this,” Amanda clarified. “What about the bloke in charge of U-Corp? Would he actually know about any of this, or is he more of a figurehead media type? He’s mouthy enough for the last one.”
"John Sublime." Marie-Ange's mouth twisted up in annoyance as she sent a photo of the man himself - brown suit, dark plastic framed glasses, slicked back hair, artfully greying stubble - up onto the display board. "Smugger than Elon Musk, flashier than Justin Hammer, and has paid off several women that he gave STDs to in his youth. We still need to finish analysis on his funding and financials, he has taken a hit on both in the last two years. One of his angel investors dropped out of the market. He does have the degree in biology, he seems to be able to talk the talk, as it is said, but he has not been into the surgery pies himself since he started the company."
"He does make some of the entrenched scuzballs on the Hill look positively delightful in comparison," Darcy agreed with a fairly rude snort. "And he likes to hear himself talk more than even Stark does. He's done a ton of TED talks and honestly he's very charismatic in the early ones, talking about the sorts of therapies and minor surgeries his group got famous for before he went pretty deep into being the Ideas Guy." She tapped her tablet and a highlight from one of his numerous talks came up, along with some headlines about the therapy in question and a 10-year follow up with the early patients. After the video had run its short course, she spoke again. "He's got the chops for breathtaking biological and medical breakthroughs, but he's viewed as more flash than substance and follow-through these days. There's been plenty of rumors that he's had to pay people off when his cures weren't the long-term he bragged about, and there's several medical and scientific journals with some strong articles not completely rebuking his work, but definitely claiming that he's not doing it according to the medical and lab standards of most developed nations. If he's getting access to mutants and has the right medical staff, his 'cures' suddenly make a lot more sense."
"So it is looking very likely that Sublime would be in the know regarding the murders," Wanda said, skimming across the data on her tablet regarding him and U-Corp. "Flashy, mouthy man about to have the curtain pulled back to show that he's not the great Oz? I cannot see someone else at U-Corp doing this without his knowledge - it benefits him directly far too much than anyone else in the company, even the rest of the C-Suite." She sat back. "I would be interested in finding information on some of those beneficiaries of these now working cures."
"We know he knows. He is an arrogant sleaze, but he is not Elon Musk. He is actually marginally competent, and remarkably hands-on for a CEO." Marie-Ange said. "Wanda is right, he has to know, so he has to be approving. I want him on everyone's radar for a few weeks."
The main conference room at Snow Valley was still dim with winter morning light, and people streamed in with mugs of tea and coffee, cans of energy drink, and selected from the pink box of breakfast pastries from Betty's. Monday morning meetings were never welcome, but a diner just downstairs that made good baked foods took the edge off, and helped dull hangovers and headaches.
Marie-Ange had a habit of just starting her Monday in the conference room, going through cups of tea and at least one cinnamon roll, eaten tidily with fork and knife. This meeting was no different, though her laptop was already broadcasting to the big screen. "Quick updates first please. I have a focus topic once we have any new items."
"There's some Jack the Ripper nonsense travelling through the Underground. Gabe's been taking point." Kevin said, tapping the keys on his laptop.
“She knows,” Gabriel said, sounding a little exasperated as he stood over the box of pastries at the side table. “You two do talk to each other, right? Or read my reports? I do spend a fair amount of time — well, for me, not for you, but you know what I mean.”
He frowned as he looked at his options: scones and a cherry danish. Next time, he’d use his powers and be the first to the box. “If you want to talk about this first thing on a Monday, we can,” he said, grabbing the danish because it was better than nothing and plopping it on a paper plate. “Feels like an afternoon conversation to me, but it’s your meeting.”
"I do know. I sent Gabriel looking into it the last time he was in the south." Marie-Ange tapped at her laptop screen, and flicked a report from Gabriel over to the rest of the team's devices. "Shall we just skip to the horrible parts, and then do quick updates at the end? That was meant to be my focus topic, and Gabriel is right, finish your breakfasts first, there are photos."
"Well, I was going to give an update on the state of the Winding Way, but sure, let's go with the horrible murders," Amanda chimed in from where she was brushing scone crumbs off her shirt, her voice slightly indistinct from the last mouthful she was chewing. Washing it down with a slurp of tea, she continued: "So, how's this different from the usual organ trafficking bollocks?"
Felicia's nose wrinkled at the noises coming from Amanda, giving a beat of silence with raised eyebrows before she pointedly managed to silently take a drink from her coffee. "Oh, I glanced at these, don't show the pictures. No one needs to see the pictures. Mangled bodies to try to hide the identities of the people they've harvested from it's. Not super."
"Mmph." Darcy held up a finger as she finished her swallow of oatmeal. Way too early to talk about this, and she wanted to finish her breakfast before the pictures put her off eating. "There's also been an uptick in organ surgeries at private clinics with some investigational medicine use. The sort that at least somewhat match the organs being harvested, and a few "miracle cures" being touted through the medical community to boost overall immunity and decrease rejection after transplants. To heal - and even reverse - certain types of age-related damage." She shrugged her shoulders before taking a sip of her coffee. "Of course, some of it's going to be nonsense that doesn't work or only works temporarily, but it's still sus."
"It's all sus," Gabriel frowned. "I think everyone has a few pieces, and we're getting ahead of ourselves to try and connect things. But I went to a few medical clinics to take a look around and try and get some information about what's going on." He plopped down in a seat and pushed the plate with his pastry aside. "Look, Marie-Ange has been looking into this longer than I have, but as Kevin points out, there's some 'Jack the Ripper' shit going through the underground. Some of ours going missing, and then they get found, but they're missing an organ. Or two."
"And it's serious shit. And you do need to see the pictures." He shrugged at Felicia, then nodded to Marie-Ange to get her to advance to a photo. "This isn't, like, missing kidney, missing thyroid, missing whatever," he glanced at Amanda, since she'd asked about it. "This is missing skin. Missing cornea. They're harvesting bone marrow, and all kinds of weird bits and pieces. It's not your standard black-market organ operation. It's really fucking disgusting, and it's really fucking weird."
He looked at the pictures, then reached for the cup of coffee, eager to feel the warmth it radiated. His eyes caught sight of the pool of neon-red goo in the center of his pastry, and he pushed the plate further down the table.
Wanda leaned back in her chair, cup of coffee held against her chest as she studied the pictures. "We have run across individuals or groups before who have had a hand in the organ trade. Sometimes for magical purposes, sometimes for "scientific" purposes. But this goes beyond even that." She leaned forward. "Honestly, from the magical black market side, while everything has a use, most of what we're seeing here isn't generally on the top of the list."
Taking a sip, she sighed. "The fact that I know what that top list is makes me question my life choices."
"Would be nice if it was just some back alley stab and grab for a kidney or bits of lung and liver. I mean, gross and terrible, but normal. Of course, the data is what interests me, and that... well." Darcy was slouched back as much as her chair allowed, legs tucked under her. "Black market organs have a pretty standard trade route, even when mutants are involved. Madripoor, for example. Lot of sketch-ass medical shit. It's dangerous to be a tourist in the wrong parts of the city, a mutant, or just particularly poor and otherwise unfavored there if you value not waking up with some new surgical scars. Or just disappearing outright. The ones we have been able to reliably trace and link together, though, do have a common thread. The clinics Gabe has been investigating."
"This is why I wanted everyone to do the short updates first." Marie-Ange said, wryly. "The clinics in the United States, and some in Mexico and Canada along the border are all at least in part funded by the U-Corp. Not always directly, not every clinic is a U-Clinic, and not every U-Clinic has questionable murders nearby, but enough that it is statistically significant." She sat back, finished the last bite of cinnamon roll, and took a long drink of tea. "Doug, can I have numbers. Let us give everyone a break from gore and have some nice black and white numbers."
Doug snorted. "How long have you known some of us, Angie?" he asked with a sarcastic smirk. "We always go for the gross stuff first." He tapped a tablet and brought some spreadsheets up on the display board. "But numbers you want, so numbers you shall have." He highlighted several lines of particular interest. "So you can see here that U-Corp has its fingers in a lot of pies, including non-branded ones. Some of these are basically the genetic equivalent of a car chop shop, to be honest.”
This kind of gore didn't bother Natasha as she finished off her raspberry scone with a sip of caramel macchiato but what was concerning was the lack of a rhyme or reason to any of it. The numbers indicated a high trafficking rate but no indications what the end goal was. "Too many coincidences for there not to be some sort of larger plan at work here. U-Corp's history keeps them fairly above board but that doesn't mean much."
“So it looks like U-Corp is behind this,” Amanda clarified. “What about the bloke in charge of U-Corp? Would he actually know about any of this, or is he more of a figurehead media type? He’s mouthy enough for the last one.”
"John Sublime." Marie-Ange's mouth twisted up in annoyance as she sent a photo of the man himself - brown suit, dark plastic framed glasses, slicked back hair, artfully greying stubble - up onto the display board. "Smugger than Elon Musk, flashier than Justin Hammer, and has paid off several women that he gave STDs to in his youth. We still need to finish analysis on his funding and financials, he has taken a hit on both in the last two years. One of his angel investors dropped out of the market. He does have the degree in biology, he seems to be able to talk the talk, as it is said, but he has not been into the surgery pies himself since he started the company."
"He does make some of the entrenched scuzballs on the Hill look positively delightful in comparison," Darcy agreed with a fairly rude snort. "And he likes to hear himself talk more than even Stark does. He's done a ton of TED talks and honestly he's very charismatic in the early ones, talking about the sorts of therapies and minor surgeries his group got famous for before he went pretty deep into being the Ideas Guy." She tapped her tablet and a highlight from one of his numerous talks came up, along with some headlines about the therapy in question and a 10-year follow up with the early patients. After the video had run its short course, she spoke again. "He's got the chops for breathtaking biological and medical breakthroughs, but he's viewed as more flash than substance and follow-through these days. There's been plenty of rumors that he's had to pay people off when his cures weren't the long-term he bragged about, and there's several medical and scientific journals with some strong articles not completely rebuking his work, but definitely claiming that he's not doing it according to the medical and lab standards of most developed nations. If he's getting access to mutants and has the right medical staff, his 'cures' suddenly make a lot more sense."
"So it is looking very likely that Sublime would be in the know regarding the murders," Wanda said, skimming across the data on her tablet regarding him and U-Corp. "Flashy, mouthy man about to have the curtain pulled back to show that he's not the great Oz? I cannot see someone else at U-Corp doing this without his knowledge - it benefits him directly far too much than anyone else in the company, even the rest of the C-Suite." She sat back. "I would be interested in finding information on some of those beneficiaries of these now working cures."
"We know he knows. He is an arrogant sleaze, but he is not Elon Musk. He is actually marginally competent, and remarkably hands-on for a CEO." Marie-Ange said. "Wanda is right, he has to know, so he has to be approving. I want him on everyone's radar for a few weeks."
