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xp_logsOnce Kevin has spoken to his contact, he and Marie-Ange make some desperate plans.
"I have some unspeakably fucking bad news. Come with me to Kirby's because I don't think we're secure here. It's that bad." Kevin rarely was heavy handed, but when he did, it was for good reason. He waved her into the elevator.
"Worse than "calling everyone back in?" Marie-Ange already looked tired, like she needed a nap, a good meal, and two or twelve drinks. "We already are pulling everyone home." She followed into the elevator, and leaned against the back wall. She'd grabbed a coat and scarf on the way out, and pulled the scarf up against the winter wind - and bothersome eyes - as they left the building.
"That weird Sublime prick may have actual intel on us. He's the one that grabbed Jasmine Destine. She knows... enough of you to put us on the radar." Kevin said. "As in, nothing right now is secure."
"Oh hell." Marie-Ange's walking pace sped up as Kevin's did, and the pair was silent until they were in a side table at Kirby's. "She has no reason to keep quiet, and could put him down on not just us but the mansion." The server had delivered two glasses, and she drank half of hers in one long drink, and then winced. "I think I just got your drink. We have, what, five people she would not know to identify? Maybe? But once a few of us are targets, all of us are, and then it just grows from there."
"Calm down. It's bad. All kinds of bad. But we can work through it. We just need to go dark. It's the play they won't expect." Kevin said. "He needs to be snipped off, regardless."
"I have a very appropriate amount of panic." Marie-Ange finished what she was certain was Kevin's drink, and then snorted a laugh. "Snipped off. Prick. I like that. So we go dark, run underground and pop up in his face. He assumes we are hiding, when we are plotting. Yes. What else do you know? Because I am assuming that since your mystery contact has a way to know it is Sublime, they know other things."
"Not a lot. Destine got picked up with a couple of others. The one that called got free and ran for the local Underground. Fingered one of Sublime's U-Man clinics as the place they were held. Sublime's whole schtick is how hands on he is, right? And we've been getting rumours about disappearances of mutants connected with those clinics for months now. It's got to be an executive decision." Kevin said, taking a sip from the rather nice negroni that Chris had originally built for MA before passing it over. "Best case, he's got no clue Destine has information worth anything. Worse case, we're already compromised. Only way to fix this is to get to the man himself and find out just how much he knows and how he's spread it around."
"It is that worst case scenario that is going to keep me up at night." Marie-Ange said, and then pointed at their drinks, shrugged sheepishly at the server, and made the little fingers switch motion. "Sorry, I grabbed the wrong drink. Could you get another for us and make it a double? Merci." She turned back towards Kevin once the server had gone to put the drinks in. "So we need.. . At minimum, find Sublime, erase whatever he knows from his mind, delete whatever records he might have kept digitally or physically and then chase flies in a spider-web. Well, when we put it like that, that sounds like a very regular winter for us."
"To me, it means we need to get to the man directly. Frost's telepathy can figure out what he knows and hopefully Ramsey can clear the electronic footprint. But getting to a guy worth a couple of hundred billion is no easy feat." He collected the fresh whiskey and the pint of Ballantines. "We need a fixed location outside of his homes or offices which maximize security."
"So we start with his itinerary for the next two weeks." Marie-Ange grimaced, pulled out her phone and looked at it. "He has stupid billionare money, so he has technology people. I am reasonably sure these are secure now, but not for long, if he knows who we are." She tapped out a few searches, and then started on her negroni. "Medical conference, medical conference, TED talk, he is all over the south west for the next month. U-Camp? His Twitter says he's 'tenting up for U Camp."
"I've put some people on it already. We'll see what shakes loose." He took a sip from his pint. "We might need to get messy this time."
"Is this the same people you disappeared off to talk to?" Marie-Ange asked. "I do not think anyone is surprised that this will not be a clean operation. Least of all me. Limited technology, going off of the grid and lying low, that makes keeping things directed difficult to start with. A billionaire medical CEO just makes it even more potentially bad. For all we know he has golems made of mutant organs in a secret basement. What sort of messy are you anticipating?"
"His money changes the equation. We have to assume he can leverage it to comprise everything if he has names. So utterly off the grid and on the downlow. I can get all over the place, but we need the whole team, and unfortunately, they don't all have my powers." Kevin said. "We need to pull apart his brain and know what he knows. That's key. After that..." He shrugged. "You think killing the wealthiest man in the world might draw attention?"
"Can make it look like he has pancreatic cancer and has been only eating fruit for a year?" Marie-Ange answered darkly. "So we need the entire team, and we have to get to him before he goes overseas somewhere." She puilled a face. "Oh no. Oh no I know what this is. This is the entire team in terrible rental cars for a week. I do not like this."
"No rentals. A bunch of chopshop beaters with no paper trail. And a lot of coffee."
Marie-Ange drank more of her negroni, and fidgeted a little with the little ribbon of orange peel, using a finger to run it around the inside of the glass. "Driving in shifts. Most of us cannot go forty hours no sleep without consequences, so we need a beaten up camping van, or some other way to sleep and eat in shifts, and communication that we can keep off of the cellular networks."
"Something old. State troopers love those tricked out luxury RVs. They used them like ATMs filing tickets for their local departments. Something with a CB. Don't laugh. CB networks are still how decent truckers communicate. I know a trick or two and they fucking hate staties." Kevin nodded, a plan coming together in his head. "A couple of tail cars, a lead car to pull any unwanted attention."
"Something fast and a little flashy, and something equally dull and anonymous in case someone needs to break off." Marie-Ange nodded in agreement. "I am going to laugh at the CB radio lingo but I understand the need. Do we know any truckers? I think we can get cars, and even an old RV. I am going to borrow Scott and anyone else I can find in the mansion garage to make sure anything we get is no longer likely to throw parts on the highway ten hours into the drive."
"Don't let them upgrade it. I know gearheads and their temptations, and if we roll into a traffic stop with an engine that looks like it was put together by a time traveller, we're in trouble. As for the truckers, I don't have a network, but I know how to work them. We'll have support." Kevin said assertively.
"No upgrades." Marie-Ange agreed. "Support is good. So now we just need to find out where to drive to, which you have in hand, and I can make sure our transportation and communication teams are organized, and in the meantime, we try to act normal, yes, but move quickly? I have never been this compromised before. Do we just lay low until we move?"
"We need to get in front. Longer we wait, the more likely something utterly fundamental is revealed." Kevin said, the whole operation dropping into his head from missions from the 70s and 80s. "Burner phones for local comms, CB for highway intel. Two or three support cars and the RV. And Emma as the biggest goddamn Jim Brown in history." Kevin was in rare high energy mode, hands twitching. "He'll be so focused on her, we slip in on the downlow. I have a friend that is going to set us up in Nevada. We can run the fucking table on him."
"So we stay low and move fast, yes, I am seeing this plan coming together." Marie-Ange finished her drink, and set the glass down gently. "Another drink, and then we start this. I am going to call everyone into the mansion, the entire team." She paused. "North stays at the mansion. He is still recovering and if this goes wrong, I want someone who will know and be able to warn the X-Men."
"Agreed. He's getting better but he's still a ways from being field ready." Kevin nodded and waved for another round.
"I will let the team know. The faster we get prepared, the faster we can get to Sublime." Marie-Ange pinched the bridge of her nose as she accepted her drink from the server. . "God, forty hours in an camper van. I should order a picture of negroni and just bring it with me in a thermos."
"I have some unspeakably fucking bad news. Come with me to Kirby's because I don't think we're secure here. It's that bad." Kevin rarely was heavy handed, but when he did, it was for good reason. He waved her into the elevator.
"Worse than "calling everyone back in?" Marie-Ange already looked tired, like she needed a nap, a good meal, and two or twelve drinks. "We already are pulling everyone home." She followed into the elevator, and leaned against the back wall. She'd grabbed a coat and scarf on the way out, and pulled the scarf up against the winter wind - and bothersome eyes - as they left the building.
"That weird Sublime prick may have actual intel on us. He's the one that grabbed Jasmine Destine. She knows... enough of you to put us on the radar." Kevin said. "As in, nothing right now is secure."
"Oh hell." Marie-Ange's walking pace sped up as Kevin's did, and the pair was silent until they were in a side table at Kirby's. "She has no reason to keep quiet, and could put him down on not just us but the mansion." The server had delivered two glasses, and she drank half of hers in one long drink, and then winced. "I think I just got your drink. We have, what, five people she would not know to identify? Maybe? But once a few of us are targets, all of us are, and then it just grows from there."
"Calm down. It's bad. All kinds of bad. But we can work through it. We just need to go dark. It's the play they won't expect." Kevin said. "He needs to be snipped off, regardless."
"I have a very appropriate amount of panic." Marie-Ange finished what she was certain was Kevin's drink, and then snorted a laugh. "Snipped off. Prick. I like that. So we go dark, run underground and pop up in his face. He assumes we are hiding, when we are plotting. Yes. What else do you know? Because I am assuming that since your mystery contact has a way to know it is Sublime, they know other things."
"Not a lot. Destine got picked up with a couple of others. The one that called got free and ran for the local Underground. Fingered one of Sublime's U-Man clinics as the place they were held. Sublime's whole schtick is how hands on he is, right? And we've been getting rumours about disappearances of mutants connected with those clinics for months now. It's got to be an executive decision." Kevin said, taking a sip from the rather nice negroni that Chris had originally built for MA before passing it over. "Best case, he's got no clue Destine has information worth anything. Worse case, we're already compromised. Only way to fix this is to get to the man himself and find out just how much he knows and how he's spread it around."
"It is that worst case scenario that is going to keep me up at night." Marie-Ange said, and then pointed at their drinks, shrugged sheepishly at the server, and made the little fingers switch motion. "Sorry, I grabbed the wrong drink. Could you get another for us and make it a double? Merci." She turned back towards Kevin once the server had gone to put the drinks in. "So we need.. . At minimum, find Sublime, erase whatever he knows from his mind, delete whatever records he might have kept digitally or physically and then chase flies in a spider-web. Well, when we put it like that, that sounds like a very regular winter for us."
"To me, it means we need to get to the man directly. Frost's telepathy can figure out what he knows and hopefully Ramsey can clear the electronic footprint. But getting to a guy worth a couple of hundred billion is no easy feat." He collected the fresh whiskey and the pint of Ballantines. "We need a fixed location outside of his homes or offices which maximize security."
"So we start with his itinerary for the next two weeks." Marie-Ange grimaced, pulled out her phone and looked at it. "He has stupid billionare money, so he has technology people. I am reasonably sure these are secure now, but not for long, if he knows who we are." She tapped out a few searches, and then started on her negroni. "Medical conference, medical conference, TED talk, he is all over the south west for the next month. U-Camp? His Twitter says he's 'tenting up for U Camp."
"I've put some people on it already. We'll see what shakes loose." He took a sip from his pint. "We might need to get messy this time."
"Is this the same people you disappeared off to talk to?" Marie-Ange asked. "I do not think anyone is surprised that this will not be a clean operation. Least of all me. Limited technology, going off of the grid and lying low, that makes keeping things directed difficult to start with. A billionaire medical CEO just makes it even more potentially bad. For all we know he has golems made of mutant organs in a secret basement. What sort of messy are you anticipating?"
"His money changes the equation. We have to assume he can leverage it to comprise everything if he has names. So utterly off the grid and on the downlow. I can get all over the place, but we need the whole team, and unfortunately, they don't all have my powers." Kevin said. "We need to pull apart his brain and know what he knows. That's key. After that..." He shrugged. "You think killing the wealthiest man in the world might draw attention?"
"Can make it look like he has pancreatic cancer and has been only eating fruit for a year?" Marie-Ange answered darkly. "So we need the entire team, and we have to get to him before he goes overseas somewhere." She puilled a face. "Oh no. Oh no I know what this is. This is the entire team in terrible rental cars for a week. I do not like this."
"No rentals. A bunch of chopshop beaters with no paper trail. And a lot of coffee."
Marie-Ange drank more of her negroni, and fidgeted a little with the little ribbon of orange peel, using a finger to run it around the inside of the glass. "Driving in shifts. Most of us cannot go forty hours no sleep without consequences, so we need a beaten up camping van, or some other way to sleep and eat in shifts, and communication that we can keep off of the cellular networks."
"Something old. State troopers love those tricked out luxury RVs. They used them like ATMs filing tickets for their local departments. Something with a CB. Don't laugh. CB networks are still how decent truckers communicate. I know a trick or two and they fucking hate staties." Kevin nodded, a plan coming together in his head. "A couple of tail cars, a lead car to pull any unwanted attention."
"Something fast and a little flashy, and something equally dull and anonymous in case someone needs to break off." Marie-Ange nodded in agreement. "I am going to laugh at the CB radio lingo but I understand the need. Do we know any truckers? I think we can get cars, and even an old RV. I am going to borrow Scott and anyone else I can find in the mansion garage to make sure anything we get is no longer likely to throw parts on the highway ten hours into the drive."
"Don't let them upgrade it. I know gearheads and their temptations, and if we roll into a traffic stop with an engine that looks like it was put together by a time traveller, we're in trouble. As for the truckers, I don't have a network, but I know how to work them. We'll have support." Kevin said assertively.
"No upgrades." Marie-Ange agreed. "Support is good. So now we just need to find out where to drive to, which you have in hand, and I can make sure our transportation and communication teams are organized, and in the meantime, we try to act normal, yes, but move quickly? I have never been this compromised before. Do we just lay low until we move?"
"We need to get in front. Longer we wait, the more likely something utterly fundamental is revealed." Kevin said, the whole operation dropping into his head from missions from the 70s and 80s. "Burner phones for local comms, CB for highway intel. Two or three support cars and the RV. And Emma as the biggest goddamn Jim Brown in history." Kevin was in rare high energy mode, hands twitching. "He'll be so focused on her, we slip in on the downlow. I have a friend that is going to set us up in Nevada. We can run the fucking table on him."
"So we stay low and move fast, yes, I am seeing this plan coming together." Marie-Ange finished her drink, and set the glass down gently. "Another drink, and then we start this. I am going to call everyone into the mansion, the entire team." She paused. "North stays at the mansion. He is still recovering and if this goes wrong, I want someone who will know and be able to warn the X-Men."
"Agreed. He's getting better but he's still a ways from being field ready." Kevin nodded and waved for another round.
"I will let the team know. The faster we get prepared, the faster we can get to Sublime." Marie-Ange pinched the bridge of her nose as she accepted her drink from the server. . "God, forty hours in an camper van. I should order a picture of negroni and just bring it with me in a thermos."
