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[b]Gambit[/b]
September 5th, 2013
11:58 PM[/center]

“Here’s the problem, Remy, we’re dealing with the fucking government.” Fence stood on his powering station, a partially raised, circular dais with a bright blue light shining upward. Sprouting from his mechanized hand was a flat hologram which he read from intently. His eye was damaged in the beating he received a month ago on the Cajun’s behalf, he could not use it to project holograms or virtual reality HUD’s. The aforementioned Cajun was laid in a loveseat set between to marble columns. He still wore his sneaking suit and running shoes, his legs were innocently slung over the edge of the loveseat. The joe in his hands had cooled since he got there, and coincidentally, so had he. He took a sip of the brown stuff as his red eyes pierced through the light steam which rose from the cup. “If we were dealing with some kind of a street hustler, sure, easy-peesey. A mob-boss? Easy as the shit I pass off as cake here. But what I can’t do…”

“I thought you said there was nothing you can’t do.” Remy interrupted. He looked sly, and vicious, he wanted blood but he wasn’t ready to kill for it. Remy sometimes felt like that, like he was impotent, like he wasn’t a man of integrity. But what does a thief know about integrity?

Fence seemed annoyed by the suggestion Remy made, he stepped off the powering station and pointed his human, broken, hand at the devil in the darkness. “That was six years ago, before you started playing footsies with government organizations. And, what I can’t do is hide you from every security agency in the United States, public or otherwise.”

Remy’s eyebrows perked up, he was interested in the implications of Fence’s statement. Fence was particular, he was a man of practicality. He never said anything that didn’t need saying, unless he was hyping himself up. “What do you mean? There info in there about secret organizations, looking for me?” 

Fence calmed and got back to the station. He waved his hands behind him and flipped through the hologram. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, “Not explicitly, but yeah.” Fence made a throwing motion with his robotic arm toward the smart board which sat at the opposite end of the basement they were talking in. The walls were exposed stone and the floor was red cracked marble aside from the area around the powering station, that was metal tile. Remy assumed it was because there was some sort of defense mechanism around the station, Fence was paranoid like that. Fence had put a lot of money into this place, Remy was happy that when the spooks came around they couldn’t find this place too. Behind the smart board was a door, one of two. It led to a vault and more things beyond that which Remy wasn’t even entirely sure about. At the opposite end was another door which led to the elevator which led to the bakery. That end was stocked with tables, and tools, and computers, and weapons, and all sorts of do-dads. The document flicked onto the screen moments later. 

On the screen was a long document which included lots of codenames, and locations where Remy had been, and security business lingo. Fence circled all the names he brought up on the board from where he stood. “I’ve never heard of the Murauders. Or Project X. They must be new or top secret. I’ve never had a non-doctored document like this.”

Remy made sure to let Fence know he was still worth something, “You’re welcome,” is all he said. 

“There’s also this Sentinel program, very troubling. It implies, whatever this project is, will be able to track down mutants. They’re saying you were instrumental in making all of this possible.” Fence was a little dumbstruck. He turned to the red-eyed devil sitting in the love seat, cooing over a cup of coffee. “Did you do this, Remy?”

The Cajun sipped his coffee again. He felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine and he swallowed the coffee hard. His eyes unfocused and refocused again, and for a moment the Cajun felt like he was falling through the world. “I—I don’t know.”

“Come on, Remy. I mean, Jesus Christ, don’t you know never to trust the fucking government?!?” He wanted an answer, the metal man stood on the station staring at Remy, every second the Cajun didn’t answer infuriated Fence. “Well!?!” He bellowed.

Remy was jolted from a daydream, “I—I didn’t know.” 

“Well now you know.” Fence stared at the thief, cradled by the cushions, and unraveled what he saw. Remy looked frightened, shocked, betrayed, and embarrassed; Fence could see that. He pursed his lips then exhaled, “I can help you, Remy, I think. It’s not a sure thing by any means. But it has to be done my way.” Fence was clear, deliberate, forgiving. “My way or the highway.” He punctuated. 

Remy hadn’t been looking at Fence for a while, he stared at the cracked red floor and descended into a short burst of agony. With Fences last words Remy’s red eyes flicked over to the metal man’s blues. “Yeah,” he accepted weakly, “yeah, you got it, Boss.”

[center]---

[i]Concerning the Daydream: Remy was sent to China in 2011 to retrieve plans, and potentially materials, from a secret base in Karamay. Remy led a team of two, it was going to be easy, simple. After rendezvous, which involved Remy boarding a train via helicopter, the team picked up their weapons, in a storage crate outside the city, and head to the base. They hadn’t killed any guards by the time they reached their destination. All four team-members had powers, similar to Remy. One young man could teleport, which came in handy. Another could read minds and the other possessed technokinesis, like Fence. It was the latter teammate who made this distinction between what the team was told they were to collect, and what they were actually collecting. He hijacked the database which Remy searched the storage bins for the marked materials. Remy found it, a green matte suitcase locked and sealed. He brought it over to a table and opened it, it looked like some sort of polymer. 

“They sent us out here for some damn plastics?” Remy commented. His hair was longer then, he had it wrapped in a ponytail. 

Gerald, the young man mentioned earlier, stood from the laptop he worked at and looked at the material. He waved his hands over the case and small lights flicked on inside the opaque material. He smiled as his hands hovered over the box. “There is no metal in them at all, but they’re electronic all right.” Gerald stopped manipulating the material and went back to his laptop. “You shouldn’t have opened that.” He said coyly. 

“And why’s that?” Remy questioned, he shut the case.

“I didn’t see anything, man.” Gerald responded. 

“Say what’s on your mind, Frtiz.”

Gerald hesitated a moment and then turned in his chair, he looked up at the Cajun and frowned. “That’s not what they told us we were getting. This is very serious, very scary shit.”

Gerald died on their way out of the base. The two other agents died in a freak fire in the west end no more than a week later. And the Cajun realized now that he was meant to die in that fire as well. Or perhaps the CIA got Gambit out of that room on purpose, to keep him. Either way, remembering that moment made Remy sure that he was a fool, and any work he’d done for the government was pure evil. [/i][/center]