Lekh Antol ‘A Chance Encounter’
(Featuring NeutralNexus)
Two Months AgoIt took Lekh just two days to get himself established in Lost Haven, he was always adaptable like that. He had left his brother’s club, Eden, with money and a whole host of information buzzing through his head. Like Lekh, Adrian was a talented criminal, capable of quickly establishing who had to be bought off and who could be rebuked, and it seemed that the younger Antol had got himself in with the biggest of the bunch in Lost Haven. Even he didn’t know much about the organisation, and it was an organisation not some petty street gang, only that it lacked the mark of the Mob or the Yakuza. Evidently it was some kind of organised crime, but what sort it was hard to tell. Adrian had only a name, and consequently that was all Lekh had as well, the Shroud Syndicate.
Still, Lekh was nothing if not resourceful and he quickly came to realise a name was almost enough. The Shroud Syndicate were powerful, and by merit of that they were not as secretive as many of their rivals in other cities, at least on a certain level. Every low level gang member in the French Quarter seemed to owe their affiliation to the Syndicate, it was like some great conglomeration of gangs headed by what Lekh could only assume were master organisers. To say he was impressed would be an overstatement, but he was getting an inkling that to be close to the aristocracy of such an outfit would place him in a beneficial and perhaps even lucrative position. So, with a goal in mind the man set himself to work.
The tall man walking down the strip in the early hours of the evening was almost unrecognisable as the man who had stepped off a trawler with bag in hand and a cold fire in his eyes. He was dressed differently, for one, a leather sports jacket with a baseball team’s insignia blazoned on the back, ripped jeans, a stained white t-shirt and black steel toe-caps completed the ensemble of one who belonged on the streets. Those same boots gave him an extra two inches of height, a small but noticeable difference from his standard. This was not the only mark of subterfuge on his body however, short dyed ginger hair adorned his scalp and his eyes were of a brown-green hue. His skin, naturally pale like most from Poland, had been stained slightly to mimic a slight tanning, and his appropriated hair colour explained the rest. Finally, he wore a form of transparent gum-shield that caused his lower jaw to jut out thuggishly, changing the structure of his face subtly. All in all, he looked a lot different.
It was this man that had been asking the wrong questions to the wrong people. Although that all depended on whose perspective you looked at it from. Everything Lekh did was testing, he was gauging the worthiness of his chosen organisation with a keen and very experienced eye. He wanted to see how and when the Syndicate, or more likely its affiliates, reacted to his probing. Like a fisherman dangling his bait over a river of criminality, it was only a matter of time until he got a bite. His wait was finally over, an impressive three days after his first overly forward question in a dingy bar.
There were two of them, low level enforcers judging by the thuggish look took about them. The tire irons they held low to their sides were painfully obvious to Lekh as he continued to nonchalantly stroll down the street, spotting an alley-way to his left up ahead. Their footsteps echoed behind him in the quiet street, it being an off day for clubbers and far too early to boot, he couldn’t fault them on their timing at least even if their approach left much to be desired. Even as he walked with a calm air his mind raced, should he kill them or incapacitate them? He had both firearm and knife on his person, not to mention a whole host of other nasty trickery, but if this was a test for him then killing them might be a fail. He was determined to make a good impression, organisations don’t grow as large as the Shroud Syndicate by ignoring talent, and he had just a little talent of his own.
Resolving not to kill the hapless men following him, as their weapons professed they too were unlikely to be trying to kill him, Lekh quickly darted into the alley-way. The surprised grunt from behind followed by running footsteps confirmed his already strong suspicions, and they pursued him even as he turned to face them. His hands rose in a mock peaceable gesture and they advanced, blunt objects held aloft, with a dumpster caught between them.
“You’ve bin askin the wrong sorta questions ginge.” One of them said as he approached, Lekh couldn’t really tell them apart as they both looked like the most generic rough-sorts he had ever seen. They were almost laughably similar in fact, both with big bald white heads and scarred faces with half their teeth knocked out. He concealed a grin behind a hand raised in mock fear, stuttering out a poor response, setting them at ease. There was nothing those sorts liked more than a man too afraid to fight. Lekh wasn’t afraid, he found fighting an unnecessary inconvenience most of the time, but in this case showing a little flair was in his greater long term interest. As the two reached the dumpster Lekh abruptly stopped and the first of the thugs filed into the gap with the other close behind. It was then that he struck, his aura lashing out in front of him in near nauseating levels. The poor mental discipline of the street roughs was evident as Lekh charged, the first had stumbled back from the effect and the one behind had lowered his weapon. As Lekh’s right hand had risen in front of his face his left hand adorned itself with steel, and that brutally efficient weapon allowed him to knock the first of the thugs down with a sucker-punch of epic proportions. The cracking of the man’s jaw was audible from outside the alleyway as he reeled and collapsed, knocked unconscious. The second man reacted better, he had almost risen his weapon again as Lekh came in low, his right forearm clamping down on his enemies, stranding his weapon in the air and exposing his side. The repeated blows from Lekh’s armoured left hand cracked ribs and generally lay waste to the thug’s body, before he finished him with an upper-cut. It was dirty, but efficient.
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Even as the second man collapsed, grunting and crying out in pain, Lekh heard movement from the end of the alley. It seemed someone had been watching after all.
At the end of the alleyway stood a woman, attired in a conservative yet clean-cut business blazer and skirt combo with a distinct velvety purple blouse underneath. Her jet black hair was draped down to her shoulders, curled and waved to slightly cover her face. Her face showed her age to most likely entering her early thirties, while her face still exuded young, feminine beauty the small hints of future wrinkles and the glint of experience in her eyes hinted at a wiser, more careful individual.
To Lekh, she said nothing, a quick glance to the two enforcers writhing on the floor was the only hint that she acknowledged his actions at all. She bore no signs of panic or fear from the occurrence, nor did she flare her nose in anger. Her expression was only that of a small smile, a hint of intrigue and amusement from the sudden display of violence that had erupted in the back alley, a knowing gaze at the surroundings seemed to hint that she may have foreseen this outcome.
This appearance was short-lived, however, as it seemed the female observer was quick to leave the scene once it had expectedly played out, and with a turn on her heel, she made a slow but deliberate exit.
To any career criminal, this situation would be unusual. Traditionally, the observer was supposed to make sure the target was either dead or learned their lesson by the end of the hit, and if not the observer was supposed to finish the job or report back if the job was botched. However, she did not bolt off in a panic, nor had she drawn a weapon and tried to gun Lekh down where he stood. Instead, her movement was deliberate, her pace fast enough to get some headway, but slow enough for the Polish metahuman to follow at a brisk stride. She was moving down the busy, crowded streets back towards the busier, ritzier side of the French Quarter, to the flashy lounges of Little Paris.
She was not looking to kill him, she was looking for him to follow her. The question was, would he take the bite to her lure? Or continue fishing on his own?
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Games, games, Lekh loved and hated them. The man stepped over the writhing brutes with a discontented air, perhaps a few moments after the woman had made her departure. She had seized the advantage by offering to lead him and Lekh wasn’t sure he wanted to play the game that way. Sure, he wanted in on the Syndicate, but there was no certainty that he was getting it just by following some broad down the high-street. Business was already picking up, the night was drawing on and there was fun to be had any day for the rich and aimless. He reached the end of the alley with an observant glance, checking he wasn’t walking into a trap. Satisfied he picked out the tail-end of the departing lady, her pace brisk enough to pursue at his leisure he took one final look around and then set off after her. If this was still part of a test he was determined to succeed.
His steps carried him through the French Quarter to a region he was not yet familiar with. His brother’s club was settled on the outskirts of Little Paris, an area of affluence and class that the younger Antol brother could not easily buy his way into with money alone. If nothing else, he wouldn’t follow her in like a fool. Every step was carefully placed, weaving in and out of crowds he discarded his mouth-piece and turned his jacket inside out to reveal a plain brown overcoat. He was most at home in a crowd, but that did not mean his guide would not have experienced people pursuing them. It was in his best interest to make any pursuit as difficult as possible. It seemed his mysterious guide meant to take him into the lion’s den.
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The woman did not have Lekh follow her very far into Little Paris before the glitz and glamour began to overwhelm the senses. Arguably the wealthiest part of town, the section was filled to the brink with wealthy men and women willing to spend their fortunes on a night out on the town. While being a modern addition to the healthy city of Lost Haven, Little Paris had a classic feel to it, as if it was built with the intention of looking like it never left the 1940s. The Broadway-style theaters were already ablaze with excited ticket holders looking to be engrossed in tonight 3 act plays, the nightclubs and lounges echoed with the sounds of music and laughter, the clink of champagne glasses faintly ringing even to an outsider at the entrance of each passing bar. Indeed it was a sight to behold, a treasure among the dense city of Lost Haven accessible only by those who had the cash to sustain it.
Of course, this did not stop the woman in black, gliding through the crowds like it was second nature, shifting in and out of gatherings as if she was a mere dust cloud among the sandstorm. She occasionally looked back, seeming to make sure Lekh was following her as she navigated the clustered streets of men in three-piece suits and woman wearing their best dresses. With every glance, a flash of a knowing grin as she waltzed from street to street, her goal ever ahead for what was at least 45 minutes, keeping herself within visual range with the Polish professional, but not enough for him to ever catch her without sticking out like a sore thumb, keeping the bait close but not within biting distance of her potential fish.
Within a few more minutes, the woman came to a stop at a large lounge by the name of 'Heaven's Gate', its name plastered in a neon sign high above the entrance. Outside stood a pair of large men, attired in a three-piece suit that barely hid both their impressive musculature and the concealed firearms that would be detectable by only the trained eye, standing at either side of the doorway as Lost Haven's elite came through the doorways. The women, undaunted, walked directly up to one of the men who immediately brought their undivided attention to her, one lowering his head down to meet her whispers. What was said was minimal, a few whispers and nods, but during their conversation the enigmatic woman in black sent her gaze directly to Lekh, motioning to him as he continued before walking through the door, the doorman returning to his post as soon as the conversation ended. She motioned for Lekh to follow as she passed into the doorways, surely she would not be planning a trap in such an establishment, would she?
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Lekh had donned a fashionable trilby by the time he was in sight of ‘Heaven’s Gate’. In the dark his jeans weren’t too far off stylish suit trousers but the moment he walked into any patch of illumination the jig was up. He had expected the Syndicate to have high connections, but nothing could have prepared him for the affluence he had waltzed into. Painfully aware that he stuck out like a sore thumb due to unforeseeable circumstances evolving around him he was still making it as difficult as possible to pick him out. Or so he thought, as his mark walked right up to two bouncers at the front entrance of the lounge prior mentioned and then gestured noticeably towards him.
“Kurwa.”He didn’t like it, there were really only two paths laid out for him. Either he was getting in with the boss, completely under his terms with little room for negotiation, or he was being led to his death. If it was the latter they would find him a costly corpse, his hand tightened over the steel knuckles and he could release his pent in aura at a whim, giving him vital time to turn an ambush into the exact opposite for the muscle men or anyone else further inside. Re-assured, if still a little apprehensive, he crossed the street towards the lounge and prepared to head on in.
The bouncers immediately snapped to Lekh's attention as soon as he got within a few feet of the door, the quick turn of their heads indicating the priority of whatever the woman in black had told them. However, they did not arm themselves, nor did they block Lekh's entrance when he made the attempt. In fact, they opened the door for him, gesturing to enter the club. It appeared the woman in black wanted him to enter the establishment, but for what purpose was yet to be unfolded.
The club seemed to bear the same classic feel as the entirety of Little Paris, only to the scale of a club and somehow even more high-end. There were few chairs or tables to speak of on the ground floor, most of the clientele seemed keener to stand unless they were near the bar. The place seemed broken into about three floors, each more exuberant than the last both in style and in expense as they evolved into pseudo-balconies on the upper floors, looking over the first floor like vultures over the less fortunate. The ground floor seemed the most packed, groups of entrepreneurs, businessmen, lawyers and inheritors all musing among one another with small talk of their many enterprises. The area was bathed in warm peach lighting, shining off of both the white tiling and the sparkling dresses of the women. The echoes of smooth jazz drifted over the crowds from the band situated on the small, nearby stage overlooking the crowd, cordoned off by velvety ropes, bouncing to the tables above. This was no ordinary club by what Lekh could already hear, this was a place that partnerships were made over martinis and companies were founded over caviar.
As Lekh was taking it in, his train of thought would be interrupted by one of the waitstaff. By now he was already gaining a bit of attention to his person, due to the fact he was far under-dressed and had not by this point sunken into the crowds. Before he could gain his bearings, he would feel a hand at his back, the waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses, the other lightly guiding Lekh to take his lead.
"Where have you been?!?" The waiter spoke aloud, audibly for nearby crowds to take notice of his chastisement and the annoyed look on his face. "You're three hours late and the boss is furious! You didn't call, you didn't give us notice, you didn't even use the service entrance! You can't be expecting to work at an establishment like this and expect policies not to take effect!"
The waiter continued to guide Lekh, but his gaze drifted from the Polish man to the surrounding guests, who were all returning back to their normal conversations. He pulled Lekh in closer to whisper in words only he could hear.
"The madame is waiting for you on the third floor. Once we get to the kitchen, I want you to take the service elevator up there, there will be proper attire waiting for you within." He uttered, his hand firmly on Lekh's back. "Just keep acting ashamed until we get past the kitchen doors so as not to arouse suspicion."
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Lehk, for his part, had discarded his hat now that it served no further purpose. He was underdressed, he was drawing attention, but it was no matter. His calculated eye missed very little and he had made a few assumptions in the short time before the somewhat overly complicated plan to get him through was enacted. His lips turned in a faint smile at the eruption, fearing not that those assembled would remember the face of one so low in their estimations. However, he was nothing if not flexible, acquiescing to the waiter’s demands he bowed his back and looked sullen and frustrated. He mumbled out a barely audible apology in broken English, and listened carefully as the waiter explained the plan.
Lekh and the waiter carried themselves to the kitchen with no incident, indeed those working seemed far too busy at task to pay attention to the shabbily dressed man and his guide as he was all but bundled into the service elevator. His wait was short and he emerged in smart evening wear in the form of a black tuxedo and shiny brown shoes. One would find it amazing how quickly he went from sticking out to looking like every other man in the establishment, if they cared to look for such things. Unsurprisingly, he had released his aura carefully inside the elevator, blinding any cameras to his presence. Part of the reason Lekh made such a good spy was simple, his power prevented his picture being taken by any source he had yet encountered.
He dropped his clothes negligently behind a tall-backed chair in the room and then looked for his benefactor, wondering just where the night planned to take him. He had transferred all his equipment to the various pockets and hidden places one tended to keep such things, and found it odd that the armed bouncers had not prevented him entering with such an arsenal. Perhaps they were overly confident, or they believed they had some hold over him? He was sure to find out soon, as he came across the woman who had led him to this place.
“Well then, you have led me a merry chase this evening, have you not, shall we talk?”-----------------
"Of course, Mr. Lekh, feel free to have a seat, make yourself comfortable if you'd like." The woman said, leaning back in her chair with an arm resting on the nearby table, a hand wrapped around a glass of scotch as she lazily gazed out to the crowds below. They were now located on one of the private balconies, overlooking the floors below to see all the collaborations of wealthy men and women. Save for the two armed guards standing near the doorway, the pair were alone, though the guards were more scenery than anything else. She made another gesture to the other free seat, then motioned for a waiter passing by the doorway as well. "Have whatever you'd like to drink as well, though I imagine this won't be a terribly long conversation, considering what your brother has told us along with the actions you have taken leading up to this moment."
The woman knocked back a bit of her scotch, shifting her legs as she slid back into the seat, her eyes briefly studying the man before looking back out to the crowds below. "My name is Miss Vale, I am the proprietor of Heaven's Gate, but both you and I know by this point that this lounge, while profitable, isn't at the forefront of my concerns. As you can imagine, my employer has taken notice of your current affairs, the way you've been clumsily barging into our affairs and asking blatant questions about an organization who takes care to keep our operations a little bit more secretive than you've been led to believe." She began to run her hand along the rim of the glass absent-mindedly, staring out into the empty air, "However, the its not the kind of questions you asked, but the way you went about it. Barely three days off the boat and you're asking ill-advised questions about who runs the streets. That's not a fool asking silly questions, that's someone wanting to ascertain information." Miss Vale glanced over to Lekh, giving him a soft smile. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you would want something like this to happen, especially with the display you gave in the alleyway. Rather than continue to play the cat-and-mouse game of you testing us and us sending men to visit you, we'd rather be up front with it and ask what it is you want? Judging by your relationship with your brother and your fresh arrival into the city, we're curious. Are you looking to attack us? Give us pause in our operations? Or are you seeking employment? You've made your presence known, Mr. Antol, we've handed you the microphone and set up a stage, now it's time for you to give your speech."
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Lekh smiled amiably and took the seat that was offered to him, reclining with his right leg crossed over the left, his expression one of peaceable intent, so to speak. He waved away the waiter though, it wasn’t good to be too chummy, nor too trusting.
“No, thank you.” He smiled at the mention of his brother.
“Ah Adrian, ever the snitch.” Lekh’s eyes swept the view from the balcony, taking it in without really dwelling upon what he was seeing. His ears and his mind were fixed on loftier matters, namely the words pouring from the woman’s lips.
“Clumsy, Miss Vale?” He asked with mock seriousness.
“I resent that. Those questions brought me here into your lovely company did they not? And in less than a week, no mean feat.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Never mind that though.” His hands rested on the table and his leg unfolded to plant upon the ground, declaring his lack of ill intent.
“As you so eloquently put it this is my opportunity to make a speech, though I would rather call it a sales pitch.” His accent was soft, but there, Polish without a doubt.
“However you may wonder what product it is I am selling, and why I would go to such trouble to do so? Of course you might, but if you were to only consider what you know of my activities since entering your lovely city you would realise I have only advertised one product.” He paused for dramatic effect, half wishing he had picked up a drink to sip.
“That product is of course, myself.”He leaned back for a moment to gauge her expression, subtly leaking his aura into the air, saturating her with it, before concluding succinctly.
“So to answer your question, my intent is quite simply the latter motive you provided, Miss Vale. I am seeking employment, and I believe your Shroud Syndicate to be sufficient to purchase my services.”-----------------
"You misunderstand what I meant by 'clumsy'." Vale said, giving the man a brief glance before taking another sip of her drink. "I actually think it was very well done, the way you made yourself known to us in such a public way to the point where you could not be ignored. If this wasn't your end goal it would be a catastrophe, but my employer tends to have a sixth sense regarding people's motives, especially when they so publicly ask about an organization that keeps itself so heavily in the dark."
Her expression barley wavered when Lekh explained his motives, leaning back in her chair. "Selling yourself as the product? Well, I'm all ears, Mr. Lekh." She shifted in her seat slightly to angle herself more towards him, slowly giving the man more of her attention. "Though you will have to be more specific in what you can provide before our organization can entertain your request. Are you interested in shipments? Scouting? Diplomatic ventures?" Her words were well-placed, hinting at sinister meanings but on the surface addressed benign positions, but as the aura began to permeate the air, her words began to get a little sloppy, giving more than they should, "Given the display in the alleyway I could see enforcing as one of your talents. Or is this a proposal regarding certain...metahuman qualities? Lord knows that in this day and age the true potential of a person is impossible to read at a surface level, anyone could have powers beyond what they say. So why not tell me more about what you offer?"
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“Well, Miss Vale, as you seem so interested.” Lekh smiled, and toned down his aura a tad, he didn’t want it to be too obvious after the fact for the woman to realise she had been mentally manipulated.
“My skill-set lies, quite simply, in acquisitions. I gather rare items, information, even people.” His eyebrows raised as he said people, making it obvious there was a double meaning even as his smile grew broader.
“However, I am not opposed to branching out, so to speak. You will find that I am sufficient for any task you could set a single skilled individual, perhaps more than sufficient. However, I would not have you take me at my word. You need only set me a task Miss Vale, something you have been having difficulty with, perhaps, and I will show you that my ability matches my word. Believe me when I say you will not be disappointed. Once you have seen that I can produce results I am sure we can discuss trifles like pay and other services you will then provide me at a later date, no?”-----------------
There was a brief silence after Lekh made his offer, Vale’s eyebrow raised and a half-smirk on her face as the offer was visibly contemplated. Sitting back in her chair, the businesswoman glanced over the balcony at the crowds below once more as her finger traced the rim of her glass.
“I must say, Mister Lekh, you are certainly confident in your abilities, and your way with words is quite convincing.” She mused, pulling the drink of the table for a quick drink, her face shriveling at the sting slightly as it passed her lips before setting it back down. “You come across as if you speak from experience, but then again we both know in the kind of business we are in, we cannot simply assume from speculation.”
With her words, she pulled a folded cell phone from her blazer pocket, placing it lightly on the table.
“You came at an opportune time, we are just in the middle of tracking down something….particularly important for our employer, and we need someone to get a direct location.” She said, edging the phone towards Lekh. “Although the direct information is a bit fuzzy, we are in need of eyes on the street that may be able to find it quicker than the usual channels. These phones we provide are unlicensed and bear no GPS, so there is no chance of your signal tracing back to you, while we can feed you more info as more things come to light.” He motioned to the phone. “If you take that phone, we can keep in touch and I'll tell you the target of your search. If you leave it where it is, then consider our business over.”
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Lekh's eyes glanced at the phone, unperturbed. Technology was a little unreliable around him, but it looked sturdy and simple enough, older models tended to be a little more resilient to his aura. Still, he'd have to place a caveat on communications with him. He placed one hand on the phone and slid it towards himself, still smiling.
"I accept of course, Miss Vale. If you simply provide me with a goal I will secure it for you, and then perhaps you will let me meet your superior, hmm?" He looked at her for a moment, before flicking the phone into his palm.
"One thing though, Miss Vale, if you intend to contact me through this I would advise you to send messages, what is it you say..." He thought for a moment.
"Ah, text, yes have your people text me relevant information, no calls." He wasn't about to tell her the reason was that his aura tended to scramble phone-calls, where-as with enough time a message would get through even if the phone was saturated in his aura. It was the best way for him use phones, one of the few downsides to his ability.
"Will that be suitable?""Yes.”
"Is there anything else then, Miss Vale?"Miss Vale gave a small nod, waving Lekh off with a free hand as she stared off the balcony, her attention no longer focused on the Polish man.
“That will be all, for now." She said. "Message us with any relevant details, we will keep in touch."
I’m sure you will.
