Participants:
| Scene Title | Cockroach Strategy |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Fedor pays Tuck a visit. He says he doesn't want Tuck involved, but the pawnie thinks otherwise. He's seen gang wars on Staten before and isn't convinced this is any different. |
| Date | June 10, 2009 |
Tuck's at his usual spot behind the counter, behind the protective layer of bulletproof glass. He's drinking something red, likely tomato juice, from a tumbler and is working on a crossword puzzle. His life is bits of excitement between long stretches of boredom. But this is a nice change to last week when his hand was made of bone and there was a crazy, net wielding maniac in his shop.
From a net wielding maniac, to an airplane wielding one. Fedor slips into the place with just a glance about the joint, the man he's here to see though is behind the partition. "Good evening." Wearing decidedly retro suit, he was quite intentionally playing up his uncanny resemblance to Buddy Holly."I'm Petter Kobrin, A little bird told me you were good people and your sister seems to agree." All smiles, as he meanders up to the glass partition.
Tuck glances at Fedor over the top of his glasses. He raps a pen against the paper and does his best to look disinterested. "Oh yeah?" He clicks the pen and fills in 28 across. "I take it you're one of the suits they've been working for?"
"No, I'm the suit they've been working for. Can I offer you a cigar?"Fedor produces a fine leather bound cigar carrier, and a cigar cutter. "Things are going to get rough very soon, I felt it fair to give you a heads up as to what to expect. After all, your one of Cardinal's friends and so that makes you my friend too. "
Tuck just eyes the cigar, then Fedor himself. "I don't deal with suits. Had bad luck with them. Most of them have either sold me down the river or were cops." He makes another mark on the page and then grabs for the cup to drain a mouthful of V8. "Look, I don't plan on standing in your way. I might even do a little work if I think it's safe. But I'm not about to do what Card is doing and wear your logo and hand out soup. I have enough enemies and enough targets on my ass already."
"Nor am I here to ask you to do such things for me. I have a group of men who are responsible for direct action, and right now I'd say I have all I need."He sets one cigar on the counter, before tucking the rest back in his jacket. "Cardinal says you know how things work here, so I have a vested interest in keeping you and yours alive and safe."And then out comes a plain white card with a magnetic strip on the back, which he sets down on the countertop aside the cigar. "So I come bearing a presents, albeit minor ones."
"I know how things work, yeah. Which is why I'm still alive, y'see. It's why I can keep doing business. I know who not to fuck with." Tuck uses his thumb to push up on the bridge of his glasses. He eyes the card and the cigar. "What do you want? Just…" he rolls a hand. "Out with it, please. Can't stand all these theatrics. I'm a businessman. You tell me what you want from me and I tell you whether or not I'm willing to do it."
Fedor shrugs "Right now, I don't have anything I need from you. I employ your sister, and your good friends with my prized pupil. That means that your well being is my concern. My background is military, not crime so you can trust my motives are entirely as simple as they appear," he slides the card a touch closer, well as closer as he can manage with the partition. "If something goes sideways, this card will get you into the relief camp over on Miller field and into Teterboro airport."
There's a slot underneath the glass for the exchange of small goods, like at a subway station. Tuck reaches for his pack of cigarettes and draws one out. He lights it and watches Fedor as he does so. "And what, praytell, might go sideways there, pally-o?" He scratches the side of his cheek. "What the fuck are you planning to do to my island?"
"The technical term is a low intensity conflict. I've got a lot of aircraft, and a lot of ordinance and I set a lot of them aside just for this island. Once I destroy the worst villains, I have no doubt the national guard and the FBI will swoop in to take all the credit and finish restoring law and order to the island." Fedor's gaze lingers on Tucker, before it wanders along the far wall. "In return I'll likely be rewarded a substantial land grant or some sort've tax refund business to keep me from complaining too loudly. Anyways, as to what could go sideways well there's a lot. You yourself said you had alot of enemies, so this is me trying to give you an escape route nobody but the two of us knows about."
"Okay, ay?" Tuck lifts one finger, eyebrows arched. "…why would I want the fucking Feds here? Or law and order? Bee…" he takes a drag from the cigarette. "Why the fuck are you offering some lowlife Staten pawnie a way off this island? I've lived here for twenty years. I'm part of what you want to take down. I don't live in civilized society. Not now, not ever. Also why would I trust you?"
"I'm not a big fan of the federal government myself, but they're coming to the island. Either I can destroy Logan and his ilk, or we can let Linderman come and play mother hen." Fedor shrugs, casually careening his gaze back towards Tucker. "I'm not a suit anyway, I'm a con man who hit it big. So either we can turn the island around my way, which brings money to everyone involved. Or we can wait for the FBI and the ATF and the DEA and homesec to come in and do building by building searches. Who would you rather have running the island, Linderman or me?"
"Frankly? I don't care." Tuck leans on the counter, cigarette pinched between his lips. He regards Fedor levelly. "I stay out of the way, stay out of trouble. I go to ground if things get bad. I get quieter, sneakier or more legit if the Feds come around. Do you how many changes of the guard I've seen on this island? A lot. And I'm still here." He raps his knuckles on the counter. "And I do that by not throwing in with anyone too deep. Last time I did that I nearly ended up in prison. Would have too, if the bomb hadn't kinda…distracted the authorities."
"I dont want you in deep, Tucker. I have a million people who'll go in deep for a couple bucks. Your friends with my pupil and brother to an employee. I'm not asking for anything, I don't want your money or any favors. I came to do you a kindness, not wrap you up in strings."Fedor slides the cigar, and the card underneath the slot. "This isnt a business call, you have a kindly benefactor."
"There's no such thing as kindness, or something for nothing." Not in Tuck's world. "There's always strings. And there's always expectations." He eyes the card and the cigar. "You can leave that here if you want, but I'm not making any promises that I'll use it." A beat, and then, "You get my sister hurt, and I will get involved. And you won't like it."
"She's not into the dangerous stuff, she didn't really strike me as a combatant. Anyway, bombs will start dropping soon. So stay inside at night, I'll try and give you advanced notice if I have anything planned in your neighborhood." Fedor produces a business card with a flick of his wrist, dropping his business card in the slot too. "Do you speak Russian?"
"My accent's atrocious, but…da." Tuck's lips curl upwards ever so slightly at the corners. "A beat, then, "Bombs? What the fuck, bombs? Are you a madman? There's a lot of innocent people out there."
Fedor continues, but in Russian. Its an Easterner's accent, but finely spoken never the less."Concrete bombs, they don't explode. They fall, and they break things and that's it. I don't want to destroy innocent people, I dont want to raze the island. Anything that freefalls from an aircraft is called a Bomb, even if it doesn't explode. You'll have to forgive me, I tend to spend most of my time around other pilots."
Tuck switches to Russian as well, though as he said, his accent is poor. His vocabulary seems broad enough, but it's clearly not comfortable for him. "I am no pilot. I'm not a soldier, or a freedom fighter or a terrorist. I'm a businessman. I want to keep myself safe, my family safe and nothing else. Maybe a little money to bet on the ponies." A shrug. "I've stayed alive by keeping my head down."
Fedor nods softly "That's as noble a career as any other." Fedor glances back the way he came from. "This is your chance to guide my hand, is there anything beyond the obvious I should hit or not hit? This is, your island after all Tucker. I think the only let's say, civilian target I'm looking at right now is the power grid. Likely blame that bit on Logan, just so I can fix it."
Tuck waves a hand. "I don't go kicking at anthills. And I don't go fucking with unpredictable psychopaths like John Logan. You want to do that? Go ahead. Have fun. But I don't want him coming after me." After all, the man just might know about his kid. And that's one thing that he is willing to fight for. Then, "There's a few nests. Of the real bad fuckers. Murderers, rapists, molesters. Few are hiding out in the ruins of the 'burbs. No one would care if you bombed them out. They'd be happy for it."
"Can you give me some addresses, I'll make them go away in a couple days." Fedor seems suddenly interested in again, targets are always appreciated."I'll tell you what. I'm going to bomb these places, and make them into parking lots. After that, every good target you provide me is worth twenty five hundred dollars. Now I'd prefer you farmed that work out a little, to spread the money around but I'm frankly more concerned with good targets than what you do with money."
Tuck waves a hand again. "Oh no no no no. Have you not been listening to me? I will tell you there are bad people in X direction, but I'm not going to be the one painting targets on peoples' asses. Not because I feel like they should live, but because if it ever gets back that I'm the one pointing them out? I'm fucking dead. And if your little Staten coup fails, then I've got no one to watch my ass. No. That's all I'm telling you."
Fedor throws up his hands "Ah well, fair enough. Was worth a shot. Anyway, if you need anything call me. I'll do what I can for you, and if you see Cardinal tell him I'm looking for him alright? Man's like a stray cat, can never get him when I need him."
Tuck exhales from his cigarette and lifts a hand to cut the hanging smoke. "I'll only call you if I was in deep enough that I thought I could stand to pay you back." He leans back on his chair, springs groaning as he does. "Because despite what you say, I still believe nothing comes for free. And I don't think I want to be in your debt." A flash of teeth. "No offense. And I'll tell Card if I see him. Sometimes he washes up on my doorstep."
Fedor nods "I hope you give me the opportunity to prove you wrong, ask your sister about me." And with that, he casually slips back the way he came. "Be safe, nice meeting you Tuck."
"I already have," says Tuck in a low mumble as he watches Fedor depart. He doesn't return the sentiment of 'nice meeting you.' Men who want power are all the same to him, no matter how pretty the words.
