The Evil League of Evil


adam_icon.gif cardinal_icon.gif ethan_icon.gif

Scene Title The Evil League of Evil
Date April 23, 2009

Shooters Bar and Bistro

A place that used to be a cafe and is making a slow progression towards being a dive bar. During the day, the balcony and a good portion of the sidewalk is taken up by outdoor chairs and tables, where people can enjoy a beer as well as a sandwich or whatever else is on their menu - a decent, if simply array of bar food. During the evening, unless it's a warm night, these are taken inside, and the kitchens are closed. A wide variety of beer is available, along with hard liquor and maybe a few wine labels, but nothing fancy. The interior decor is similar to traditional British pubs, with a hardwood bar and brick wall. There's an old pool table towards the back, along with a dart board. The building is actually two storeys high, but whatever is upstairs is inaccessible to the general public.

The sun's gone down over Staten Island, the polluted skies over New York City showing precious few of the stars to glitter as diamonds against the black velvet of the heavens. Of course, nobody here in the bar can see that through the wooden roof of the bar and bistro, what of the roof is even visible through the thick miasma of cigarette smoke collecting there this evening.

All those anti-cigarette laws went out the window the minute the bridge went down.

It's off at a quiet corner of the bar - unpopular due to its lack of escape routes, although certainly a good place to watch people coming and going - that Cardinal's settled in, his chair canted back until it's on two legs with his shoulders resting to the wall behind him. Booted feet are kicked up, resting on the table one ankle over the other, and he's idly toying with a beer bottle in his hands, watching the bar's general population and noisy drinking through dark sunglasses.

Almost always dressed sleekly this average man has an intimidating and proffessional aura about him. He holds himself with a militaristic discipline, and his movements suggest a no-nonsense attitude. He is balding though still manages to look fairly handsome. His facial features are set firmly as if in stone. He is well built, with broad shoulders and his frame seems to be absolutely solid.

Another cigarette pressed into the blue-ish turquoisey whatever color that is glass in the middle of the table. Ashes float up as smoke flows out of his lips.

Sunglasses at night seems to be a popular trend here, the man sitting at the table has a large pair of gold trimmed aviators reasting heavily on the bridge of his nose. Smoke wafts up past his shades, as another cigarette is produced from the red carton. His lips are wet dully before the white cancer stick is placed on the edge of his lips. A hood reasts heavily over his brow, the brown sweatshirt hood obscuring his identity fairly well. His thumb brushes through the thick stubble on his chin as he fits the cig perfectly into his mouth. His thick hand reaches forward to grab the large glass in front of him. The glass rests in front of him as his thumb idly traces the glass. His eyes watching from behind the black lenses deadly.

He's been here a while, sitting quietly having kept the same glass for some time now. He doesn't seem to be doing anything in particular. The Wolf is waiting…

Adam doesn't quite look like he belongs. He's wearing his usual three piece suit and doesn't even have any sunglasses. But if there's something to be sad for him, he absolutely doesn't look afraid. That strange sort of confidence either might look attractive or stupid. He immediately walks towards the bar and says, "Do you happen to have any merlot?" he questions, "Preferably thirty years old or so?" at the dirty look he recieves, he frowns, "Well…some American 'beer' then, yeah?" he turns at the counter and looks around, clearly on the hunt for something. He smiles at any stares or glares, but finally sees a man in the corner. He might have noticed the Wolf too, save for his current paraphenalia. Having acquired his target and his American swill, he steps forward and makes his way towards the corner, heading straight for one Brian Cardinal.

The Wolf's not given too much attention, not from the man that's seated off in that quiet corner in the casual leisure that suggests his table is open for business — he looks like he belongs, in those clothes, with that manner, and the shadow-thief doesn't see any reason to disturb him there. Whatever his story is, it doesn't involve Cardinal, at least not that he knows of.

On the other hand, the man in the suit draws Richard's attention like flies to a rotting carcass. One leather-gloved hand lifts, nudging down the shades just a touch so that red-tinged eyes bloodshot from exposure to the light can regard him more openly. As he approaches, he's sized up, but there's no verbal greeting from the man just yet.

His thumb flicks over the top of the lighter as the flame is produced and slowly brought up. The red heat flicks along the end of the cigarette slowly catching it. Bringing his thumb up the flame of the lighter dies out as it is set back down on the table. A new puff is taken.

His eyes peer through the dark frames through the smoke a few tables away to where Cardinal dwells. Then his eyes flit over to the man approaching. He makes little to no reaction to the man's presence outwardly. A puff of smoke is given as the Wolf idly plays with the glass of whatever alcohol he found tonight.

The man slowly leans back into his chair, letting the cig bounce around in his lips, guiding it loosely with his tongue. He doesn't seem to be too interested in Cardinal or Adam, or at least that impression is not given.
Adam steps up to Cardinal's table and smiles, "Hey, can't get a drink worth drinking here, yeah?" he shakes his head, "Ah, but I suppose that's what bound to happen in a place like this. Mind if I sit?" he motions to a chair and then immediately sits down. He glances around, "Hell of a place here." he then turns back to Cardinal, "How are you doing Richard….can I call you Richard?" he leans back, taking a sip of his swill. He gives a face and puts his bottle down, "You know in Sweden you can get a beer that tastes like cherries…/cherries/."

The barrage of friendly chattering is met with a bemused regard from over the edge of those shades, and then Cardinal's finger presses the shades back up fully along the bridge of his nose. Slowly, one ankle lifts from the other, and his feet drop down to land upon the floor before his chair. The seat's front legs clack against the floor as he lets it drop down, and he leans forward just enough to rest an arm on the table's edge, one brow lifting to Adam.

"You're a long way from Sweden, fancy-boy," he points out with a hint of amusement stirring through his tone, "So. Who are you, and what can I help you with?"

Smoke rolls off his lips, a smirk working up his features at Cardinal's reaction to Adam. The man leans back before taking the cigarette out of his mouth. An exhale is given as the man holds the white thing idly between two fingers. The glass is gripped loosely before being brought up and poured back briefly.

Reaching down, the man watches the backs of the two men. His other hand drifts from the table towards his chest, slowly drifting down into the depths of the jean jacket draping over his brown sweatshirt and broad shoulders. His hand remains within the jacket for a moment, as the man watches and listens.
Adam leans back a bit, slipping the beer across the table, apparently deciding to not take anymore of it. He smiles at Cardinal's return, "Fancy-boy? Yes, I suppose I am." he says with a bit of a chuckle. Taking Cardinal's non response to his request, he apparently takes it as assent, "Well, Richard. I'm looking to hire people." he says, "And I'm here to determine if you're employable…I get the whole…I'm a loner, sunglasses at night business, I do. The question, is if you're the type who won't follow orders or if it just takes a certain amount of money to wet your lips." he leans forward, "And if you're just a thief or have more…marketable skills."

The faintest of smiles twitches upon Cardinal's lips at the words spoken, a second brow arching up to join the first before both fade back into the shadow of his sunglasses. After a moment's consideration of the other man, he notes in wry tones, "You know, most people do their homework about their… prospective employees before they go meet them, Mister…?" A subtle jerk of his chin towards the man, "I don't recall getting an introduction yet."

The cigarette is tossed into the blue ashtray, and for a moment the man watches the end of it burn. Then his eyes slowly move up and rest on Adam. His head tilts a bit, a remnant from ages past. In more than one way. The man rises from his chair, his hand drifting from out of the jean jacket. But it's not alone, black metal rests snugly in his hand as he steps away from the table. His boots thud against the floorboard as he walks forward coolly.

"Munroe." Comes the raspy, gravelly voice as the cold silencer of the weapon goes to rest against the neck of the aforementioned man's neck.

"Adam Munroe." Comes the distinct cockney accent of Ethan Holden. "Whot the fuck are you doing 'ere?"
Adam appears to about to be ready to respond to Cardinal when someone makes introductions for him. He ahs, raising his hand, not apparently afraid, but certainly cautious. His hands raise on either side and says, "Oh, listen friend, that might not be the best course of action for everyone." he pauses as he seems to think slowly, "I know that voice.." he says, "All broody and ruthless with a tiny smattering of west end. But I would have thought for sure you died with Kaz."

The approach of the hooded fellow from behind the man in the suit brings no visible reaction from the shadow-thief, the nearly opaque shades not even allowing his eyes to give the direction of his attention away. Then that gun's brought up, and Cardinal calmly brings the bottle of beer to his lips, canting it back to let the amber foam and liquor spill over his tongue, down his throat. Cheap home-brew. He leans back once more, watching the reunion with an expression of mild curiousity.

"Old friends, I take it?"

"Whot?" Comes the voice from out of the hood once again, this time with some feigned shock. "Think you're the only one 'oo can last forever?" Ethan asks his free hand coming up and resting on the man's opposite shoulder, giving something resembling a friendly squeeze. "Friends as much as…" The man trails off when he fails to find an analogy hanging out in his brain.

"Listen." The silencer is pressed into the man's skin, "'ate to ruin your mysterious visit with your new boyfriend, but you need to tell me why the fuck you're out 'ere. And I'll give you a 'int. If it 'as anything to do with our mutual friend, and don't you say 'is name again, I will show you 'ow many bullets are in my toy 'ere." The Brit says sternly, glancing up at Cardinal. A little apologetic smile is flashed to the man. "Sorry to ruin your night." He says oh so politely.

Adam tilts his head lightly at Cardinal's question, "More like old friends of an old friend." he says politely. "You know how these surprises always come up at job interviews…wife burned the roast, child fell off a bike, man comes up with a gun." he pauses thoughtfully, "I'm hiring employees, as you can see, Ethan. Care for some employment?"

"Oh," Cardinal's beer is brought up, a tilt of its neck towards Ethan at his words to punctuate his response, "Not at all. It's quite enlightening, actually, do go on." A smile curls faintly to his lips, and he settles back in the chair with a faint creak of protesting wood, shoulders thumping solidly to the wall behind him. The pair are observed, shamelessly, as they speak.

It's his table, after all. He's sure they don't mind.

The man with the gun tilts his head back letting out an exasparated sigh. "Is this whot I sound like?" He asks to himself, giving a little shake of his head. "You are really annoying." Glancing over to Cardinal, his tongue slowly goes across his lips. "Are you going to work for this boy?" The Wolf asks, holding the gun steadily. "You want to see a neat trick?"

The safety is flicked off as the former Vanguard soldier looms behind the man, watching him from behind his aviators. "Employment for whot? 'urry the fuck up and stop messing about. I'm gettin' bored and I might shoot you just for the funsies of it."

Adam frowns, "You know, bullets do hurt." he says to Ethan, "It's not friendly. I'm hiring people to follow me help steal some things, kill some people, take down the company, so on and so forth. You know how these things go." he looks over to Cardinal, "The stealing things is where you come in, of course."

"Yes," Cardinal murmurs against the mouth of his beer in vague amusement, "Because that worked out so well for all of you people the last time you tried it." It's a shot in the dark to see if they react, to tell the truth. But the name 'Kaz' is rather similar to another he's heard, and recently. And it fits the conversation.

"And you want me to do the killing." Ethan infers much like a little kid would end his parents sentences. Ethan holds the gun steadily, tilting his head to the side. "You want my skills and everything that means, I have a few terms. If you meet them, I'll end the world for you or whotever the fuck you want." He says dismissively.

The gun remains where it is before he looks up at Cardinal. "And whot is it, you do?"
Adam shrugs a bit, "Well, I want you to do some of the killing…there's actually a lot of killers for hire in New York. But you know, work for me, do what I say, end who I say, that sort of thing. It's like a family company." he pauses, "Ok…let's hear the terms…" he frowns as he glances at Cardinal, "Well, that'll slow up the terms a bit."

At the question in his direction, Cardinal leans forward just a bit once more, the arm holding the beer dropping down to rest upon his knee. "Information and materials acquisition," he replies without missing a beat, a smile just-crooking up at one corner of his lips, "Don't think we've been introduced, just yet, but I suppose it's impolite to ask the man with the gun what his name is."

"Lot of killers for hire in New York, because I 'aven't decided to kill them." Ethan offers as a reason for that fact. "Yet." He adds in, just in case he decides to go on a rampage on every murderer in New York in the not too distant future. It could happen.

"Right, right, you're the grandmaster, all that." Ethan mutters. Immortals, always so arrogant and whatnot. The barrel of the silencer slowly but surely pulls away from Adam's flesh. "No. I don't suppose it is." He murmurs to Cardinal, taking a step away from the blonder of the three.

"Scary motherfucker 'oo kills people." Ethan offers as introduction. "Speaking" he says it in an excited tone, "of killing people. Or at least 'alf killing them, Zarek, Kain. Kain Zarek, 'owever the fuck you say it. All my accounts are dried up as of now." He gives a little shrug. "Fucking Yanks, eh? So, my arms supply isn't as…" He makes a vague gesture with his hand.

"Ridiculously 'uge as usual. Give me a partner, or money, or guns, or whot the fuck ever, so I can go make the little cunt bleed. I also want protection on one individual while I'm away."

Adam relaxes as the gun is taken from his neck. He continues to smile, there was a /slight/ bit of an empty threat in the action anyway. "A partner…what an interesting concept. Ethan, why don't you sit down." he says, "Richard, you don't mind, do you? It's just so much more…" he pauses, "Polite when everyone breaks bread at the same table. Would you care for an awful beer, Ethan?" pointing to his abandoned beer. He hmms, "Well, I haven't found a gun broker as of yet, but money I have ridiculous amounts of. And if need be, I can find you a partner, if that's what you want. Out of curiousity, who is Kain Zarek?" he pauses, "And who do you want protected?"

"The right hand of Daniel Linderman," observes Cardinal in a rather thoughtful tone of voice, answering both the blonde man's query and his own internal thoughts, the edge of a fingernail clicking to the side of his beer bottle in an arrhyhmic manner, "You'n he have have a bit of a tiff, o' Scary Motherfucker?" A shrug of one shoulder to Adam's inquiry about courtesy, jerking a head towards one of the unclaimed chairs.

Ethan places the gun on the table, before taking a seat. It's unloaded, after all. Bringing up his hand the hood is brought back. "I'm just jealous of 'is good looks. Methinks 'e should be taken down a notch." Ethan responds firmly to Cardinal. "If I gave you that name, Adam. I would be as stupid as I look, wouldn't I?" The man rolls his head over to peer at the man, as if asking that question was asking for much too much.

"No beer for me, fanks." The man answers the question, as politely as can be. Even the Wolf can be social.

Adam raises his head a moment, "Everyone has a right hand." he says, "Why can't we have a left hand?" he questions, "Who wants to be my left hand?" he asks. He shakes his head, "Alright…I'll give you the resources you need to kill this man. Hell, at some point, I will likely need Daniel dead as well." he pauses, "And I'll find your person some protection, whoever they may be." he glances towards Cardinal, "What about you. Care for some employment? I don't have a company name. I've been toying with the Monroe detective agency. Or something cheeky like the Evil league of Evil…but I'm just not sure any of those work." his eyes goes wide, "Perhaps we'll have a company wide competition for a name!"

"The Evil League of Evil." It's stated in tremendously dubious tones, and followed by a tug of those shades down Cardinal's nose until they're barely on, his eyes a little bloodshot, both brows crooking upwards in a subtle arch. He regards Adam for a few moments, and then he looks over at the Wolf with a 'is this guy for real?' sort of expression.

"If you try to name yourself again, I'm going to skip everything and shoot you in the fucking face." Ethan answers harshly to Evil League of Evil. "That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever fucking heard." The man says, raising an eyebrow over the aviators. He looks back at Cardinal. "Mate you better watch your fucking mouth. Criminals are edgy people, you say stupid shit like that and we might do something ridiculous like go and shoot children or steal artifacts." Another vague gesture is made.

"Now listen. You probably think you're brilliant, and whot the fuck ever, you're old, 'oo gives a shit. I'm good at whot I do. So you give me an objective I'll show your boys 'ow to get it done."
Adam shakes his head, leaning back a bit in his chair, "That's the problem with today's youth. No appreciation for irony or sardonic humor." he lets out a sigh, "Very well. We'll be going to Japan soon, Ethan. I need you to pick up some hired guns. Enough to boss around and be red shirts if need be." he points to Ethan, "Get it? That's a modern reference, yeah?" he chuckles to himself. Then back to Cardinal, "I'd really like your help as well."

"Japan, eh?" Cardinal taps the mouth of the beer bottle to his chin, lips pursing in consideration of the words of both men. Finally, he lifts his chin in a bit of a questioning gesture towards Adam, asking, "What's the job?"

Ethan tilts his head to the side, bringing up one hand to support his chin. "Japan." He repeats as well, humming quietly. He gives a little shrug to Adam's demand. "I can do that. If the pay is enough." Then he drifts off to silence, allowing Adam and Cardinal time to chit the chat.

Adam watches Cardinal, "Among other activities that you haven't said that you would or would not care to participate in, we'll be breaking into a technological corporation and stealing a…" he pauses, "Well, a piece of paper to be honest, but you know, this is how those corporate espionage things work…millions of dollars over a piece of paper." he glances to Ethan, "Oh, I'm sure we'll talk numbers…but I can assure, your pay will be enough."

Cardinal leans forward once more, and this time the chair scoots inwards with a faint squeak of wooden legs to the flooring. The beer's set off to one side, nothing more than the dregs lingering in the base of the bottle, his head tilting forward a bit to regard the pair over the edge of his glasses. "Well, you haven't mentioned the… other activites," he admits, "As for this paper of yours? I can get it for you, if the pay's right."

"Well and good then. I need to make a few visits then." Reaching into his jacket a small strip of paper is produced, rapidly followed by a pen. A few numbers are scribbled down before its passed over to Adam. "First one you can find me, second one is an arms dealer I know. Name's Deckard. Call 'im Mike Barrows or somethin'." The man says before pushing the paper over then he stands. "You let me know when I can go pay Zarek a visit."

"You two 'ave a great conversation, and if you drink too much just remember. Use protection." He says charmingly, before turning his back to the pair lowering his hand he picks up the gun then puts it in his jacket before parting ways.

Adam lets out an exasperated sigh, "Of course the pay is right. Do you think I'm an eleven thousandaire? I walk into bloody Staten Island in a business suit and hire criminals. I'm a…" he pauses, glancing at Ethan, "What's it you called me? A mastermind? All masterminds are loaded." he tsks. But then his company seems to be leaving. He takes the numbers given and ahs, "Alright, Deckard…Mike Barrows. Fair enough, I'll be in contact with you both shortly." he pauses as he glances to Cardinal, "Do you have a cell phone number? A voice mail? A twitter? I've just learned of these twitter things. They're neat."

"The old man? I'm not sure if he's in the business anymore…" A subtle shake of Cardinal's head at the mention of Deckard, a flicker of a smile twitching across his lips, "…you want weapons? Try Tucker's Pawn Shop, he might be able to hook you up. Or send you to someone who can." That said, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a napkin, patting himself down before drawing out a pen and scribbling a number, sliding it over to Adam, "Give me a call. And having money'n paying it are two different things."

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