Email to Pete and Alison from Domino
Jan. 13th, 2005 03:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_communicationTo: [my favorite brit], [blonde busybody]
From: [lady luck]
Subject: mutual not-friends
Pete, the reason you're getting this should be obvious. Blaire, consider this me being cooperative; I do listen when Nathan talks, and he did tell me you were helping handle this.
I was sitting in one of my favorite nightspots here in Berlin last night. (Remember the Silver Wings club, Pete? Where we... oh, wait, Blaire's reading this. Whoops.) Anyway, I was rather enjoying a cocktail whose name I can't remember, when this decrepit-looking old geezer comes over and plants himself at my table. I tried to tell him that I don't do old people. Then he introduced himself as Colin MacInnis.
I said something along the lines of "Oh, so you're the old rat bastard?" He said, and I quote directly, "Watch your language, young lady."
I pondered killing him on principle. Then he told me he had several people covering me from various spots in the club. I thought about killing him anyway, but, you know... ricochets. I'm going soft.
From what I gathered, he wanted me to play messenger girl. I found this highly irritating, suffice to say, and proposed cutting off choice-if-undoubtedly-wizened bits and stuffing them down his throat. He seemed very, very insistent that he needed to talk to Nathan, though. Kept saying that there were things he had to know, that sort of vague and annoying crap.
Not that I want to see the rat bastard talking to Nate in any case, but why go through me? Blaire, did you do something? You did, didn't you. Why am I not surprised?
Anyway. I kept telling him no. He kept giving me this terribly disapproving look. Then things started to get a little hazy, and well, can you believe the asshole had somehow talked the waiter or the bartender or someone into drugging that very nice cocktail? Clever way around the luck power. Really. Me and my pounding headache are very impressed.
In any case, I'm presuming they dragged me out of the club, because I woke up on the opposite side of the city from the safehouse this morning, with no cell phone and a really foul taste in my mouth. By the time I got back home, the son of a bitch had at least six hours' head start. GW did manage to track him to a private flight that had lifted off four hours earlier. No flight plan, obviously.
I am... a little perturbed by the whole thing, and if I find out he had one of his pet telepaths leave anything in my head, I'm going to hunt the bastard down and feed him his entrails. And I mean that literally. It makes me nervous, given what he did to Nate. Think Xavier would mind if I popped over sometime soon and let him take a look?
Dom
PS: The reason I didn't CC Nate in on this should be perfectly bloody obvious, I'd think. Especially given New Year's.
From: [lady luck]
Subject: mutual not-friends
Pete, the reason you're getting this should be obvious. Blaire, consider this me being cooperative; I do listen when Nathan talks, and he did tell me you were helping handle this.
I was sitting in one of my favorite nightspots here in Berlin last night. (Remember the Silver Wings club, Pete? Where we... oh, wait, Blaire's reading this. Whoops.) Anyway, I was rather enjoying a cocktail whose name I can't remember, when this decrepit-looking old geezer comes over and plants himself at my table. I tried to tell him that I don't do old people. Then he introduced himself as Colin MacInnis.
I said something along the lines of "Oh, so you're the old rat bastard?" He said, and I quote directly, "Watch your language, young lady."
I pondered killing him on principle. Then he told me he had several people covering me from various spots in the club. I thought about killing him anyway, but, you know... ricochets. I'm going soft.
From what I gathered, he wanted me to play messenger girl. I found this highly irritating, suffice to say, and proposed cutting off choice-if-undoubtedly-wizened bits and stuffing them down his throat. He seemed very, very insistent that he needed to talk to Nathan, though. Kept saying that there were things he had to know, that sort of vague and annoying crap.
Not that I want to see the rat bastard talking to Nate in any case, but why go through me? Blaire, did you do something? You did, didn't you. Why am I not surprised?
Anyway. I kept telling him no. He kept giving me this terribly disapproving look. Then things started to get a little hazy, and well, can you believe the asshole had somehow talked the waiter or the bartender or someone into drugging that very nice cocktail? Clever way around the luck power. Really. Me and my pounding headache are very impressed.
In any case, I'm presuming they dragged me out of the club, because I woke up on the opposite side of the city from the safehouse this morning, with no cell phone and a really foul taste in my mouth. By the time I got back home, the son of a bitch had at least six hours' head start. GW did manage to track him to a private flight that had lifted off four hours earlier. No flight plan, obviously.
I am... a little perturbed by the whole thing, and if I find out he had one of his pet telepaths leave anything in my head, I'm going to hunt the bastard down and feed him his entrails. And I mean that literally. It makes me nervous, given what he did to Nate. Think Xavier would mind if I popped over sometime soon and let him take a look?
Dom
PS: The reason I didn't CC Nate in on this should be perfectly bloody obvious, I'd think. Especially given New Year's.
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Reply to all
Date: 2005-01-13 10:32 am (UTC)Yeah, I know, I'm not being reassuring, but that's not why you emailed me, is it?
(Although I suspect if he's done anything, he'll have dumped information in your brain, and probably not a lot else. He's got to know how much you mean to Nate.)
We'll meet you in New York someplace - let me know when you get here, and we'll make arrangements.
We'll get this sorted out.
Pete
Reply to all
Date: 2005-01-13 12:28 pm (UTC)(And this as a means to get a message through to Nathan still gets him in the hotseat. The man needs to take manners classes, I swear.)
Alison
Reply to Pete
Date: 2005-01-13 04:23 pm (UTC)Did I mention that I'm in a really fucking bad mood?
Don't tell Nate about any of this, please? If there's something there, Charles can get rid of it. If it's information, just say you got it somewhere else. I have a strong suspicion that finding out someone's been messing around with me would be the straw that breaks the camel's back. And he's just starting to sound sane again.
Barring Xavier finding anything really bad, we're going to turn right around and get back on a plane. If this derails my plan to go do fun things to French bastards in Africa this month, I'm going to be really pissed.
Dom
Reply to Alison
Date: 2005-01-13 04:30 pm (UTC)I won't give you the rest of the rant I gave him, because you don't really want to hear it. But I'll ask you, like I asked him, not to say anything to Nate. I know what happened on Muir with that bastard Joe, and Amanda told me about what happened with her when she got to Berlin. He's just starting to sound a little less frustrated, and I don't want to see MacInnis wind up pushing him merrily over the edge.
Domino
Re: Reply to Pete
Date: 2005-01-13 05:24 pm (UTC)As for Nate, well, I'm certainly not telling him anything until we know the score better. After that, well, as long as there's no reason to tell him the full story, I've won't tell him, if you don't want to.
But you know Nate won't thank us for not telling him, and I'll lay really good odds that he'll be meeting MacInnis again at some point, and I think he'd be better off with the full picture of how the fuck operates. Also, I'm bloody sure MacInnis will make some refence to it, and if it's a shock to him, it gives the shit more to put Nate off balance with, and stop him thinking clearly.
So, you know, think about it.
I'll see you soon.
Pete.
Argh...
Date: 2005-01-13 05:43 pm (UTC)I'll leave it up to you, okay? Depending on what happens, I mean. I'm not even sure I'm thinking clearly right now. I don't know what the asshole slipped me, but my head still hurts.
Getting on a plane, now. Really.
Dom