Adel; Adel; Adel
04 / 28 / 08 - Adel, Mystique
It is very early in the morning when Adel's phone finally rings a return call. So early that the sun is still slumbering beneath the horizon and there are no birds to be heard, despite the fact that the woman on the other end of the line is walking the slow, dark path through a park, surrounded by towering trees. It's 4 am, and Mystique is not sleeping - neither should Adel be, it seems.
A pity, then, that Adel is: he sleeps the sleep of, if not the innocent, the happily corrupt. Luckily, his phone is happy to break this sweet tranquility with an electronic trill. Wakey, wakey! As if it has a mind of its own, his arm snakes from beneath the sheets and covers, hand slapping down across the surface of his bedside table and nearly upsetting a lamp before finding the phone and bringing it to Adel's ear. He grunts a, "Yeah."
"Are you quite awake, Mr. al Razi?" Mystique wants to know, her voice a cool, even thing in the chill of the morning air.
"Not even close to it." Frank directness more a product of his sleep-fogged mind than any intrinsic honesty, Adel rolls over and sits up with a rustle of sheets. He flicks on the light and pulls the phone from his ear to glance at the ID. He mutters a vague, "Fuck," as he brings it back to his ear. Already a little more clear as he speaks, he asks, "How awake do I need to be?"
"Awake enough to have this conversation with me," Mystique replies, and if a faint rumble of amusement bubbles under the alto tones of her adopted voice, surely it's an accident. "I apologize for the hour, but a certain measure of discretion is to be desired."
"Then this must be /very/ discreet." Pausing to yawn, Adel knuckles at his eyes. "If you need me clever, give me time to get coffee or a shower. Otherwise, I think I can manage a conversation."
"Mmm. I can walk alone outside my apartment at this hour," Mystique shares, and there is a moment's pause as she paces several steps before she comes to a halt. "Make coffee while we speak. We'll see how clever you need to be. Tell me what you want from me, and why."
Transferring his phone to his shoulder, Adel tips his head to hold it in place as he rises and goes to find pants. "QuikID. We need to know how it works, so we can figure out how to circumvent it, or thwart it, but we can't get our hands on any protoypes. Or at least, we haven't been able to yet. Even schematics. Anything. They are awful close-lipped about the whole process." On his way to kitchen, a cat lies in wait: trying to avoid stepping on her, he trips and hits the wall hard, which leads to another exasperated curse hissing over the phone. He is having a great morning.
"Yes," Mystique replies, and for a moment there is a flash of something close to exhaustion in her voice. "Extremely." She stirs to pace several more steps and then pauses with a deep frown. "Mr. al Razi?"
Adel grunts a vague, "Yeah?" over the faint noise of cabinets opening, closing. Opening, closing. Opening, clos-- "Where on Earth is the instant. Who doesn't have instant coffee?" he asks, rhetorical in his exasperation.
"Just confirming that you're still alive," Mystique assures.
"Cat," Adel explains shortly, aggravation jagging his tone. He squints suspiciously at coffee beans.
"Ah," Mystique allows, and her tone is broadly understanding. Another pause, another several paces through the dark shadows of the park, and she pulls back to business. "What, precisely, does 'circumvent or thwart' mean?"
"Ideally, mess with the results. False positives, false negatives." A tentative grinding sounds in the background as the coffee grinder chews on air. Adel squints at it a little longer.
There is a surprised silence on the other end of the line, and the steady prowl of her footsteps halts for a moment. Quiet stretches almost to an uncomfortable point.
Adel is rescued by a zombie. Bahir's hand snakes under his arm to pull the coffee beans from him and go to do it properly, leaving Adel to go take a seat before he grinds his finger. "Not entirely sure we want this tech out there, either, so if we can thwart it in production -- well."
"Perhaps," Mystique draws out slowly, "I should ask who 'we' is."
Adel stares blankly at the backsplash of the kitchen wall. "The Court."
"Last time I spoke to Erik, he was in favor of simply finding the nearest facility and applying a great deal of force to it," Mystique murmurs, her voice quiet and dry in the dark.
"Just because he is in favor of that option doesn't mean he can be talked around into waiting to find the best /place/ to apply all that force," Adel says lightly.
"How long have you known Erik?" Mystique replies, a touch pointedly.
Adel checks his wrist, where his watch would be, and which she can't see anyway. The joke is lost. "Regardless."
"Regardless." Mystique echoes the word with a touch of distaste and exhales slowly. "I am not opposed to force, Mr. al Razi," she explains after a moment. "But force for force's sake is simply going to cause more problems." A pause, and then she adds with a twist of her lips, "And the presence of ID technology is useful in its own ways, with a touch of applied creativity."
"Yes, it is," Adel agrees with a hint of dark humor. He takes a deep breath, scent of coffee filling the air. His pet zombie goes to get mugs -- plural. "That's why we need to know how it works."
"The question is, Mr. al Razi - are you quite certain that information I pass to you will not be used to simply-- ah." Her lips turn upward once more in the space of a pause. "Wield a great deal of force in order to salve aging egos, perhaps."
Adel laughs, if briefly. "I think that is not a phrasing I will repeat. I assure you, it is not the bandaging of egos which is our prime cause. If you can help--?"
"Oh, I certainly /can/," Mystique assures. Her fingers tap light against the phone. She falls into a moment's silence.
Adel falls silent, too, but that is because a cup of coffee has been put before him and he pulls it greedily close.
Mystique turns a corner and breaks toward the light of a streetlamp. She draws in a breath. "I will send you the blueprints within the hour. The prototype will take a bit longer. Do not make me regret this decision, Mr. al Razi."
"Mmm, I love coffee," Adel says happily. "And blueprints. I love blueprints. If you can send that, we might be able to get a prototype on our own. I'll make sure that all force is applied with care and precision. Thank you," he finishes, lightness briefly falling away to simple acknowledgement in the last two words.
"You might be able to make a prototype," Mystique assumes. "I can get you one of their advance models. I simply cannot risk it just yet." A pause, filled by the deepening crease of a frown, and then her head dips down. She does not comment on force or Adel's personal promise - or in fact his thanks. Instead, she says, "You know where to reach me."
"You don't need any assistance?" Adel asks between cautious slurps, finally beginning to wake up now that the conversation is nearly over.
"To obtain the prototype? I expect assistance would get in the way," Mystique replies bluntly.
Adel snorts. "Well, in general, I meant. If not, then I will simply wish you luck."
"In general?" Mystique pauses, blinking into the thin pool of light cast by the lampost.
"You're quite used to working on your own, aren't you?" Again, rhetorical, but Adel's voice is clearly amused. "If we can help, we'd be glad to, if not, the offer is there. Should you find yourself in a bind, or a tight spot-- well!"
There is, after a moment, a slow curl of matching amusement in Mystique's voice. "I don't intend to find myself in one, no. But I will keep the offer in mind, should I need it. Feel free to go back to bed, Mr. al Razi."
"I'm awake, now!" Adel answers brightly. "I'm going to go be productive, after I finish my coffee. Might've picked a different time, but all said, this isn't so bad for a wake-up call. Have a good day."
"If it were feasible, I certainly would have. Good day." So saying, the phone disconnects from Mystique's end. She spends a long time standing perfectly still in the lamplight, head bent in thought, before she steps swiftly forward to her destination. The blueprints arrive, as promised and heavily encrypted, within the hour.
A request.
04 / 28 / 08 - Adel, Mystique
It's not 4 am when the phone rings this time. It is late rather than early, by most people's standards, just barely into the morning hours of Tuesday, not quite 48 hours from one call to the next. Mystique sits in the dark again, although this time she's perched on a large rock near the rush of a river that's quite audible through the phone lines.
This is becoming a trend. Once again, Adel is pulled from sleep by the chime of his phone. You see, he is not /nocturnal/, like some are. Not so foggy this time, he answers with a simple, "Yes?" as he rolls over on to his side.
"Sleeping again?" Mystique wonders by way of greeting. "I hate to ask coffee of you, but I'm afraid I may need you clever, tonight."
"I /like/ sleep," Adel says with a faint laugh. "I bought instant." Once again, he pries himself out of bed, snatching up loose pants in passing on his way to the kitchen. "So."
"So do I," Mystique admits with a wry smile that carries into her voice. "But I like the ability to be relatively certain no one is listening even more." A pause, and she extends a foot to dip a toe catiously into the running water below. "You've seen the blueprints?"
"Yes. I ruined a few mornings, passing on the favor. We're looking into them." Lazy humor warming his voice, Adel rattles through cabinets in search of still-sealed instant coffee and works on opening it. "I suppose I don't need to point out that an actual prototype would be even more useful."
"Yes, well." Mystique's tone is mildly exasperated, and she breaks off into a moment's silence before she pulls in a breath. "That, I think, is going to require some clever. There have been some complications."
"Still making the coffee." Adel fills a mug with water and sticks it in the microwave. "What sort of complications?"
"Increased security. And of a serious fashion." There's a bite to Mystique's tone that's not directed at Adel, and her gaze lifts to skim over the water's surface. "They brought them in yesterday. I could get the device, but they would know I'd been there." She pauses for a moment, heavily.
"Hmm." Adel frowns thoughtfully, leaning over to squint through the microwave's door as if it will make the water boil faster. "Not worth sacrificing your cover. I suppose that goes without saying." Turning away to find a spoon, he thwacks it idly on the lid of his instant coffee. The microwave dings, he pulls out the mug, and he scoops in coffee. With the aroma comes inspiration: "What if there was something else to occupy their attention?"
"It's not the cover I'm concerned about," Mystique answers, her voice dropped low as she studies a light across the river, steady in its glow. "I'm nearly done with it, as it is. But it does not quite seem worth /advertising/ that I have been here, and fiddling, when I want to be able to return at some point."
"No, it doesn't. Are they keeping a tally? The inventory, is it fairly accurate?" Stirring his spoon through his fresh-ish coffee, Adel frowns thoughtfully at the air over the microwave. "If we were able to get a mock-up device to you, and provided distraction -- do you think you could swap?"
"That is one of the questions I had hoped to ask you," Mystique answers, her brows floating upward briefly. "Yes, the inventory is incrediably strict - and I want to get you a device that is actually functioning and full, not one of the bits and pieces they have lying around. Full-scale production hasn't started yet." There's a hint of smug in her voice at that. "Can you manufacture one? And soon?"
"It will take us a few days. We're not God, but we're close!" Adel is smug, too, but his is a playful, lightly self-mocking smugness. "I can send word when we have one and we can set up times. Does that work for you?"
"Yes, although that is only part of the issue. I have photographs - I'll forward them to you. The effectiveness of it is not terribly important, but the look of it is." Mystique draws into a moment's silence, quickly running scenerios and possibilities through her head.
Tone deadpan, Adel assures, "We're very good with looks."
Silence draws out, and on the other end a blinking Mystique is startled by the possibility of a genuine joke. It takes her a moment to reply in kind, "It's one of my strengths as well."
Adel's laughter is a little more like a snort than a chuckle, no matter which description he'd rather it fall under. "Yes," he agrees. "I suppose that it is. Send the phototgraphs and I'll hassle people into throwing together a dummy device."
"Excellent. That's step one. The second step--" Mystique pauses and bends her head down to observe a bare toe against the slant of rock. "I think a distraction, as you mentioned, will be required. As loathe as I am to suggest one. Their security is not insurmountable, but I would far rather distract than mount an all-out raid. Discretion."
Here, Adel pauses to insert a question of his own: "--where, by the way? And of course. I'll pass along your preferences. As it happens, we a card up our sleeve that might be fairly eager to hit the game board. I think I'm mixing my metaphors."
"Drink more coffee," Mystique suggests. A pause, and then she asks, "What sort of card?"
Adel drinks more coffee. He punctuates his sips with descriptions of the card in question: "Speedster. Flies. Young. Stupid."
"I see." Another brief pause, this one thoughtful, and then Mystique answers, "Well. Useful, perhaps. I assume 'reckless' and 'anxious' might be added to that list?"
"Young," Adel repeats, laughing. "Yes, both of those. Also, philosophical. He was going to firebomb the corporate offices in the city, but we were afraid that if he did so -- well, actually we were afraid of just the sort of problem you are facing. Increased security."
There is a long stretch of silence from Mystique's end before the tired exhale of her breath is audible across the line. "Yes. I see. If you want to use him, then, tell him only what he needs to know - the details of the distraction, but not that it is one. Not its purpose, nor my task. And you will need someone more trustworthy there as well." A pause, and then she adds, "I intend to use it as a neat excuse for my extraction."
"Yes." More solemn, Adel turns to go lean on a different counter as he sips his coffee. "He has a tendency toward talking too much, so we're being careful with him. We'll see to the distraction, and if it provides you with further excuses -- well. Convenient!"
"Getting out without them knowing you've been is always tricky, in a long term operation," Mystique answers, her voice a low murmur nearly overcome by the rush of the river in the background. "With the photos, I will send you information on a man. David Whitis. It will be quite imperitive that he is taken with your rash young thing when he leaves. I'll arrange for his body to be found later."
With a hummed, thoughtful noise, Adel turns over the idea and nods. "All right, we'll see about that. Will you need anything else?"
"I certainly hope not," Mystique answers, her voice a touch resigned. "Distraction, well-timed. Extraction. These are things you can manage?"
"Of course." Adel grins at the far wall. "We're the Inner Circle." Another sip of coffee, and he adds, "I'll let you know when we've got the fake device, or else contact you sooner if we have trouble manufacturing it."
There is, on the other end of the line, a very faint snort. After a moment Mystique asks simply, "How long?"
"A few days. I'm not sure." Adel shrugs, something of the gesture in his tone. "I'll email when I've got a timeframe."
"Yes. Okay. When you are certain, contact me again. I will need to speak with whoever you place in charge of creating a distraction. There are layout possibilities, and some concerns. Am I to assume that your reckless, stupid young thing will be given a chance to firebomb? Or are there other possibilities?"
"Depends on who we send with him for oversight." Blocking a yawn with the side of his fist, Adel squints down at his coffee. "I can't decide if instant coffee is vile or a life saver."
"Both," Mystique allows. Her tips her head back, gaze focusing dimly on the light of stars overhead. "Alright. There is likely some flexibility there. So long as it loosens security and occurs at enough of a distance that infiltration is not suspected. And so long as it provides an excuse for kidnapping."
"He's pretty damn gay," Adel says helpfully. "Is Mr. -- What was it, Whit? Is he an /attractive/ man?" One presumes he isn't being serious. One /hopes/.
"Late night phone calls clearly improve your wit," Mystique replies dryly.
"Mm, I think it's the coffee." Adel goes to pour the last half out into the sink.
"Almost certainly," Mystique agrees.
"Can I go back to bed?"
"Yes."
"Thank you! I'll email you with an update when I have a timeframe, and more information about the distraction," Adel says, leaving his mug in the sink. "Good night!"
"Of course. If you need to speak to me -- well. I'm afraid the hour will be late again. I'll pass along the photographs soon." Mystique pushes upward, planting one hand on the smooth, chill surface of the rock, and straightens. "Good night, Mr. al Razi."
A complication.
The span of Elizabeth Kane's high-priced apartment feels even emptier than usual. There is no sign of clutter, no dishes left in the sink or trash in the cans. A thin layer of dust covers most of the furniture, and a large black bag sits against the wall next to the door. A woman sits in an armchair, angled away from the television and toward the tall expanse of one of her windows. With clouds dimming the sun outside, the apartment is cast in grey shadows, and she's nearly lost among them, a simple dark silhoette - Mystique - among many others. She waits in silence for her company.
Her company arrives with a brisk knock, all business-like and efficient in the rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat on the door. Then, silence. Adel stands outside with hands in his pockets and a nonchalant attitude. He looks down the length of the hall, idly considering it, rather than stare at the door. He is dressed casually (for him), in jeans and a dress shirt of simple black. His jacket is folded over his arm, spring-weight gray wool.
"Come in," Mystique offers without stirring from her seat, her voice raised just to audible levels. "It is quite open."
Trying the handle, Adel pushes inward. He glances around the apartment, taking in the air of disuse, and then crosses toward Mystique as he taps the door closed behind him. "Good afternoon." His greeting is simple, and he glances over at her in the aftermath of yesterday's activities. He is less polite than Bahir. His shields are down, and he listens to whatever thoughts leak as well as taking the opportunity to test her mood.
Mystique's mood is dim and quiet, her thoughts a slow bubble that mull with worry over what she is about to give him, and what doing so means. What it would mean not to. Anything further lurks deeper below the generally still surface of her mind as the blue-scaled mutant lifts and turns her head from her seat to consider the arrival of Adel al Razi. "And to you," she greets evenly. "I trust everyone is quite all right?"
Previous discomfort in the face of such blatant mutation has long since faded; Adel regards Mystique in her natural form with easy equanimity. "Dr. Lensherr is resting. He overexerted himself, but Ms. Dramstadt was there to make certain that he didn't seize. Beaubier, the speedster, seems to have suffered no ill-effects." He smiles faintly. "In short, then, yes. Everyone is fine. They will be some time putting things back together."
Mystique's lips twist, and there is a brief and brilliant explosion of unpleasant anger and jealousy in the front of Mystique's mind that does not show in her expression. That remains fairly level. After a moment, her lips even curve into a small smile. "Good. Excellent. It made for a good show, at any rate." She stirs slightly, finally rising from her chair with a fluid grace that she does not typically allow herself when wearing a human face. "They should be discovering David Whitis' body rather soon, I expect. Really, a nearly flawless operation."
"If it /were/ flawless," Adel says, a hint of laughter in his voice, "then I would worry that something had gone terribly wrong, but we just didn't know what it was. I'll take nearly flawless, and quite happily." He turns to follow her movement, but remains where he stands. His faint good cheer does not waver. "My brother was going over the blueprints with Dr. Grey earlier. They have yet to figure out how to thwart it, or how it really works. Having an actual unit to study should help."
"Perhaps. I wouldn't be over-excited, though," Mystique replies, the hollow tones of her voice kept low as she moves to retrieve a small black box from where it sits on the kitchen table. She holds it delicately, one hand resting beneath and one atop. "They had it for nearly a year before they learned how to manufacture another. And the brainpower in their employ is considerable." Several smooth steps carry her back to Adel, and hesitation echoes only in her mind as she extends the box across to him and says simply, "It does work. Quite remarkable, really."
An expression of distaste crosses Adel's features as he takes the box, as though he were picking up some sort of horrid snake, or a bug instead. His lips twitch slightly toward a grimace. "Remarkable. Yes, that's /a/ word." He turns it over, but chooses to simply tuck it under his arm rather than fiddle with it. "Do you think, then, that we have that science experiment gone wrong to thank for this? Did you find out anything else on that count, whether this is what they'd brought back, or if they'd had anything else?"
"This is at least a part of what they brought back," Mystique answers quietly. "Whether there is more-- I do not know."
Adel swears quietly in his native tongue, cheer fading under fatigue. "Sometimes, I feel like Sisyphus," he says, tone rueful.
That earns a small upward curve of her lips, and genuine amusement crosses the front of Mystique's mind. "I know the feeling," she responds mildly.
"You've been pushing that damn rock longer than I have!" False brightness in the lilt of his words, Adel shakes his head and smiles slightly. "I suppose I shouldn't complain to you, all things considered. We'll just have to push a little more."
"I have been pushing the rock for a very long time," Mystique acknowledges, and although slow ripples of memory brush past the surface of her mind, she does not elaborate further. "It warrants the occasional complaint." A pause and then she inclines her head slightly. "I am hardly ready to give up the push just yet."
"No. Besides--." Adel lifts the box and waggles it slightly. "If we stop, it rolls right back down, flattening us on the way. So, no stopping. But occasional complaints." He folds his hands around the box, settling on his heels. He is silent a moment, and then asks, "Do you require anything?"
Mystique lifts her brows slightly, and for a long moment she simply considers him as she attempts to track possible motives, potential complications. In the end, her reply is simple: "I do not."
Inclining his chin, Adel holds her gaze steadily (trustworthy-ily!) as she considers him. To her answer, he gives a nod. "Well, you have my number if you change your mind. Do you know what you will be doing next, or shouldn't I ask, the better to not be able to tell under torture?" He is teasing. Mostly.
Mystique has known far too many men with such a gaze to trust it in the least. Her consideration looks at other things. She does not hesitate before answering, "I will continue to work. I have some notion of where I may be useful, but a great many things depend upon circumstances, and individuals."
"Don't they always," Adel says with the crook of a lazy smile. "I shall not take up anything more of your time, then. As always, it has been a pleasure to work with you, Mystique. Good luck."
Mystique smiles in return, although hers is drier and accompanied by a flicker of snide thoughts regarding the honesty behind his last statement. She dips her head. "And to you. Be careful with what I've given you."
"I won't drop it!" Adel promises over his shoulder as he turns to head toward the door. In his reach for the handle, he /does/ fumble it, but he catches it before it can fall far with a muttered, "Oops." He flashes a (not-so)-reassuring grin back in Mystique's direction, and then lets himself out.
"Not what I meant," Mystique murmurs in reply, but only once the door as closed behind him. She remains where she is for several minutes, long enough for Adel to leave the building entirely, before she heads for the door herself. A shift, a bend, and the black bag is settled on a jacketed shoulder. The woman who leaves the door is neither Elizabeth Kane nor Mystique. The door locks behind her, and she does not turn to look back.
A gift.