Today, I made an appearance downtown. I'm an expert witness, because I say I am.
On Monday morning, a limo pulls up in front of the Conrad and Adam Monroe, plus a few ranking Organization personnel and all their individual security details, arrive at the Conrad Hotel for a meeting. They head straight to the meeting room without lingering too long outside or in the lobby, and while Adam is choking down a deep-rooted urge to kill
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"As I said, you picked a complicated time to arrive. I do apologize for the wait," he says, resisting the urge to add a snipe about why the hell anyone would choose Christmas as a good time for diplomatic negotiations.
He waves off the offer. "Nothing for me, thank you. Leona?" He turns to the woman at his side, gritting his teeth in what looks like a charming smile, but his eyes say differently. If this goes sour, you have my permission to kill every last one of them.
Death happens in Chicago. He doesn't particularly want to go to war with the Trust, but he doesn't want them here either. In the end, someone always does have to make that hard choice for the greater good.
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She accompanies this with perhaps a bit too sweet and dazzling a smile, quietly challenging their new guest to play the teamaid. She pulls out her own chair, though, sinking gracefully into it. She has absolutely no problem with that little directive Adam just gave her.
Granted, a meeting room in the Conrad Hotel is not the best place for a demoness to kill a bunch of people, but they're the Organization. They can afford to clean that up, if it becomes absolutely necessary.
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He takes a seat. "Since you've already been waiting for so long, I'm sure you won't mind if we skip the pleasant chitchat and skip right to the point."
There's nothing unpleasant about his tone. It's perfectly polite. In a way that suggests that he wants these people out of his city as quickly as possible.
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He sinks gracefully into his own seat and steeples his fingers, pointedly oblivious to Leona's request. Adam did request they get to business, after all.
"You're aware of the Trust's mandate, of course. Protecting the sovereignty of Earth against any and all outside threats. Threats like, oh, Time Lords. I'm sure you've heard of them - they're a bit thick on the ground here, wouldn't you say?" His expression is all innocent inquiry: the slightest lift of an eyebrow, his lips settling into a little moue.
"And, of course, the Wanderer situation..." He shrugs. "The current state of Chicago is, I'm afraid, quite relevant to our interests. And, given that the current treaty appears to interfere with our fulfilling that mandate..."
He smiles. It's a perfectly polite smile. One might even call it apologetic, and honestly so -- he would be sorry to have to kill them all without the chance to have some fun with them first. Especially when they're almost interesting.
"...well, that does leave us in a predicament. Personally, I'm of the opinion that with negotiation and a bit of compromise, this treaty could very well be salvageable. That would be best for all concerned, don't you think?"
Tone and expression are still perfectly reasonable, and he meets Adam and Leona's eyes briefly... Not long enough to give offence, of course -- he's not interested in staring them down. Just enough to give himself a way in.
He's been given full authority to use his abilities as needed, and while he's not actively hypnotising them yet, the tone of his voice, his eyes on theirs, the way his hands have casually fallen to the tabletop to tap out a four-beat rhythm... everything subtly and inevitably leads to priming them to be receptive when he does make the push.
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He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together, the very portrait of wariness mixed with serious consideration, his jaw tight with a tension that he's not sure has as much to do with the circumstance as it does the Master, himself. "I'm sure you have your terms already laid out," he remarks dryly, neither consenting nor challenging.
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"We want a foothold here in Chicago. Of course, we have no intention of interfering with your business; our own interests lie in a somewhat different area, and I'd be happy to formalise the conditions of noninterference. The same goes for right of salvage on the local Rift openings, so long as we don't interfere with your own operations. The ability to recruit from the local populations: human, supernatural, and... other." He raises an eyebrow. He's asking for so little, really.
"We'd also like to bring Torchwood back into the fold, as it were. And seeing as how they're occupying what used to be our building..." He shrugs and raises his eyebrows. "You would relinquish any claims you might have on them, and in return, we'd take full responsibility for any actions they might take against you. Fair enough?"
If it isn't, his tone implies, he'd be quite willing to listen to a counteroffer. Or just declare war, though that would be a waste. It's entirely up to Adam and his people.
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She leans forward, smoothly usurping the conversation from Adam. She has faith that he won't mind.
"Torchwood is a wanderer authority," she points out. "Damn near the only one in these parts. Do you honestly think we or they are going to let you walk in and assume de facto control - figurehead control, at least - of the entire wanderer population?"
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He smiles, still saccharine to the point of obvious insincerity, "I'm sure you won't mind an extra week or so away from New Delhi."
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Well, they asked for it in the first place, didn't they?
He smiles. "We'd be only too happy to accept the invitation to stay in your fair city," he says. "We'll just make ourselves at home, shall we?"
And perhaps take the opportunity to... examine... a few of the particularities of this city's political landscape up close.
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Not that he particularly wants to keep meeting at the Conrad, but he figures the happier he makes the Trust, the more chances he has to make them unhappy later.
He doesn't wait for a response, merely heads for the door. "We'll be in touch," he throws casually over his shoulder before he exits.
As soon as there's a door and a good hundred feet of hallway, Adam remarks to Leona, dropping all hints of casual civility. "I despise that man."
The lobby is crowded, which is surprising, all things considering. It's a miracle the Conrad's been able to maintain business in this city. Still, as much as Adam hates the obnoxious thrum of crowds, they make for excellent cover in this sort of circumstance, just in case the Trust is watching them leave.
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Which is a lie.
It's hard to make evisceration and dismemberment look accidental.
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The Doctor doesn't notice the Organization heads and their security detail, mainly because... well, someone hasn't been paying as much attention to Chicago politics as he probably should have. They, however, might just notice him.
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The Doctor, especially with the Trust's view on Time Lords, might be right near the top.
He holds up a hand to signal the group to stop. "Leona, I'm having a thought," he says, nodding towards the Doctor with a wry smile.
He expects her to know what he means.
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She detaches herself from the group, interposing herself at the front desk with an apologetic smile and a "Terribly sorry, I'll handle this" to the receptionist. She follows that up by appropriating the Doctor's right hand, clasping it in both of hers with a grip which, while not painful or even uncomfortable, is still firm enough to go beyond a usual handshake and cross over into perhaps you should play along territory.
"The Doctor, if I'm not mistaken?" She smiles. "Leona Sandric. You would be here for the Trust conference?"
There's a very calculated not enough time to answer between that question and her next words.
"There have been a few revisions on the terms; we just want to make sure everyone's up to date before they walk in. If you'd just step outside with us..."
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He's less keen on walking away when he knows the Master's somewhere in the building, but when there's a possibility he'll just disappear again... hunting him down may not be the best idea.
The Doctor smiles, inclines his head to one side, and then... tries to extricate his hand. He doesn't need to be dragged. If these people know anything about them, they really should know that he'll happily walk into the lion's den of his own accord.
"Of course. By all means, lead the way."
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She glances back to Adam with a smile, inclining her head toward the door. If he'd like to introduce himself, he can. Otherwise, she's just going to show them all out to the limo.
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