(Untitled)

[jla_extras]

In a leased floor of a commercial high-rise in San Francisco, Yuri Ivanovich Mediev conducts his business. A small staff of secretaries answer phones, make appointments, and coordinates talent with clients. Business seems to be booming

Comments

[damage_granted]

Leaning back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap, Rory chuckles at Yuri's comment, grinning at the Russian. "I see that you're already somewhat familiar with my firm's business model," the Irishman replies, reaching forward for his coffee once more, taking a sip from the cup, then leaning back again. "Although a drug combination resulting in more permanent effects would fetch a far higher price, there is no incentive for the customer to maintain their relationship with the seller."

"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Mediev, there are a number of sellers in the market with...inferior products that have displayed some rather serious side-effects," Rory continues, sipping again from his coffee cup. "In addition to these products, the people I represent are also developing a line of products that can counter some of the more unfortunate aftereffects of these substandard products."

[jla_extras]

"Your point is well-made, Mr. O'Halloran. I have only two questions. Can I have some samples to test, and what are your pricing terms?"

[damage_granted]

Here we go..."Rory" thinks, leaning forward, resting his arms on the rests of the chair, sitting up a little straighter. "Normally, my employers charge a consultation fee for this sort of information," O'Halloran says, lifting a hand, gesturing at the case on the desk and the catalog. "You can imagine the development and production costs of such highly specialized pharmaceuticals."

"This, however, is a special case," he continues. "A certain man has come under the attention of my employers, a man only known to them as 'Boris.' I cannot go into specifics, but the attention that he has drawn is of a...how shall I say this...a rather negative nature. We understand that this man was last seen in the San Francisco area. Therefore...in exchange for these samples, and as a show of good faith, we would appreciate any information you have on this 'Boris' person."

[jla_extras]

Yuri reacts.. interestingly. At first, there's a measure of astonishment, but the expression gives way to one of smug superiority. "Boris suggested I would be very grateful that he kept his identity from me. To a degree, that was confirmed by the reports I have received regarding Mikhail's hospitalization, but he said that I might expect visitors."

[damage_granted]

The Irishman tilts his head to the side, resting his head against his hand, leaning on his elbow as the Russian speaks. "That's unfortunate," Rory replies, the smile fading a little, his expression becoming a bit more serious. The mention of Mikhail - the crazed Spetznaz agent subdued by Speedy and Obsidian - appears to surprise O'Halloran. "Mikhail? This is an associate of yours, I presume?" he asks, lifting an eyebrow, the hand dropping away from the side of his face.

[jla_extras]

"He was talent. And premium talent at that. His fate is unfortunate, but the business has it risks, yes?" The Russian accent has been drastically muted as his jovial persona slips away to reveal the hardened ex-mobster beneath.

"Mr. O'Halloran, I am not in the custom of giving out information on my clients - I imagine that if you are who you claim to be, you understand that very well. However - " He slides open a drawer of his desk, removing a small notepad. " - I was asked to deliver this message to any who might inquire after Boris."

He slides the notepad over to Grant. There's a handwritten message there:

Mankind will soon assume its proper place. I should think that you would assist me in this endeavor, but you are as shortsighted as ever, no doubt. I congratulate you on tracing me as far as Yuri, but it will avail you nothing. When you find me, my goal will have been achieved.

"It is somewhat overwrought prose, but.. I wrote it down precisely as he dictated."

[mari_grayson]

Ciara Kelly does not seem to be reading the note. But Nightstar's mind is racing.

[damage_granted]

The serious look remains on the red-haeded man's face as the Russian reads the note and Rory sits forward in his chair. What does this mean...? Reaching for the pad, O'Halloran examines the handwriting briefly, his hazel eyes shifting to Yuri. "My employers will be most interested to see this. May I take this note with me, Mr. Mediev?" he asks, resting his fingers on the notepad, his eyes remaining on the Russian.

[jla_extras]

"I have no objections, Mr. O'Halloran, but you will find the handwriting to be my own, and the paper unremarkable. On a personal note, should Boris contact me again to hire more talent, I will be happy to inform him that you wish to speak with him - though I pray that he does not. His voice unsettles me."

He seems to have no shame admitting that.

[damage_granted]

The top page of the pad is torn off as Yuri speaks and O'Halloran folds the note in half, tucking it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Your help is greatly appreciated, Mr. Mediev," Rory replies, smiling at the other man again. "Your discretion is appreciated, as well. I do hope that this will be the beginning of a partnership between yourself and my employers. Ms. Kelly?"

Rory gestures to Ciara, pointing to the case still sitting on Yuri's desk. "Unpack a few samples for Mr. Mediev," he says, smiling easily. "You have my word, Mr. Mediev - you will not be disappointed with our stock."

[jla_extras]

"I certainly hope not, Mr. O'Halloran. Good luck locating Boris."

[mari_grayson]

Ciara unpacks the samples for the Russian, then closes up the sample case and resumes her position near her employer.

[jla_extras]

"Good day to you both. I look forward to more business with you."