Shadow-filled apartment

[evillurks]

When last the two Shadows met, it was an uncertain, wary encounter in the younger world. The apartment carefully shrouded in black was as much a sign of distrust as any body language, although in a first meeting nothing less than caution was expected

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[sable_cloak]

The Shadow actually takes a moment to decide how he will appear in the world of the Old Tiger. He knows from his brief discussions with Reldon, that whatever he wears will be out of date, save the cloak and hat. He takes one last glance in the small mirror that sits on a nearby desk before standing from his seat in the small room, donning the usual black garments over the visage of Lamont Cranston and PINpointing to the coordinates that have been provided.

Appearing, he stands in the room, ready and alert as he studies his surroundings, an almost duplicate reaction of the Old Tiger's arrival in his world. Sometimes their habits are almost eerily similar. He notes the sparse decor, his eyes resting on the caligraphy for a moment before resuming their study, and noting the tired nature of the Older Shadow. The welcome smell of coffee reaches him and while he is not nearly as strained as the Old Tiger, he will not turn it down.

Deliberately, he reaches up from beneath the cloak and loosens the scarf as he looks down at the casually dressed man, glasses perched on his nose. There is no judgement in his eyes, just the acceptance of an observed fact.

There's a brusk nod as he steps towards the Old Tiger, 'hello' still feels far too awkward for a meeting like this. He's willing to stand until his arrival is at least acknowledged instead of rudely making himself 'at home'.

[evillurks]

He is given a brief moment to settle himself, mentally, in the room, as the older Shadow is content to let him wait while he finishes making a note or two. The reading glasses are lightly cast aside as he stands, giving his alternate a nod. Apart from a little trouble reading, his vision is still quite sharp, and he rakes an untempered gaze over the younger man. "Have a seat, I'll get the coffee." He knows how he takes it, after all.

There is the long black couch, but it seems to be his preferred seat since its parallel to the table and faces the television. That leaves a few leather armchairs to choose from. Without further preamble he is off to the kitchen. On the television, there are images of politicians looking harangued as they wave off reporters.

[sable_cloak]

The brim of the hat dips in a small nod and he watches him leave. His eyes note the TV as he sits, it's a curiosity for only a moment before he is settling into the chair as much as he'll allow himself, parting the thicker cloak and hanging his hat on the arm of the chair. As he waits for the return of the older Shadow, he gives a glance over the paperwork on the table, and then returns his eyes to the TV, and taking note of names and faces simply out of habit, knowing that with all the changes that have been made in his own world, there's the chance that such events may never come to pass.

In the seat now sits what would best be described as an uncharacteristically alert Cranston, with cloak draped over his shoulders, and parted to reveal one of the many fine, black suits more characteristic of the actual Cranston, and the double brace of automatics. He's either been out, or may be going out immediately after this meeting, the latter being most likely since he doesn't carry the smell or appearance of conflict on him.

[evillurks]

It is only a moment before he returns with two mugs of black coffee, offering one to his alternate. This grants him a chance to take in such details, and draw his own conclusions from them. He still keeps a few expensive suits around, but his clothing demands tend to be less formal these days.

There is that faint, nagging wheeze when he resumes his own seat, a sound he's learned to ignore himself. He hasn't been on the streets much in the past week, but he has been very busy all the same. "The details are still coming out, and even I don't know everyone involved, but I'm not willing to risk anymore agents in the investigation." That does not mean he's stopped poking into the matter altogether, but it does mean he must continue with excessive caution. "Things have been uneasy in the Middle East for..." He waves a hand briefly, fingers on either side catching the ring as it spins loosely. "Centuries, of course, but nobody else started paying attention until the automobile industry turned oil into a valuable commodity. Now everyone's got a vested interest in their warfare if they want their hands in the oil business, and that's drawn their private troubles out into the grand stage of the rest of the world." He has little idea that he's outlining a situation that will be lasting for decades to come.

[sable_cloak]

He accepts, holding it before him as he watches the TV for a moment longer, and then sips, turning his attention back to the older man and watches him with studious eyes as he notes the sound that lingers. His attention is on the Old Tiger as he listens to him. The loose ring prompts an unintentional check of his own as his thumb touches the underside, noting the close fit as the hand rests against his coffee cup.

He gives an acknowledging sound as he sips at the coffee, giving a glance back at the TV and noting the change to a commercial he lets his eyes focus on the table.

"And they're willing to go to extremes to cover up their actions." There's a disturbed expression that struggles to make itself seen, but he keeps it to a simple, slight narrowing of his eyes. "What exactly was going on?" The Old Tiger has been careful not to mention details and The Shadow wants to know what had force him to stay his hand, especially after losing an agent.

[evillurks]

His alternate's expression and gesture are noted, but the former is hardly a surprise. The recent developments are every bit as disturbing and more for him, but he can well imagine the shock of it without being witness to the gradual shifts of culture. Of the latter gesture he thinks little, and sees it simply as a vague mirror of his own absent fiddling.

It's difficult to keep his own expression from showing how deeply all this has struck, and his body language betrays what his face does not. There is a slump to the shoulders and a weariness in his movements that speaks of struggling with despair. The old man hunches over his coffee, elbows on his knees, and gazes distantly through the steam. "It looks like the government traded arms for hostages, possibly more than once. This was approved by upper levels... it looks unlikely that the President was unaware of it, although he wouldn't have handled the details... His knowledge would be hard to prove, though, and I..." He hesitates, just for a moment, but that hitch in speech is a deeply uncharacteristic one. "...don't like to think what it could do to this country, for its citizens to see their leader may have betrayed them on a very fundamental level."

What he is implying is that he's willing to let that part at least remain covered up, to protect the public faith. That he would be willing accomplice to such a thing was not a decision he came to easily, and every line of his body shows how deeply having to make the choice grieves him. Justice, it seems, is not worth throwing an entire country into chaos and a permanent crisis of faith, which is precisely what he expects would be the outcome of such a revelation.

[sable_cloak]

It's painfully difficult for younger man to see such obvious signs of defeat in someone that is as close to being him, as he has ever met. For all the difficulties he experiences in attempting to be empathetic with others, he finds himself struck by the concept of being in the situation, and the thoughts of what he would be experiencing in the Old Tiger's position.

Even at this moment the younger Shadow is striking at the leaders of various countries, but to take action against his own country, against a position that he once served so loyally, it forces his mind to take a rare, and startling pause.

"How much has been made public?" His voice, is almost quiet as he keeps his gaze on the Old Tiger. His usually sharp gaze has softened, the focus that usually gives them their strong edge has been significantly disturbed.

[evillurks]

It is just those similarities that allow him to voice more of his feelings on the matter than he would to anyone else. It may be unfair to his younger alternate, but at the moment he is acting as something of an opportunity for the Old Tiger to talk to the mirror, as it were. If ever there was a moment he was in need of an empathetic ear, it is now.

Despite the obvious emotional burden, his voice is calm and as impassive as his face. "Very little, they're still at the stage of hints and allegations, but I don't think they'll be able to cover the other end of the paper trail. It was a foreign paper that first released the news. A contact rushed me a copy before the A.P. picked it up, but only just. I've had agents investigating over here, but..." He shakes his head, hesitant to complete that thought aloud. It was doing just that work that got one of them killed.

"Now that the press is on to it, it's more or less out of my hands."

[sable_cloak]

For once, this is a moment that The Shadow recognizes the need, and is willing to provide the audience, he remains watching the Old Tiger. It's a foreign sensation, to feel connected, so even through the calm delivery, he knows only too well the kind of turmoil that can take place behind the impassive facade.

The finish to the incomplete sentence is provided using the details the younger man already has, and the frown that traces his features is faint and fleeting, but clear as day to the one man perfectly familiar with his expressions.

"What are the chances that the full truth will be uncovered?" Being unable to have a hand in the situation means that the information, if ever completely uncovered, could be used as blackmail to influence or control the involved parties. From every angle it's a bad situation, there appears no solution that wouldn't severely impact The Shadow's operation in anything but a negative manner.

The fact that he has no say or influence here is slowly starting to gnaw at him, even though his hands would be tied just as tightly as the Old Tiger's. He looks down into his coffee, seeing the face of Cranston reflected in its black depths, before taking a gulp. It's becoming clearer to him why the Old Tiger snatched up Myra's offer to meddle in their affairs so quickly.

[evillurks]

Later, perhaps, he will feel grateful for this moment of connection. At the present he is too sunk in private despair to acknowledge it, although he is outwardly in calm control.

"I'm not sure how to answer that. I'm not sure I even know what the full truth is. It looked like it started out with good intentions, but it's so easy for negotiations to go sour..." Which would be why he's never been in the habit of negotiating, with anyone. "I do know they're scrambling, now. I saw that much before I pulled the agents out. I doubt the press will be able to dig up the whole paper trail now."

Too much of the time, the Old Tiger feels his hands are tied, and it's been wearing at him for years. The face he sees in his own coffee is a fictional invention, not Cranston, not quite Kent Allard, lined and gaunt and tired. He scowls faintly at it, and takes a swallow of coffee, unintentionally mirroring the younger man.

[sable_cloak]

The younger man is left without reply, words of support or empathy are not him, and would ring with the hollowness of Cranston's borrowed personality anyways. His unusually quiet mind is almost maddening, so he lets his eyes glance about the room, settling on the calligraphy again. Myra has sent him enough messages that he is able to recognize her writing.

"How much of this will you be telling Myra?" She's already had her faith in the Bureau shaken, he can only wonder what kind of impact the news would have on her.

[evillurks]

Such false sympathetic words would not be appreciated, but in that quiet the Old Tiger senses a certain understanding of perspective, and that is enough.

"No more than what she'd see in the news anyway, if I can get away with it. She'll have to know that much, or else she'd risk looking ignorant talking with other people in this world." He sighs, gives a few coughs that rattle deep in his chest, and deliberately sits upright. Belatedly he seems to have realized how communicative his posture is of his sense of defeat. "There are times it's best to let agents remain uninformed, and I think this is one of them. It's delicate pulling some of them out of the investigation, but I'm trying to keep everyone distracted with other work. Myself included." Myra is an exception in many ways, but in this case he'd prefer to insulate her as much as possible.

[sable_cloak]

The younger man is reminded of the rare times he's had to order his network into hiding, without any indication as to why while he leaves himself to deal with the threat. This, however, is a withdrawal.

He gives a very slight nod as he finishes his coffee and sets the empty cup on a knee, steadying it with one hand. He watches the Old Tiger sit up, keeping a steady gaze on him that lacks the usual prying of intense study. He has no reply, and the silence is an open invitation for The Shadow to continue, or guide the conversation elsewhere should he desire. The amount of distress in his body language is unsettling, and the younger Shadow shifts in his seat.

[evillurks]

There is a moment of relative silence in the room, broken only by a commercial for toothpaste, while the older man finishes his coffee as well. Then he shifts and leans forward again, this time to retrieve a thick folder from the table and offer it over. Newspaper clippings and photocopies of government documents stick out slightly around the edges. "It's not everything I've got, you understand, but it should be enough for you." Setting the cup aside, he runs a hand over his eyes and through his hair, pulling his thoughts together with some effort. "Your world is changing every day, diverting further from the course of history I know. Hopefully this will never come to pass for you, but if things move in that direction..." Again he frowns, bothered by the idea of such a history repeating itself, "I want to leave you all the information I can, so you'll be better prepared."

[sable_cloak]

He accepts the folder, running a thumb along the edge to note its thickness, but he does not open it. It is not dire information, but when he returns to the privacy of the Sanctum, he will be committing the information to memory, and then storing it in a location where it has the least chance of being discovered by anyone clever enough to breach the Sanctum's walls.

"Thank you." Having seen the frayed nerves of the Old Tiger, the younger Shadow's words ring with sincerity. Privately, he hopes that what they are doing saves him from experiencing such a defeat. It's one of those many private Hells he does not want to visit, if he has anything to say about it.

[evillurks]

As generous as The Old Tiger is being with this information, he has been careful to clip out or copy the newspaper articles he feels are applicable, including the original from the Lebanese paper, which his alternate may or may not yet know the language well enough to translate. If he doesn't know it yet, he'll certainly learn. There is nothing extraneous, however; no advertisements or backs of other articles that might prove distracting. There are things in the paper every day that could prove distressing to The Shadow's sense of the future.

It is by far his worst nightmare to be crippled, either physically or in the more abstract sense applied to his work. As the older man has in recent times experienced both, he is forced to face his private hells and find a way to struggle through them. It's little wonder he looks so tired.

Standing stiffly, he picks up his own mug, and offers to take his alternate's. "I'll make arrangements to leave everything to you, I suppose, since I assume you'd make sure the agents here are allowed to keep what they need if they continue to carry on my work." His tone, in addressing this morbid eventuality, is casual with the underlying sense that he's already thought it over. "Do you want a refill, or is there important business waiting?"