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]

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?"

[sable_cloak]

The Shadow pulls out his PINpoint, checking the time on it, and then pockets it again and hands his mug to the Old Tiger. He's learned that time does not pass evenly between worlds, and has made certain his PINpoint keeps up with his own.

"There's time. I'll have another cup." The thought of this world being without The Shadow is a concerning one, especially with recent news. He looks back at the TV, watching a reporter as his mind turns to other things, including the question of whether he'd be able to leave this world alone, or if he could take up the mantle here as well. Myra has a head start here, her knowledge would be invaluable, and provide the opportunity for the mission to continue uninterrupted. His counterpart however, may or may not appreciate the idea. The greatest problem in that concept being that he lacks the evolved techniques and experience to deal with the new world.

His next concern is for his agents, but even in his time, he's made provisions for them, should something happen.

The kick start of thoughts has brought his mind back into full function again, and it's filled with concerns about his own world, the Old Tiger, and Myra. He stands, abandoning his cloak and hat, and following the Old Tiger into the kitchen. Force of habit causes him to lean against the doorway in a lazy manner, typical of Cranston.

"Vincent and Burbank would keep the news quiet, but what about the newer agents?" Whether or not The Shadow still holds any fear over the underworld, the news of his passing could still have a negative impact in the fight against crime.

[evillurks]

The possibility of a sudden death is one he has long been prepared for, but the older The Shadow gets, the more the eventuality of it weighs on him. He is not sure, himself, if he'd want his younger alternate to try to take up work in his own world. He would never ask. Preventing world war in one's own world is an onerous enough task by itself.

The kitchen gleams quietly in chrome and black lacquer, echoing the sleek lines of the living room. He pours for them both, peripherally aware of the casual pose in the doorway behind him. "I knew it was a delicate situation even before I lost one of them to it. Only older agents were involved in the investigation." He frowns as his thinking covers the gap of fifty years. As he offers a fresh mug of coffee he adds, "Older by my standards. You still wouldn't know any of them."

[sable_cloak]

"I figured." He accepts the mug and steps out of the doorway, returning to his seat. "Some of them probably haven't been born yet." For a moment, he looks rueful for dating the Old Tiger, and himself in a single phrase, but the moment passes. He sips thoughtfully at the warm coffee, glad for the heat, as he acknowledges that the next few hours after he leaves will be cold ones.

[evillurks]

The Old Tiger follows him with a grimace, but it's a very deliberate expression rather than a genuine emotional response. "You're going to be sorry for saying that, someday." In that dry comment at least, there is a flicker of amusement. Calling him old, and variations on that, lost most of their effect some time back.

"What else do you want to know?" He moves past the grouping of furniture to click off the television, seeing the news program drawing to a close. Nothing else on the airwaves interests him.

[sable_cloak]

It hasn't passed the younger man's notice that he was already serving in the military when Myra was only a child. The insult hadn't been intentional on his part.

There are a number of questions he has, but many can be easily answered by Myra talking to Harry, and he will save them for just such an opportunity.

"I'll have to go through the file before I have any more questions concerning that issue. Anything else I have to discuss is unrelated, and not urgent."

[evillurks]

That's another thought he hardly likes to linger on. That their age difference is even greater now that he's working with an alternate Myra was tricky to adjust to.

"...How unrelated?" He returns to the sofa and sinks down, eyeing the paperwork spread out before him. What he has to do needs doing, but anything time-sensitive he got out of the way before summoning the other Shadow. He is prepared for this meeting to take however long the younger man requires.

[sable_cloak]

The Shadow takes a sip of his coffee and looks the Old Tiger squarely in the eye as he mentions a single name that explains itself.

"Mocquino." The eyes harden, it's an enemy he's faced before, and one that is nearly as persistent as Shiwan Khan. The Doctor is clever, and the fight against him is often difficult and tedious.

[evillurks]

"...Ah." He nods calmly, and settles back on the couch. Reminiscing about old cases and an old enemy is a joy in comparison to the worries of the present day. He won, in the end, after all. "You'll have to remind me which fight with him this is..."