2007-08-02: A Devil's Bargain

Starring:

DFClaudine_icon.gif DFCyprus_icon.gif

Summary: Searching for a known freedom fighter, Cyprus tells Claudine about people dying via insect stings. Horrified at such a thing, she makes a devil's bargain agreeing to help him find out who caused it..or did she?

Dark Future Date: August 2nd, 2009

A Devil's Bargain


An Abandoned Warehouse..

It's really a magnificent piece of graffiti art. There stands the President, unmistakable against the backdrop of Nazi Germany, complete with the swastika on his arm and a little mustache on his lip. Books are being burned in the background. There's even people being loaded into train cars. It's really quite impressive.
And the view pans back to the remnants of a warehouse down in the Meatpacking district, well out of the commonly considered safe zones in New York City. There's a voice over a radio and a click, and the door slides open almost soundlessly. Three men in black tactical gear step in, armed and loaded stride into the warehouse in formation. They pause for a second, and sweep the area, then there is another burst of radio chatter. And in steps Cyprus Donovan. He's not wearing the usual business suit, but has replaced it with one of the black tac ops outfits. Still, he isn't wearing a helmet, and isn't carrying a gun. He glances at the agents, and speaks quietly. "Fan out," he orders. "These are her last known whereabouts, and I want her alive enough to answer questions." And with that, the soldiers begin to move.

Oh yes, this is a place where she often vents out her frustrations at the totalitarian regime that has become the United States of Petrelli. Not too far away, in fact on the other side of the building, the young Filipina is finishing her latest masterpiece.

NATHAN PETRELLI SUCKS BIG FAT ELEPHANT COCK

These words are being clearly written using several cans of spray paint. It seems the young Filipina has been partaking in art of the street kind as there are several cans of spray paint just laying around. The young Filipina giggles at her own work as she's taken up the whole wall it seems. It's a way to vent without really venting.

The mural itself has the words in bold and large letters, taking a patriotic theme with red, white and blue along with the American flag waving proudly. Thinking that Mr. Petrelli was a Republican (as she cant really remember), there's a large gigantic fat elephant that looks more like Newt Gingrich in a way, relaxing back in a chair. And there is a caricreature of the president, on his knees performing fellatio.

As she finishes the last little detail, she blinks blankly and hrmms for a few moments. There's lots of vibrations on the other side. Uh oh. Not good, maybe she might get caught, so for now, she just stays on that side,not wantnig to make a sound as she closes her eyes for a few moments, not wanting to make a sound. Dangit..this is why Orion tells her to not go do stuff like this!

The soldiers begin moving through the warehouse, almost silent in their methodical movements. They keep in a steady pattern, no one getting too far from any of the others. And behind them strides Cyprus, his eyes keenly glancing about. He looks at all the graffiti, and shakes his head with disdain. Apparently, it's okay when terrorists attack people, but defamation of character? That's just not cool. He reaches a central point in the warehouse, and pauses. He lifts his chin and closes his eyes, and seems to grow intently focused on something, as if listening for a silent noise. He turns his head slowly to the left then to the right, then stops suddenly. His eyes open, and he points. Directly towards the wall where Claudine is hiding hear. The soldiers begin to advance.

They're going for the wall where she's hiding! Not good. Since he can read her autonomic nervous system, there's definitely a surge of adrenaline flowing throughout her body. It's flight or fight time baby, and if anything, it'll be the latter before the former. The young woman makes the sign of the cross and mutters a soft prayer for forgiveness as she presses her hands on the wall. "Man..I'm just going to have toredo this mural elsewhere.." she sighs, looking at her latest masterpiece with a bit of regret. She makes with the pushing, trying to go all Hercules, but superstrength was never her forte. Having direct physical contact does make it easier for her to manipulate the bricks of the wall itself and soon enough she weakens the structure so it can all fall over.

"I huff and I puff and I blow your house down!"

The wall falls towards the soldiers and any impact would be major..owwie. They'd see the former bits of graffiti and could probably make out that yes, NATHAN SUCKS BIG COCK. The elephant part really wasnt necessary anyway. Hopefully though, the soldiers scatter cause she doesn't want to kill that many people and as the dust clears, she can be seen standing there, striking a heroic pose.

"You know, if you wanted a date, handsome, you could just ask." and she winks towards Cyprus' direction.

The soldiers are blasted back, and are scattered to the ground, covered in brick and mortar. They're not dead, but they're probably going to be needing some hospitalization soon. Cyprus, as if prepared for the moment, just raises his arm, and keeps the blast of dust and debris from out of his eyes. He spares a moment to glance at the downed soldiers, likely checking to make sure how hurt they are, before turning his attention to the very clear and visible threat directly in front of him. He narrows his gaze on Claudine, and smiles in a way that fails to reach his cold eyes.
"Don't flatter yourself," Cyprus comments dryly, waving away some of the dust. "Your name is Claudine Salonga. You are a known Evolved terrorist, and an enemy of the state. You recently escaped from a holding facility, with the aid of an accomplice. Apparently, the Haitian pills have worn off. I'll have to write Mr. Dawson a memo." The smile takes on a bit more of an edge. "And if I wanted you dead or captured, Miss Salonga, I wouldn't have brought just three men. What I want are answers."

"Sorry, but the answer is no. I cannot date you, for you see, my heart belongs to another.."

More dramatic poses ensue as she rests her arm on her forehead in the end, giggling impishly the entire time. Who said she cant have fun while causing massive destruction and mayhem. It's part of her nature, like the raging passion of a thousand volcanos..or some poetic bullshit like that.

She hrmms for a few moments as she looks towards the man, resting her hands on her hips in the end and purses her lips. "what? You dont think I'm hot? My boyfriend totally thinks I'm hot.." she grumbles while shaking her head.

"And terrorist is so..meh. I prefer freedom fighter. Or revolutionary. I mean, we are in a state of apartheid, so I'd like to consider myself as a more aggressive Nelson Mandela, cept you know..my hair is way better." Now she's just being silly, but it's better than her venting in some other way. Besides, she's still happy about her now destroyed mural.

"So make with the question asking already.."

Cyprus seems unimpressed by the dramatics, and remains standing where he is. "There are advantages for cooperation, Miss Salonga," he offers. "We do not need to be enemies. You claim to be a freedom fighter… that means you might actually have some respect for life. Otherwise, you wouldn't be on the side you are. I'm looking for a murderer. And I would like to know if you had any hand in their movements." He continues to remain standing there, focused on Claudine. One of the soldiers begin to stir, and pull himself from out under the rubble.

"Nuh uh! No trying to get up while your handsome bossman is distracting me with small talk.."

Claudine narrows her eyes at one of the soldiers trying to get himself out of the rubble but the rubble seems to move, turning into a cocoon of sorts to keep him pinned down as she extends a hand in his direction. "You have me at a disadvantage I'm afraid..you know all about me and I don't even know your name? Mr…" and she waits for him to answer.

The news of a murder through has caught her attention and she hrmms for a few moments pursing her lips. "There has been too much killing as of late. But you're looking for a murderer, and so I'll be willing to help you out..some people belong in jail to rot for quite some like. Like Herr Petrelli for instance!"

"The President served his country in Bosnia, as well as the more recent war," states Cyprus. He glances a moment at the soldier and tilts his head slightly to the side. The soldier seems to calm, despite the coccoon he's now encased in, and Cyprus returns his focus to Claudine. "You may call me Mr. Donovan. I am the man the President has placed in charge of finding the one responsible for the deaths of two agents. They were killed by deliberate and malicious insect attacks. Rather… horrifically, I might add. Being stung to death by bees is a horrible way to die.

"I need to know how they left Washington, and where they might be currently," Cyprus continues. "If you cooperate, the President might be more inclined to ignore your previous indiscretions. Especially if you are interested in a line of work which values people of your… special nature."

Her eyes widen at the description and for once she actually seemed horrified at the acts. At least she kills people in one shot to make it as painless for them as possible. She makes a sign of the cross once more and mutters a soft prayer under her breath. She pauses, hrmming for a few moments trying to come up with the right words.

"That is a shame. It's a horrible way to die, you're right, but surely you have an evolved Orkinman, right?" she's just trying to add a little brevity to the situation, but she sighs, feeling bad at her snarky quip and crosses her arms across her chest. "There are people with the ability to telepathically manipulate animals. Obviously, you have one who specializes in insects. I do not know of any of the top of my head, but if you give me time I might be able to find out for you."

She sighs and shakes her head once more, rubbing at her temples. "Your files must have me down as a former agent of the Company. There's a reason I was with them, fighting on the human side. That's because I never wanted to see anyone lose control and do something like that.." Pot calling the kettle black maybe? Oh well. "But as for how they got out. It should be obvious shouldnt it? Petrelli's brother."

"There is always the other Petrelli," states Cyprus evenly. The Other Petrelli. It's almost strange to hear them so easily equated. "But I would prefer not believing that someone as close to the President were caught up in this matter. Also, it was not a matter of losing control that killed the agents." He reaches into a pocket of the tactical vest, and pulls out a small cellphone. He tosses it to Claudine. "When you have information, use that phone. It can only dial one number. It will bring you to an answering message with a time and a location. I will know when you get the message. I am the only one who will know that you are working for us in this matter… So don't expect outside help. We both know it would hinder you far more than it would help you."

Did she just make a deal with the devil? Or perhaps one of his agents? She doesnt know, but killing people with stinging insects. That's an awful way to die. Claudine catches the phone and pockets it, nodding a little as she wrinkles her nose a little. "I might help you get this one bastard who did it, but dont be expecting me to rat out anyone else, unless..ya know..they sorta deserve it."

She sighs a little as she starts taking several steps back, making a little tunnel behind her. "It's a pleasure gentlemen, but I must be off." With the tunnel made behind her, she waves her hands over the rubble, moving and shifting the rock, brick and earth off the soldiers. "And take care of your men. They're kinda squishy." With that, she jumps back into her hideyhole and disappears.

On the ground, the rubble with the graffiti says: NATHAN PETRELLI SUCKS COCK

Cyprus looks down at the rubble, and shakes his head. He gestures widely with his hand, and the men all begin to start groaning. Someone just woke them up. He pulls a radio out, and speaks into it. "The suspect is fleeing on foot," he states rapidly into the radio. "I've got three agents down, who need immediate medical attention! Get me some back-up, dammit!" And with that, he glances towards the tunnel, and gives a faint, calculated smile.

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