Starring:
Summary: A family is caught in the crossfire of the Petrelli family war.
Date It Happened: January 20, 2008
Crossfire
Le Phone
Ring, ring. Russian calling. Man, does Felix have some questions for Pete.
Up in the office of a certain meatpacking plant, Peter's phone rings rather loudly. He rolls over from where he's laying on the floor and picks it up. "Hello?" his voice sounds hoarse, and somewhat pained even. A man of Felix's experience would know that tone. Like someone who'd recently been pounded a few times.
"You sound like shit, Petrelli. You once promised me you'd help me get my daughter back, right?" Fel launches into it with neither greeting nor preamble. There's the whistle of wind in the phone's mic - clearly he's outdoors somewhere.
Sounds like shit, feels like shit. Peter reaches up to touch his mouth to see if there's anymore blood. Not right now. Good. "Yeah, I did. Not sure how much I can help, though. At the moment." Whatever's causing his tone might have a lot to do with that. There's an echo in the background, as if he's in a small room. "Do you have a lead on where they're keeping her?"
Felix notes, drily, "That I'm not yet sure of. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your father is a man named Arthur, yes? And your mother a lady named Angela?"
There's an exhale that could be anything between a gasp and a grunt, before Peter speaks, "Arthur Petrelli, yeah." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice. "And Angela Petrelli." Slightly less bitterness there for the moment. "You got caught up in the little inter-family war my parents got going, didn't you? I suspected your wife was, and I guess if she was, you would be too."
"Did you now?" Felix's voice is cold, under the veneer of joviality. "Yes. Yes, I did. Arthur duped her into…a very uncomfortable position. Do you have any influence with either of them?"
"First time I talked to my dad after thinking he was dead for two years, he stole half of my abilities," Peter says, the pained tone not leaving him. That might explain the pain in his voice. "I might have a little influence with my mother. I'm still running free and not in Company lock up."
Felix's voice softens a little. "I'm sorry," he says, simply. "His ability's a godsend for me, though. What -can- you do for me, with either of them?"
"You want him to take your daughter's ability, don't you?" Peter asks, seeming to understand that, while at the same time, he's definitely not happy with his father. That pain might be why. "I don't know what I can do for you with dad. I might be able to talk to my mother. The situation you're in, your wife's in… I don't think she'd want my father to have your daughter anymore than she wanted him to have me."
"I want him to take it. It'll never do her any good. Without there's a possiblity of a normal life, rather than having the Company keep her locked up like some sort of freak," Felix says, crisply. "What I -want- is for neither of them to have a hold on me, or my family."
"I can't really blame you. It is in her best interests to be with her family, and her ability will just make her…" Peter must be picturing what his parents, the Primatech and Pinehearst both, would use her for if they could. "I'll try talking to my mother. Don't know how soon I'll be able to, though."
"He's never been happy with my life choices," Peter says, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "Nathan's more the son that he wanted. Went into the military, became a lawyer, then a politican… I dropped out of law school and became a nurse. You could say we're estranged."
Felix snorts. "I'm sorry," he says, with a tinge of humor to his voice.
"Tell your wife to avoid my apartment," Peter finally says, pausing a moment. "I'm letting some friends stay there until they get their own place." And one of them would not be happy to see her at all, if the speculation in his head is accurate.
That has Fel's voice going…odd. "I'd not thought she was in the habit of frequenting it," he notes, wryly.
"She's only stopped by to drop something off, but I figured it was worth a warning," Peter says, not seeming to have caught the oddness in the voice.
"I see. I'l let her know," he adds, sounding more subdued. "Thanks, Peter," he adds, rather awkwardly.
"You're welcome, Agent Ivanov," Peter responds formally, even if his name was used. "I'll give you a call after I get to talk to my mom."
"Right," Felix says, almost curtly. And then signs off.
Click.