Sunday Bloody Sunday

[Bjorn]

Taking the seat which allows him to see both Kinomoto and the door behind him, Cadfael pulls out his (by now slightly battered) notebook and pen.  With pen poised, looking as if he's about to take notes, he patiently regards Kinomoto, waiting for her to begin.

[Carthrat]

"I should introduce myself properly, shouldn't I?" she comments, wryly. Placing her hands on the table, and leaning back on her chair, she beings to speak, keeping a crisp, accentless tone;

"I run an organisation based on information and discovery, Mr. Bowan. I want to know everything that's happening in the world. I want to know why. And I want to sell this information to those who can make use of it. It's a simple business of mine that has developed into quite the corporation. Now we buy, sell, trade, and deal in just about every substance known to man, and a few that aren't.

I want to know about people like you, Mr. Bowan. People who break the laws of physics- or at least look like they do. Not just mages such as yourself, but anyone who boasts unusual abilities. I'm sure you've seen a few strange things in your time. I won't go into detail there.

I want to hire you, Mr. Bowan. I want your help with a project; I'm told you have access to a unique form of magic; I'm told you're very skilled. But even if you were the worst mage on the planet, I'd want to hire you. I'm interested in hiring anyone who wants to be hired and has something to offer. It just so happens you have alot to offer."

She pauses for a moment, looking you up and down.

[Bjorn]

"What?" Apparently idly, Cadfael doodles on the notepad as he unhesitatingly meets Kinomoto's eyes.

[Carthrat]

"The details of what I want you for are technically classified, but being a CEO has perks," continues Shizue, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. "I want you to go to a dig site in the southern US. The coordinator claims that only you could possibly understand what's going on there. I understand you're a practitioner of runic magic?"

[Bjorn]

The normally blank visage distorts as Cadfael narrows his eyes slightly.  Ignoring the fact that she both misinterpreted (or evaded) his question, and her own inquiry, he says, "Coordinator.  Who?"

[Carthrat]

"You seem paranoid, Mr. Bowan," remarks Shizue, rolling her eyes. "The coordinator is one Donald Melba, a mage who's been in my employ for some time. Apparently, he crossed paths with you while working in the Cabal."

There's a vauge memory of Melba in there. A nice guy, really. Was only working in the Cabal because he didn't want to get stuck fighting them. Maybe a bit of a wimp, but who can blame him? Not a particularly good mage, but what he lacked in raw talent, he made up for in study. If he'd been keeping up that pattern since you left the Cabal, it's not hard to imagine him as a formidable man.

[Bjorn]

A part of Cadfael -- the inner part that is only Cadfael, and no one else -- thinks, Of course I'm paranoid, you silly ditz.  And if you don't even understand why, you must truly suck at your chosen line of work.

But the inner part, perhaps luckily, is rarely given the lead and never voice.  Instead, Cadfael changes tack slightly.  "What are you offering me?"

[Carthrat]

"What do you want?" replies Shizue, leaning closer. "I can offer a great deal, Mr. Bowan. People from your fringe tend to be diverse in their goals, wants, and needs, so it's now my policy to hear your demands before making an offer."

[Bjorn]

Cadfael simply stares at her for a while, trying to marshal the words that express the things he simply knows.  Then, "No.  You know what I have to offer you.  I don't know what you have to offer me.  You tell me what you have that I might want, and that lets me know that you are as good as you say you are."

That speech out of him, he slumps a little in his chair, almost as if embarassed about his outburst.  His eyes never change though, staring steadily at Kinomoto.

[Carthrat]

Shizue leans back, her grin widening slightly.

"I can offer you a great deal of money, for one," replies Shizue, producing a chequebook on the table. "Do you want a million dollars? Ten million? An investment portfolio guaranteed to last you through life? Price is no object, here.

As I've already told you, we deal primarily in information, here. If there's something you need to know, we will find it out for you. It's what we do. The location of some ancient spellbook? The plans of some paramilitary organisation? The middle name of some Middle Eastern warlord Information on numbers, equipment, and details of virtually any well-equipped group on the planet?

Maybe you could use a legal identity. Then again, maybe you don't want one.

Maybe you need equipment. Material resources, which can't be bought with money. Weapons? Specialised recording and detection equipment? Transportation? It's all in our purview.

Or you could just want to stay safe. I can assure you that nobody will touch you while you're in this building. I can assign bodyguards to your case, if you wish.. and no, they won't be the rabble that brought you here."

Shizue pauses for a moment, and straightens herself. "Does that bring up any ideas?"

[Bjorn]

Cadfael sits quietly for a long minute, staring blankly at Kinomoto.  "Anything I want?" he asks, quietly.

[Carthrat]

Kinomoto leans back. "As far as I can give. And I'll see that it is given."

[Bjorn]

That makes Cadfael nod.  "Want that in writing.  Exact price to be named at later time."

[Carthrat]

Kinomoto raises an eyebrow. "I'll have a contract prepared. It will be a few hours before it's complete. While that's being done, I would ask what you have in mind."

[Bjorn]

For the first time in -- well, a very long time, Cadfael smiles, a tight, hard grin.  It is hardly comforting, and in fact, highly unnerving, as the tattoos on his cheeks crawl out of the way, distorting about his moving lips to preserve their shape, vicous pools of brackish oil sliding about over flesh-coloured water.

"Resources."