2012-10-07: Becoming The Enemy



Summary: Maxwell decides the best way to take down the enemy, is to be the enemy.

Date: October 7, 2012

Log Title: Becoming The Enemy

Rating: R

NYC - Brooklyn

Brooklyn is located on the western most tip of Long Island. Brooklyn has a lot of cultural diversity, an independent art scene, distinct neighborhoods and a unique architectural heritage. Along the shore are a bunch of abandoned warehouses that people rent out to hold concerts, parties, and other various events. Row houses can be found through out the most the borough built in the 19th century architectural style.

Maxwell rumbles into Brooklyn and a heavy street bike. Feeling practically naked without his Hooligan armor and definately out of his element but determined to see this through. His new identity is Frank Harrigan, former army grunt and auto mechanic with a small criminal recard for assault in Hell's Kitchen against folks from Mutant town. Identity is solid and will pass all but the most intense scrutiny.. Tony did a good job. Even without his armor he's not unarmed, having small weapons stashed in pockets in his fatigues and jacket. He pulls up outside of the legal office from the business card. Myers and Myers law offices. Parking the bike he climbs off and adjust his coat, taking a breath and heading for the door.

The building is run down and smells a bit musty. Half the lights work and elevator has an 'out of order' sign tapped to it, slightly yellowed and dulled from age. Out side the door look like a long since operational paging system as wires seem to be hanging off and it's quite decorated with graffiti. The wooden door is locked, but that would help if the wood wasn't broken and could easily be opened with a turn of the handled. Someone is either trying to hide and not get 'walk-in' business or they're really cheap.

Maxwell hmmms and looks over the paging system, giving the button and experimental press anyway and waiting a second or two. If there's no response he grabs the handle and gives a slight shove to open the door. "Man what a Dump.. hope that advice wasn't a load of crap."

A small shock is accompanied with the pressing of the button along with a buzzing noise, and just as Maxwell is opening the door to step outside, a weasely crackling and staticy voice comes over the intercom. "*zzzt*-lo who is th- *zzzt* *zzzzzzzzzt* *zzzt* this piece of sh-*zzt* I'll b-*zzzzzt* b-*zzt* be down!" The voice finally says and in a few moments, appearing at the door is a short portly man with sweat pouring down his bald head and sweat stains showing on his rumpled suit. "W-who..who are…What do you want?"

Maxwell looks the man over for a moment "Um Hey man.. I'm looking for.. Myers? Either one of them I guess. I got a problem and got reccamended this place." He pulls a battered business card from his pocket, another forgery from Tony made from the pictures he took earlier and roughed up bad to cover any flaws.

The man looks suspiciously at Maxwell. "Who recommended me?" He snaps almost way to quickly. "I'm a very busy man and I know it's Sunday but I a bunch of work to do and am in the mist of it right now. If you could come back another time." He says about to shut the door but then sees the business card and grabs it from Maxwell's hand. He looks at it closely, takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and looks again. Then he rubs a part of it with his finger. There's a symbol on the business card that he seems to stare intently at for several moments before handing it back to Maxwell. "So what did you say your name was again? I'm Myers, Thomas Myers, come on in, come on in. What did you wish to see me about?" He tone turning overly friendly as he walks with Maxwell up a narrow stairwell.

Maxwell steps through the door as he's allowed in. "Frank, Frank Harrigan.. got myself in a bit of trouble a few days back and a guy in my apartment building gave me the card, said you do alot of work in this sorta thing. You see I live out in Hell's Kitchen and a couple days ago there were these.. mutants outside my apartment. I told'um to get the hell out of the neighborhood but the one got lippy and I ended up giving him a couple whacks with a tire iron. Didn't kill the guy but they both saw my face. I know it's just a damn mutant but they call the cops and I'm up the creek again ya know?"

The office is made up of too small rooms, what looks like a waiting area and an office in back. "Pleasure to meet you Frank. What something to drink? I have whiskey, scotch, uuhhhh that's about it." There's a voice from a second room of the small office. "Tom, who the fuck did you bring up with you? This is a private meeting!" Yells a voice sounding annoyed. "It's a man with mutant troubles, sounds like a pest removal might be in order!" Meyers yells back leaving it questionable at all if he's really a lawyer. Two men walk out from the back office, both wearing rumpled dress pants and shirts. "Nice to meet you, I'm Greg Connelly and this Terry Price. So I over hear you got yourself a mutant problem?"

Maxwell looks to Myers and nods "Scotch is good thanks." He looks to the other two as he hears voices and gives a short wave to the pair "Hey, well not so much mutant problems as I guess a problem with mutants. Lost my first apartment and business when some crazy bitch set fire to half of Hell's Kitchen last year. Insurance wouldn't cover it.. I didn't have mutant damage on the policy, I mean who the fuck buys mutant insurance? But yeah, saw these two out in front of my building a few days ago, lost my temper and went after um. Never seen them before but if they call the cops on me I'm as good as back in Rikers. Been in trouble for this kinda thing before. Guy gave me that card and said this place give legal advice for folks that have had my kinda.. issues."

Meyers brings over a tray with four glasses of scotch and sets it on the table, sitting down in one of the seats and chugging his. Tom on the other hand walks over next to Maxwell, takes one glass and hands it to him before taking one for himself. "Hell's Kitchen is one of the worst places for that shit, I swear that Mutant Trash is gonna move in on it and expand their shithole neighborhood." He then smirks a bit. "Fucking insurance scams, you know how many of us have had that problem. Don't cover mutants, really, get those fucking freaks off the street, am I right?" He says with a laugh taking a drink from the glass. "Anyway, Legal advice….I guess that's a good word for it, we more try to make the mutant see their place in the world. They shouldn't have any rights, especially when it comes to calling the cops on them. We more like to teach them what their place is, that way they know they're not worthy to little things like 'pressing charges'.

Maxwell takes the glass and nods "Damn right, I mean it's been a few days and no cops yet but I wanted to cover my ass in case somthing went south ya know? Should just wall off that slum they're all camped out in and be done with it. You know like that "Escape from New York" movie? That would keep um out of the lives of regular folk. Course if I ever found the one that torched my garage they'd need to dredge the damn river to ever see it again." He takes a sip from the scotch and looks at the three men again. "Sorry shouldn't be talking like that.. just gets my fucking blood up ya know?"

Tom chuckles and smiles as he listens to Maxwel….Frank speak. "Damn straight Frank. But your wish might be coming true soon enough if we have our way about it." He's easy trusting enough of Frank seeing that he had a business card with 'the mark' on it, indicating that he came here for just this reason, a hatred of Mutants. "So, Frank, did you ever think about going out and doing something about the mutant infestation? I mean, not just on your own but with a group?"

Maxwell looks at Tom "What you mean like those friends of Humanity guys? I don't think making picket signs and holding rallys in Central park is gonna do much. Course if I had my old M16 from my army days." He tosses back the rest of the scotch "Sorry that didn't come out right. I'm just pissed that I had to go six months on an oil rig out of fucking El paso and just get back on my feet. I get settled into a new apartment and it's the same old problems all over again."

"Frank, don't worry about it. Anything you say here won't be used against you, you'll find that you're among like minded folks here." Tom says in an overly friendly manor. "I guess you can say kind of like them, ever heard of the Purifiers? They're a bit more dedicated to the cause than just pickets and shouting. They like to go out there and do something about it. You might have seen their latest works in Salem Center?"

Maxwell turns a disbeleiving look to Tom "I saw the news, thought that was one of those Friends Rallys that got jumped by the Muties?" He's trying to keep interested but not seem TO eager, doesn't want to make them suspicious. "I mean yeah that mutant Chick was on the news saying the Church picked the fight but that's what they say about everything."

"It's taken time." Tom begins losing the false charm and getting more serious. "To get things just right. You see, there are more and more people out there that think like us, and it was just a matter of getting the word out to them. Now we're finally ready to start making our move, it started in Salem Center. This is one of our finer points but those mutant bastards…" He break off into a laugh. "They're right, it doesn't matter though, it's all whose in whose control and how you spin it. But seriously, it was just a matter of time before we did something and we couldn't stand around waiting, we don't have the time to."

Maxwell nods as he takes all this in, wishing he'd worn a wire but knowing this is just the begining of the damning evidence he might come across if he gets in deeper. "Well if you're looking for some help you definately got my attention. Would love to get a little payback on those bastards. Don't know how far you guys are taking this but I can get.. things. I still know alot of guys in the old neighborhood. Don't think any of them would be worth a crap in a fight but like I said I can get.. things if you catch my meaning."

Tom nods as he does catch his meaning. "We have access to a lot of…things as well but can always use more things. But right now it seems like you'd be a great fit to our little outfit." He says finishing off his drink before putting it down. "But it's a bit more difficult than to just let you into our club." They need to do a background check after all. "I'll arrange a meeting for you with someone higher up and they can see where you fit, if you do. So what kind of skills do you have Frank?"

Maxwell nods, he guesses he'll see how good Tony's work is sooner rather than later. "Well I'm Ex-Military.. Infantry unit so I know my way around a gun. Decent Welder and Mechanic, took a bit of Boxing and Karate back before basic training so I can hold my own when I have to. Can operate anything from a Motorcycle to a Tank."

"That's one thing we're not lacking, ex-Military, but they're always welcome." Tom says. "I was ex-military myself, when you get out it's like you're still itching for the action and when you finally find an enemy to hate and attack again, it's like you're alive again. Trust me Frank, I'm sure that this will end up finding something you've been missing here with us. Glad to know you probably won't have a problem pulling the trigger on a mutie. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people talk all tough and shit and when it comes to the big moment, they freeze. They're not people."

Maxwell nods "Damn right, course the worst part is on alot of them you can't tell till they set somthing on fire or some other crap. Need to put bells on these freaks like fucking cats or somthing. I can draw down on anything I need to, been awhile since I've last used to a gun but it's somthing you never forget. I'd just need a little practice on the range to get back into form."

"Then you'd be glad to know that we got some device of some sorts that can detect if you're a mutant or not." Tom says proudly. "I ain't to sure how it works myself but them guys on the very top, they can tell whose a mutant so they can give the orders. Also when we're out there, we got a lot of high tech stuff to help us with the job. Some of this stuff, I swear it's out of the future Frank."

Maxwell sits back "Sounds like some pretty heavy shit Tom, but you definately got my attention. So I guess the next question is what do you need from me to get this party underway?" The more he hears the bigger and bigger this sounds, he's starting to wonder if this was such a good idea but there's no turning back now.

"For starters I need a way to contact you, and what the best times are. I just want to give your name to the big guys and then they'll see where you fit in best, like I said. They might even want a meeting with you, it's likely." Tom says before breaking out in a grin. "But you don't have anything to worry about, you'll fit in well around here, I promise you that."

Maxwell nods "Well I got one of them cheapo cell phones.. only thing I can afford right now so call after 5 or it burns up my minutes. If you got a scrap of paper I can give you the number. Wouldn't reccamend coming to my apartment the landlady really hates non-paying visitors and has a 12-gauge fulla rock salt. Crazy old bat.."

"You have to be crazy to live in Hells Kitchen…no offense. You have your reasons and you wouldn't be in that place if it wasn't for those low lifes." Tom says as he fishes a pen and piece of paper, which is a mailing card ripped form the inside of a magazine. "You know where we're located and Meyer's always here watching over the place, usually with one of us on guard wit him."

Maxwell writes the number down "Hey spent most of my life in The Kitchen.. lotta good folks there just trying to get by. They don't deserve to be subjected to this bullshit. Mabye I am a little nuts but who isn't these days, whole damn world is going crazy." He hands the card back to Tom.

Tom takes the card and offers a hand to Frank. "It was good meeting you Frank, you're a good man. I think you have the potential to be a guardian angel of sorts to The Kitchen, especially since you seem to love it and it's so close to Mutant Town. We'll be in touch, promise."

Maxwell shakes the offered hand and smiles a bit "Thanks Tom, think this is the best decision I've made in awhile. If I can keep the peace a bit so much the better. I'll be waiting for the call."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License