8051/City Fall: The Extended Offer

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City Fall: The Extended Offer
Date of Scene: 25 June 2019
Location: Yale Club - Midtown, Manhattan
Synopsis: Fiona is offered a job. Hunting down the Punisher.
Cast of Characters: Shredder, Fiona Glenanne




Shredder has posed:
    12am Yale Club. A higher level establishment to be certain. The Yale Club is a black tie place, the victorian style of the club and restaurant overlooks Midtown, lit up like a Christmas tree even in the black of night. Inside the lights have been lowered slightly so that the patrons can see out the tall vertical windows.

    Of course, at this hour, there are few people entering the establishment, it is mostly consisting of rich old men who have somehow achieved a beautiful young woman on their arm, or are engaging in some sort of political discussion, or business arrangement. Quiet corners, and several rooms are available, a formal looking man with a mustache stands at the conceirge in his tuxedo.

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fiona has to wear a dress. A. Dress. And not your average one. This place is black tie and she goes with the female equivalent and finds her way in, saying she was asked to meet somebody here. Curves being hugged by a dreess that's out of Gone with the Wind.....Fiona steps inside and looks around with a shrug. "Okay. I'm here to meet somebody" she explains and is shown where to sit. "do I need to curtsy too?" she asks and gets a look in response. "I'll take it as a no" she adds and is taking in the view with a pleased, if astonished look. This place is way out of her league...sure, she likes the finer things in life. God knows she bought new shiny, expensive shoes for this....but.....even this is more than she's used to.

Shredder has posed:
    "Of course," the conceirge remains polite, mostly ignoring any social inexperience that Fiona shows. He glances at the list. "And the person you were planning to meet?" he asks, glancing at his book on its podium.

    Since Fiona was not given a direct name, it could have been awkward if not for the voice that pipes up. "That would be me, Miles." Baxter Stockman, President and founder of TCRI and Stockgen. Terminal degrees in computer engineering, robotic engineering, genetics, biomedicine, AI development, and telematics. Every bit on level with people like Tony Stark, Lex Luthor, and Reed Richards.

    The African American man is fit with a smile that can disarm or intimidate, depending on its usage.

    "Ah, yes, of course Dr. Stockman," the conceirge bows slightly. "Very good." He gestures politely toward him with a look back to Fiona, stepping back. Stockman, for his part, walks briskly and decidedly forward, stopping at a polite distance. Like a gentleman of old, he gives a nod that might be considered a bow. Unlike a gentleman of old, he offers his hand first for a handshake.

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Shaking the hand, Fiona looks amused as she shakes it then smiles. "So" she says with a nod. "I've heard of you and your company. What makes you want to invite me here?" she asks with a curious tint to her eyes. "It's..very high society" Fi says and nods. "May I sit?" she adds and smooths out her dress. It's.....the color of her eyes, really. She's got on the aforeementioned heels, and the fact her hair's done up to be a fit in this club....it's saying something. Fiona looks like she fits in, which is good.

Shredder has posed:
    "Yes, of course," Stockman says with a firm shake. A bit firmer than might be expected to be given to a lady in a formal dress. "I'm not planning to stand this entire time." It might be considered a joke, but there's something in the tone that smacks of condescension as well. "I have a room reserved for us. Right this way."

    He leads without hesitation through the halls, and to a smaller room, a few of the tall windows looking out over the lights of the city. It might normally be reserved for a small party. A waiter stands at a small bar.

    "A drink?" Stockman offers, gesturing to the young waiter in his equally formal tuxedo.

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
"Water" Fiona says. It's a good trick, keep a clear head. If she's talking with a big shot CEO...she'l need a clear head. That. And....oh yes....she's already thinking ahead. Didn't bring a gun. But she doesn't need one anyhow. Instead...she's got her own ways of fighting. "Just water with ice" she says and looks serious for a moment. "So. Why'd you invite me here? I was told about this meeeting by a cop. So" Fiona says. "What's the deal?"

Shredder has posed:
    The waiter pours the water and ice without a comment, placing it on a cork coaster and a Yale Club napkin being placed next to it.
    "And a Moscow Mule," the doctor requests. With skill, the second drink is crafted and placed on the counter in similar fashion.

    "Yes, I have worked with the NYPD and many other people to ensure the stability of our city." He walks to a couple of couches that surround a a coffee table, and sits casually, placing the drink and coaster on the table, and leaning back to throw one arm across the back of the couch. He didn't wait for her to sit either. Apparently his manners are only out of what is required rather than a desire to be genuinely cordial.

    You may have heard about the Punisher in the news lately. Collapsing a building in Manhattan, attacks on the warehouse district. He is fighting a one man war against the city itself, thinks he's doing good for everyone." He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone. It's not a Stark phone, but has just as much technology packed into it. A holographic picture projects to the table from it, an image of the collapsed building. "Did a little digging on you, Ms. Glenanne. Looks like you've run into your share of people like Mr. Castle here."

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fiona nods. "Everyone's heard of him. Yeah he collapsed a building. What of it?" she asks and looks impressed at the phone. "So....you're telling me this. Cop said I was to meet a Foot here?" she asks and looks skeptical. "So what about it huh?" she asks, thanking the waiter for her wate and sipping it.

Shredder has posed:
    "Yes," Dr. Stockman says, a look of annoyance crossing his face. "The Foot are affiliates of mine. Given their...recluse nature, they asked if I would be willing to meet with you instead. They are looking to put an end to this city's prolific crime problem. As old-fashioned and backward as they may be, they are doing a good job. Muggings are down 67%. Reported murders down 41%. Hate crimes in Bushwick are down 97%, which is impressive with Trask's sentinels causing so much chaos, those barbaric shows of ego. They aren't even that well designed, I could show him a thing or two." he pauses in his negative tyraid that was spinning up. "I digress. The point is that they are doing something the police can't do. They are bringing order to the city. Vigilantes like the self-proclaimed 'Punisher' are nothing but wild dogs that further threaten the city and it's inhabitants. A total of 5 people were murdered, two of them fifteen year old children. Shot in the head." He shakes his head. "The Foot thinks that you might be helpful in taking him out. It wouldn't be sanctioned by any government, but if something goes wrong, they /and/ I would make sure you don't feel the wrath of the government. As payment, we'll get all those pesky charges dropped against you."

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fiona looks interested. "Well....look, I hear you on the vigilante front. I had a friend who was in the IRA. Go on. Call them terrorists...but they had rules. Drive a truck bomb? Call and warn them. Let the innocent people get out then blow it up. Point is. People like that" Fi says swilling her water around in her glass. "Had rules. Guess what. The British didn't" Fi points out with a sigh. "And the Punisher doesn't. Ever thought maybe the cops can't do much with all this crap, like red tape, like boo hoo, I shot a guy when he was robbing a store, now I'm on paid leave while they investigate me?" Fi asks cynically. "Go figure. The cops don't care. They got their quotas and arrests and then layers jump up and down and scream my client's innocent. I'll help you...but it won't happen overnight" Fi says "It will take time to learn and study the Punisher" she nods. "And I don't feel I can kill him, but I should be able to explain things to him."

Shredder has posed:
    "Explain things," Dr. Stockman echoes. "You realize that the only explanation a rabid dog like this understands is the business end of a gun, or an explosive, in your case," he gives a nod to the concept with his hand. "No one would expect it overnight, and we can provide you with support if you need more people on your team. That is not a problem. Or if you can't handle it, say now and we'll walk away, and you can keep your free water."

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fi nods and sips her water. "Well. I'm in. What information do you have on him?" Fi asks. "I've a list of what I'd need to make a run at the Punisher. I'm not going ot take him down with just a handgun, am I?" she asks. "I'm looking for a team, weapons, a place to plan" she explains and looks impressed.

Shredder has posed:
    "That we can get you. Every police report, every piece of information we can scrap up, we'll get available to you. As for a place to plan, we can handle that as well. Or, more accurately /they/ can handle that. I support their endeavor, but you can understand why I wouldn't want to be too closely related. Black masks and underworld dealings aren't really my cup of tea." He sips his moscow mule, the alcohol brushing his mustache.

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fiona nods and sips her water. "I understand, and...it's absolutely. I get it. But at the same time.....they know too and they're not people you want to mess with" Fi adds and looks impressed. "So...you're turning it over to them, yes? Then....I appreciate the chance to sit down with you. And" Fi nods, "If it's not too much trouble" she says checking the time. "I should head home soon.....but I'm in" she nods. "I can help you out if you keep your word too"

Shredder has posed:
    "A person in my position must keep his promises," Stockman says, "If he wants anyone to believe his threats. The Foot wants your help. Know that they always follow through on both. Stay on their good side, and you'll be taken care of. Get on their bad side..." he winces. "Don't get on their bad side." He pulls out a second phone, and tosses it toward her. This one is a Stark phone. The number for your contact with them is in this phone. I'd lock it as soon as you can. He gestures to the back, having a pocket with a gold coin. "That coin in the back of it? Don't lose it. They like some kind of club thing. Everyone with them gets one. Solid gold, too. I woulda just used tin personally. Don't understand the extravagence. But hey, they aren't economists, so whatever, it's their money."

Fiona Glenanne has posed:
Fi nods and pockets the phone after locking it. She's taking notes mentally...and nods. "A Stark phone? Thank you" she nod. She nods and looks amused and listens. "So....don't get on their bad side. Alright" she nods, making a note not to tick off the Foot. "Gold coin, got it. Phone. Got it. Go through their contact. Okay, as far as anyone knows I was invited here for a drink and a meal, right. Nothing to link you to the Foot?" she asks gently, trying to deflect any suspicion.

Shredder has posed:
    "Just another night at the Yale Club," Stockman answers with a nod. "I'll deny we ever met. You understand." He pauses. "However, with your talents, if you ever do need a more...legitimate form of employment, I'd be happy to consider it," he says. "Your skills might be useful in an R&D setting."