[Daniel Maitland]

So, instead of capping off his Christmas Eve with some mulled wine and the knowledge his daughter was safely under his roof, Daniel was instead glaring at the bleeding, bruised, worthless piece of flesh that was trembling before him, barely able to stand up on his own and so resting his filthy body against Daniel's mahogany desk, causing his lip to curl.

"So, now I have to deal with your INCOMPETENCE! Do you have any idea what your fucking actions have done to me? No? No, of course you don't," and Daniel moved to the crystal decanter on the sideboard, refreshing his empty glass of bourbon and taking a soothing sip, trying very hard to resist the urge to kill the man. When he was pretty sure he wouldn't be committing murder tonight, he turned back, cruel, cold smile on his face. "What in the hell were you thinking? Who even HIRED you stupid cunts? You're told to go and retrieve my daughter and instead you decide to fuck her roommate? Think! Now I have to go and do damage control, make sure the stupid bitch doesn't file a report or hand over any DNA. There can't be anything that leads back to this organisation. We do NOT condone petty crimes, do you understand? Now...just get out. Go and clean up."

Honestly, he had no idea how those two cretins had found their way into his employ, but he was going to find and punish whoever was responsible. But first he needed to make a few calls to make sure his precious group was safe. And then? It might be time to call in the big guns.

The mutant problem seemed to be getting worse, not better, no matter how many of them they eradicated. It was a plague, a pestilence, and it threatened everything he and this city stood for. Where was the freedom when the law abiding citizens had to hide away in fear of those monsters? The monsters who dared eat in their restaurants, go to their schools and take their jobs? They didn't deserve to live, and it was Daniel's job to make sure none of them did.

Finishing his drink, he threw it against the door the man had quickly retreated through, watching the shards rain down onto the floor, hoping the shards of his group would be easier to put together.

[Daniel Maitland]

He sat at the back of the small auditorium, stifling a yawn. Today it was filled to the brim with young... naive... agents. This was as boring as it could get. What had he been reduced to? Stiff white collar, crisp black suit, a fucking tie; nodding off behind the backs of eager neophytes wielding guns and badges, from wealthy white-bread families. They pulled him from his cozy prison home for this? and they called it freedom? His head slowly fell back against the wall as he began to drift off to the drone of the speaker, an old fart Intelligence Analyst. An abrupt, albeit sparse, applause jerked him from his daze with a snort and he realized it was his name that set it off.

Rising stiffly from his hard chair, he nodded to the assembly, feeling their eyes boring into him, he what must be a curiosity and made his way to the laptop situated upon a small cart in the middle of the assembly. Computers were not his specialty but he opened the PowerPoint presentation he'd been working on and the screen in the front of the hall lit up with an interactive map of Manhattan. Areas were color coded and certain features highlighted, main power sources, lines and transit, etc.

Saki was not a man of many words... so any lecture was brief and to the point. This is where they are, where they are going, what they are doing, etc. No humor, no extraneous information, nothing unnecessary.

"You will find the Highliners in this area..." he circled the areas outside of the large train yard. "We are seeing the raping and... eh... muggings here. Especially here... theeeee West 33rd Street... Two instance of gang rape this month."

He ignored a few hands that went up, a few clearings of throats and an 'excuse me sir', scrolling the map to zoom into a section of Crown Heights and plowing ahead.

"The Dragons have been.... particularly active..." Saki paused impatiently at the fresh round of inquisitive agents vying for his attention, his eyes scanning the auditorium sharply. "We are watching them close. Recent activity here... meetings with questionable sources and they control the... turf...the... grid, here..." He was used to it. He hated it but he was used to it and his reaction was also predictable. Saki's voice pierced the audience in a painfully familiar tone. "WHAT?!!! IS IT?!!"

A sharp young man stood up, without a scar, without a worry line on his face and the scarred man turned only his blood-shot eyes upon him. "Mr. Oroku... Sir. Have you heard the rumors? I mean..." He drew back a bit at Saki's unfaltering sour expression but remained cool and professional. "I know this is important but... well.... they say you know everything... out there... about the... um... unusual... uh... sightings, interactions... A few recent reports clearly point to something beyond gangs and terrorists. Surely you've heard.... something."

It was almost challenging. Make that definitely challenging. The cocky young man made every effort to display his amateur version of power by cooly planting his hands on his hips, exposing his gun holster. Saki grunted. He became, as he so often did in these situations, very aware of the discomfort around his ankle. Even if he knew, he couldn't tell this guy or anyone in this room for that matter. Moreover, he didn't want to go anywhere near the subject. Mutants. Oh yes, he knew about them.

"I do not know of what you are talking about. Sit down. Now...."

[Daniel Maitland]

He must have stared at that phone for half an hour, hand reaching for it then pulling back several times before he finally picked up that receiver, but who wouldn't be intimidated by such a call? The organisation wasn't just big, but dangerous and unforgiving, and Daniel was more than aware that this call, that associating HATE with them was incredibly risky. But what choice did he have? His own group were coming across more and more of the infected, like they were...breeding, and he shuddered at the thought. Not only that, they were trying to hide, making it even harder to flush them out, and then there were the stories, like the one the stupid bastard had told him about a complete mutant, and Daniel began to wonder if they were the cause, if they were the ones spreading their disease and he knew they had to be stopped, gotten rid of.

Finally, phone to his ear, he dialed the number for the Foot's reception.

"Hello, this is Daniel Maitland. I need to speak to...your manager about a business proposal." Hopefully the name would be enough to get him past the first point of contact.

[Daniel Maitland]

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Sir." Came a sickly sweet voice on the other end. "Do you know your party's extension?" She was used to people trying to weasel their way into the inner workings of the company. The simple fact was that if you had access to it, you wouldn't be calling the front desk. That was the facade.

[Daniel Maitland]

Of course.

It had been awhile since Daniel had had to stoop so low as to use such people to help him, they were an unsavoury neccessity, and it irked him that they had to act all cloak and dagger, as if they were somehow important, but he was polite enough as he thanked the woman on the phone and hung up.

Staring at the shards of glass on the floor, he suddenly wished he hadn't been so rash, needing another drink to fortify himself before he did the unthinkable, but his hand was still on the phone receiver and he knew if he broke that contact he wouldn't have the courage to take it up again so soon and he pulled a small, leatherbound diary from his desk and flipped through it with his free hand, lips pursed as he looked for the right name. Ah, there. A young fellow he'd hired once, on the side, to help him get into a mutant stronghold. The lad had had skills with locks, though he'd never said who he worked for, if anyone at all. Still, Daniel knew a kid like that was only well fed, clean and healthy because he was being looked after, not because he was nothing more than a street kid, and when he dialled the cell, his voice was firm. There would be no lies, no arguments.

"I need to speak with your master, boy. I have...profitable business to discuss with him."

[Daniel Maitland]

�I might know where he�s at.� Came a thin voice after a long pause. �I might not.� There was another span of silence.

�Depends. What�sito�ya?� This naturally translated to something more akin to, �what�s in it for me?�

The kid had run for the Foot years ago, while just a wily little thing. He considered himself grown now at 19 and still in the good graces of whatever fragments remained of the once powerful clan. He was loyal to a fault and clingy � nothing had changed. Many of the Foot�s youth were this way; high on feeling wanted or needed. It was more than they often got from their broken families, if they were unlucky enough to have them.

The last time he stood on the doorstep of his fallen master though, he was shooed away like vermin � not an uncommon occurrence in the least but he recalled it now, while on the phone and smiled at the relatively warm memory. �You�re a strong man Mr. Oroku, still powerful! It�ll happen man, I know it. We�re still witchu man. � He had yelled back that day as he was unceremoniously expelled from the gruff man�s presence. He would never forget the look he received. Yes, a look. It was as if the man had actually considered his words and looked down at him �considered him- on the old rickety stair. True, he brushed it off before shutting the door but still... he�d done it slowly� deliberately.

He chewed on a fingernail now, nervous and excited, high again.

[Daniel Maitland]

It was a good thing Daniel had experience in dealing with people like this kid, or he might have lost patience quickly. Instead, he closed his eyes and counted to ten, wondering what might make the boy more compliant to his request.

"As I said, profitable business, business that would please your master greatly to be involved in, I'm sure. In fact..." Here he paused, as much for dramatic emphasis as it was to let him despise having to use such a filthy way of contact. "...I would wager that your master would be VERY grateful to someone who helped arrange a meeting between us."

Daniel, like most men of his position, liked to believe that his work was well known, that even though he might not be known by name as the head of H.A.T.E to the general population, and he wanted to keep it that way, to the underground he was becoming something of a hero. He certainly wasn't the only one who despised the mutant infection. Like any infectious disease, it needed to be stamped out. What might happen if those creatures were allowed to...breed? Soon enough, they would all be intermingling and there would be no way of controlling the spread and Daniel would NOT allow that.

"How's a hundred bucks?" He added, a note of annoyance in his words.

[Daniel Maitland]

The kid knew damn well, he could see Mr. Oroku's reaction clearly, all played out before him in his mind... buuuuuuuuuut he needed the money. He'd meet this guy, get paid, show him the boss and then be on his way before he was seen. To hell with it after that. Simple. Sure. What did he care?

"You gotchyoself a deal. Meet me at North 7th an' Bedford, tomorrow at noon. I know where he goes but you pay me first, 'cause I ain't screwin' around an' you ain't screwin' wit me. I'll be by the Nesquick Bunny, seriously dude."

[Daniel Maitland]

So that was it, a done deal and a cold smile spread across his face.

"I'll be there, don't you worry. Just make sure you're there, or things won't be pretty. Understand?"

Not that he was going to wait around for an answer. The kid would be there, unless he was dead, and though it would be an inconvenience, he could always find another contact. Besides, he had a starting point now, sure that the boy wouldn't want to meet up clear across town from wherever the man was hiding these days.

"I'll be there, and I'll have your money." Daniel hung up the phone, a sudden urge to disinfect the hand that had touched it for the filth he had been speaking to. Oh, Daniel knew gangs, knew quite a lot of the underground workings of the city and he considered himself to be far above the lot of them. He had money, a position of power in the city, and he'd thought he had the skilled men beneath him, but he'd thought wrong. Too many had been trying to get in on the action of HATE, but that also meant a flood of mindless thugs who, as had been shown, fucked things up badly. He needed stealth, needed restraint, or his kingdom was going to tumble down around him.

[Daniel Maitland]

The kid staked himself out early at the phone booth with the bright yellow Nesquick advertisement, hoping to catch a glimpse his former master before the man showed up with his money. It was a bustling intersection, full of shops and people. Cars lined the street and even more sped through the the congestion. He had to cover himself pretty good as he didn't want to be recognized by Saki. Hey, he was a free agent and he was sure if Mr. Oroku knew this was his doing, that he'd be flayed alive for it. Mostly he didn't care though. He wanted the old Foot back, the old ways, the old times. Maybe this new guy was their ticket.

The Foot he had followed was gone. The current Foot was a spoof as far as he was concerned, a bunch of high tech yuppies playing ninja in a corporation. How his master could let it happen was beyond him. The Foot he knew was different, was real... as real as the disheveled-looking man who just walked past and into the Japanese restaurant half-way down the block on his lunch break.

The kid turned his attention down to the pavement and awaited noon, hoping that despite the payoff, that this meeting would mean something... something big.

[Daniel Maitland]

Dressed much more informally than usual, and driving himself in his least conspicuous car, knowing the area and knowing he would rather avoid it at all costs but having to swallow his pride if he were to get the help he needed, he parked a good block away and made the rest of the trip on foot. It might have been dangerous if it weren't for the gun tucked under his thick jacket and Daniel, being who he was, was almost too confident in his ability to not be touched. Of course, the man he was trying to contact was supposed to be dangerous, but Daniel had dealt with gangs before, like those ruffians of dragons. They were all alike. They had brawn and numbers, sure, but none of them could dodge a bullet.

He could see the phonebooth up ahead now, and he tucked his hands deep into is pockets, feeling the reassuring weight of his weapon and smiled to himself, nodding at the occasional passerby politely and he paused, seemingly idly, at the booth, even leaning against it as if he were simply catching his breath, giving the youth a quick nod to acknowledge him.

"Wouldn't have change for the phone, would you?" he started casually, pulling out his wallet, not his normal one as this one only had a hundred dollar bill in it. If the kid decided to try and steal it, it'd be no real loss. The money wasn't what he cared about, after all. Daniel raised his eyes to look at the boy full on, to make sure he knew he was the right man. "I only have a hundred dollar bill. Can you do something with that?"

[Daniel Maitland]

The kids swiped the bill away without even looking at the guy and pointed down the street casually.

"He's in there. Mizu." and with that he shifted his weight and took a swagger off the phone booth, ready to leave. "But you never saw me, you hear?"

The kid took off at a brisk pace across the busy street and was soon lost in the throng of lunch-goers.

...........................................................

Meanwhile, Saki was only just receiving his simple fare of miso and salad in the bustling little upscale restaurant. He was seated facing the front windows in the far rear of the restaurant at a table hardly big enough for two. He never turned his back on the door and the people who used it. His eyes were seemingly downcast but deceivingly so, a laptop open in front of him on the small table and a leg out to the side as if he was either ready to leave at the drop of a hat or trip someone. The man's eyes were sharp but his face was clearly scarred and his hair barely tamed. He wore his suit as if he'd rather not and the scowl as if it was a permanent fixture.

[Daniel Maitland]

Bemused by the boys hastiness to retreat, Daniel merely took the given information and, stuffing his now empty wallet back in his pocket, meandered down the street toward the indicated restaurant. Like most eating establishments, the scent of food reached him far before the establishment came into view and he breathed it in. As long as it had been since he'd eaten out, it still didn't lose its appeal, the only thing stopping him these days being the fact you didn't know exactly WHO was preparing your food behind the walls. No, he wasn't about to let some mutant spit in his food, and so all his meals were prepared at home.

Stepping inside, Daniel glanced around, peering at all the heads bent to eat their food, a few business types meeting up for lunch and, rather than making it look too much like he was looking for someone in particular, he ordered a coffee and used the time to surreptitiously scout the room, glancing up every now and then. Too many asians in a place like this, and he frowned at the dark heads, and then his eyes flitted to the rear where another dark head was bent, laptop open. He would have discounted it if it weren't for the mans build and the way he sat. Call it a stereotype, but that man was far too powerfully built to be the kind who sat in an office all day, and then there were the scars...

Yes, that was him, and as he took up his coffee, he casually made his way to the rear of the room, though he was poised. If that was the man, he knew he'd better not startle him or he might find himself dead.
Sitting at the table next to him, he muttered to himself quietly, quite certain the man would hear.

"Good day to do some business, don't you think?" He raised his mug, gesturing toward the open laptop. "Could always do with more, though, or did I just put my foot in it?"

[Daniel Maitland]

His eyes rolled behind his heavy lids but he did not look up. Nor did he draw his leg in. He simply considered the remains of his soup and said, "I would not know."

It was the stance he upheld towards everyone these days, whether he knew them or not. If he had been paranoid before, he was on pins and needles now, waiting to be tested. The one time he would let down his guard, it would all be over. Such a short leash he was on since the fall. Saki sipped from the bowl and set it down gingerly, choosing to tip the lid of his laptop down a little as not to be spied so easily... guarded.

"Do I know you?" He asked in his low, harsh, and heavily accented voice. A quick glance without raising his head proper gave him the information he needed. Being who he was, he knew a lot of people; some well, others not so much. This guy looked worse than the usual scum though, better bred but worse off for it. He recently learned just how that worked exactly, having been off the streets as it were. Some of the best people were gutter scum and the worst, the ones that had ideas and the means to make them happen. He knew a lot more of those these days, which he found rather disturbing... even for Oroku Saki.

[Daniel Maitland]

"So different from the man I expected you to be," Daniel murmured, giving a nod to the waitress who set his steaming mug before him and left discreetly. He picked up the sugar container and seemed to consider it before he continued to speak, voice still low. "Different from how you were once described to me. It must be maddening to have fallen so far."

He was treading on dangerous ground, he knew it, but if there was one thing Daniel Maitland wasn't, it was afraid. He rubbed shoulders with thugs on a daily basis, and wasn;t afraid to get his hands dirty if the situation called for it. who could blame him, though, for preferring to simply hold the reins while his mules did the hard stuff? He had a company to run, a public face to uphold, that of the grieving widower, and he played it well. It was amazing how much power sympathy gave you.

"Perhaps you'd be interested in a chance to elevate your position," Daniel continued, ignoring the mans question about who he was. He'd tell him soon enough, but it would be on his terms, no-one elses.

[Daniel Maitland]

"Three stories." Saki corrected under his breath in a rather forced, restrained manner. "I wear many faces." It was true and what this man didn't know is what would ultimately be the end of him as far as Saki was concerned. Otherwise, he brushed off the insults as ignorance and continued, impatiently.

"You have, thus far, given me no reason to be... interested." Saki checked his watch to either speed this freak up or cut him off altogether. It would be all too easy to say lunch was over and leave. Besides, any man that enters a Sushi bar and orders coffee cannot be trusted.

The waitress stopped by to slip him his bill and hurried off. Saki took that for all it was worth and began fishing for his wallet.

[Daniel Maitland]

"Hate," Daniel whispered low, suddenly afraid that his catch would get away, that he would lose this golden opportunity to help his group regain what respect it had had. Of course to most they were nothing more than bullies, killers, but it was amazing how many praised their work in getting rid of...the impurities in the city. Though the ill informed threw around words like genocide and murder, Daniel knew that what he was doing was right. In fact, the city should downright thank him for his contribution...if they'd known he was in charge, and this was a dangerous game he played with the man across from him, not that he'd given a name, and not that he could pin anything on him.

"Allow me the opportunity to bend your ear further, to pique that interest of yours. I like to think we share a common need, a need to put this city to the way it once was." He leaned a little closer. "I have money and men, you have skill and stealth. Combined...well..." He took a sip of his coffee, pulling a face. He'd never gotten the taste for generic coffee, couldn't stand it. "...we could be unstoppable."

[Daniel Maitland]

Saki deliberately laid down his credit card on top the bill with a snap and looked up at the man for the first time and as he did, his mood seemed to change as if a curtain had been pulled aside.

"Oh yes, you do have my interest now." he said, quite honestly, without lowering his voice to the level of the other man. Saki lowered the cover of the laptop completely now with another snap and stowed it away. His tone sounded like he was simply making business small talk with a colleague. "However, do not pretend to know anything of my... needs. Let us only say that it is good today, that you have come to me."

Saki loved laying his motives bare on the table for the blind to see. It was the best way to hide, after all; right out in public. He leaned in and finally softened his tone for what he said next, folding his hands in front of him casually as he did so.

"If it is my skills that you require, know that they are for hire only. It is policy not to affiliate with..." He was about to say 'your kind' but refrained. "Business is business." Saki gave a slight, barely visible nod of his head to finish his thought because the normally chatty Asian waitress swooped by to collect the bill and disappeared to the register without a word. She was used to his business and knew to leave him to it. Saki watched her with his eyes only and then returned his attention, though he seemed to be looking right through the man, considering... something. He was much more versatile than most gave him credit for, especially after his "three-story fall". What this man may or may not have noticed... was now Saki's advantage.

[Daniel Maitland]

It grated at Daniel that he had to deal with arrogance such as this mans. He was down and out, for fuck's sake! He should be jumping at the chance to join with him and hate, but he managed to keep control of his composure, even giving a small, icy smile.

"Of course," he said coolley. "It was only an offer. But then, yes, I wish to hire your skills. Perhaps we can speak somewhere a little more private?" Doors had ears and windows had eyes, after all, and Daniel wasn't about to risk anyone associating him with a criminal element, even a discreet, virtually unknown one like the Foot.

He'd worry about his daughter later, give her teh chance to think she was actually living her own life. Kids did that these days, striking out on their own and she'd see soon enough that life on the outside wasn't that great. In fact, by the time he was done, she'd be begging to come back home.

[Daniel Maitland]

Saki shrugged.

"It is your deal... BOSS." Saki chuckled to spite himself. "You tell me where and I will come." he said condescendingly, as if it were a stupid question. The waitress slipped him his receipt, credit card and a pen. "Hai." he thanked her with a quick bow of his head. Saki signed the receipt and pocketed the copy with his credit card behind his jacket. He looked back up to the lousy coffee-smelling man and stood, throwing his laptop bag over his shoulder and fishing out his cell phone.