One Night in Bangkok [phoenix]

Clayton had been enjoying the start of his so-called retirement until about three days ago. Retirement defined as packing his shit and moving to Bangkok without telling a soul. It was another of his characteristically selfish moves, and one he at first deemed the best yet. He’d been there for weeks without running into his wife or receiving any of those annoying and vaguely threatening phone calls from mysterious underworld kingpins. This was probably due to the fact that he disconnected his phone before disappearing; another decision he was sure was a great one.

However, in those few weeks Clayton again found himself too close to a criminal underworld for comfort. In this case, he’d become a regular at a gambling den run by Kenneth Blackcrown, an ex-pat king amongst the various criminals running through Bangkok. Vicious, British, and seemingly always untouchable. Clayton chose Blackcrown’s illegal gambling den over the rest for two reasons. The first was that Blackcrown considered Thai a dirty language and required anyone working for him to speak English; He did not share Blackcrown’s prejudice, but appreciated a place to gamble without a language barrier. The second was that he preferred to take money from other criminals over anyone else.

His one and only meeting with the bastard son of England was in a high-stakes poker game three days before. He managed to piss Clayton off in three separate ways.

The first was simply joining the game. Kenneth joining put Clayton into an odd position. The deck was clearly stacked in the owner of the den’s favor, but if Clayton backed out then, it would have been seen as a sign of disrespect, which could mean grievous bodily harm for him.

The second was thinking he was better looking than Clayton. Sure, his clothes were ridiculously expensive and his looks put Claytons plain features to shame, but Clayton thought Kenneth had a dumb chin and stupid ears and wasn’t nearly as attractive as anyone thought he was.

The third was that insufferable, pretentious, arrogant, posh accent. He thought it was enough to make anyone want to break the guy's face.

Those three things drove Clayton to yet another brilliant idea. He was determined to clean Blackcrown’s illegal casino out completely and then take his retirement someplace nice.
Someplace like Paris where he was sure the men were feminine enough to the point that every woman in the city would fall for him on sight.

So there he sat at the blackjack table, dressed in his typical grey suit, and waited for a plan to formulate itself.

Phoenix walked out of his bedroom, dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black button up, black vest, and red tie. His bags were packed and he was ready to get on the private jet down at the airport. Andrew was heading to Bangkok to take care of a favor for a friend. In College one of his best friend's Mohinder found out he was the hero Phoenix. A few days ago, Andrew got a phone call from Mohi about the local mob taking over his city. From the sound of his friend's voice, he could tell things must be pretty bad. He told the Talons that he needed to help out a friend and would be gone a few days. Tyuki and Sean didn't seem to mind, they sat on Phoenix's couch eating cereal and watching anime. "Well I'm taking off guys." he said to his friends, throwing on a pair of black vans, and aviator sunglasses.

"I should be back in about a week, I'll call you guys when I get there and give the the 4-1-1 on everything."
He hugged his girlfriend good-bye and then hugged his buddy Sean. "See you guys soon." he said as he picked up his luggage and threw on a leather jacket. He got into the driver seat of his mustang and put the key in the ignition. The radio kicked on loud. Andrew put his luggage in the back seat and threw the car in reverse, closing his door.

The hero arrived at the airport after a short drive and parked on the top level of the parking garage. He looked the the passenger seat and saw his mask. He picked it up and looked at it. "This time, I'm not Phoenix." he thought to himself, putting the mask in the glove compartment and locking it.

He made his way through security and was walking towards his flight. He was supposed to go to gate B-113.
Once at his gate, he flashed his passport, and walked into the plane. It was a comfy private jet. Sean's money had come in handy for the Talons to have a private jet now.
The hero leaned back and prepared for a nap, drifting off to sleep, he thought of what he was going to do when he got there.

The plane landed as Andrew awoke. The Pilot shouted back to him, "Welcome to Bangkok Mr.Pettilgio."
"Thank you Captain." Andrew said, handing the man a $100 bill. In his luggage was $2,000,000 in cash. Of course, he called in a favor at the airport, so the money made it through the security no problem."
Walking towards Customs he was the first in line. Quickly he flashed his passport and it was stamped and handed back to him. He made his way towards baggage claim and waited for his stuff.

Grabbing his red luggage he was off towards his hotel. It was in the center of town. Not a 5 star by any means, but the nicest he could get. He checked into the hotel after a short cab ride and took the elevator to his floor. Once inside his room, he grabbed about 100,000 in cash and made his way towards the closet underground club. He had been filled in by Mohi earlier about the place. Once inside he looked around and all eyes seemed to be on him. He had his sunglasses on still, but he removed them and sat down next to a man in gray suit.
"Hey, the name's Andrew." he said sticking out his hand for a shake.

Clayton eyed the newcomer skeptically. It wasn’t that the kid was clearly American that he found odd, as he’d met a few other Americans in his short time there, though that was part of it. It was mostly the Andrew’s apparent age that threw him off; no way he was more than a year out of highschool, if at all. Just what exactly was an American kid doing in a place like that? Clayton figured he was probably some lawyer’s son looking for excitement where he really shouldn’t. He heard about that kind of thing all the time. But what did he know and what did it matter? He almost reluctantly shook Andrew’s hand, and offered him no name. He usually found if you brought something else up quickly enough, they always forgot to ask. “Look kid, this table has a thousand dollar minimum. If you’re gonna be sitting there, you better know how to play.” He didn’t want to come across mean, but he certainly did not want Andrew getting friendly with him. He was there with a purpose and the cards were distraction enough. He needed to keep alert. To pay attention to when and where money was changing hands on the floor, and which of the men seemed to be the most in charge. He hoped to have this job done in less than a week, so he needed to know the place a lot better than he did.

Why did the tourists always pick him?

He was not hoping for new friends, especially ones he’d have to babysit.

The dealer placed cards in front of Clayton and the old Thai man to Clayton’s left.
He looked to Andrew, “You play? Bet now.” His English was far from perfect, but his words were clear enough.

"Thousand dollar minimum? That all?" Andrew asked sarcastically. The young man pulled out five grand and plopped it on the table. "I'll play." Andrew said with a grin and pushing the money towards the dealer. The game began and the cards were all dealt. Andrew's eye's opened wide when he realized what was in his hand. "Well look here." Andrew said looking down at the Ace of spades and jack of matching suit. "Blackjack" he said in his head, still keeping a straight face. In fact, he almost looked disappointed.
The dealer's card was a 7, Andrew wasn't too worried, he looked to Clayton and the man next to Clayton wondering how they had done with the draw. Turning to one of the women walking by with a platter of drinks, he ordered a rum and coke. He wasn't much of a drinker, but this was a special occasion.

Andrew waited for the dealer to flip his next card revealing a 10 of hearts. "Seventeen" Andrew thought in his head. He looked around the table for the reactions of other's but neither of the players seemed to be showing much emotion. He would just have to wait and see what they got.

The dealer gave him the look and Andrew put his cards down. "Not bad for my first hand." he said to the table. He was positive he had this round won.

Andrew sounded cocky, but Clayton didn’t mind. He knew it would only make it better to watch him lose. But damn it, the kid got lucky. Very lucky.  If he never sat there the 21 in front of him would have been Clayton’s. Instead he was stuck with a hand of 8 and 5: a hard 13. With the dealer’s 7 showing, he decided to play aggressively and hit. The dealer calmly pushed the top card of the deck onto Clayton’s 13. 9 of hearts- a bust.  If that wasn’t enough to make Clayton wince, he made the mistake of looking at the old man next to him. The guy had a 12 in front of him; that 9 would have looked good on top of it. The old man shook his head and muttered something in Thai before he signaled to the dealer for another card. It was a 10.

The little old man’s face turned bright red. He shot up out of his chair which fell to the floor.  He gathered what was left his of his chips off the table as a furious string of Thai cussing flew from his mouth.

Clayton couldn’t blame the man. He probably would have done the same in that situation except in English. He looked to Andrew, “Now look what you did. Taking my 21 like that.” before Andrew could answer he turned to the dealer, “What’d that guy say? ...Actually, never mind.” He decided he would rather not know.  Clayton turned back to Andrew, “Whats a fresh faced kid like you doing in such a wretched hive of scum and villainy, anyway?” He shot a quick half-hearted ‘no offense’ to the dealer who only smiled and shuffled the deck.

The ladyboy cocktail waitress returned with Andrew’s drink, and one for Clayton.  Clayton knew he didn’t order any rum or coke. His half-finished gin and tonic sat infront of him still. “Where did this come from?”

The waitress leaned against Clayton, and put her hand on his chest, “Mr. Blackcrown sent it – and me – over to wish you good luck tonight.”

It was clear he was being insulted. He wondered if the waitress knew she was an insult; not that it would make it any more or less of a jab at him. Blackcrown was going to pay for Clayton’s damaged pride and he didn’t even know it.

“Well, uh, Miss? Look, why don’t you take this and take the night off.” He took a hundred dollar bill out of his jacket pocket and pressed it into the waitress’s palm to send her away, “and make sure you tell Blackcrown I was happy as hell to accept this drink. He’s too kind, really.”

He muttered an insult about Blackcrown’s nationality under his breath as the ladyboy walked away.
“So anyway, what did you say you’re doing here?”

Andrew had won the hand. Off just sheer luck he had walked in, sat down, at got a 21. "How 'bout that?" the young man said reaching in and grabbing all the chips. It was apparent the man to Clayton's left was unhappy with Andrew winning. The young American didn't even move when the Thai man had his breakdown.
"Well actually Im here...." he was cut off by transsexual offering Clayton a drink. Andrew just took a few gulps of his drink and smiled widely as the male or female touched Clayton's chest. It took focus for the hero to not spit up his drink in laughter. "Blackcrown." Andrew made a mental note in his head. His friend Mohi had made a mention of such a name, it was now the young man's time to listen to the next few bits of conversation intently.

The man to Andrew's left used money to get this man or lady to go away. That alone showed there was more woman in the waitress. Andrew sucked down the last of this rum and coke and ordered another one, handing a crisp Andrew Jackson to a new waitress.

Andrew put another three thousand dollars on the table, in hops of finding more about this 'Blackcrown' fellow. The other American seemed to have remembered his question against what Andrew had hoped. "I'm here to take care of a few things. I run this 'industry' back in the states. Just gotta sort out a few things out here for a friend." Andrew said with a genuine smile. His fresh rum and coke arrived and Andrew didn't take long to knock that one back as well.

It was only the first club but Andrew had already heard a name he had planned on digging for, this made him feel lucky. As the dealer began to deal the cards once again, Andrew began to talk while looking at his hand. "You're clearly an American, what are you doing over here?" the hero asked with a pair of fours in his hand.
He was beginning to wonder who this man next to him was.

“Industry, huh?” Clayton figured that either meant the guy was either in the porn business and there to scout out the cheapest foreign talent or he was some kind of up and coming Mark Zuckerberg type. He seemed too fresh faced and unusually talkative to be part of anything too soul-crushingly evil like the rest of the gamblers there.

“Me? I’m just here to gamble.” If you thought about it, that was only really a half lie. He figured it best to leave out the fact that he was also scoping the place out to rob it blind. He considered going in without any real plan that night, but two things got in the way. The first being that things would likely get violent quickly, and Clayton had no interest in taking any lives that didn’t need to be taken. The second was that he was most assuredly being watched, and Blackcrown sent the waitress over to prove it. Not that Blackcrown could have known what he was up to, but it was definitely possible that his reputation caught up with him there.

Clayton also became aware of a very large man at the table behind him. He had to be around 7 feet tall, and all muscle. His skin had an unnatural grey too it and looked far too rough to be human; more like a rhino’s hide than human skin. His bright white hair was kept back in a ponytail that made his whole face visible, so there was no mistaking that his attention was directed. He was staring directly at their table. Clayton assumed he was the one being watched, but it very well could have been Phoenix he was after.

Clayton nodded to the man and received the most unnerving smile he’d ever seen in return. The man’s teeth were pointed, like a shark’s. He turned back to find the dealer staring impatiently at him. “Ohh. Uh, hit. Sure, whatever” Another bust.

The thing Clayton had been waiting to see passed behind the dealer. Large bags of cash were pushed on a wheeled cart by an older man accompanied by female identical twins in matching dark suits, and dark shades, carrying identical uzis. He’d have to watch them closely.

Another hand went by and Andrew was beginning to get a little drunk. He as well as the man sitting next to him had both busted. Ordering one more rum and coke, the young hero felt the presence of someone behind him. Right before he turned around he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You aren't from around here are ya?" the voice said from behind Andrew. As he turned a man with scaly skin and an evil smile was staring into his eyes. "Uh, no I'm not. I don't take it you're part of the welcoming committee?" the hero said with a sly grin forming across his face.
"The new guy is a comedian boys!" the man said laughing maniacally. "I can tell we're gunna have some fun with you."

The young hero was torn on what to do. This guy was clearly not a regular human, which made Andrew question how many other "different" people were around. "Fun? What do you have in mind?" Andrew asked preparing to knock this man's lights out. Two men stepped up on either side of the trouble maker. Staring up at the 7 foot tall, scaled man and his friends, the hero knew numbers were not on his side. It also didn't help his cause that nobody here knew who he was.

Turning back to the man who was sitting next to him he gave him the 'some help here' look, but he wasn't counting on any favors after only a short conversation. As he looked up a cart of money passed by, followed by a set of twins. Andrew thought nothing of it.

Looking back up at the man threatening him, Andrew made a fist with his right hand. "Alright tough guy, let's do this." As soon as Phoenix finished his sentence the man threw his first punch. Andrew caught the man's hand out of air and squeezed tight. "It's clear you have no idea what I'm capable of. That's not surprising. Most 19 year old's aren't as strong as me." Andrew said with another grin forming across his face. The man was not happy with the failure of his attack. Andrew let go of the attackers hand and grabbed him by the shirt with his left hand. "Say goodnight." the hero said pulling the man into a right haymaker.

The man was out cold standing up in Andrew's grasp. The hero let him go and everyone in the club had their eyes on him. The trouble maker's friends stepped towards Andrew together. "I guess you didn't catch anything watching your friend. If you both don't want to be eating through a straw for the next few months I suggest you turn around, and go the fuck back into whichever hole you crawled out of."

"I don't care what the liberal elite media say, Asian people all look alike." Slipping into the fold in between hands like a draft of air through a creak in a poorly constructed house, Elaine 'Danger' Angara tapped her fingers against the two cards sitting before her. The movement of the twins with the briefcase caught her eye as suspicious, but not as much as the cards facing her. "Am I supposed to look at the cards?" She asked, starring down at the King of Hearts and Three of Spades. Instead of her normal gaudy outfit she dressed in a more appropriate black dress

"That is why they are face up." The dealer continued the shuffle around the table.

"Okay, why is this guy stabbing a sword in his head?" She didn't think less of the doomed king. "I bet he's trying to refinance a ranch in this down economy." She elbowed Clayton in the side, jabbing a blow against her own family misfortune in a misinformed attempt at conversation. "I want a card." A Five of Clubs fell on top of her stack. "I can get as many as I want right?" The dealer nodded his head in the affirmative. "More." An Eight of Hearts broke her at Twenty Six. "More."

"You're out."

"I thought whoever got the highest score won." She looked down at her stack of misfortune in bewilderment. "I want a do-over." As she called for her wrong to be righted, a burst of energy and excitement came from the table. She recently took a vow of nonaggression as part of her entry with a group of Bhuddist monks she located at a small community college in Humble, Texas; seeing the violence only reminded her of her spiritual journey to where the philosophy sprung from.

"I think the two of them should be escorted in a congenial way away from the rest of us." Elaine muttered in the vicinity of the dealer. "You see Janitorman, I've turned over a new leaf. After a spiritual journey and awakening, I've found that all problems can be solved by simply standing back and evaluating the problem while other people are too distracted watching a kid fight some other guy at a table."

In the drop of a hat, or rather the drop of a body, Clayton’s life went from semi-decent to pretty horrible. Or did it? He wasn’t involved in the fight for once. Whatever problem the local boys had with Andrew wasn’t Clayton’s problem at all. He was actually thankful for the violence; it made for a perfect distraction. Andrew seemed to be able to handle himself, so Clayton didn’t feel bad leaving him to fend for himself.

That was when he heard her. He always heard her before he saw her. It was like her voice was an alarm warning of the tsunami of fuck that she always carried with her into his life. Elaine Angara was sitting right next to him. Though he should have been used to it, he was so stunned by her sudden appearance that he almost didn’t feel her elbow jam into his side. He simply stared blankly while she spouted nonsense. Finally, the concept of verbal communication came back to him, “Elaine, how did— ? But I came all the way here specifically to avoid—“ Well, it sort of came back. Another elbow caught him from behind during the scuffle happening. It managed to bring him back to his senses. The twins with the guns paid no mind to the fight, and continued to escort the cash. They took a right down a hallway that he knew lead to an elevator. He decided to hurry and catch up to see if he could figure out exactly what floor they were headed to. He grabbed Elaine’s shoulders to emphasize the seriousness of the situation as if she would get it or care if she did, “I have something really important to do. Please, please, please just stay right here and don’t move at all whatsoever, ok?”

To hell with waiting for an answer from her, and to hell with his chips. He dashed off after the real money.

Andrew's decision to retaliate had caused somewhat of a brawl inside. A few men started pushing each other with everything going on, and before long, about seventy percent of the club was fighting. "Good job Andrew, let's blow your cover the first day you get here." the young hero though to himself, barely able to concentrate over the amount of screaming. With enough people going at it, Andrew was able to slip out of the mosh pit the room evolved into. From behind him, he felt someone grab him by the face. Wasting little to no time, Phoenix grabbed the man by arm and flipped his attacker over his shoulder. Slamming the man into the ground, Andrew watched as the wind was sucked out of him like a vacuum.

With that last contribution to the scenario, the young American was off to find out where those twins went. Clearly the money belonged to whomever owned the joint, but was it the mob that Andrew was looking for? He continued his search and took a left down a long hallway. The elevator seemed to have just closed as it was only a floor or two above him. He saw the other American walking towards the dumbwaiter.
"Hey!" Andrew called out to Clayton."It's a jungle in there now, I guess I'm a little responsible for it." The young man said scratching the back of his had and showing a small "my bad" smile.

Once the elevator reached the top floor, Andrew pressed the button to bring it down. As the number floor it was on decreased, the noise from the other room increased. Andrew wanted to be off this floor by the time the scuffle moved out into the hallways of the building. Once inside the mechanical lift, he began to speak to his fellow American. "So where are you off to? I saw two women escorting a cart full of money this way. You wouldn't know who they were would you?" Andrew asked as the top floor was approaching. The man with him seemed to be opening his mouth to give an answer, but his was cut off. As soon as the doors opened, the ladies stood holding their guns pointed directly at the pair. Andrew looked at the two of them, then back to Clayton. He put his hands in the air as to not blow his cover. "I'm really hoping you two are just gunna show us out." Phoenix said flashing them a collected grin. "Oh we'el show you something." the two of them said in unison.

"I noticed you didn't ask me about how I'm getting into my 'spiritual side' now." A flexing of two fingers per hand signified the significance of the words with no significance. "I know you must be thinking, 'how can this girl with such a moral stance take on multiple religions?' Well, it's none of your goddamn business, and I'll ask you to not pry into my personal life." The slight subtly of her begging the question fell on deaf ears when Clayton excused himself from the table. If he left who would she tell her story to?

"So, why I was at this community college to deal with a disturbance that ended up just being a criminal justice 'class,' so after I took statements the liberal elite jerk told me I failed his 'test' over something or other crime stuff. Whatever." Clayton moved quickly through the flow of people across the floor, prompting Elaine to keep pace to let her story stay within his ear. "Outside of the class were these Buddhist monks in a classroom. They kept talking about legalizing hemp and this one guy kept going on about limited government, so I decided to be a Buddhist." Just like before, the other American insisted on rudely interrupting her to get Clayton's attention. He probably needed Clayton to talk to him for some sort of validation reasons.

"So when I was in Texas, this guy told me Filipinos all talked like gay Mexicans, which got me thinking. And then after I thought I decided to be a Mexican, so now I'm Elaine Angara, Buddhist Mexican. Maybe I should go to Mexico sometime; I've never been." For some reason Clayton led her over to a double set of elevator doors. Just as he and the new guy stepped forward to descend to the lower levels, Elaine cocked her head to overhear a loud voice booming from one of the tables. "I wonder if that guy is gay?" Funneling the voice through her hands, Elaine shouted across the room. "Hey, you sound gay; are you gay?" When an answer didn't present itself, Elaine made her way across the room to ask the man in a more personal manner, leaving Andrew and Clayton to themselves. Elaine assumed for gay stuff.

“Fantastic, Elaine, really, I’m glad you think you’re enlightened and Mexican now, but this is important, so why don’t you tell me all about it after?” He didn’t even bother turning to face her, “I hope that after never comes.” He muttered to himself as he continued forward.
The elevator was quicker than Clayton expected, and so was the talkative American kid. “Tends to happen here. Wouldn’t worry too much about it.” He kept his speech as brief as possible in hopes the kid would take the hint and leave him alone. Why wouldn’t the kid leave him alone? Talkative at the table was one thing, but following him to the elevator was just weird. Could Blackcrown have sent him too? Clayton doubted it. Maybe the guy was just gay or something. Clayton hated thinking that way, but some of the bruises being raised by his father left weren’t physical.

“Twins? Sorry, I didn’t notice them. I’m just looking for—“ The Elevator stopped abruptly and the doors opened in front of him. They were greeted by the twins he was pretending not to follow. He judged by the way they held their weapons ready that they expected him. “—bathroom.” He put his hands up. Suddenly he found himself hoping that after would come afterall.

“Put the guns down, girls. These guests are expected, and overt threats of death or bodily harm are simply bad manners.” A posh voice spoke out from a desk behind the girls. The chair’s back was kept to them, but Clayton caught the man’s reflection in the glass. The wavy blond hair, the dumb chin, the stupid ears, whatever idiots thought passed for good lucks, and the air of arrogant sophistication. It was Blackcrown (as if that wasn’t obvious – Cpt Rinne). He spun his chair around the way all cliché spy villains did, and then offered the two seats at the two of the three empty chairs positioned in front of the desk, the way they all did. The girls never did lower their guns, so Clayton felt compelled to accept. “You know, I must admit, when my Oracle told me to expect trouble tonight, I had my hopes up until she informed me it wouldn’t be more than two yanks and a confused girl Filipino girl. Though it seems the free chips were enough to keep her away, but you cowboys apparently like to think of yourselves as bigger problems.” He paused for a moment. “I’m a fair man, what do you say we settle our differences over brandy, hmm?”

“You make it sound like we have a choice.” Clayton slumped to the side of his chair in an attempt to appear as comfortable as possible, as if to show the limey bastard he refused to be intimidated. At least he thought that was how he looked.

“And here I thought you Americans liked the illusion of choice.”

He filled the three glasses in front of him, “I’m sure I know why you’re here,” he looked to Clayton, “you, however, I don’t believe I’ve ever even heard of. What is it you hope to gain by showing up here?” He pushed one of the glasses to Andrew and waited for a response.

"Shit." The young hero thought as he and the old man were escorted into the office of one ugly son of a bitch.
He did the whole super villain thing and the guns were let down.
Andrew grinned at the man's quip about american's and their illusion of choice.

Taking the glass, Andrew spun it a bit and held it in his hand.
"And here I thought you super villain wanna be's liked the illusion that your monologues held any weight. Guess we all have misconceptions don't we?"

The twins looked at Andrew and one couldn't help but smile. He was a handsome and charming young man, but his identity of the up and coming hero Phoenix wouldn't keep the pretty smile wide he guessed.

So as Andrew looked to Clayton he raised an eyebrow, wondering if he had a move, Andrew had about four of five ideas, however he didn't want to risk getting the man hurt. He had already gotten him in trouble.

That's when he heard Blackcrown let out he knew who Clayton was. Andrew tilted his head and then looked back at the 007 looking villain.
"I'm here for business and personal, and well I tend to keep the personal side of my life just that. However, you should run a tighter ship around here. I mean silly bar fights? Your dealer is clearly rigging the decks...don't think I didn't notice that. Oh. And there's those two beautiful women with freaking guns pointed at us. Somewhere the wheels came off this ride dont'cha think?"

The man laughed at Andrew shrugged.
"Listen. I'm not here to do anything important. I hope to tag a few babes that look like her..." he pointed to the twin on the left who blushed a bit.
"Not like her though..."
The one on the right gritted her teeth.
"Well maybe both at once, you get the point, I'm flexible with situations. Anyway's what's your deal ugly? We're here in your office with...seriously? Swords from the revolutionary war? I'm guessing that's the one Cornwallis didn't have the balls to hand over?" he chuckled pointing at the one above his desk.

"I'm not an idiot, and I really hate being taken for one. Get to the point. You clearly know this guy and you clearly don't know me or what I'm capable of. So open your mouth and get it out."

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.” Blackcrown took a sip from his glass before continuing, “You come gallivanting into my place of business like a special needs chimpanzee and kick up a shit storm on MY casino floor. You follow this thieving snake to my private elevator. You then proceed to throw lewd vulgarities at my assistants, and on top of it all you insult a family heirloom, but I’m the villain here?” He shook his head at Andrew, “Had you caught me outside this state of grieving , I’d have you killed for less.” At that, Blackcrown motioned the Twins closer.  They came to either side of Andrew’s chair and awaited further instruction.  

“Now, there’s no need to be alarmed. As I’ve stated, I’m currently in a state of depression, and death brings me no joy…”

“An imperialist kingpin that thrives on the suffering of others doesn’t take joy in killing? Fuck me. What are you so sad about, anyway? Your hamster die or something.” Clayton finally spoke up, and surprisingly, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease as he did, “Look, Kenny, you’ve put on enough of a spectacle for this sex tourist. I don’t know the kid, you don’t know the kid, so how about you just let him go chase down the waitress, and you and I can settle whatever you think it is we have to settle.”

The British ex-pat paused as if to consider the offer before politely declining, “Well, if you don’t know him, and I don’t know him, perhaps we should get to know him. If he is as interesting as my Oracle suggested, he might be of some use to the two of us once introductions are out of the way.”

“What do you mean us?”

“In a minute, Mr. Wray. Girls.” He snapped his fingers and each of the women placed a hand on Phoenix’s shoulders and closed their eyes, within seconds there was a bright flash above the area in which they stood, and a noise not quite of this earth emanated from the mouths of both of the twins. The sound was like hundreds of voices holding hundreds of conversations at once, and as the conversations continued, they grew louder and louder as energy running through the three bodies shook them all violently. The twins’ hands remained on Andrews shoulders as they shook.

Blackcrown shot a smug grin to Clayton, who gripped the edges of his chair, eyes widened and jaw dropped.

Finally, the noise died down and a glow came from behind the closed eyelids of the Twins.

They spoke in unison, “The boy’s name is Andrew. But in his home, America, he has another name, and a second face. That of the Phoenix”

The couple removed their hands from the Phoenix’s shoulders. Their eyes returned to normal.

“Is that so, Andrew? Do they also call you the Phoenix back home? I didn’t think I was on the radar of people like the Talons.” Blackcrown retained his smile.

“The what?” Clayton chimed in.