A Setup Gone Wrong

"They're late..." The tone in those two singular words spoke volumes to Jayana's displeasure. Arms crossed beneath one another, left foot pressing well worn boot against the shipping crate behind her. It wasn't that the leader of The Phantoms had anywhere to be. It was the principle of the matter. This was a deal, a sensitive one at that. The police had been riding her as of late, ever since the mysterious toppling of her gang's rival on the other side of town. More than a dozen murders had been committed in just under twenty four hours. Police tended to take notice to that kind of crime. Still, it was business, business that needed doing. The kingpins of that regime, and all of their lieutenants had been reduced to little more than the memories of what once was. Now, their supplier needed a new distributor. Jayana was eying to become that very distributor. Already she controlled the vast majority of the supply in town,  this deal however would secure those small pockets that eluded her grasp.

Riker glanced to the pier where half a dozen ships had docked for the evening, their cargo within the shipping containers either awaiting offloading, or to be transported via crane onto the massive freighters. Beneath the veil of the crescent moon, a soft glow of white illuminated much of the area, though behind the shadows of the containers Jayana and her crew remained but ghastly shapes within the darkness. The police tended to avoid the area if possible, knowing well the turf wars that would often break out. Their position was one of letting the gangs fight it out and clean up the mess after. It was just easier that way. "Only by five minutes." Riker had far more patience than Jayana, that was partially why the man was her second in command. The burly man was the opposite face to her coin. The two balanced one another. "I don't like it." Call her paranoid, but when plans didn't go according to the vision, the woman became weary.

Snakes can't be trusted. The voice carried itself through her mind, serpent-like in its own right, making Jayana's eye twitch momentarily before a quick shake of the head drew back her attention. They couldn't possibly be so stupid as to betray their word when so much money was on the line. It made no strategic sense, business or otherwise. "There" the man said, pointing towards a pair of blacked out SUVs slowly entering the lot, lights all but off, save for the daytime running lights. The vehicles stopped about a hundred feet away, engines still running. Three doors then opened in the forward vehicle, front and rear passenger doors. Four figures, their features indistinguishable from anything but silhouettes stepped out. One appeared to be holding what resembled a large dufflebag. "Something's not right. Be ready to move if this goes sideways." If she had learned anything from her time on the streets, it was to always listen to your gut. If something was off, it was off. A moment of silence would pass between her words and action. Wandering towards the gathered figures by the SUV her voice called to those waiting. "You're late." The doppelganger of herself stated plainly, stopping just mere feet away from the others. From beside the shipping containers, Jayana observed carefully. The power of illusion had a great many applications, ensuring ones own survival by appearing to be something she wasn't was a decent insurance plan. "Good things come at the cost of time, and blood. Your blood, I'm afraid." It seemed The Phantom's elimination of their rivals had repercussions that stretched even further than the young woman had calculated, though hardly underestimated. Guns were drawn and subsequently fired into the incorporeal illusion, passing harmlessly through the body of the being and into the belly of one of the docked ships, as well as several shipping containers in the vicinity.

"We're outnumbered, and outgunned. We'll deal with them later. Regroup at the warehouse." Jayana's voice hinted at annoyance, though whether that was to the lost venture, or the pride of falling back was to be seen. With a waive of her hand the illusion dispersed, vaporizing into the air as if it were never truly there. Confused and astounded by what they saw, the gun toting thugs quickly jumped back into their SUV, both vehicles immediately accelerating hard towards the streets in an effort to escape. They hadn't killed her and they knew it. But they sure as hell hadn't expected what they saw, either...Something inhuman.

Those with her, including Riker knew the score, when things went poorly, everyone went their separate ways. While the others broke in different directions, Giselle tucked her hands into her pockets, lifted the hood of her coat, and began a quiet walk down the pier where lights illuminated off of rides, food vendor signs, and still several hundred people enjoyed themselves. If it weren't for the music, clanking and bonking of the many game machines and chatter of tourists alike, the gunshots might have raised some suspicion, carrying through what would otherwise be a quiet evening.

Perhaps the ambient noise had masked the need for would-be do-gooders to snoop around...

The stench was something Cebra could deal with in a professional manor, but it would have been nice to know earlier. On the roof of an apartment maybe six hundred yards away Cebra looked down towards the docks through a sniper scope observing the movement of the individuals below. He leaned back and took a deep haul from the cigarette between his lips and adjusted the scope a bit. It wasn't a task he had planned to do and frankly it was pissing him off to even be there at the mercy of a corrupt cop. The idea of assasination was perfectly fine Cebra knew that someone had to do the dirty work others were too good for. Being a tool however was... deeply disturbing. Furthermore it was a bloody stinking human meat sack that had him by the balls.

He checked the scope again looking to the docks. He could see very little in the dark which made him question why he chose do use a sniper in the first place. Well for the purposes of remaining anonymous and staying out of whatever gangland war was going on he decided it was for the best. There was no need to come to a new city and make new enemies before he dealt with the current ones hunting him like a dog. He took the last inhale of the cigarette before throwing it down and letting out a large cloud of smoke. The fortunate thing about being a cyborg was being able to abuse your body with any substance and have it repair itself. Cebra in all his days had never let out so much as a cough even though he spent a small fortune on cigs.

Cebra had been forced via blackmail to execute a certain target that was becoming trouble on this side of town. Some gang leader quickly gaining power in the city and offing old kingpins like nothing. Cebra had enough gangs to deal with in his territory, this was going to be a pain in the ass but what else could he do? Just then he saw a vehicle pull up at the docks and focused in. Four men stepped out of an SUV holding a duffle bag, Cebra waited until he could clearly make out who was going to go receive that bag. A moment later a young woman stepped forward, possibly the target Cebra was looking for, had to be. Cebra steadied his breath and took aim right at her heart. But something happened that he hadn't counted on, the four figures opened fire on the woman. Cebra merely watched in intrigue at this only to be shocked a moment later when the woman was undamaged. Even more shocking was when she vanished into thin air.

Cebra now had a sneaking suspicion he was dealing with someone that had unique inhuman abilities... This just got interesting. After the SUV with the assassins drove off Cebra melted the gun with a surge of energy and hopped down off the roof landing in an alley. He hit the streets moving in the direction of the docks. As he closed in out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman stealthily making her escape from the area. Rather than put peoples lives in danger he pursued her covertly making sure to keep his distance but not lose sight. This may come down to him having to confront her face to face. He was always wary of encountering people with special powers, he knew how things could get very ugly very fast. In the right inside pocket of his black long coat he held a dagger just in case the opportunity presented itself.

Cebra

Index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of her nose, gently rubbing as she meandered through the throng of people gathered at the center of the boardwalk. The dense population of tourists enjoying the entertainment made for a perfect place to avoid detection, yet came with it a unique set of disturbances, noise. Loud enough to drown out her own thoughts, the rapid succession of arcades, the countless echo of voices speaking over one another to be heard, the banter of spruikers, and the laughter of adolescent teenagers as they jaunted through the attractions was enough to give the woman a mild headache. The night was mild, perhaps thankfully so, given that her choice to obscure herself via the hooded jacket may otherwise come across as peculiar. Stopping but for a moment at a small cart vendor, Jayana placed down a pair of bills, enough to buy a bottle of water and leave a small tip.

Intending to linger within the perimeter of the boardwalk for the next thirty minutes on the off chance that those in the SUVs had stuck around to try and finish the job, Jayana moseyed over towards the water's edge, just beside the large ferris wheel. Deep azure eyes glanced upwards at the riders as the massive machine stopped, stranding those at the top in place. It made her stomach turn just looking at. How does anybody get any joy in being suspended a hundred feet in the air? Looking up from the ground was more than enough for her to avert her eyes from the scene. Instead she sat several yards away, her back leaned against a small wooden pillar, one leg dangling off the edge of the wooden pier, the other bent at the knee, hands resting in her lap. Her long black hair remained tied back in a tight ponytail. In fact, her features were oddly well cared for, for someone in her particular line of work. Her makeup sported a deep maroon lipstick with a single bar that ran to her chin whilst her face from cheek to cheek at the bridge of her nose was obscured in black, with two angled streaks on either side protruding downwards towards her cheek. It was something of a signature look, one that certainly raised an eye or two from the arguably ordinary person.

Cebra's pursuit of her had gone largely unnoticed thus far, though from where she sat, the only means of approach would be from the single path that stretched out from the boardwalk, or by somehow climbing up the massive wooden support beams that stretched down into the waters below. It wasn't as though she had any cause for alarm, given the sheer number of people in the vicinity. Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling free a small electronic device, ancient, some might consider. A clamshell phone. No fancy screen, no wonderful apps or Internet, just a plain screen with a pickup and hangup button, as well as the standard touch-tone keys. Quietly she scrolled through her contacts, hovering over the one she was searching for. Her thumb pressed down against the call button, and after a short pause it began to ring. The voice of Riker answered nearly immediately. "Go ahead." Her voice was hushed, barely above a whisper. "Safe. Clear. No sign. You?" Several moments of silence lingered between the two. "Same. Lay low. Out." Their conversations were always brief, no telling who was trying to listen in, and therefore only what was absolutely necessary to speak was relayed that way. It was also part of why she carried such a dated device in the first place, not because she had any kind of aversion to technology.

Air filled her lungs, a deep sigh exhaling as she turned her attention towards the horizon on the ocean. Darkness stretched for miles beyond her vision, yet the tide continued to roll, gently splashing as it collided with the beach below. Involuntarily and almost without noticing her leg began to bounce as it rested on the platform. How long had she gone without a fix? A day and a half? That was pushing it. Things had not gone according to plan this evening, and it seemed her body was eager to derive pleasure through other means.

People people people everywhere thought Cebra as he closed in on his target. The noise would certainly help mask the sound of a silenced pistol firing but there was little chance someone wouldn't see him firing even concealed. This task was quickly becoming aggravating to say the least, not to mention he had no real ill feelings to his target. Assassinations were usually a sadistic pleasure Cebra took in silencing those who would cross him or his friends. This woman didn't even know Cebra existed and might die because of him, it felt cold and pointless. He would rather peel the skin off of the SOB that was forcing him to do this. But when a cop has physical evidence proving Cebra murdered a senator in cold blood well that could start an international manhunt.

Cebra closed in as close as he could get to her while trying to be inconspicuous playing with the handle of his dagger inside his coat. He forcibly pushed out the unpleasant thoughts of what he had to do. There was no way to get her alone right now, maybe he could plant a remote explosive? No still a chance he'd get other people killed and he also hadn't determined how her abilities work. He could try and kill her then end up having her vanish again dropping the element of surprise... He got it! Cebra melted off a small piece of his dagger and molded it into a proximity detector. He'd track her down once she was alone but the question was how to plant it.

The only thing he could think of at the moment was possibly the most ridiculous, dumb ass idea he had in ages. He took a flask out of another pocket in his jacket and took a swig then dabbed some all over his body to make it seem like he was drunken. Feigning a clumsy, staggering walk he heads over to the woman and starts what must be the worst pick up effort in human history.

"Uhhh ohh hey there sweet stuff eheh whatchu doin alone all the way out here?"

He puts the tiny device on her back masking the placement as a clumsy move.

"You look lonely by yourself."

Lucifer Hermes Mercury also known, to only a select few, was also the illusive and practically mythological leader of the Crime Syndicate. The Phantom. A man talked about in hushed whispers within the criminal underworld. The ghostly figure behind the curtain, pulling the strings of every criminal organization, the person criminals tell stories about to keep each other in check. Or that if they ever got too big or thought themselves better than the Syndicate he would swoop in and swallow them up. The group, or person, would either cease to exist or be integrated into the Crime Syndicate. The bedtime stories that parents tell their kids, to be good or The Phantom will swoop in and take their things. In truth? He was all of these things, except the part about the kids, and so much more.

He was a man of sophistication and class. A criminal mastermind who organized almost everything to fall in his favor. He had eyes and ears everywhere, in almost every corner of the world. Almost nothing happened without his little birds hearing about it, and if something did happen and he didn’t know you could be sure he’d learn about it eventually. So, when word reached him about a rising gang in Los Angeles that was messing things up, stirring up trouble and generally being an overall annoyance. Well he took an interest in it. A personal one once he found out the name they were calling themselves. A small part of him actually felt a little bit prideful and amused. A group that called themselves The Phantoms led by a mysterious leader who called herself Phantom? Why it was almost a group after his own heart. Almost.

They were good at what they did but for the most part? They were sloppy. Unnecessary violence, disrupted the established order with other groups and even dared to taunt the police. He had originally considered meeting with their young leader face to face. To let her remember just who it was she was dealing with and give her an ultimatum. Shape up and start doing things right, dissolve and join the Phantoms, or be wiped out. After her handling of a subgroup of the Crime Syndicate that Lucifer had positioned to take up residence in the Las Angeles area he had decided the first solution was never going to happen. The men leaderless, momentarily, and without the guidance of the Syndicate reacted to the violence with unnecessary violence and attempted to take her out through a façade of a trade. Obviously, it didn’t work. This of course being why he himself was now wandering the Pier, invisibly following the girl.

Doing so in hopes of finding her alone, or at least within the reaches of only one or two other individuals. No need for the entire pier to remember who he was, even if it would only be long enough for him to talk to her. No, that would still be just long enough for someone to do something stupid and he absolutely despised stupidity. Interestingly enough though while following her the leader of the Crime Syndicate took notice of another individual on quite the same goal he himself was. Said individual looked to be unremarkable, save for the black eyes (indicating he was not normal, as those were no contacts), pulled out a flask and took a swig before dousing himself with it and approaching his ‘target’. An interesting approach and the act put on was quite good he had to admit. A quick scan and search through his contacts identified the man. The placement of the device might even have gone unnoticed by most individuals.

Lucifer Hermes Mercury was not most individuals. Striding up to the two silently a dashing smile on his face as his form shimmered into existence. Upon his form appearing to the left of the two his ‘Forget Me’ ability would drop. All memories of the man before them would start to rush forwards into their mind at different speeds. Any crimes he had committed that they had heard on the news that were credited to someone else, the truth that he was the true leader of the Crime Syndicate, or even any meetings or passing they had had with him themselves. The looks on people’s faces upon realizing who it was they were dealing with was something the man always enjoyed. “A fine night, is it not Miss Rengam and Mister Ulkenne?”

Vibrant azure orbs raised from the woman's own self reflection to the strange, oddly drunken man approaching her with a notable stumble. A single brow raised slightly higher than the other, jaw partially agape as she studied the rather foul smelling person. He was quite literally dripping with alcohol, clothes soaked in the pungent scent. It was repulsive to look at, let alone inhale. What confused her further however wasn't the man's drunkenness, but the question he proceeded to pose her. All the way out here? There was a visible recoil of discomfort shown in both her expression, and sudden shift away as an incredibly unwelcome touch brushed across her back. A scowl set upon her, barely resisting the urge to assault the man in response to his trespass. "All the way out here? Have you looked around? There are hundreds of people here. It's a pretty popular place." The insinuation that she seemed in any way lonely and in need of his company, the company of a drunk no less, was simply appalling to think about. "I'm quite fine, thank you." The dark haired woman adjusted her jacket with a few harsh tugs. As she did so, despite her unawareness, the device planted on her back slipped free, tumbling in a free fall into the water beneath the pier.

Before Jayana had the opportunity to shoo the man away properly, yet another felt the desire to disturb her. This man however, was finely dressed, had a chiseled jaw, an air about him that exuded not authority, but respect. He carried himself with purpose, dignity, and strength. Still sitting, one leg dangling from the edge of the pier she was at a distinct disadvantage to both strangers, though she made no attempt to stand or shake hands, this wasn't some social gathering after all. It wasn't until the man spoke her birthname that a cold shiver crawled up her spine, setting the tiny hairs on the back of her standing tall. One might even notice the visible twitch in her eye from beneath the hooded jacket. That would be her only tell, should the man have caught it. Teeth sank into her lower lip, near enough to draw blood, though gentle enough to go unnoticed.

The woman's right hand, lingering below the deck of the pier by where her leg had swung, made a small gesture, thereby materializing an ethereal blade the size of a short sword, roughly fifteen inches long. She held the blade beneath cover, weary that she might very well need to use it. That, or go for an unintentional swim. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mister..." She lingered, anticipating a reply. It was clear the man knew who she was, and Giselle wasn't the type to play stupid in someone else's game. The mere fact that he knew who she was meant that she was likely in grave danger where she sat.

She promptly threw Cebra's purposely half ass advances aside as he thought, but the objective was met... or so he thought. The device had slid off her coat not being planted properly and he would not get another chance. This might be it he thought, might have to just strike here and now in front of everyone. Before he could even make a move something happened he could not have predicted with the most sophisticated programming. A dapper man clothed in some fine threads managed to stealthily move up to the two on the boardwalk. What he said next froze Cebra in place, not from fear but a lack of proper response. He new Cebra's name, his real name, he didn't even address him as The blacksmith. This could not end well.

Cebra said nothing at first keeping his back turned and face hidden, the drunk stumbling stopped as he stood still as a statue. Cebra looked around noting all sources of ferrous metal and identifying tactically advantageous positions. If need be he would strike quickly without warning or mercy. This had all spun out of hand quickly and could get worse, it was likely this person had some abilities too if he could sneak up on Cebra. Cebra being well trained to detect conventional means of stealth knew this.

Cebra quickly made the decision to cast off the rum soaked coat and turned back to face the woman that man called "Miss Rengam" and the man himself. Cebra's eyes flashed and turned red like the activating of a machine as he stared unblinkingly between the two. He changed from being a passable human to clearly something else, a hostile machine entity.

"And who are you to know of me?"

His voice changing to a smoother yet cold tone.

Neither knew who he was? These two needed to watch the news a bit more, or the ‘mist’ over their ‘eyes’ was taking longer to wear off than it usually did. Lucifer always loved it when he was presented with a new response, a new source of information. He truly hoped though that these two did not know who he was at all. In the case of the young lady as it would mean that the name for her and her organization was not in fact named after his own title. In reality, it more than likely was not but Lucifer was a sentimental man, or so he claimed. For the other man because well what was the point in being the world’s greatest feat, and getting away with all of it, if when you allowed the world to remember they didn’t even know you.

However, he was a benevolent man when he so chose to be. Class and style before brutality as he always said. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mercury, Lucifer Mercury, but you can of course call me The Phantom.” He introduced himself with a tip of his hat, a glint in his eye. He was relishing this moment. Sure, Mister Ulkenne had threw a sort of wrench into his plan but that was nothing the crime lord wasn’t used to, and he of course had planned for some of Miss Rengam’s men to be here anyway. The fact that it was instead an unknown quantity instead of a simple thug changed little in the grand scheme of things. If the man attempted to try something rash he could be dealt with, the individual was of no consequence to Lucifer. At the moment, at least.

“Wonderful trick you have there with the eyes Mister Ulkene, you’ll have to teach me that sometime.” He said, making sure the man knew that it had been noticed. Even if Lucifer didn’t know exactly what it was the man could do a change of eye colors was usually not just for show. “As for how it is I know who you two are I believe by now it should be obvious, which is exactly why I am here Miss Rengam.” His attention not truly only focused on her but this next part at least directed at the other ‘phantom’. His hands resting across his chest. “You and your wonderful little group have been making quite a mess of Las Angeles, and its been oh so counterproductive to my own interests here.”

The leader of the Crime Syndicate took a pause here, letting it slowly slink in just in case she didn’t understand him at first. “I usually don’t show up personally for these kinds of things but I simply couldn’t resist what with the name and all.” His hand slowly resting down on the tip of his rapier as he continued speaking. “So, I’ve come to give you an ultimatum. Terrible things I know but your last outing has left me with no choice. Either join the Crime Syndicate or your little gang will be wiped out. I’ll give you some time to think of course, but I do expect an answer within a timely manner. Call up your second in command if you want his opinion even.” and there it was.

The scowl on her face deepened, first when glancing toward the initial disruption now known to her as Ulkene, then doubly so when she discovered the deceptive game he had been playing. The drunkenness, the role, the appearance, it was all a visage. To what end though? Had he intended to kill her? For what purpose? She hadn't garnered the greatest glance at those that stepped out of the SUV several minutes ago, but he didn't seem to be one of them. Some vigilante perchance? Out to rid the city of LA of one of the upper echelons of drugs trafficking? That seemed a rather hopeless endeavor in the grand scheme of things. Even if she were out of the picture, more would take her place, perhaps not quite as elegant as her in terms of appearance, but all the same, more would rise up. Fortunately for Jayana, it seemed the two men were also unacquainted, though the more the woman studied the rather posh looking man's features, the more she began to jog her memory. This wasn't some small time thug out looking for a thrill, this man was the kingpin of the Crime Syndicate. The biggest wig in the underground and black market not just in LA or the USA, but the entire world.

In an almost comical fashion it seemed The Phantom had met The Phantom. What exactly were the odds in that? Jayana hadn't been the one to coin her title, despite him possibly considering her to be some copycat after reputation. That came from her unique metahuman abilities, gifts some would call them. What wasn't comical however, was his insinuation that she had been responsible for the deaths of his men. In a manner of technicality that assumption was true enough. She had been the one who murdered the lot, though for reasons she would elaborate on. It wasn't the insinuation of her activities that spurred the spark of anger within her so much as his words that subsequently followed. Presenting the woman with some sort of ultimatum, as if she were a toddler to be punished for poor behavior, yet bold enough to disguise it as some sort of backhanded offering, a kind gesture even.  Seated at the edge of the pier, her expression as cold as the water beneath the boardwalk, the woman gripped the hilt of the incorporeal blade. The more the three exchanged words the more she believed it necessary to have at the ready.

"Your men would still be alive, had they not started this war." Defiant blue eyes glanced briefly towards Lucifer's hand resting just atop a blade of his own. "They chose their fate the moment they decided to murder a woman whose only crime was being the person dearest to me." Jayana pulled back the hood of her jacket with her free hand, lifting her head towards the two men, eyes narrowed in indignant disgust. "And yet you personally track me down only to lay a threat at my feet after what your people were entirely responsible for?" The woman shook her head slowly. "You can't threaten a person with nothing left to lose Lucifer." An ever so subtle smirk darted across her lips, small dimples on either side of her cheeks appearing. "So if that's your offer, you may consider it declined."

By now Giselle had deduced that Ulkene had been there to murder her as well. The shift in demeanor, his sudden disappearing drunken act, the curious shift in his eyes, the way in which he spoke. She had the what, what she needed was the why. It was obvious he wasn't a member of the Crime Syndicate that Lucifer headed, he certainly wasn't a cop, and she didn't believe he was one of the distributors in the black SUVs that had attempted to kill her earlier. So what exactly his purpose was behind his sudden appearance eluded her still. It did appear that time was drying up for the mystery to be solved, the woman half expected either one to turn on the other, or her at any moment. How would he respond to her argument? Her decline of his 'invitation', and what would Ulkene do, now that he seemed presented with two potential targets? One fish was certainly the larger fry, not even the woman's own ego could debate that.

Cebra was ready to strike on a hair trigger however this conversation was too interesting to stop right away. Cebra would rather listen and gather information before making a move, especially if he could somehow avoid fighting two powerful people at the same time. Regardless of the fact he was made to be a weapon capable of combat at many levels personally he found violence to be so crude. From the way the gentleman Lucifer went on he gathered that he was the mythical figure some of the mobsters Cebra had dealt with spoke of. It was strange this fact didn't click until now, Cebra would have to run a systems diagnostic when he got home.

Cebra listened to Lucifers offer to Rengam, this did not bode well... or did it? His ultimatum put Cebra in a tough spot at first. If she agreed Cebra would have to take them both on which seemed likely to end badly for him, but if she turned him down. To Cebra's relief she spurned his offer and even seemed offended by it, now maybe he could convince the man to turn away and leave her to Cebra Better yet maybe he would help him. Fighting fairly was for sporting events and games, this was no game. Cebra just wanted to do this and leave before he felt any more disgusting and shameful for what he had to do.

"Lucifer correct?... How about I make you an offer instead? If she is a problem for you then why not just leave? Turn away and keep your well manicured hands clean. I have business with this woman, the result should leave us both satisfied."

Cebra's gaze turned to the woman, a cold empty expression.

"I'm sorry, this isn't personal but I am going to kill you... Then again I guess you have deduced that by now. I was told you were sharper than the common gangster. I doubt this will bring you any solace but I take no pleasure in what I have to do, in fact I hate it. But that's life isn't it?"