2011 09 28 Family Ties

Log Title:
Family Ties

Characters:
Black Tom and Siryn

IC Date:
09-28-11

Location:
The Bar With No Name

Brief log summary::
Black Tom asks Siryn to help him rescue Juggernaut from prison.

Rating:
pg13

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
An 'invitation' was sent via post to the home of Charles Xavier and addressed to Theresa Rourke. A 5x7 ecru envelope written upon in stylized pen. Inside, a simple folding ecru card opens to reveal the words, "We should meet. You know the bar. - Tom"

As she arrives back at the No Name, Theresa pauses outside to look down at the simple card. She shoves it into her pocket before stepping inside and walking up to the bar, green eyes narrowed and looking about warily. Last thing she needs is to get jumped walking in. She's dressed appropriately enough — a pair of scuffed blue jeans and a black leather jacket that's seen better days. Her red hair is caught up somewhat messily in an alligator clip.

The bar is filled with the norm; countless criminals trying to escape the heroic eye yet wearing their costumes as if they're on parade. It's unlikely the fear a hero busting into the bar due to their numbers.

The arrival of Terry only brings a few letcherous leers, a few wolf whistles, and some guy commenting to one another under their breath.

Scanning the bar, Terry will take note of a few familiar faces as those from the last time she was here as well as super villains she's seen on tv or in the paper.

There are many shadows in the bar, and most of the tables along the wall have occupants bathed in the shadows. One such occupant seems to want to garner her attention as he pulls the dangling lamp a little toward himself with a walking cain. It illuminates his face, a very familiar face to Terry, the face of Black Tom Cassidy.

If she approaches, he'll move from the table to stand and welcome her with open arms.

Terry pauses near the bar, her eyes skimming the usual suspects. The sight of her uncle brings a pang to her heart. She walks toward his table and wraps both arms around him tightly. Blinking away tears that rush to her eyes, she's silent as she holds him. Her emotions and thoughts of him are always conflicted, but … in the end, he's the man who raised her. "It's good t' see ye," she murmurs softly, pulling out of the hug to look at him. Take in the changes since she saw him last.

Tom is presently dressed in a dark business suit of an irish style/cut (more European than American). He smells of Irish Spring and likely has a 4 leaf clover in his pocket. His hug is warm in return and he says, "Likewise, lass. I've been missing the days when we would sit on the stoop and watch the clouds while we counted our gold."

When she breaks the embrace, he looks down to her and smiles, his eyes take in how she's changed over the years and he comments, "Cain wasn kiddin, y've changed a fair bit. A right prop'r young lass."

"Ffft," Terry dismisses. "No such thing, uncle." She smiles and slips into the booth. "Ye tried to raise me proper, but it just didn' take," she laughs. A glance toward the bar then back to her uncle brings a raised brow. "Ye goin' to buy a girl a drink?"

Joining her in the booth, Tom is all smiles even when the query of buying her a drink comes around, "Of course lassie…" then he snaps his fingers and orders scotch for the both of them along with the bottle. Before the drinks arrive he asks, "I'm told you're hanging out with Sean's old team. They treating you well?"

When the drinks arrive, he'll take the bottle and pour for them both, as the uncle should.

"They're treatin' me just fine, thanks." Theresa waits for him to pour the drinks and then takes hers to sip from it. "Now uncle… If I were a bettin' lass, I'd bet that ye didn' want to see me just for me smile. What's on your mind?" she asks mildly.

With a considering look, Tom is proud that the girl he raised can read him like a book. It says she learned something from him. The question eventually brings a grim look and he says, "Well Theresa… I'm in need of your help." He reaches under the table and pulls out Juggernaut's helmet then placing it heavily on the table, "Seems Cain's gotten himself in a pickle and it's gonna take the both of us to get him out."

Terry's head comes up and her eyes look both wary and a little alarmed. "What kinda trouble?" she demands, her hands holding the scotch tightly. The kind of trouble that could hold onto Cain Marko is BAD. With a capital BAD.

"The coppers, they pinched him good. Got him held over on Rikers till tomorrow when a transport is shipping him off to the Vault for permanent lockup." Tom explains and gives details and he's got a plan working behind those eyes of his.

"Bloody hell," Terry murmurs, closing her eyes. "Uncle…. I can't help ye bust him out of Riker's. Not if I'm stayin' where I am." She downs the entire contents of her glass, the back of her hand to her lips as she swallows. And then she opens her eyes to look at him. "He knows he's wanted. And he knows better'n to be showin' off."

"Easy there lass. We're not bustin him outta Rikers. We're gonna hit the transport. You don't have to tell your new friends about what's going on. Heck, you don't even have to wear that flashy green and yellow costume. I just need your powers. Not necessarily your ID."

"An' ye don' think use of a sonic ability on th' transport's not goin' t' send every red flag in upstate New York flyin'?" Terry demanded. "There ain't many out there who can *do* what I do, Uncle."

"If you don't help, Cain's going down the river for a long, long time. He might be a jerk, I'll be the first to admit that. But he's useful to have around. Plus, you know he'll owe you big time if we save him. It's always nice to have a Juggernaut in your back pocket." Tom connives.

Theresa refilled her glass with a healthy dollop of the scotch as she considered. Having a Juggernaut in her back pocket might someday prove *real* useful if the X-Men ever had to face the man. Or if something needed doing that required no finesse at all. Cain was a bull in a china shop. Besides…. he was a jerk and a supervillain, but he'd been good to her. And he'd let her get Alex out of here without making a thing of it. "All right," she finally acquiesced with a sigh. "Tell me how yer plannin' on doin' this and I'll decide how best I can help."

Tom smiles, he pours another round and says, "That's my girl." and will drink and start laying out the plan.

The Juggernaut will be transferred from Rikers to the Vault via heavy air transport. It leaves tomorrow morning at 6am straight from Rikers. The Vault's location is still unknown to the general populace and the transport will have to be hit quickly before it gains too much speed and or gets out of range because it's not clear where it will be flying to.

Siryn's job is to carry Black Tom through the air, intercept the transport and blast their way in. It's expected that there will be fighter escort, to the faster the better, and Tom intends to take down the aircraft from the inside. Also allowing the pilot and crew time to parachute out.

Crashing, the transport will then free the Juggernaut to run away and fight another day.

Theresa drinks the scotch, savoring the burn. She listens to the plan and then nods slowly. The plan is not calling for killing the crew or the escort planes. That she can live with. "All right." She'll need to make sure her hair's not visible, but she's pretty sure she can get the pieces and parts for a costume. "Ye swear to me, uncle, no one's dyin' in this. And ye be damn sure ye get th' hell out yerself." She doesn't want to have to come in after him too.

"I've made arrangements with a few locals that will ensure our haisty escape. You needent worry about that." Tom's likely made a deal with a local mobster that requires the Juggernaut's talents. Therefore Tom needs Cain out of jail. Ultimately this will lead to a proposed big pay-off for Tom so that's his motivation. Something Terry can easily guess.

Shaking her head, Terry swallows more of her drink. "All right. I'll meet ye in th' morning, uncle," she sighs. "Jaysus. Don't be makin' a habit o' this, will ye?"

Tom winks with a half grin. He's already counting his money. "You bet, Lass."

An address is given, location and time, giving Terry enough time go get him, pick out her CIA Black garb, and then catch a few zzzzzzs.

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