|
  |
Jenny and her band of merry folk have been causing trouble throughout Atlantic City. They grew too big to be smart. Eventually their antics have gained the attention of the local police. Jenny, the one who refuses to be the leader of the group, but for some reason seems to plan and orchestrate the gang's moves has finally run out of… well… luck. She couldn't throw discs at the police. She can't erase memories. That would just compound the trouble. So she allowed herself to get brought in. She now stands in a holding cell after she'd been booked and fingerprinted. One of the detectives is actually trying to find her 'parents' as she stands against the bars along as the other denizens of the cell hum about. Junkies, dealers, hookers, all in for some reason or another. jenny is doing her best to keep her luck aura going while trying to think herself out of this mess.
Poor Jenny has been in one cell or another, or in the interrogation room, for almost twenty-four hours. The young woman's luck field certainly plays a part in matters, but there's so much evidence against her, there's a limit to what can be accomplished. She's in the cell of the least dangerous offenders, which is definitely preferable. But she's still behind bars, and facing charges and worse. And soon.
Then one of the police officers comes back, some time around one in the morning. He points at Jenny. "You. Up. Your lawyer is here." Of course, Jenny didn't call a lawyer. But that's what the cop says, and he's not taking no for an answer. "C'mon."
The cell door opens, and she is escorted out, while another closes up the cell behind them. The cop leads Jenny out of the cell and down the hallway, through a door, across a wide open space and through another door. "Sit." he commands, as they step into an interview room. He gestures to one of the only three chairs in the room, beside the small table. Once she is seated, he cuffs her to the table with one hand, and then asks, "You want anything to drink? Your lawyer should be in here in a few minutes."
Jenny just blinks, dumbfounded. Her powers don't work that way. She couldn't just wish a lawyer to come get her out. She knows that Papa couldn't afford a lawyer and he's really the last person that she wanted to see at the moment. She just listens, hoping that the officer was unlucky enough to leave the cuffs loose. She shakes her head at the question, still not sure what to expect. She looks around, anxious to see who would be coming in. Are they a savior, or someone to drag her further into trouble?
"OK. You be good." the cop offers as he departs the room, closing the door behind him. It's about ten minutes later - an agonizing wait, to be sure - when the door opens, and a prim young man walks into the room in a suit with a briefcase in hand. He walks in, closes the door, and take a seat opposite Jenny at the table, laying his briefcase on the table and snapping it open as he regards her.
"Let's get the preliminaries taken care of. This conference is covered by attorney client privilege. Nothing you say here can be divulged to anyone." Given there's no such thing as Miranda warnings yet, a lawyer has to inform a client of this, as many won't know. "I would strongly advise that you answer no further questions from anyone, at any time, unless I am present to counsel you. The choice is yours, but that's my advice."
Then the lawyer extends his hand. "My name is Mark. If you'll allow me, I have been hired to represent you."
Jenny grins to herself when she sees that the lawyer is male. Men are so easy to manipulate. She smiles brightly and flashes her baby-blues at him. "Sure.. I mean, I don't even know why I'm here. I'm totally innocent. It must be one of those 'wrong place, wrong time' kind of things. I'm sure it was all a big mistake." She tries to push her aura but she doesn't have the strength to hold it for long. "I mean, look at me. i don't belong here, obviously."
Mark honestly and genuinely starts to fall under Jenny's sway; she can surely read the signs by now, as his posture loosens, his smile broadens. She has him, and he's ready to believe anything she tells him. He's even taking notes.
And then Mark's green eyes glaze over a bit, going a tad unfocused. His diction sounds a tad off, as he speaks again.
"Pardon me, Miss Stavros. I realize it is a tad unorthodox to hijack your lawyer in the midst of a conference, but that is why I sent him in there, after all."
Mark pulls out two folders from the briefcase, and lays them out on the table in front of Jenny. "Now. We can make sure all of this legal unpleasantness goes away, Miss Stavros. But to provide that favor, there would have to be a benefit to make that investment worth making."
The first folder is labeled "Stavros, Jennifer". It's a reasonably detailed (for 1963) dossier on the young woman in question. Who she is. Who her parents are. Where they've lived. Crimes. Activities. Associates. Etc.
The second is labeled 'Frost Institute"."
Jenny blinks, especially at the word 'hijack'. Then she watches the change in behavior, and realizes that she's not the only one with 'gifts' around. She looks around frantically, looking to find whomever may be controlling the lawyer. Eventually she stops and pours over the first dossier. Information on her father and her siblings. Then information on all her activity with the gang. This is not so simple 'wrong place, wrong time' case. It looks like detectives have been gathering evidence for months. She sighs, and then looks to the lawyer and back to the other dossier.
"Don't bother looking around for me. I am outside, in a car." Mark's voice offers, still in that diction that just doesn't quite fit his mouth.
"That dossier on you is one assembled by detectives in my employ. Almost none of that information is currently available to the police. And, no matter your decision here today, so long as you make no attempt to harm Mark, none of that information will ever find its way to the police." Mark reaches out, picks up the folder with Jenny's name, and puts it back into his briefcase.
The other folder flips open, and it reveals several color brochures advertising the Frost Institute as a new and exceptional school for higher education, an extension of the Massachusetts Academy, inspired and largely funded by Miss Emma Grace Frost, of the Boston Frosts. Also included are papers, including a completed school application in Jenny's name, her school transcript, and papers regarding a 'Meritorious Committee Scholarship'.
"I am prepared to use Mark's skills and my own talents to make sure that you are released, and your record expunged." Quite a big carrot, there. "I will do so, if you will agree to sign the forms in that folder, and come to the Frost Institute." It's a huge offer. A top-flight, top-tier education, gratis. It could change her life.
Jenny listens as she flips through the brochures. She'd like to think that she hit the Luck Jackpot, but even she knows that this has nothing to do with her powers. Well, they're not a direct result thereof. She sighs. "So… my chances are to either get locked up in jail, or get locked up in some fancy boarding school." She runs her free hand through her hair. "What's the catch? I'm not the best student, you can see that. What's in it for you?" She does like the idea of getting out of Jersey, but there's just something that isn't adding up.
"Good, astute question." Mark offers, in that alien diction. "It's not a boarding school. It's a university. But it is a fully residential program, so you will have a place to live, a full meal plan without restrictions, a uniform allowance, a books allowance, and everything else will be covered." It's a really sweet arrangement, to be honest. Most kids her age would kill for something like it.
"What is in it for me is simple. I know about your talents. And I have made clear my own." Mark's hands wave at himself demonstrably. "Amongst others, I am recruiting as many young people with talents as I can manage to find. I want to see them gain excellent educations and contacts, giving them a chance at power and prestige. And I want to see them learn to hone, perfect and strengthen their talents." All true. But there has to be more.
"Hopefully, some of those I help will help me, when I ask. Mutual benefit. And by making sure of their temporal power and access, I assure that more of us are in a position to improve matters for our own kind, out of self-preservation." Because one mutant with power is good. Dozens, hundreds, is much better.
Jenny blinks. "You mean… I'm not the only one?" Yes, Jennifer is the center of her own universe. If she'd ever run into another mutant, she'd probably neither notice nor remember. "I… well… You don't really give a girl much choice." She sighs, looking around. "Where do I sign?" She doesn't even plan on saying goodbye to her friends. As far as they're concerned, it's easier for them if she disappeared. "I don't think there's much that I can do, but I'd like to find out what's possible."
Mark laughs. That is not a young man's laugh. No way.
"No, Miss Stavros. You are not the only one. As if my current display weren't proof enough of that?" Point made?
"I give you plenty of choices. You could probably get off, all on your own, without Mark's help. And you're welcome to do so. As I said, as long as you do not try to harm Mark, none of the intelligence I have on you goes to the police." It's pretty damned generous, honestly.
"But, if you really are willing, then sign the application for the school, and the one for the scholarship. Then hand them to Mark. When that is done, our agreement is made."
And once those documents are signed and handed over, Mark closes them inside his briefcase … and then his eyes uncloud and focus on Jennifer again. "So." The tone is back to his opening statements when he arrived. The puppeteer is gone. "If that's everything you need to tell me, Miss Stavros, then I think I can take care of everything. You'll have to go back to the cell for about an hour or so, while I finish the paperwork. I'll be here to gather you after that, and we can get you headed home." Her new home, apparently.
Jenny nods after signing and sliding them over. She couldn't hurt Mark. She's never been violent, and there's no amusement in turning someone against him. Her own self-preservation kicks in as she thinks of what this new decision means. She knows there's going to be a catch, but is it something she can deal with? One never knows. The officer walks back in, uncuffing Jenny from the chair and leading her back to the cell for now.
The wait is no fun, of course. But soon enough, as promised, the cops show up to escort Jennifer out of the cell. She is escorted into Mark's custody, and will sign papers, with Mark to countersign, which indicate that she is being released, her record expunged, and it will be as if this arrest had never happened. It's about another hour of paperwork.
After that is over, Mark escorts Jenny out of the police station, and walks towards a long white stretch limo. A white-liveried gentleman opens the rear door, and Mark motions for Jenny to slide in. Inside, there sits a gorgeously turned out platinum blonde who looks like the billion bucks she is.
"Good morning, Miss Stavros." The honeyed tones are hers. The diction matches what she heard from Mark while he was channeling the puppeteer. "I trust you can guess what my name is, without a name tag. Get comfortable. We'll drive straight through to the East Village, unless you have an objection. I believe you will find that sack beside you contains your preferred meal. Do try not to get anything on the seat or the carpet, will you? I thought it best to see you were fed, even if I cannot myself stand such food."
And so it begins.