Broker

Interlude: The Deal

A few months before the incident in The Hague, Charon leaned back on his couch in the private box overlooking his club. He slipped a cigar into his mouth and lit it with a black flame from his fingertip, he took a drag and exhaled, his graying skin vanishing behind the cloud for a moment as he leaned forward. He ran his fingers along the small pile of blue coins sitting on the table in front of them. Each and every one of them had a flexible value based on the the overall value of the new underworld market that he had built. Apparently it was some kind of trick that Ishtar and Mephisto cooked up with their contracts, he didn’t quite get it, nor did he care. They more than served their purpose.

He rubbed one between his fingers as he glanced out at the open area of the club. Men and women, villains of all races and backgrounds were here, coming from across the globe to do business with the Ferryman, the great middleman himself. He snorted and twirled his cane between his fingers. He watched a couple newcomers walk over to the bar and felt the faint trigger of his puppet standing there react and go through its usual pre-programmed motions, simple conversation topics. He didn’t have to split his attention as long as they kept it straight forward. Even so, it was fun to listen in.

He smirked and cast a bit of his mind into the puppet, listening in for a few minutes before immediately becoming bored and pulling back out. Another far more interesting flicker in his mind drew his attention and he shifted his perspective, looking through the eyes of the guard standing at the VIP entrance. A slight figure in a black coat, black skirt and black pantyhose strutted down the hall and out of the guard’s vision. He sat up in his seat even more and sent a few orders for refreshments.

In a matter of minutes a small spread of simple snacks was set on his table as well as a noxiously alcoholic drink for himself and a colorful drink in a tall glass filled with bubbles for his pretty guest. He relaxed and straightened his embroidered jacket before getting to his feet and turning with a smooth motion, a practiced wicked smile on his face joined a conductor’s bow, the skull on his cane pointed out, “Mephisto, gorgeous as ever. Welcome to the Styx.”

A pair of glowing red eyes were the first things he saw as the brown haired man stepped out. A pretty slightly-pale face adorned with mascara and lipstick smiled at him ruefully and raised a perfect eyebrow, “All this set out for little old me?” The effeminate villain asked, sweeping forward and holding out a hand. Charon took it and put a kiss on the knuckle of Ishtar’s Dealmaker, “You’re too kind. Technocrat might get jealous,” The devilish creature said with his usual half-purr before his eyes flashed dangerously. “Not wise.”

Charon pulled his hand away and stood up straight, “You’re right, of course, I wouldn’t dream of pissing that guy off!” He chuckled, “Had your favorite drink made, at least.”

Mephisto snorted and walked past him, picking up the colorful drink and taking a sip. He let out a delighted half-sigh half-squeal of delight and slipped into a comfortable chair to the right of Charon’s couch. “A Wildebeest, now I know you want something!” Mephisto tittered out a laugh and crossed his legs languidly. “Okay, I’ll bite, what was so big that you needed me to come personally? I’m a busy man. You have endorsed contracts, don’t you? You’re not out already are you?”

Charon held up his hands as he sat down, “Nothing like that, I promise,” He said with a nervous grin, “I got someone wanting to come make a deal, a big name, but not a member of the New Underworld yet,” He added quickly, “Masque of the Darksiders needs gear, he says he has something big planned.”

Mephisto stopped half way through a sip and looked his way, “Masque? Coming here? Today?”

Charon grinned at him, “Yeaaaah,” He chuckled, “Figured you’d like to sit in.”

Mephisto took a long sip from his drink and set it down, settling into the comfortable chair, “Why Charon, it isn’t even my birthday,” The dealmaker said with a dark smile.

It wasn’t long after that when the man of the hour arrived. He came in through the front door like all the newcomers with a half dozen of his masked thugs surrounding him. Charon peeked through the perspective of his bartender as the masked man approached, his white mask with that twisted smile giving off a strange heat to it. He assumed full control of the bartender and set the glass it was cleaning down, “Masque?” He asked through the bartender.

“Yeah,” Masque said gravely, stopping at the counter and leaning on it. He was huge and way more fit than the goons around him. “Where’s your boss?”

He smirked a little through the puppet as a rumble of laughter passed through the patrons of the Styx, many of them glancing the Supervillain’s way. Masque frowned and looked around, standing up straight, “What’s the meme?” He asked, “What am I missing?”

Bartender-Charon tilted his head forward and looked Masque square in the eyes, “I am the boss,” He said as the guards at the door also spoke with his voice, “I am here,” The waitstaff turned as one and looked at Masque, “And here,” The bounty board host looked his way, “I am everywhere, and the only people allowed to use their powers in the Styx are those I approve of. Tone it down or shut it off, Mister Masque. My only warning,” Came dozens of voices in concert, dozens of pairs of eyes all staring at him as one. “You’re in the Ferryman’s territory now.”

Masque turned around and looked at all of the puppets staring at him as well as the patrons who were staring at him expectantly. There were several understandings at the Styx. The Ferryman provided protection, a link to Ishtar, bounties, money, and supplies. He was the beating heart of the growing society of Villains. The Styx was neutral ground and everyone agreed, no one fucked with the Ferryman. Talking back was an easy way to get enemies sitting seats away from another to work together for a singular goal. Punish the prick.

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Masque, fortunately, seemed able to at least read the room well enough to know better than to do anything stupid. The heat coming off of his body lessened significantly though his mask stayed on his face. Charon smiled through the bartender as the rest of his puppets went back to what they were doing, “Appreciate it,” Charon said, “Now, come on up. Follow that one,” He added and pointed to a puppet standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to the raised area where the VIPs sat and the doors to his private box beyond. “Leave your boys down here.”

A minute later and Charon looked up from his couch to see the masked man walk into the private space. He grinned at the pause in Masque’s steps when he laid eyes on Charon. Everyone reacted like that the first time, he sneered, “Masque, welcome!” He gestured to the refreshed spread, “Got some snacks, do you drink?”

“I’m good, thanks” Masque grunted before looking at Mephisto, “Who’s this? I thought this was a private meeting.”

“It is!” Charon said and gestured to the beauty next to him, “This is Mephisto, Ishtar’s personal dealmaker and the one who creates the paper the contracts go on. For someone as illustrious as you, I figured having him present to oversee the deal and make sure all your bases were covered would be the least I could do.”

Mephisto smirked at Masque, “Charmed.”

Masque stared at Mephisto, “‘Him?’” He repeated, clearly confused for a moment before pausing and then nodding. Something in his posture shifted and his chest puffed out, “I’m glad you saw fit to invite him, then, well met, Mephisto,” He said, forcing his voice a bit lower.

Charon repressed a snicker and kept his lips steady as Mephisto raised an eyebrow, “Right… so, why don’t you have a seat and tell us about this scheme of yours. See if it’s worthy of a deal with the wish-granting queen. I should reiterate that I’m just the middleman here, I work with Ishtar but not strictly for her,” He said, “We all clear?”

“Crystal,” Mephisto said with a smug smile.

“Understood,” Masque grunted and sat down on the other chair, opposite Mephisto. “So here’s the thing, those losers at the Pandora Committee have been building this fancy-ass new headquarters in the Netherlands for a while. They got a meeting coming up and apparently the voice of the heroes is going to be there herself, that bitch with an ego, Sonya Chernovna,” He began with a sneer in his tone, “My boys and I want to crash the party, wreck shit, and take Chernovna,” He flexed his fingers, “My power can make any one I see as attractive compliant,” He said, “Among other things,” He added quickly, “I’m gonna make her mine, then I’m gonna use her to control the Pandora Committee.”

Charon leaned back in his seat, keeping a straight face as he slowly turned his head to a wide eyed Mephisto. Mephisto’s lips were pressed tightly together, trembling slightly. His hands were clenched tight and if Charon didn’t know him, he’d think he was about to explode with anger. Quite the contrary, though. Mephisto glanced his way with his eyes nearly sparkling with delight. They both shared the same thought, These idiots want to kidnap Ishtar while she’s visiting one of her most beloved pet projects? Oh this is going to be good.

Mephisto let out a breath, “Well! That is ambitious,” He said and rest his chin on his palm, “You have enough people to handle it, I take it?”

“Yeah I don’t need any of your loner thugs,” Masque grunted.

“So gear and logistics, anything else?” Mephisto asked, writing down a few notes.

“Logistics?” Masque asked.

“Gotta get you and your boys there without the authorities noticing, and you need to house them,” Mephisto said, “Buy out a hotel for you for a while, that’ll work, right?”

Charon squeezed his jaw shut to prevent himself from laughing, he cleared his throat and chimed in, already picking up on Mephisto’s angle, “Flying would be quick but risky, The Hague is on the water, maybe a couple boats?”

Mephisto nodded, “Good thinking, you’ll need communication equipment of course, Ishtar can provide state-of-the-art tech ripped right off of the stuff the support companies are making,” He paused and forced a genuine smile, “I have no doubt in my mind she’ll find your scheme worth supporting for her ends.”

Masque leaned back and nodded, “I figured she’d be the type to see sense.”

Charon looked away and cleared his throat again, Fucking idiot.

“Now let’s talk gear,” Mephisto continued, “Guns, armor?”

“Enough for at least five hundred guys,” Masque said with a grave nod, “I’m bringing a big portion of my group with me.”

“A couple extra over that then,” Charon chimed in, getting a smirk from Mephisto, “No gear is perfectly reliable, best to be prepared for something not working properly, one can only guarantee quality so much.”

Mephisto’s eyebrows rose, “R-right!” He said, “I’ll add that in,” He scribbled something down then glanced up at Masque, “How about hardware? Computers, Monitors? You guys like those right? Gotta keep track of the mission in your war room.”

Masque leaned forward at the phrase ‘war room’, “Yeah, plenty of ‘em, make the room look impressive when they drag her in.”

Charon would have cried from holding back his laughter if he was even able to cry with dead tear-ducts, he leaned forward, “In that case you should get a desk too, big custom hardwood number, friggin sell it.”

Mephisto raised his notepad up to cover his face for a moment to hide his expression while Masque turned to look at him with a serious nod, “Good idea, I need all the supplies I can get for this. Something to keep her from using that power of hers too, last thing I want is her touching me somehow and learning my power,” He grunted.

Mephisto lowered his notepad and cleared his throat, waving his hand next to his neck, “It’s a bit warm,” He said with a huff, “Anyway, I have a suggestion. Ishtar is rolling out a new product. A copy of the power binders that ASTA is making. They’re expensive, but this is a loan and as long as you succeed, you don’t have to pay us back. Pushing the goals of villains forward is everything to Ishtar.”

“Oh we’ll succeed alright,” Masque grunted, “With all this support, we’ll make it happen. I want a meeting with Ishtar once it’s all over. So we can talk business,” He added darkly.

Mephisto coughed and wrote something down, “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to meet with her sooner than you think. This is a very interesting scheme.”

Masque nodded and crossed his arms, “Good. I also want you guys to keep the details to yourselves, can you put that in there?”

Charon looked away and clutched at his cane while Mephisto wrote a few more things down, “Sure,” Mephisto said, “A non-disclosure to last until the day of the event, how does that sound? I’d like to be able to discuss it with her after your success.”

The idiot crossed his arms for a moment and thought before nodding, “Fair enough, what else is there?”

“Just matter of payment,” Mephisto said and glanced at Charon, “You usually handle this part.”

“The debt is conditional,” Charon said gravely, “Should you succeed, Ishtar forgives all debts and you are invited as a VIP of the Styx among other perks,” Charon said, “If you fail, the debt falls fully on the debtor or debtors with an ability handling most of the financial transfers,” He explained with a wave of his hand, “Any further debt after all assets are liquidated must be worked off, one way or another,” He rest his hand on his cane and leaned forward, eyes glowing with malice, “So the question is, who is signing the dotted line?”

Masque stared back at him for several seconds before clearing his throat, “The Darksiders are one collective, a single entity that makes things happen as a whole. We share the load so the organization will sign as a whole,” Masque said.

“I see!” Mephisto said as Charon got quickly to his feet, walking away for a moment as he forced himself to calm down, his ribs were hurting now. “Well I have everything written down, you can look it over and sign,” Mephisto continued as Charon leaned against the wall for a moment, holding back bone cracking fits of laughter.

“What’s up with him?” Masque asked.

“Probably just a private conversation through one of his puppets, no big deal,” Mephisto said, his voice cracking a little, “Here it is.”

Charon looked back over his shoulder and watched Masque read over the lengthy document before snatching a pen out of Mephisto’s hand and signing it, “There.”

Mephisto glanced up and met Charon’s eyes, “It was a pleasure working with you, Masque. I’m looking forward to seeing your scheme play out live on tv,” He said with a small smile.

A few minutes later and some minor details cleared up, Charon stood at the window looking down into the Styx and watched Masque and his boys leave the way they came. Behind him, Mephisto shifted in his seat, “Is he gone?” The effeminate man said.

Charon nodded, trembling, and rest his hands against the window, “Yeah, he’s-” He snorted, “He’s g-gone.”

“G-good,” Mephisto snickered, “I don’t think-”

The both of them burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. Charon sank down against the window to sit on the floor while Mephisto grabbed his sides and kicked his feet in the chair. The two of them kept laughing until they were exhausted on the ground. Charon let out a heavy sigh and stared at the ceiling, “This is gonna be good.”