Chapter 39: Michael Russo Part II

"What?" Mark uttered, "What do you mean? You-"

"That seems to have riled you up. I mean what I mean, Mark. I supply the medicine, Jenny's death is delayed, and she continues to rat on you." Russo replied passively, uncaring about Mark's stern stare.

"So... So, you really are working with the Americans."

"Of course. How do you think Tayi gets the Eleme- Ah! I have misspoken."

'Bullshit. Like he would misspeak here. What's the Element?'

"Of course, we work with the Americans. Well, Void Solutions, anyway. Their government is a bit too... culty for me, personally. You really shouldn't get so worked up. Jenny works for Sishaf; we work with Void, and occasionally, they ask for favours. It wasn't too difficult to put everything together."

Mark took a moment to calm himself as important revelations came in, "So she really is the traitor. I thought, maybe Barak is lying, or he forged it." He sighed deeply before he stared into Russo's pale blue eyes, "I may not be as intelligent as you, but I can gather you told me that for a reason."

"Everything happens for a reason, Mark. Little occurs that is just coincidence. At least, I think so. I suppose you can treat this as Tayi's 3rd gift; to show our sincerity. As you said, this association should be built on trust. Void matters little with you onboard. Unless you weren't. In that case, perhaps the Americans would have a better... alternative. Instead of a lowly brigadier."

Mark's eyes flared red for a moment before settling, "Heh. So this is blackmail. You know I can't do anything in public. I can't do anything in private considering the circumstances, and thus, you corner me with this."

"No, no. You're misunderstanding, Mark. Tayi is a business. It is run by many minds, all working towards a set goal. However, each have different interpretations on how to get there. I am of the faction... no, group, within the company that believes you would be more important than Void. The Americans. I am merely telling you what would happen if our candidate didn't support us."

"Sounds like a mess. Why should I involve myself in it? Besides what you've pointed out?" Mark questioned. They wanted him; at least, Russo did. The more benefits he could gain, the better. It was time to start securing himself rather than leaving it in the hands of others and untrustworthy governments.

"Ha! That's what I wanted to hear. A smart man always looks for benefits even in bad situations." Russo chuckled as he combed his hair, his plate now empty, "You should finish your food. Be a waste, cold. As to the benefits, you say. Well, your support isolates the other side as defections will be rife. Bicker will join if you do, leaving Sishaf alone, forced to cooperate."

"I heard you two weren't especially keen on each other. Think one of the Tonight Shows was where Sishaf slandered you."

"Yeah... he's an asshole. Called me a virgin, if I recall. Knowledge is always more important than earthly desires. He gets lost in those. Anyways, even if Sishaf doesn't help, our side will have majority control in decision-making. Information? We got it. Designs and Advice? We got it. HAP can be your little personal assistant. All of the world's knowledge in your ear."

He took the last bite of food as he replied in praise, "She's... it is incredibly useful, I'll admit. Quite a marvel of technology. Tayi have outdone themselves, yet again. And about the designs and advice, why would I need that?"

"Do not mix confidence and arrogance, Mark. What is it they say? Surround yourself with people more intelligent than yourself?" The man stated, leaning back, "Advice isn't just publicly, either. Did you know, Tayi were originally an Arms company? Broker Missile, DFA and Rail guns. We made them all. In doing so, we acquainted ourselves with people some would consider... unsavoury." He paused to let it sink in, "Like Jenny, for instance. You want her gone? We can do it. You want to remove the false proof of your involvement in Freya Montjoy's death? Tayi...can...do...it."

"You talk like you know about that incident." Mark stated as plainly as he could.

'There we no cameras at the house. They can't know.'

"Mark. The neighbourhood is covered in cameras. Door cams, CCTV and plain old witnesses. Let's just say; that even with fingerprints, they have enough to get the perpetrator. Denial will get you nowhere. They're just waiting. For what, you ask? If you go all in, we can find out."

His eyes widened slightly, concentrating solely on the evidence, "They do?"

Russo's charming smile returned to his face, "As we agreed, Mark. We'll sort it out. You weren't involved anyway, right?"

"No. No. Obviously."

The waiter brought the next meal, duck fillet, in which both tucked in.

"I do love this place. The food never ceases to amaze me. No wonder it's been open 200 years. Francis, could you get us the... 2042 Bronstone wine?"

"Of course, Sir." The waiter replied in a thick, local accent.

"So, you wanted to know about design, yes?" Getting a glance from Mark saying 'go on', "I've noticed you often appear naked. Is it a voluntary choice? A fashion statement? Or are you just an exhibitionist?" The man laughed at Mark's expense, "I jest. Well, Tayi has the capability to create a suit for you. Like a superhero from comics or whatever. Really, make a brand. You get fame and recognition, and we get money. Win-win."

Speaking incredulously after a mouthful, "I am not wearing a suit. Nuh-uh. I'd rather casual wear. Too cliché to wear a suit."

Russo replied, with great enthusiasm, as his hands gestured with each sentence, "Ah! The popular, relatable kind of hero? We can do that. I'm sure you're aware, Tayi doesn't just create weapons, phones and marvels of technology. A clothing brand could be the perfect opportunity to solidify our relationship publicly. Imagine, Mark. The world's first mega-corporation and the world's first superhero. A powerhouse! Nothing more iconic!"

"Heh. Your enthusiasm is infectious. I will admit the more I think about it, the more this partnership seems good for me. For both of us. You provide the info, my... Bark's team makes a plan, and I save lives."

The man's smile dropped as he began to talk, "Beware optimism, Mark. If you cloud your mind with positivity, your actions will be rash. It's barely been a day since the press conference. If you renegade on the government's promise of being disaster relief, you break their subtle illusion of control. There's a reason they let you be 'free'." He paused as the waiter returned, filling their glasses before leaving. Russo took a sip, "Leave everything to Barak and his team. They're professionals. He's definitely one you can trust."

"Sounds like you know him. He an asshole to you, too?" Mark inquired in a joking manner.

"He has a unique... personality, I'll say that. When I first saw him. A bar in Italy in... I think, 2098; he started a fight with the whole place. I remember sitting there, thinking: 'Who is this dumb fuck?'. Heh, his group put most of the establishment in a coma. They got arrested; I took an interest and paid off anyone involved. Well, everyone I could." He smiled, "And now I think it's been, what? 15 years-ish working together. Helps with the odd job, and I help him. Got him into America a while back."

"Interesting back-story. It's almost as if you're telling me this whole 'crew' idea came from you. Honestly thought he was pretty loyal to the Cabinet."

"He's loyal to no one but himself, the movement and his... 'Leader' he mentions. The Cabinet in the UK is full of conniving idiots who got a modicum of power and went drunk on it. As to the 'crew' as you succulently put it. I had no hand in that. His group are pretty stuck in this 'candidate for leadership' or some crap like that."

Both plates now empty, they both sat back as Mark tested the wine. It tasted average, at least to him, but he isn't a keen wine connoisseur.

"Here, take it." Russo slid a phone over the table, "The newest generation S-phone. Not as many improvements over the 2nd version, I'm afraid. Sishaf has done a remarkably shoddy job."

Mark took the phone, tapping the screen as it lit up, "Thanks. Thought I was going to have to buy my own, honestly."

"That's the government for you. No phone, no tablet, and I hear they've removed your therapist. Tut tut tut, they seem pretty annoyed. Can't blame 'em." Russo finished his glass as he stood up, "I like you, kid. You're not just some bumbling buffoon who got powers, and I thank god it was you and not one of those primitives." He paused as he straightened his shirt, "You should go sightseeing. I'll give you security. You'll need them. The country, especially Paris, is chock-full of Aaban immigrants. Islamic extremists, the whole lot of 'em. It reminds me. Religion is something you should watch out for. They... either see you as the Messiah... or the Devil."

He shook the man's hand, "Erm, thanks for the warning. I'll take you up on your offer. About time I went outside."

"Right-on. Let HAP know if you need me. Everything will be sorted by next week; you have my word." They arrived at the front door, the sun in the clear blue sky momentarily blinding Russo, "Wonderful meeting you, Mark. We'll see each other soon."

Mark watched from the entrance as the handsome white man entered a black jeep before driving off. One vehicle remained, four suited men standing beside the doors.

'Well. That was productive.' He thought as he frowned, 'Doesn't like immigrants or religion. That makes him racist, right? Does it? Oh, I don't know.'

"Mr Evans, correct? We are your security for the day. My name's Dean." A bulky black man spoke, certainly American from his accent. His three fellows stayed stationary near the jeep.

"Ah, thanks."

"You're welcome, Sir. Any location or activity in mind?"

"I've... always wanted to see Paris from the Eiffel Tower. Seems a bit boring now I can fly, but might as well."

The man laughed, "Of course, Sir. This way, please."

Twenty minutes later, the security paying and skipping the line, he stood next to a curved pane of glass and metal. A small telescope was to his right, unneeded, as he stared out across the Paris skyline at three hundred metres up. The security was busy handling the surrounding crowds, who would rather take pictures of him than care about the view. Mark gazed out for many minutes, his mood sombre, as Dean checked on him.

"It's a beautiful view." The beefy man said, only slightly less than a foot above Mark, "Me and the kids came here few years back. Loved it."

"Mhm, it is. My dad once suggested coming. A year or so ago. Said I always wanted to visit the world as a kid. He was serious too. Ready to book a ticket, just me, him and my girlfriend. Heh, Elise always loved this place. She had such a romanticised outlook on it."

The suited man glanced at the young man beside him, "You never went?"

Mark looked down at the people below them, like ants, covering the ground as rumours of the flying humanoid buzzed across social media, "Nah... we tried but... ha, my little sister bawled her eyes out. Didn't want us to leave. Dad thought we could take them with us... but then Jake started arguing about leaving him alone and not wanting to go. Ahhh, what a mess. Just gave up on the idea."

"I know the feeling. All excited about something, and then you're hit with problem after problem. My son got cancer a few years back, treatment was fine, but the trip to Yellowstone got cancelled. Was looking forward to that, too."

They both laughed as the mood lightened, "Were you just going for a walk around or something like camping?"

"Camping. Job got me some special privileges, yanno." Dean chuckled to himself, "Was gonna be a retreat with some colleagues and their fam. Bah, whatever, there's always next time."

"Yeah... a next time."

"My bad, man. I misspoke."

"Nah, it's good. I won't deprive others of their happy thoughts because of my circumstances. That's unfair." Mark uttered, turning back to see the surrounding crowds and grimacing, "Might need permanent security."

"People don't know boundaries. You wanna get a crepe? There's a small, local restaurant down the road. They serve the greatest crêpes you can imagine." Dean said, staring at the ceiling, daydreaming.

"Food lover, are we? Sure, let's get outta here. They're starting to swarm." Mark uttered in slight nervousness as people shouted and clambered to get selfies and autographs.

The next ten minutes were spent as a continuing struggle to remove themselves from the tower as Mark was utterly swamped with people. The security and establishment personnel tried in vain to hold them all back.

"Agh! Fuck this. Dean! Go up a floor." Mark shouted as he bulldozed through the mass of bodies as gently as he could. Dean used his bulk to follow, exiting from the crowd onto the stairs.

"My god, dude. Russo ain't never had any crowds this amped up." Dean muttered as they jogged up the stairs.

Getting out from the staircase and onto the open-air floor, they speed-walked outside as grumbling clouds brewed overhead.

"You ain't scared of heights, right?" Mark casually questioned.

"Huh?" Dean said as he looked at the crowd starting to reform behind them, "N-no? I mean, yes, but I'm not petrified. Why-" The man paused, "No, no, no."

"Well, I kinda need directions. Plus, it'll be fun. I won't drop you. Come on. The... the crowds coming." Mark stated; his experience carrying Barak gave him a moderate sense of confidence.

"Oh, fine! Fuck it! Don't drop me, man!" Dean spoke as he stood beside the younger man.

Mark grabbed him by the waist with one arm before realising the man was too big. Using his other arm as well, he lifted the man as easy as a bag of sugar before slowly floating upwards.

"I advise going slow, Mr Evans. Sudden acceleration can be deadly. This also applies to high speed with pressure and wind. Sudden stopping and changing of direction are also ill-advised." HAP conveniently added.

"Erm, thanks, HAP. You enjoying yourself, Dean?" Mark laughed as the man cursed and lightly flailed as he stared at the ground, "Where we going?"

"I do not feel secure, brother. It's across the river if you don't mind going down." The robust figure replied in angst and agitation.

Mark descended to lessen the man's fears as Dean calmed the closer to the ground they went, flashes of cameras snapshotting the moment. He followed the bulky man's directions to a medium-sized diner as they landed gently.

Dean stumbled across the pavement, people looking in awe at the spectacle, "Phew. My god. Phew. Alright, I'm good. I'm good. Y- You wanna go inside?"

"Damn, am I really that bad of a transport? How embarrassing." Mark uttered as they went inside, "What about the other 3?"

"Just messaged them." As he put his phone back into his pocket, "They'll be here shortly."

They ordered crêpes as planned, sitting down as a small crowd had formed outside taking pictures.

"This is ridiculous. I was told my eyes were quite intimidating. These people don't give a damn." Mark spoke in consternation.

"Welcome to fame. People will do anything for impressions online. Vultures, the whole lot of 'em. To be fair, your eyes are definitely... strange. More exotic nowadays than intimidating, I'd say." Dean's calm voice spoke.

"Ah, those weirdos? The ones who are into that cybernetic crap? Or do you mean the freaks who tattoo their eyes?"

"Hey, I don't judge. Doesn't affect me, you feel?" Dean expressed as they were given their food, "Ahh, crêpes. You'll love 'em."

Mark took a wide bite and gave his impression, "Not bad."

They continued eating, waiting for the rest to show up. Mark's eyes wandered, spotting a young woman a few tables down. He frowned as he realised something, "Did... Heh, smart."

Dean gave an inquiring eyebrow raise, which Mark took to answer, "I'm getting old. Did you know I'm 23 today? Now that I think about it, it all makes sense. Wow, he really is devious."

"It's your birthday? Man, I had no idea. Should've gotten you a cake."

"Hmm, even if you didn't, he did. I completely forgot my own birthday. Elise... said she'd get me some sweets..." He trailed off.

"I won't presume to know what happened or how you're feeling. But I'm sure. She would've wanted you to enjoy the occasion."

Mark ignored the man as he finished his food, slight sadness welling up inside of him. It bothered him, the ability to live without sustenance, to have no desire for food. It was human instinct to eat, and he felt remarkably alien without it.

'Tsk, what is one minor disadvantage with a package of advantages...'

An hour later, the security warded off the small number of people nearby as a slight drizzle came down from above.

"Damn rain! Tsk, it was nice meeting you, Dean. I hope to see you again. It was... fun." Mark stated as the man patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, you too, man. Have a good day. Enjoy it!" He shouted as Mark took off, "Phew. That's never gonna get old. Fuckin superpowers, Elliot! And I gotta fly!" Dean exclaimed to his colleague as his pocket vibrated, "Ah, boss' probably calling. Yes, boss?"

"Now you've finished with the kid. I've got a job for you. Head to England. Alone. It's time for Tayi to rise. Sishaf's debt is due."