The X-Project

On Friday night, Angelo and a friend meet with Miguel in an LA club, and finalise their plans.



The club barely deserved the name, not much more than a warehouse that had been outfitted with a bar and a music system and a few scavenged tables. But it didn't seem to bother the Hispanic couple. talking and dancing together. He was obviously a mutant, his grey skin catching a few glances, but the way he carried himself discouraged any trouble. The girl was like any of the others there, skirt too short, top too tight and on the revealing side, large gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears.

"See your friend anywhere around yet?" the girl asked the boy, leaning closer so he could hear her over the music.

Angelo was obviously in his element - or back in it. He'd been almost surprised by how easy it was to drop back into this kind of place, even after four years away. "Can't see him", he said with another cursory glance around, most of his attention on her. Miguel would find them when he arrived.

"You gettin' soft, man," The voice was gravelly, and when the pair turned around they were faced with a man wearing khakis, wifebeater, and a plaid shirt. His hair was closely cropped, and he was covered in a myriad of different tattoos, all prominently featuring the number three. Gang tattoos, gangs nowadays used tattoos instead of colors to primarily identify themselves to confuse the cops. Miguel Torres' posture was casual, but there was the underlying air of danger he projected, as if one wrong look from you and he'd have you dead within seconds.

He gestured to Angelo's companion with his chin. "Lose the chick. I trust you, but I don't trust her."

Angelo gave him a hard look, demeanour changing on the instant as he sized up his former friend. "Don't let looks fool you, Miguel. An' she goes nowhere if you want me in on this."

"Hey, if you boys wanna talk by yourselves, I can go," the girl said, tossing curly black hair over her shoulder. "I'm here to help Angelo out, but I'm not stayin' if it's gonna make things worse."

"She stays", Angelo repeated, not giving an inch. The look he shot Miguel now was a challenge. You want my help? I'm in charge.

Miguel made a "tsch" sound with his tongue. "The instant she does something stupid, man," the look he shot Angelo's companion finished his sentence for him. Girls could be vicious in this town. He settled himself into the chair at the nearest table, every movement like a tightly coiled spring. "We ain't got a lotta time, so I'll make this quick. Alejandra manifested 'bout last year. Blew some shit up with her brain. She got real scared, 'membered what happened to you and what happens to others. We got two rules in our gang. No muties and no fags."

The girl settled beside Angelo, giving the club an apparently bored glance before turning her attention to the two young men.

"She won't. An' I remember", Angelo said tightly, staying on his feet and ready... for whatever. "Got the scars to show for it. So you said you kept her at home."

"It was the only way to keep her safe. I couldn't let her out, she had no control, only then she started resentin' me, backtalkin', sayin' I just keepin' her prisoner. She got it into her head that she'd be better off without me," the knuckles on the hand that gripped the table turned white. "So she took off. Took out the door while she was at it. I tried to make her come up, but she threatened to blow me up everytime I got near. Then I hear she's got herself running with a new pack of freaks. All hopped up on Kick."

Angelo nodded. "Makes sense she'd have got in with the first people who'd take her." He'd been in her place, once. "So we know how many there are, I'm guessin' you know where they are... can we count on your guys for backup if it goes bad?"

"We've been lookin' to whack these guys for months. They've been eatin' into our territory, takin' our corners so they can push their shit. They'll be backup, but they'll go after any mutie they see, so it'll be a last fuckin' resort." Miguel twitched his fingers again and casually looked around. Only Angelo knew that was a sign that he was extremely agitated. "Just, get my sister outta there. I don't care what you gotta do, but she goin' to get herself killed. If not from the drugs then from us comin' after her."

Angelo's eyes flicked down to Miguel's hands, not missing the signs, then back up. "It's not gonna be easy, man. 'specially since she won't want to come. But we'll do it."

Miguel nodded. "Knew you would. Knew you'd help. Always had that do-gooder streak that almost got you killed several times." Miguel shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't do more, but if they catch me talkin' to you they'll do a lot worse than leave me in in a burnin' car." Miguel reached into the the front pocket of his shirt and drew out a slim square of folded paper, passing it quickly to Angelo. "This is all what you'd need to know. Numbers, corners of ours they took, coupla names that might know where they hide out."

Angelo snorted at the first of that, then just nodded and took the paper. "Go on. Can't get you to call them in if we need them if they kill you first. We'll be in touch."

"Vaya con dios" Miguel nodded and stood, walking away from the table and melting into the crowd of the club.

Angelo watched him go, exhaling quietly, then turned to the girl. "So what'd you make of that?"

"He's not the smartest, but he's not shittin' us," she replied, letting out a breath. Not talking during all that had been hard. "An' worried about his sister." She frowned. "I don't like the idea of pullin' in his boys - we do that, things could get messy. Real messy. Best to go with the plan. Get us an in, see what state the girl's in, get her out if she'll come, drag her if she won't." She pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her handbag and offered him one before lighting up one for herself.

He took it automatically, lighting it off hers. "Like he said - they should be the last resort. Only if things're already too hot for us to handle."

She nodded, reaching for the piece of paper. "He said they're dealin' off the corners? Sounds like the best way to make contact." She flashed him a grin, hard and ironic. "No-one gives a junkie credit. I'll be bait, you be the hook?"

He nodded. "Think we've got ourselves a plan." There was a short pause for a drag on the cigarette, then, "Alejandra's the priority here, but if we can... think we can see about doin' anythin' for the others? People're gonna die if this turf war goes ahead, on both sides."

"Depends. Might be able to shut things down if we get enough to hand over to the cops." She wasn't happy about any of this, but she could see his point. "But first sign of things goin' wrong, we're out. We don't have the manpower for a full-scale job, Angelo."

"I know", he agreed quietly. "But we do what we can, agreed?"

She nodded, earrings swinging. "Agreed. But no heroics. I'm not seein' you killed in some fuckin' gang war, not after everythin'."

That got a wry grin. "Be a hell of an irony, wouldn't it, 'Manda?"

"Fuckin' right it would be." She leaned over and kissed him then. "An' don't forget, it's 'Dom' here. Since I'm bustin' my voice doin' this accent and all. Be a shame to waste it."

He laughed as she pulled back, nodding towards the dancefloor again. "Right, Dom. One more dance before we go?"