Battle of the Mind (Jake)

[Aidan Fox]

They drew closer to the pavilion, all metal pillars sunk deep into the cement under a sprawling roof. The wind hissed through the steel rafters and set the whole structure vibrating.

There was no sign of life in the old pavilion. Aidan sighed and pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "We'll give him another five minutes," he said. "Keep your eyes open."

He lit the cigarette with a jet of blue flame from his thumb and stood staring out over the desolate grounds.

[Ramona Calaveras]

Pedro's man was right on time, though not exactly in plain sight. Ramona had watched from one of the pavilion's long-suffering picnic benches as the pair approached, the long summer shadows gathered around her in a haze. When she exhaled, the darkness dispersed into the air like the smoke from Aidan's cigarette, slowly revealing the shape of someone standing up from the bench, the hood of their sweater up over their head.

“Fairground's closed, you know.”

[Jacob Foley]

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath.

After whipping around on full alert, Jake attempted to regain his cool composure, and fished a cigarette pack and lighter from his jacket pocket. Lighting up, he regarded the hooded stranger with a practiced indifference.

"So, what's this about?"

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan wheeled in mirror image with Jake. He didn't recognize the woman, but at least they both had just traded mutant calling cards.

"You must be Pedro's friend," he said, his mouth leaking smoke. "I don't think we've met. I'm Aidan, this is Jake."

[Ramona Calaveras]

Flipping the hood down to her shoulders, she came forward out of the gloom with both hands pushed into the pouch-pocket of her sweater.

“I'm Ramona... Pedro told me a lot about you two.”

Her gaze drifted between the pair, before dropping to the cigarette carton Jake held.

“You gonna offer me a smoke, or what?”

[Jacob Foley]

"Oh."

Jake fumbled with his battered packet, and at length presented it to Ramona with a single cigarette conveniently poking out. He watched her intently.

"I'm Jake."

[Aidan Fox]

That counted as pleasantries in these circles. These weren't the friendliest of surroundings, and Aidan was eager to get their business take care of as quickly as possible.

"Pedro told me he had some news to share with us about the Onces."

[Ramona Calaveras]

She took the cigarette and with a little more prompting, Jake even managed to find the courtesy to light the tip. Before she went on, Ramona took a long drag and closed her eyes as she savoured the moment.

“Keep meaning to quit, but all this cloak and dagger shit gets me nervy as fuck. Anyways, the onces... Marano's heard some pretty interesting shit lately. Pedro said he told you about the Nectar.”

She waited a beat for a nod from either Jake or Aidan; the latter obliged. “It turns out that the 3-11s are pushing Nectar to the fuckin' Jericho Center, of all places. You'd think they would have better connections than the onces but whatever,” Ramona shrugged, flicking away ash from the tip of her cigarette. “The problem is... right around the time they start peddling that shit, we start noticing mutantes going missing from the streets.”

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan lowered his cigarette away from his mouth. "Missing? What do you mean?"

[Ramona Calaveras]

“Missing, gone. Like one day they're here, the next they're not.”

Ramona shrugged one shoulder and wrinkled her face at Jake, as if to say: Is he always this slow?

“Lot of mutants in this city, you know? Some of 'em too proud to go somewhere like your house, so they end up on the street. Their families don't want them, so if maybe one day they trip and fall into the back of a Jericho van, who cares? One less freak for the police to worry about.”

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan's hand closed around his burning cigarette. The whole thing went up in a puff of blue flame.

"Shit. I figured they were running the drugs to Jericho, taking but mutant prisoners... This isn't about territory anymore. The Onces are turning into a damn lynch squad."

[Jacob Foley]

The string of revelations left Jake silent and cold. There was something deeply sinister about these cloak-and-dagger attacks that somehow made the Three Elevens' open hostility towards the residents of Redencíon House seem preferable. He thought about their kids and how vulnerable they would be to such abductions. How could he warn them without outing himself and Aidan as La Raza conspirators? It felt like being cornered with only one means of escape: through the enemy.

"If they've changed their gameplan, we need to change ours, and fast. Pedro must surely see this?"

[Ramona Calaveras]

“If they want a war, he'll give 'em one.”

Ramona drew a deep lungful from the cigarette then exhaled pale smoke through her nose. She looked at Aidan then Jake, her mouth a hard line as she examined their expressions.

“What he needs to know... is when the shit hits the fan, who's gonna be there for la raza?”

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan had known this was coming. As a rule, gangs didn't take consultants - anything less than filial devotion was cause for distrust. That was the reason for the colors: either you were in or you were out.

"You can tell Pedro we'll defend this neighborhood from the Elevens, come hell or high water," Aidan said. "That's always been the agreement. As long as we share the same turf, we're in this together. But open warfare in the streets? That's going to be as ugly for La Raza as it is for Redencion. We need a better option."

[Jacob Foley]

"What about this place in West Carson? If that's where the nectar is being trafficked then maybe that's where the Elevens are depositing abducted mutants, too."

For all intents and purposes, it was their only lead, and provided them something concrete to work from instead of dancing around flimsy declarations of loyalty. The operations at the abandoned warehouse posed a significant threat, not only to La Raza and their territory, but to every mutant in Los Santos - and all they really knew about it was that was locked down like Fort Knox. It was disturbing to think such nefarious machinations were taking shape in his own back yard, and Jake felt a pang of regret at his dismissive treatment of the news earlier, all because he was feeling a little sorry for himself. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and looked to Ramona:

"If you get your hands on one of them, I'll find out everything you need to know about this place," he glanced at Aidan, "And then we burn it to the ground."

[Ramona Calaveras]

La Raza knew how to talk big – but Aidan was right. For all their posturing, they didn't want a war. The bravado that Pedro and his boys carried themselves with was a shield designed to ward their enemies away, not to antagonise them. Still, Ramona couldn't help but grin and give a slow, approving nod to Jake's suggestion of torching the warehouse.

“We can pick someone up, no problem...” she answered, feeling her attention pulled away from the two boys to the pavilion, a little frown wrinkling her brow.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan flicked some ash off the end of his cigarette. "Any information we can get will help for a target that big. We'll have to coordinate..."

He saw Ramona's attention shift, and he mirrored her frown with one of his own.

"Jake, do you sense anything?"

[Jacob Foley]

"We're not alone," he said, casting his cigarette to the ground, "Two of them. Behind the gazebo."

Jake was rooted to the spot, his telepathy didn't require him to remain stationary, but it helped. It helped to make no sudden movements when you were being watched. In his mind's eye, he saw the rotten wood of the bandstand and the gravel beneath their feet, his fingers coiled around cold steel and balanced the sturdy weight of it in his hands - no, their hands. His heart switched gears but he was steadfast.

"Something's not right," he muttered breathlessly, "They're... waiting for something..."

Something flickered briefly at the back of his mind; an image, dark and warped. Frozen, his eyes narrowed, and with a shallow gasp it reappeared, this time he had the distinct impression of movement, a strange winding sensation. He gave Aidan a troubled look.

"Something's not right here. I think-"

Dark shapes twisted and swayed, left and right, left and right, the sky stretched overhead in infinite panorama, and the floor crawled under his belly. It was a world of giants, two of which swept suddenly into view, dwarfed by a towering pavillion. He made his choice, and surged forward with murderous intent.

"Aidan-" Jake's warning fell short as he threw himself at his friend, sending them both toppling to the ground.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan felt the wind go out of him as he crashed to the ground, which turned out to be lucky - the moment before Jake had barreled into him, he'd inhaled a mouthful of something that wasn't cigarette smoke but burned like pepper spray. He tumbled shoulder over shoulder and pushed himself up by his elbows, nearly retching as wisps of black smoke curled out of his mouth.

Standing where he'd just been a moment ago was a billowing column of smoke, inky-black even in the garish sodium glow of the streetlights, and out of the smoke materialized a tall, dark-skinned man with a predatory sneer on his face and a long, shining knife in his hand.

Still choking, Aidan drove his hand into the dry sawgrass that filled the grounds and sent a curling jet of blue flame through the yellow stems and up like a spear at the attacker's chest. But before the flame could hit home, the stranger vanished into smoke again and spiraled off like a bottle rocket into the darkness.

[Ramona Calaveras]

Before Ramona could think to move, an arm was locked across her throat, the flashing blade of a knife precariously close. Teeth-bared, she grabbed at her attackers forearm with both hands, digging her fingernails into the bare skin there – before bursting into a twisting spiral of ash-black smoke. Colour drained from the world around as she tripped forward, turning just in time to see the knife-man vanish. The pavilion knocked the wind out of her as she hit the ground, dark smoke billowing a smouldering cocoon around her when she materaliased once more. Aidan lay a matter of feet away. She thrashed out an arm at him, grabbing his wrist as the knife-man materialised with a puff above them both. Blue fire surged out of her other hand and into his chest, the taste of burnt leather filling the air seconds before he evaporated again.

“Motherfuck, that stings!” she swore, shaking the flames from her smoking fingertips.