Jackson Hollop, also known as, Juror Twelve. Mr. Hollop was a middle aged man white man who sat in upper middle class. Mr. Hollop had a wife and three children. Mr. Hollop was a good American who kept up with the Joneses. Mr. Hollop was a defense attorney’s nightmare.

Ion had run out of challenges when Mr. Hollop became a prospective juror and he had no beliefs that would outright disqualify him from serving. During the course of the case it was clear from his body language that Mr. Hollop had already decided that the defendant, a mutant named Eric Tanner, was guilty. For men like Mr. Hollop, if the police arrested you than you clearly had done the crime. In this case Mr. Hollop was correct, Mr. Tanner had without a doubt used his mutant powers to rob the bank. The issue was that the evidence.

Mr. Tanner had never left a fingerprint the police could find. Mr. Tanner had never revealed his face during the crime. Mr. Tanner displayed his mutant power, but who is to say someone else couldn’t have that power. New York CIty has over twenty million citizens and has innumerable tourists. Anyone from anywhere in the world could have been in that bank.

The prosecution relied on the low odds of any two mutants in the same city having nearly identical powers and the testimony of a witness. A drug user who lives in the same building as Mr. Tanner.

The former could be obfuscated with a series of subject matter experts who contradicted what the prosecution’s experts said and by undermining the credibility of the prosecution’s efforts. The latter was easier, people are already inclined to not trust their friendly neighborhood druggie.

Ion’s approach to the defense had been working, The trial consultant had indicated they had the jury on their side, except the one. Juror Twelve.

It was time to change that. If Ion couldn’t win hearts and minds in the courtroom with logic and tugging on heartstrings than he would speak a more base language. Fear.


The jury had not been sequestered for the trial, they could still come and go in their normal life as they wished, but were ordered to avoid discussing the trial or watching any media related to the case. Mr. Hollop therefore continued to frequent his favorite bar, McGee’s Pub. The trial was on recess until Monday, Mr. Hollop planned to spend saturday night out drinking. Come three in the morning as he left to walk home, he was yanked into an alley as he walked home.

“What the hell! Let go of me!” He yelled before Ion pushed him into a dumpster. Ion wasn’t the strongest man around, but he was strong enough to man handle a surprised drunk.

”Good evening, Mr. Hollop. I need just a moment of your time.” Ion had stepped back into a shadow, a hoodie pulled up to hide his face, and affecting a different voice. Mr. Hollop looked at Ion and tried to move away. Immediately a corona formed around Ion as electricity arced between his hands. ”Please, Mr. Hollop it’ll only be a moment and it is preferable to the alternative.” Arcs of electricity formed between Ion and everything around him. Crackling and the smell of ozone filled the air.

Taking the hint, Mr. Hollop retreated back to the side of the dumpster. Seeing the man’s compliance, Ion brought his hands together and the electrical breakdown subsided leaving just the corona behind.

”Let’s talk about Eric Tanner and how Stephanie would really appreciate him not being convicted.” Ion said as the color drained from Mr. Hollop’s face at the mention of his wife.

This world was...interesting. As much as Poseidon could see the similarities between these two dimensions, it wasn’t hard to notice the differences too. One of the biggest, he could see, was the way that mutants were handled. Mutants didn’t have that firm a place in this world either, but they were completely subjugated the way that they were in his own world either. In his world, mutants lived in constant fear of the organization created to bring the human populace piece of mind -- S.U.P.E.R. He was happy to see that the monsters didn’t exist here but it was only a matter of time. Eventually SUPER would realize that there was a world that they didn’t have roots in mutants were actually living free; something they couldn’t allow.

Poseidon needed to ensure that that didn’t happen, but the only way to do that was to watch and recruit. The Syndicate was not organization belonging to one world either. He couldn’t sit back and watch mutants be discriminated against and, if there was threat of SUPER chasing them across the rift, then it was up to the Syndicate to do something about it.

But where to start? The good news was that Jorge had already begun. There were already a number of operatives under his sway who were starting to push into this world, as well as new recruits from this universe. It seemed that were was a bit of a vacuum left behind from the last of these groups who tried to place mutants at the top of the food chain. All that meant that it was the perfect opportunity for him to step in and give these individuals a purpose.

However, he needed more than muscle, he needed brains, especially those in the legal world. He had representation back in his own universe, but now he needed it here. One name that kept cropping up during his data digging when River and Duke broke into one of the Mutant Related Crimes unit here in this world, was the name of a lawyer by the name of William Faraday.

Faraday, a name linked with many, many mutant accused mutants and a perchance for getting most of them off. It was truly an inspiring sight but there was curiosity as to whether this guy was a mutant himself or just a human tapping into the mutant money pool. Either way, Jorge was excited to find out, especially after he set out a few people to track and keep tabs on the man.

It seemed that these days he was defending a suspected mutant bank robber. All the evidence was pointed at him as the criminal and, really, it looked like a clear cut case. Still, from transcripts he read, secret videos being recorded, Jorge had to admit that he was impressed with Faraday’s ability to command a courtroom. But just how far would he go to get the results he wanted? That was most important here.

It was one of his informants who clued Jorge in on what Faraday was up to; he was apparently tracking down a difficult juror. Eager to see where this went, Poseidon was quick to follow the man, setting up in an alley as he watched Faraday stalk his victim. When the juror was grabbed and shoved into an alley, the criminal merely grinned to himself, watching from the darkness.

>>“What the hell! Let go of me!”

>>”Good evening, Mr. Hollop. I need just a moment of your time...Please, Mr. Hollop it’ll only be a moment and it is preferable to the alternative.”

Jorge couldn’t miss it. The whiff of ozone, the stark blue of sparks erupting threatening around the cowering human. Yes, Faraday was certainly a mutant and seemingly one after Jorge’s heart. Still hanging back, he merely let the man work as he prepared to offer the juror the deal of a lifetime.

>>”Let’s talk about Eric Tanner and how Stephanie would really appreciate him not being convicted.

Jorge didn’t say anything. Leaning against the brick wall in silence, unseen, he merely listened as Faraday spoke to the juror. It seemed that he wanted him to have a change of attitude, to keep an open mind as to the fact that the criminal on trial was innocent. He was the only one holding up a not-guilty verdict and it was his duty to look at all the facts, including, what was most healthy for the man’s own wife. Jorge smirked devilishly at that, lowering his head and nodding. Yeah, he was already liking this guy. But it was only after the juror was sent scuttling away that the crimeboss and sighed and firmly clapped his hands.

At the moment he was merely a silhouette, a shadow standing at the end of an alley, the glow of a cigar shiny red from his lips. He continued to clap until he got the lawyer’s attention and chuckled. ”Beautiful. Simply beautiful. I didn’t realize they taught ‘Shaking Down Jurors’ in law school. But you must have been top of your class.”

The conversation between Ion and Mr. Hollop went predictably. Mr. Hollop wanted to put on a tough front, hide behind his pride, duty as a juror, other drivel. Eventually Ion’s ability to provide enough information about Mr. Hollop’s wife and her schedule got it through his skull. Do what I say or find your kids a new mother. Ion only had to make the man ride the lightning once during the whole conversation.

When confronted with a threat humans display one of three behaviors; fight, flight, or freeze. Mr. Hollop was a red blooded American male whose first instinct was to fight when backed into a corner and the threat was in front of you. Threatening Mr. Hollop’s wife prompted him to rush Ion. Ion let him see what a taser feels like with a lazy gesture of his hand and several seconds of electrical discharge. He could have done much worse, but he wanted the man scared, not hospitalized or dead.

Finally when Ion decided his work was done he moved aside. ”It has been a productive evening, Mr. Hollop. You had best get home before that lovely wife of yours gets worried. And don’t forget, just keep an open mind, there is no reason to think Eric is guilty. Just make sure he is acquitted and we can all put this behind us.”

Seeing the chance to leave, Mr. Hollop slid along the wall away from Ion nodding his head. Ion reduced his generation to its minimum. The corona reduced to the faintest hint of the spiky colored wisps off is body. If Mr. Hollop made a poor life choice and came back with help Ion wanted to be able to end any confrontation quickly.

Rather than footsteps of New York’s finest, Ion heard someone clap.

Ion looked to the clap, his power ramping back up his electrical generation leading to electricity arcing from him to the walls, the ground, the dumpster, anything else around him. It bathed the alley in an ever shifting purplish light. Ion couldn’t see the man, he was silhouetted with just the faint light of a cigar. Ion didn’t need to see him though, he knew that voice. Detective Jorge Cervantes, NYPD Mutant Related Crimes Division.

The Detective spoke and Ion held still. His face was still shadowed, but it didn’t seem to matter. The Detective knew Ion was an attorney, this meant he might know it was none other than WIlliam Michael Faraday. He had a few choices, including hitting the Detective with enough juice to cut steel. Instead he maintained his composure. He needed to know if the Detective had just discovered him or if the entire department knew.

”Independent study.” Ion said, maintaining the voice he had affected for Mr. Hollop. ”We were always encouraged to find innovative solutions to problems.” Electricity danced around Ion’s fingers as he stood watching the silhouette. He didn’t know what was beyond the alley. He would need the Detective to approach him or he would have to leave through the other end of the alley.

There was one thing that didn’t fit. It was the Detective’s voice, but his tone didn’t fit with what he would expect from a detective who had just witnessed threat of bodily injury, assault, jury tampering, and a terroristic threat. And the posture, too relaxed.

”To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

>>”It has been a productive evening, Mr. Hollop. You had best get home before that lovely wife of yours gets worried. And don’t forget, just keep an open mind, there is no reason to think Eric is guilty. Just make sure he is acquitted and we can all put this behind us.”

Poseidon was impressed. Watching the lawyer work was like watching an artist paint. There was a passion behind his words, whether he knew it or not. He could simply be trying to earn his paycheck, but what lawyer was stupid enough to expose themselves like this simply for a paycheck. No, for as competitive as Mr. Faraday seemed, it was highly unlikely that he was simply in it to see a bunch of zeros at the end of his pay. Besides, if Jorge had gotten that sense from him, he would have simply walked away and disappeared into the blackness. Lawyers he could afford by the dozen, what he needed were people who wanted a path.

From reading transcripts, especially from notes he gleaned from his counterpart, it seemed that Faraday almost went out of his way to defend mutants. Some were clearly guilty but that didn’t mean that the man wasn’t trying every legal loophole to dig them out; and, judging from this current display, every illegal one too.

But what was the point in hiding? As Jorge watched the terrified juror scurry away, the crime boss could only chuckle as he lit himself a cigar and clapped his hands at the impressive display. His voice immediately drew the attention of the hooded lawyer. Jorge couldn’t see his face from here but judging from the body language the man was clearly not prepared to show off for an audience -- shame as it was a hell of a trick.

>>”Independent study...We were always encouraged to find innovative solutions to problems...To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

Jorge could appreciate the man’s attitude. He was cool under pressure. He didn’t know who it was that was speaking to him from the shadows and still he wasn’t some whiny baby trying to keep from being exposed, nor was he a hot head trying to bury all witnesses like some rabid dog; Poseidon liked him, a lot. So, he took a few careful steps forward, keeping his gait slow and calm until he was illuminated by a nearby alleyway light. His features cast in shadows, the man reached up, taking a drag from his cigar before he removed it from his mouth and snorted out a stream of smoke. It whirled about him, giving him all the appearance of a dragon coiling around a precious treasure hoard.

”Oh, no, Mr. Faraday,” he grinned. ”The pleasure is absolutely all mine.” Another drag, another stream of smoke. ”You already know this lovely face,” he said, gesturing to himself. ”As well as the name...but I can assure you that you’ve never met the likes of me before.” A chuckle. ”And believe me when I say, I’m not lying. If I were, may the good lord strike me down.” He paused, looked up to the sky for a beat, then snorted and replaced the cigar between his lips. ”P****,” he mocked with a blasphemous tone.

The man took his time in answering. Took a few steps into lamplight and let out smoke. In the light the man stood under Ion could see the face to match the voice. Detective Jorge Cervantes. Except it wasn’t. The way this man held himself was different. Ion waited for him to answer before deciding on a course of action.

It was Jorge Cervantes but not. Same face, same name… Different universe. The way he spoke, the way he acted in context, and what he said. This must be the Jorge of the other universe across the rip.

Not a detective then? He still could be but would be outside his jurisdiction here and would have no need to bother Ion. He was something else, someone else. This Jorge applauded criminal activity. This Jorge tempted God, assuming there was one. This may be the other universe’s Jorge.

It could also be a clever sting.

Ion held onto his power, the longer it ran the deadlier it became. He generated just enough juice to keep it arcing across his fingers and a corona visible around him. Nothing too flashy, relatively speaking, but it kept the flow he could release at once rising. He could always generate the power to fill the flow later.

”Good to meet you Mr. Cervantes. You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.” Ion moved his hand in front of him and wiggled his fingers. Electricity arced between them. ”If you are not the detective, then why are you here?”

Information was king. Before he acted he needed information. Someway to corroborate Mr. Cervantes statement or disprove it and if disproven, how to evade.

Oh God! Smite him down! How many times had the crime boss heard that on the dying lips of men and women who had managed to get on his bad side? How many times had victims implored the heavens for a bolt of lightning or tornado of fire or even a massive heart attack to just end the man before his torturous treatments would come to fruition. But, while they may have been devout and committed, Jorge still stood, still breathed, and still ended life without a second thought. No, for him, God either didn’t exist...or he was simply scared of the waterbender.

Either option simply brought a twinkle to the old man’s eyes.

He advanced upon the lawyer, truly impressed by the deadly sight. The arches of electricity that flared off his body, the scent of burning in the air, there was so much for the crime lord to be utterly impressed by. Of course, he couldn’t let the other onto that fact too easily. This was a sales pitch, after all, and there was no point in not playing a little hard to get.

>>”Good to meet you Mr. Cervantes. You’ll forgive me if I don’t shake your hand...If you are not the detective, then why are you here?”

He smirked. Right the point. This was why Jorge had liked the man. He was not only looking for more members to help anchor the Syndicate’s place in this universe, but he needed smart and well-connected people. Faraday’s connections were indeed something to salivate over. But, again, he needed to play it just a little coy. So, his hands crossed over his chest, the waterbender shifted off to the side, taking a casual stance leaning against a nearby wall.

He knew some about the mutant, but not everything. He could gather some details concerning his views on mutants, especially from the files that his people had managed to steal from the MRC. The Cervantes of this universe certainly had some “choice” opinions on the man. But, judging from the work that Poseidon had been following, he wasn’t all together surprised. Had he been a “good” man, even Jorge might have agreed that Faraday was a shameful one.

It was a good thing that the watermancer had no shame.

”Ohhh, that certainly is the question, isn’t it?” he grinned. He made quite the side, the intimidating man in the business suit, leaning against a slimey wall without revulsion. ”What could I possibly want? I mean, I did just see you strongarm a juror. Exactly how illegal is that?” He grinned. But, while he was teasing the lawyer, he clearly was making it known that his knowledge of it wasn’t going to lead to the same ramifications as if his doppleganger had known. He raised his hand in a calming gesture. ”Please, relax. I’m not here to turn you in. As a matter of fact…” a cheshire-like smile. ”...I simply came here to talk.” A pause. ”About your future, that is.”

Jorge Cervantes was there to talk. He knew Ion had strong armed a juror and wanted to talk. About Ion’s future? If he wasn’t there to arrest Ion, what was his angle? Ion put his hands in his pockets, adopting a nonschelant posture. If Mr. Cervantes wanted to talk, they could talk. In the glow of Ion’s power and streetlights.

”Well it depends. Was a threat made, was it believable to him, did I cause any injury, and was any evidence to tie it back to the perpetrator left?” Ion emphasized the last point. ”But something tells me you know a little bit about that yourself.”

This Jorge Cervantes wasn’t bothered by juror intimidation. He had the look of a man who’d seen it done several times to get his way. Ion moved on to where mr. Cervantes was wanting this conversation to go. ”So yes, let’s discuss my future. What can a corporate and criminal defense lawyer who you allege to have seen intimidate a witness do for you, Mr. Cervantes?” Ion asked and cocked his head to one side, curious to hear what Mr. Cervantes had to say.

Jorge knew that the lawyer and his counterpart in this universe had a run-in before. The files that his people had managed to get from the MRC were more than informative. They detailed not only the most dangerous mutants in this world (on record) but also many of those who would be considered “obstacles” towards him and the Syndicate’s doings. Jorge was an obstacle, and would be dealt with accordingly, but Mr. Faraday, no, he was something altogether useful if he could get him on the same page.

Still, he was curious to know exactly how the mutant would try to explain his situation had he been this universe’s “Jorge Cervantes”. So he joked with him, exactly how illegal is jury tampering? Or rather, how illegal was the type of jury tampering that Faraday was engaged in?

>>”Well it depends. Was a threat made, was it believable to him, did I cause any injury, and was any evidence to tie it back to the perpetrator left? But something tells me you know a little bit about that yourself.”

He grinned. Serious, Faraday was a smart, smart boy. He truly hoped that the lawyer saw the light. And the best to achieve what he wanted, as he learned, was to always be blunt. He wouldn’t arrest Faraday, that wasn’t his job. Rather he wanted something far different from him.

The lawyer took a more relaxed posture, hands in his pockets, as he looked over the crime boss. Still Jorge could see those arches of electricity causing an otherworldly effect to bask Faraday in light. But while most would shy away or avert their eyes from such an intimidating sight, Jorge did not. Why should he? He was merely here to talk, not to antagonize. Besides, even though his abilities easily put him at the disadvantage, here was a man who mocked God himself, why wouldn’t he be cocky enough to believe he could stop the little sparkplug?

>>”So yes, let’s discuss my future. What can a corporate and criminal defense lawyer who you allege to have seen intimidate a witness do for you, Mr. Cervantes?”

He grinned. ”Exactly that.’ He said. He wouldn’t approach, not many than he had to as he didn’t want to put the man at the defensive. Instead he just stood back, keeping the same relaxed posture that Faraday held. ”As I’m certain you are aware, I’m not the ‘Cervantes’ that you’ve already met. I, actually, come from much farther away. Still,” he looked around. ”I have interest in this little corner of the dimension. I’d like to set some roots here. And I’m looking for some able-bodied people to assist with that.” Another charming smile. ”Would you consider yourself able-bodied?”

Mr. Cervantes reaffirmed he was not the Detective Jorge Ion had already encountered. His claim to be from much farther away was one Ion would dispute in the literal sense, the other New York was essentially in the same place. From a metaphorical perspective it would indeed be further. Down that line of thought only lay argument for argument's sake. Unproductive at that moment. And irrelevant.

Mr. Cervantes was recruiting.

”By all objective measures I am both able-bodied and of sound mind. The latter I imagine is of more interest to you.” Ion said and took a casual step closer. His power had now been running a very long time. If Mr. Cervantes attempted something untoward, he would see what happens when you cross a lightning bolt with a plasma cutter. ”And you wouldn’t be here, now, if you didn’t deem me appropriate for this… job?” Ion guessed. It fit.

Ion took a few steps closer as he spoke. His movement was marked by casual confidence, ”The question I have is what you need. The detective of this universe is smart and you seem the same. Only… Darker. You ask first for someone able-bodied and you have no problem with intimidation tactics. You want muscle, mutant muscle I would wager. Yet, you approach someone like myself. Someone who makes precision strikes, someone who targets the linchpins. You are looking for something more than just muscle. You’re looking to set up roots in this universe so you need people who know this world. How it works, the who’s who. A position in leadership of something… An organization… Perhaps something akin to a mob or mafia? Stop me if I am in the wrong.”

Ion stopped walking as he finished speaking and held his hands out, arms moving outward to his sides, palms up. He now stood a few yards from Mr. Cervantes.

Poseidon was not a man to leave things to the last minute. If he had plans then he made sure that he did everything in his power to put those plans into action. He wanted a place in this universe, a lawless universe where humanity hasn’t made that step against mutants that crossed the lines of decency and disrespect; that was a universe he needed to partake in. With SUPER not yet formed, he could settle the Syndicate roots early, make sure that he and his operations were buried deep, deep under the ground and allowing him spread as far as he dreamed. But he wasn’t going to achieve his dreams by laying around, waiting for things to happen.

It was his ability to plan ahead and caused him to make the first move towards gaining the membership he required. He had the muscle, he had the intrigue, but what he needed now were the positions of power that he hadn’t earn yet. That was going to be the most dangerous part of this world. He had the influence and the position back in his own universe -- places that he had earned. Here, he was starting from scratch, but he was savvy enough to know the right ways to speed up the process.

One of which was standing in front of him.

Faraday was a lawyer, and one of the best in the city. Getting legal on your side, good, expensive legal, was the first step towards everything. If he could get someone with Faraday’s expertise, standing, and biased towards mutantkind, then the rest of the pieces would surely fall into place. He just needed to get past this initial meeting. It didn’t escape his notice that the arch of electricity hadn’t died down, but he didn’t waiver in his stance either. Instead he bore with him the face of a man who had faced far worse and come out on top. Confidence was everything, after all.

>>”By all objective measures I am both able-bodied and of sound mind. The latter I imagine is of more interest to you...And you wouldn’t be here, now, if you didn’t deem me appropriate for this… job?”

He smiled. Did he really have to respond?

>>”The question I have is what you need. The detective of this universe is smart and you seem the same. Only… Darker. You ask first for someone able-bodied and you have no problem with intimidation tactics. You want muscle, mutant muscle I would wager. Yet, you approach someone like myself. Someone who makes precision strikes, someone who targets the linchpins. You are looking for something more than just muscle. You’re looking to set up roots in this universe so you need people who know this world. How it works, the who’s who. A position in leadership of something… An organization… Perhaps something akin to a mob or mafia? Stop me if I am in the wrong.”

Yes. This was exactly what he was after. As he listened to Faraday talk, plucking points and facts that only the most truly observant could catch onto, Jorge knew he found the right man. Faraday was right on all accounts and the mob boss’s silence should have been evident enough to show that the lawyer was on the right track. By the time he was finished, the watermancer was smiling wide and impressed. A low, demonic chuckle vibrated through his throat as he nodded his head. He watched Faraday loom closer, again still showing no fear as he sighed and turned to him.

”Simply extraordinary,” he said teasingly. ”Clearly I don’t need to stop you.” He stopped, let the silence hang for a moment and then picked up the conversation. ”You’re right, I don’t need muscle. What I need…” he pointed with a finger gun, clicking his tongue towards Faraday’s forehead. ”I need your expertise. I need your skill with the law. And I need your heavily favoring our brethern.” He paused again. ”The world I come from, legality for mutants is almost nonexistent. What I want to do here is to prevent that from happening again.” A cheery smile as he shrugged his shoulders. ”And if we earn some side cash along the way, why not?” A final sigh as he finally unclasped his arms from behind his back, crossing them over his chest as he eyed the lawyer. ”Have I piqued your interest, lawyer?”

Ion was not one who craved praise. Mr. Cevrantes’ teasing compliment was met by a lack of change in expression or posture from Ion. All Ion cared about in what Mr. Cervantes had said was that he was correct in his conclusion. When Mr. Cervantes let silence fall, Ion maintained his silence. He had said what he needed to say, he would wait for Mr. Cervantes to disclose what it was that he truly wanted.

The waiting was worth it. Mr. Cervantes continued and provided what he was looking for. First and foremost he needed exactly what Ion was. An attorney. An attorney who favored mutants. His side of the rip was a legal mess for mutants. Ion had looked into the law on the other side, it was as if the Bill of Rights did not apply to mutants. The Fourth Amendment protected “the People” all that was necessary was to make mutants not “People”.

Mr. Cervantes ended his brief with a mention of money. Money was an excellent motivator, and one Ion enjoyed. Money was a means to what he truly wanted. Power and control. Money itself could be viewed as power, but it was only as powerful as what it could buy. It gave you power over the corrupt only. Money could be used to buy institutions though and those institutions could give you power over even an honest man.

”That you have, Mr. Cervantes.” Ion said as he continued to consider what he had been told. ”Let’s say I am. You are looking for someone who is more than just an attorney, someone to simply provide legal cover. How would I fit into your organization?” Ion had a suspicion Mr. Cervantes was looking for an advisor. A natural role for an attorney. And Ion wanted details before agreeing to anything.

Jorge didn’t feel there was any reason to beat around the bush with Faraday. By laying it all out on front, he was possibly risking incriminating himself, but that was a risk that he was willing to take with someone like this. Men like him required honesty and boldness to catch their attention, and his attention was something that Jorge sorely needed. Of course, if the lawyer wasn’t interested, he was sure that he could find someone else just as capable, but why settle? Why not gamble and bet it all on black? Jorge wouldn’t have made it as far as he did in his world if he hadn’t risked it all.

Besides, he was right. Even before Faraday spoke, Jorge could see the wheels spinning behind the man’s eyes. He had a remarkable poker face, not allowing the watermancer any privy to his facial expressions, but Jorge knew people. He knew how they acted. And he how the minds of certain people worked when they were interested. Sure enough, he was interested.

>>”That you have, Mr. Cervantes.”

Bingo. Jorge continued to stand, his arms across his chest as he stood back and just waited for the lawyer to finish his inspection. He was being careful too. This was his world, after all, and clearly he was dealing with some less-than-legal actions of his own. For all Poseidon’s insistence, this could very well be a sting, after all. Faraday had every right to be cautious. But, at least that wasn’t keeping him from talking.

>>”Let’s say I am. You are looking for someone who is more than just an attorney, someone to simply provide legal cover. How would I fit into your organization?

”Answer to that is simple -- I need...advising, to say the least,” he said. ”I already have people in my payroll from this side of the rift.” he explained. ”However, none of them have the connections or the higher knowledge of this world that you possess.” He sighed and shrugged slightly. ”Good help is so hard to find these days. But, if I want to set roots in this world, I need someone like you, as part of my council.” He tilted his head to Faraday. ”How would like to be the the forefront of progress?”

An advisor. Mr. Cervantes was looking for counsel for operations on this side of the rip. That was something Ion could do. His profession even meant he was often called Counselor. It also made sense that Mr. Cervantes would seek out Ion. Most attorneys simply know how to provide legal cover to criminals, Ion was someone who pursued actus reus himself and knew how to provide cover for his actions going in. Exactly the foresight and planning Mr. Cervantes would need for this universe.

Being at the forefront of progress? Mr. Cervantes of course did not literally mean at the forefront, that position would of course be filled by himself. A counselor to the one at the forefront though, depending on how much influence said counselor had would be perfect. Ability to help shape everything but without having to be the face. Being at the forefront in a more abstract or broader sense would be perfect.

”You have my attention, Mr. Cervantes.” Ion said, ”Let’s say I am willing to be your counselor. Will I have an office or work from where I work now? Would I have full access to this organization? People and papers. To provide counsel I must have access to all information. And what are your expectations, beside providing counsel?”

If he was to join an organization he would need to know how things would work. He also needed to know if he would be able to have what he needed to have to do what was asked.

Poseidon was always an excellent judge of character. In the lawyer he could see a man who could be shrewd and ruthless, both in the courtroom and outside of it. He wasn’t expecting Faraday to be some living weapon, however. It was just comforting to know that those in his employ could take care of themselves so that he wasn’t having to watch over them twenty-four-seven. If there was one thing that Jorge didn’t have, it was patience for those people who couldn’t save themselves. Maybe it went along with the whole God-complex, but there it was.

Faraday, however, seemed more than capable of handling himself. The small display of the man’s abilities that he just witnessed was enough to assure the crime boss that the man wasn’t one to be trifled with. He knew his way around words and he had the bravado and the power to back it all up. He was clearly a man after his own heart.

Standing back, he let the lawyer mull over his words. Maybe they were moving quickly but considering the legal reputation that Faraday carried with him, it was clear he wasn’t going to appreciate the whole song and dance. So why not be blunt? After all, what did he have to lose?

>>”You have my attention, Mr. Cervantes...Let’s say I am willing to be your counselor. Will I have an office or work from where I work now? Would I have full access to this organization? People and papers. To provide counsel I must have access to all information. And what are your expectations, beside providing counsel?”

”I just want you to do what you do best...inspire.” He grinned. ”Yes, you will access to the deepest, darkest corners of my organization, including people and papers the likes of which I can assure you’ve never seen before. After all, to be an effective counsel, there’s a lot you should know.” A beaming smile. ”Let’s set a lunch date, shall we? Surely two titans such as ourselves deserve the proper ambiance to accompany such talks. Hardly seems appropriate for a dark and dank alley; that is for other uses.”