Diplomacy

Scene I: New York City, New York - Trump International Hotel & Tower - Friday, October 3, 2003

Appropriate that I am here in the city where the United Nations calls itself home.

And very convenient.  A shame I couldn't have borrowed the British UN Ambassador for this evening.

I may need him.  And any and all diplomatic skills I can hone and wield.  Maybe I could call Sir Jeremy?

Nah.

Then again, perhaps Marissah will prove to be very useful.  She's busying herself in the kitchen at the moment cooking something that smells...*sniff* French in nature.  Smells wonderful.  

As is she.  

She could charm Satan himself.  And who knows.  Maybe the Dark Lord sent her to me to do his bidding all the more?

Whatever.  

She's a great lay, as I noted once, a great cook, a PhD...hopelessly vain but what the hell.

I enjoy her.

I checked my watch.  It was getting near 8 PM.  I was expecting Jeff for a little get together, seeing as we haven't seen each other nearly as often as I'd like.

We only spoke briefly over the phone and I sent my Lear to get him and bring him here via JFK.  We'd have much to discuss.

And I truly hope he understands that what I did, I did for the sake of business.  

And perhaps for his own good.  The Jacobins would be absolutely pleased to have Kushner on side, not merely because he is a champion.

But because he is a warrior, he is a friend, he is a man.

And I cannot help but feel that the Authority is using him, and that they always have.  I will bring up anything and everything I can in my power to try and convince him that I am not after him Jeff Kushner, the person - but merely Jeff Kushner, the Authority's bitch.

I want this evening to go smoothly.  I truly do.  Hell, I even stocked up on Coca-Cola.

I know otherwise though.  I fear that he will not see where I stand and why I stand on the principles that I do.  It's always been that way, from the CWF to today.  And this line-up that I've just seen on CSWA.com not thirty minutes ago is going to cause more than its share of headaches in that regard.

I called Seamus, TSM, Wright, and invited them all to New York City, to the Plaza's Oak Room, for a meeting and state of the union discussion within the next few days.  We have much to talk about, particularly this six man tag.  The stipulations in this six man tag are designed to set us upon ourselves.  That is apparent.  The Authority must hope and plan that somehow, some way, greed and lust for the Heavyweight Championship is going to distract us from our goal and cause: liberation.  And perhaps, set us upon each other and cause dissent and chaos.

How wrong they are though.

Nothing, nothing - not the Heavyweight Championship, not the risk of having to face the Odd Couple for our Tag Team Championship - will stop us from trying to secure victory by all means possible against Mace, Xavier, Kushner.  Should TSM be able to secure a pin-fall: glory; glory; glory.

Should Finnegan pin Jeff and win the Heavyweight Championship at the sametime - I will make it his by every fibre in my being and ensure he gets the victory, whether over Jeff, or any one of them.  And I shall celebrate into the long hours of the night, likewise with a TSM Heavyweight victory.

My only ultimate, unseated, unshakeable belief is loyalty to the Jacobin purity, and cause.  Libertas an mortis, then, now, and forever.

"Sweetie get your ass over here and taste this for me will you."

Duty calls.

I placed my glass of wine down and walked over to Marissah who turned around and almost jammed the spoon down my throat.  I coughed and swallowed whatever the hell it was she was cooking...some sauce by the look of it, bubbling on the stove.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Well," I choked, "I can see why your PhD was in English and not cooking."

"Fuck you."

"Certainly, but I don't know how easy it'd be over the stove."

She shook her head as I stepped back as she continued to stir.  I leaned my head over her shoulder and whispered, "Tell me, you took some French...what exactly would be the French translation for, 'My God that tasted like shit?'"

Her jaw dropped as she elbowed me in the stomach.  I laughed and smacked her on the ass as I walked off.  

"You bastard, never cross a woman armed with a hose."  She blasted the tap and sprayed the back of my shirt with icy water, causing me to yelp.

"Oh now you've done it."  I turned around and was glazed over by her mischevious flirtatious smile.  God it was hypnotic.  I immediately walked forward and began to kiss her.  Marissah was vicious in her returning of the favour: teeth, biting, gnawing and all.  Damn intoxicating.

We stumbled our way out of the kitchen as she tried to turn off the stove and oven as to not burn the dinner in progress, and into the bedroom we went.  Clothes went flying fast and furiously.  I don't know how much time went by but it felt like only seconds when I heard a knocking at the door.

"FUCK," she cursed.

"For GOD'S SAKE," I whisper-yelled.  We hurriedly got dressed as Marissah began to complain that she had to reapply her make-up again.  I rushed to a mirror and tried to straighten out my hair and tie as the knocking increased in loudness.

"ONE MOMENT," I called out as I checked once more to make sure there was no stray lipstick I missed on my cheek or neck.  I hurried to the front door and opened it to reveal Jeff, standing with a small smirk.  I smiled and extended my hand.  Jeff was reluctant but took my hand.  I understand obviously and awaited any barbs or insults, etc. that he'd throw my way.  I was prepared to be non-confrontational, if I could keep my own temper and ego in check.

However. If he didn't see that, I was ready to give as well as I got.

"Catch you at an off moment Bob?"

Again. God how I LOATH that name...

"Not at all...please, do come in."  Jeff nodded, and as he stepped into the light the obvious mark near his temple left by the impact of my lovely gold plated brass knuckles.  I took his jacket and showed him into the living area displaying the view of New York City.

"Wow...nice place you got here Bob."  He stood and admired the view.  He turned and looked at me.  "Who'd you have to knock out to get a place like this?"

Strike one.

I half-laughed.  "Please sit down."  We sat down in the two opposite chairs when Marissah made her presence known, and walked to me.

"Ah, my dear lady."  I stood up as did Jeff once again.  "May I introduce my good friend Jeff Kushner...Jeff, this is my femme fatale at the moment..."

She hit me on the arm.

"Marissah."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Jeff courteously as he went to shake his hand.  

Marissah nodded.  "You two guys best remember that dinner will be served in about ten minutes or so, alright."  

She walked off back to the kitchen as we sat back down.

"Where'd you find that warm little dish."

"In a bar."

"I'm not surprised, you've probably tried to pick up as many woman in bars as bottles."

Strike two.

"Well then," I joked, "Maybe you should start going to bars, or has Adam-X gotten his teeth into you yet."  I smiled a sneer as Jeff pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, hopefully feigning insult.

"Now now Bob, be nice.  And while you're at it, why don't you get me a drink."

That's better.

"Would you care to share in a bottle of 1939 Lafaurie Peyraguey white bordeaux, or a 2003 vintage of Coca-Cola?  I heard this year is EXCELLENT."

"I think we both know the answer to that."  I nodded and grabbed him a can from the fridge and sat back down.  

"Cheers...and to friends."

He sipped and then turned to look at me.  "I hope that's true."

"Of course it..."

He cut me off.  "This damn mark on the side of my head would seem to indicate otherwise Bob."

I drank from my glass and shook my head.  "I expected this, but I truly think," I turned to look at him now, "you know why I did what I did."

"Of course I do, and thank you for not patronizing me."

"I would never do that to the Heavyweight Champion."  

"I'll take that jealousy to be sincere jealousy...but thanks, anyway.  You're going to sit here and tell me, just like Seamus did after that match, that it was all for the sake of business, and nothing more, right?"

I listened and heard the annoyance in his voice.  "Something like that, yes."

"Well I'm afraid I try to see friendship as beyond business...but I see both you and Seamus think otherwise."

"Well hold on...that depends on your perspective.  You see it as an assault on you the person...I see it as a strike against the Authority and in cause of the Jacobins."

Jeff shook his head.  "Always against the Authority aren't you.  I've never understood it really...always fighting us."

Us.  I could have spat in disgust.

"The fight, I'm afraid, is all we have.  The Authority or Darkness have been at the top of every federation we've been in since we left the CWF.  And it's time for that to change...and that's something myself, TSM, Chris and Seamus are trying to do - achieve change.  And by any means.  Even if that means trying to take you out during a match."

I'm sure he could have spat in disgust at my little rant.

"Then we're going to have to play by the same rules."

I smiled.  "Good. I don't expect anything less from you in this upcoming match, or any other match that we may have down the road."

"Just do me a favour...next time just hit me with a chair, it doesn't leave as bad a mark."

"Oh I don't know about that.  I mean you should be used to having gold around you, and I merely just gave you some gold that left a mark!"

"Just like my foot will when I kick your ass next Wildfire?"  Jeff suggested with a whiff of humour.

"Pshhhhhhh."  I shifted in my chair.  "What a scam that match is.  But it doesn't really matter.  The Authority is going to suffer the fate courtesy Mademoiselle Guillotine I'm afraid."

Jeff laughed.  "We'll see.  Didn't you used to date her once, I can't keep track really."

."Nor can I keep track of the number of titles I've held over you."  We both smiled.

"Ah but you've never been at the top of the fed, have you."

I leaned over.  "No, I haven't - I've been at the top of the world."  

This was getting childish.

"Okay Bob, grade five was a long time ago, why don't we knock this off."

"Suits me.  Listen," I had another sip and then continued, "We stand on opposite sides of the wrestling spectrum right now, ideology wise.  We're going to have to deal with it.  If we can by any means keep this out of the friendship...then please. Let's."

"I can agree to that," Jeff declared.  "But I'm going to be honest.  I have some misgivings about you Bob, and I know you think the same about me.  That's no secret.  All I can say is that I agree with you, if we can keep this out of the way, then fine. Otherwise..."

His emotions didn't change.  Nor did mine.  He didn't have to complete the sentence, we both knew what was next.

"Okay get your asses in here, dinner is ready."

If diplomacy fails, what is left?

War.

Here's hoping.


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Jacobins

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