The Wrong Genre

Pickup

Двое мужчин ищут вас

Maestro stared blankly at the text he had just received from Viktor (one of the Russians who lived on the edge of the neighborhood) in total incomprehension.

"Romulus! The Russians are texting me again. Translate," he called, not moving from where he had seated himself. There was a put upon sigh and some louder-than-necessary footsteps (neither sound Maestro reacted to), and then the scarred head minion leaned over his boss' shoulder to clearly see the phone he was still holding.

"It says 'two men are looking for you'," he said simply before returning to whatever he had been doing before.

"So they sent two," Maestro mused. One would undoubtedly be Stravarius, and the fact that Viktor had said 'men' ruled out Vertigo and Flashmob. So he was accompanied by either knife-hands or Interdit.

Neither of which he particularly liked.

Of course, he objected to liking any of them, but highly irritating Stravarius was most definitely a world above pompous Interdit and unstable Stabby. After all, he only disliked Stravarius professionally; the other two he disliked on a personal level.

Two succinct raps on the door interrupted Maestro's thoughts.

"Romulus, get the door!" He called, despite his position about five feet away from said door while Romulus was on the other side of the apartment.

"Zakum, get the door," was the only reply Maestro received to his demand. Zakum, who had been in the kitchen, strolled leisurely towards his objective. Sure he would do as Romulus requested, but he was going to take his own sweet time to do it. When he opened the door, he grinned smugly at Maestro (who was emphatically not giving the clone the satisfaction of glaring) rather than actually looking at who was behind it.

Which is why he had the door all the way opened before facing their visitor, and he came face-to-face with Interdit himself.

"GAAAAH!" Zakum screeched, throwing himself away from the open door and the psycho who had been hiding behind it. In a millisecond, Maestro had appeared between his witless minion and his much-hated foil. He twitched just a little at the familiar, but very faint, scent of magnolia.

"Will you stop screeching?" Romulus called flippantly from out of sight.

"Why did he react like that?" Interdit demanded, breaking away from his confusion to glare at Maestro.

"I really have no idea," Maestro shrugged, sending a glance at the clone which had become much more bold now that his boss was standing between him and the perceived danger. He made sure to say it in as suspect a voice as possible, but it honestly was the truth. He suspected Romulus had something to do with it; the man had taken to spreading horror stories about Interdit to the lower-ranked minions. "So did you come to terrorize my minions, or did you just miss me?"

"We came to accept your help," Stravarius cut in, seeing that Interdit was probably about to insult the villain in some fashion and deciding he would rather avoid that. Interdit took the moment (after glaring at his fellow hero) to glance suspiciously around the room. His eyes caught on a wine cabinet by the wall, stuffed full with around 30 bottles of different grades of Vodka. Now why didn't that little fixture surprise him.

Alright, that was a lie. Maestro did not seem like the alcoholic type.

"So I've been told," Maestro said mildly, despite the fact that it was a complete lie, giving Stravarius a searching glance before turning back to Interdit with a slasher-esque smirk. "And how did they get you to deliver the good news?"