The MCRT, Morlocks, MGH and Murder

Part 2: Chapter 16

After a call to Clay Quartermain, listening to how the conference was going, explaining what had happened to Red, and also mentioning his run-in with Marjorie, Remy felt a bit better about things. And yeah, maybe the medicine Ororo had all but forced down his throat last night might have had something to do with that, too.

But mostly, he had thought of something to put his mind on other things than the failed assimilation of Red – another poor soul, of course. He shrugged into his coat, grabbed his keys from the top drawer of his desk and was heading to the parking lot when he ran into Logan. “Where ya headed, kid?”

“The city,” Remy said, half-guardedly because he just knew what Logan was going to suggest next.

“Good, I’ll come with you,” Logan said, and he wasn’t asking. “I’ve got a few things I wanna check out regarding some MGH deals.”

Remy just shrugged in agreement. He didn’t want to ask the five ‘w’s when it came to Logan, because it usually turned out to be some half-baked conspiracy. And it wasn’t until they were nearly there and Logan didn’t request a different location than where Remy was heading, that Remy figured this was some kind of play. “What’s going on, Logan?”

“You’re losing your skill, Cajun,” Logan said, and there was a grimace on his face indicating, in his case, a smile.

“Fuck off,” Remy replied, without any heat. “Just tell me why you’re suddenly interested in the Charlie’s Angels’ MC.”

“You want me tell you why I knew you were headed there, too?” Logan asked, and he actually sounded a bit excited.

“Whatever floats your boat, old man,” Remy said, his eyes behind sunglasses as he scanned for a parking spot relatively close to Marjorie’s place.

Logan chose to ignore the younger man’s sarcastic tone. “Well, I’ve got some contacts of my own down in the sewers. Not that I’m all friendly with them like you are. But they tell me what I need to know.”

“Uh huh,” Remy muttered, hardly listening, as he took a spot only three blocks away. Fucking Big Apple parking. It hardly seemed to matter that it would be the same in any city, because at least in The Big Easy, a long walk from parking spot to destination would be warmer.

Logan was saying, “So, this guy I know tells me that Red knows that brothel lady, and she’s his hookup. So, when you didn’t come back to the scene yesterday, I figured you went to see not only Red’s people but perhaps someone who might know something about the MGH.”

Remy stopped listening after ‘hookup’. “Wait. What did you say?” The shift from the warm car to the cold streets caused his lungs to rebel and he coughed harshly.

Logan raised his brow at the sound, but said nothing until Remy finished. Then, “That lady that runs Charlie’s Angels. She sells MGH to Red and his clan.”

“Marjorie doesn’t sell MGH,” Remy countered, “She sells herself and her girls.”

“That’s not what my guy says.”

“Is he some sort of goddamn soothsayer or something?” Remy asked, annoyed because this could be any scene from six years ago, when Remy was nothing more than a rookie to Logan, and the older man was shoving his hard-earned wisdom at him. “How would he know?”

“He was one of the Green Clan,” Logan said, obviously getting what Remy was feeling, but not really caring. He’d lived too long to be bothered by a twenty-something’s petulance. Kids.

“Was being the operative word,” Remy replied quickly, having an idea who Logan might be referring to now, and pleased his ‘skill’ seemed to be returning. “His name Dirk by any chance?” Dirk was one of the younger members of The Green Clan, Red’s people, one Remy had high hopes for, because he was smart and had dreams of something bigger than living in the sewers. When he had gone down there to talk to Red’s people about his death, he was informed that the group, without Red for less than a day, had already split ranks. Remy had not encountered any of the younger members that had hung around with Dirk and believed his ideas.

“Yeah,” Logan replied. They were nearing Marjorie’s place now. “Dirk said Red had gotten big into the drug in the past few weeks, and he often went surface hopping to see his hookup.”

Remy thought on his feet, because they were nearly at the door now. “Well, go bring him in then. He might know a lot more than just who was selling it to Red.” He didn’t want Logan to come in, all fisticuffs and claws, scaring a bunch of sleepy teenagers who had spent the night having sex for money. He would prefer Logan take a long hike back to 116th street and try to find Dirk. Which, for Logan, would be cake, but Remy hoped it would give him enough time for what he had planned.

Logan wasn’t an idiot, and he grimaced slightly at Remy’s plan. As per usual, the kid was thinking with his heart and not his head. But Logan couldn’t see the harm in letting the kid stay indoors with a bunch of girls for a while, making them feel important and all that shit. While he got some real work done. “You know, maybe Dirk is just saying that to preserve himself. He might just know a lot more than he’s willing to tell. How rough d’you think I should be?”

“He’s not all that big, Logan. Take it easy on him.” If Remy knew what Logan was thinking, it wasn’t obvious. It was obvious though; that he was glad Logan was going to leave him with Marjorie.

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