11400/Vic has a Question for the Kingpin

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Vic has a Question for the Kingpin
Date of Scene: 30 May 2022
Location: Office - Fisk Towers
Synopsis: The Question shares some disturbing news about one of Kingpin's employees who has a disturbing side gig. Kingpin puts a stop to it ASAP.
Cast of Characters: Vic Sage, Wilson Fisk




Vic Sage has posed:
It's likely been a very run-of-the mill day for Mister Wilson Fisk, world-renowned philanthropist and entrepeneur. Lots of calls taken, lots of checks signed, lots of hits called, and lots of burritos scarfed. Boiler-plate, indeed, until there's a ruckuss just outside of his front door. The guards stationed there-by can be heard grunting beneath the weight of meaty-sounding heavy punches and kicks. The whole fracas lasts for less than ten seconds and culminates with the door to Wilson's office opening slowly to reveal the face (or lack thereof) of The Question.

"You need better guards, Fisk," Vic says, beginning his long walk across the colossal office. His hands slip into the pockets of his blue trenchcoat and he comes to a stop about halfway across the room, a hand untucking itself to tip the front of his fedora back a touch.

"You and I need to have a conversation."

Wilson Fisk has posed:
"As a law abiding citizen, I would think that common courtesy would dictate that they need only look imposing to impress my guests," replies Wilson Fisk, looking up from his desk with a calm demeanor. If he was meant to look intimidated, that effort failed. "But it is duly noted." He rises up to his full, rather impressive height, and steps out from behind his desk.

"Can I ask about the subject of this conversation, and why you felt the need to assault my employees instead of simply asking for an appointment? I assure you, I do try to keep my calendar open for any impromptu meetings that may arise. Charities rarely think too far ahead, and as you know, I am a sucker for a good cause."

Vic Sage has posed:
"Hrmm," is Vic's response to Wilson, taking a moment to look all around the office. It's a habit he picked up in foster care. No matter where you go, find the quickest and safest way out as soon as you can.

"Would you believe me if I told you that they turned me away at the door?" Question asks, his brows ticking upwards as he looks over at Fisk. "I did some digging around in Gotham last night. Looked into some smuggling rings, you know..." he trails off, lifting a hand out of his pocket to poke at one of the ornate suits of armor stationed near one of the office's massive columns. "Wzywolenie is a smuggling ring that spawned in pre-Cold War Poland. They can get you just about anything with enough time, and they do it on the cheap. They're exceptional at finding young women for discerning clients," Question rambles on, thumping the antique kabuko helmet he's staring at. "Asked some Questions, followed some threads. Did you know..." he trails off, looking over to Wilson. "That the ringleader, Mr. Jakub Pasciak is on Fat Man Automotive's payroll? That's one of your companies, isn't it? Sounds like guards are the least of your worries."

Wilson Fisk has posed:
That actually -does- get a reaction out of Wilson Fisk, whose face instantly twists into one of rage. He takes a deep breath, followed by noather, before the puffy redness disappears from his cheeks. Serene again. "It would appear so," he says, although his voice lacks the blase attitude it did earlier. He pushes a button on his desk. "Julia. Ask Victor pay Jakub Pasciak a visit. I'll ring him shortly with questions, but I want him on his way. Now."

Turning his gaze back towards the man with no face, Wilson frowns. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. While, as you can see, I have rather exotic tastes, and I will confess that at times the objects that I import may bypass certain regulatory agencies," Wilson takes another breath. "I would never, -ever- allow the trafficking of any women to occur within my city." Another huff. "Least of all by anyone in any way associated with me."

If this is an act, he is very, very good at it.

Vic Sage has posed:
"See, that's what I was thinking," Vic says, hands dropping from the suit of armor and slipping back into his coat pockets. He turns and takes a few more steps towards Wilson, neck having to crane not an insignificant amount to take in the whole picture of the man. "If we can't trust our titans of industry...who can we trust?" That is The Question.

If Question has just signed Pasciak's death warrant, it doesn't seem to be digging at the man at all. "Wzywolenie sold young girls, none of them a day over fifteen, to a doomsday cult. They were going to be sacrifices. All but five were," Vic explains, a frown digging its way through his featureless mask. "Whoever's holding their leash should make sure to tighten it, don't you think?"

"Before it turns into a noose for both of them."

Wilson Fisk has posed:
There is a cracking of knuckles from the larger man, and Wilson nods. "Rest assured, any information that can be squeezed out of Mr. Pasciak will be put to good use. I do -not- tolerate this sort of activity in my city." He pauses, considering the Question. "In light of your hearty work discovering this and bringing it to my attention, I would be happy to share anything we can draw out from him with you, to assist you with your investigations." A pause. "While I would be shocked and dismayed to determine that there was any part of this despical activity that involved more men under my employ, I can also assure you that if that were the case, they will suffer a far worse fate than any you could inflict."

The breathing of the man is that of an animal, rapid and enflamed. The Kingpin's reputation for scofflawing and cruelty were legendary, but it appears that even -he- has some lines that are not to be crossed.

Vic Sage has posed:
"Good," Victor says, hands sliding back into his pockets. His jaw tightens a touch before before the tension is released and he moves to the desk, a gloved hand producing a Fisk security keycard from his pocket and setting it on the surface. "You'd have flagged it as compromised by the end of the day, anyway," he says, moving to walk back towards the door. "Don't give me a reason to swipe another one, Wilson," he says, looking over his shoulder for a moment before he's making his exit.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
A brief nod to the Question. "We'll be in touch."

Once he is alone, the Kingpin picks up his phone. "Victor. Bring him to the warehouse." A pause. "I need to see to this one personally." He hangs up, and buzzes the front. "Cancel my appointments for the day."

He turns and picks up his cane and heads towards the elevator in the corner, his fist closing around the diamond topping the cane, knuckles turning white. "Not in my city."

Mr. Pasciak is about to have a very unfortunate final 24 hours of his life.