Who’s Your Daddy?
BjorkeA | June 03 , 2009
Categories: BjorkeA, Journals Tags: Bjorke, Carlo, Shaw
Bjorke sat, perched on the edge of her desk where Dell had left her, the parchment in her hand. It had been years… decades since she had seen a “Wanted” poster like this. It had been part of distraction then – a bit of misdirection to hide a larger plot. And now? She frowned. Two reasons: it could be Shaw wanting to manipulate her. He certainly didn’t like her having the upper hand. Or, it could be Carlo, but why? She hoped it was Shaw. Hell, it even had his likeness on it. Thank the gods Lauradell had seen it and brought it to her.
“Pippa, I have to go run an errand. Wash the dishes when you are done. Don’t open the door. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Where are you going?” Pippa was always full of questions, which made things rather awkward at times. When she had been a child, she grew up surrounded by secrets and non-disclosures, so it was learned early on when not to ask.
“I have to go talk to someone about a job I’m working on.” It, at least, was the truth. She was now working on finding out the truth behind why her adoptive father’s picture was on a “Wanted” poster.
“Hero, guard.” The dog looked at his mistress, flicking his ear in doggy-salute. He knew his job well. No one would come – or go – until Bjorke returned.
It was easy enough to make it through Stormwind. She wasn’t in uniform and on foot instead of her highly-visible goat. Alright, so it helped she had pulled on a hooded cloak and stuck to the alleyways. However, her efforts were thwarted by the crush of people surrounding SI:7 headquarters. She cursed softly in Orcish, forgetting her hearthstone was on. Since Pippa had become her ward, she now left it on constantly. Well, nearly constantly.
“What was that?” came Feerra’s voice.
Blast it. “That was too many blasted people around.”
Laughter and joking soon followed. “You expected otherwise in Stormwind?”
The other voices took up comparing tales of evidence of idiots in the city, leaving Bjorke to puzzle through what to do on her own. A drink. Or six. She headed for the Pig, then changed her mind, choosing instead one of the seedier taverns. Perhaps she might hear something that would shed light on this poster.
The gods seemed to be conspiring against her. The tavern was nearly empty. No gossip to be had. Two hours and half a bottle of bourbon later, and Bjorke headed back to Old Towne. By now, the crowds had gone. Shaw would still be around, at least, he usually was. Bjorke snorted. “Just my luck tonight if he went home early.”
His lackeys didn’t even question her. That wasn’t a good sign. He must be expecting her. Sure enough, he even had a bottle and two glasses on his desk. She raised an eyebrow at him, but they both knew why she was here. Bjorke closed the door, took the offered glass and sat, propping her long legs up on his desk. “What the hell is going on, Mathias?” She never was one for small talk.
The man grinned at her, tugging at his mustache. He liked the power games as much as she did. Obviously, he was damned good at them, or he wouldn’t be in charge of SI:7. “I thought you might tell me.”
Bjorke scowled darkly. “You’re the one who put up the bloody poster.”
Shaw sat back in his chair, putting his own boots up. “Saw that, did you?”
Of course she’d seen it and he knew she had. But it wouldn’t do to lose her temper so quickly. “I’m thinking of papering my daughter’s room with them. Got any more?”
A flicker crossed his face. Ah, so not all news traveled quickly. He hadn’t heard that yet. For a man who delighted in finding out all he could about people, he’d missed a fact. A glimmer of satisfaction showed in Bjorke’s face. “Just the one, then? Well, it worked. You have my attention.”
He tipped his head back and laughed loudly. “I am going to miss our fun, doll.”
“Oh, hadn’t you heard? I’m not retiring.” She was smug once more.
But so was he, in his perverse sadistic way. He wasn’t happy about the news, but there was nothing he could do about it. “You think his lordship’s going to let you keep playing these games?” Oh, yes. He’d done his homework.
It was a rather menacing glare she shot him, indignance and righteous fury on her face, covering the trace of worry. She tipped back her glass, swallowing half the amber liquid in a gulp. “What’s it going to cost me?”
There was that sly smirk again. He had her, and he knew it. “You know how these things work, doll. Favors aren’t determined in advance. I say ‘jump,’ you jump.” He raised his glass in salute before taking a drink, savoring the taste before swallowing. It was good bourbon. It ought to be, he’d confiscated it from her. At least, that was the official reason why he had a case of Durotar bourbon.
Bjorke nodded. What could she do? It wasn’t the first time she’d owed him a huge favor, nor, she suspected, would it be the last. Well, unless ‘his lordship’ intervened.
“Right.” He was ready to work, now that the upper hand had been established. Shaw addressed his drink. “I had to put up a poster. Orders from higher up.” Considering there were very few “higher up,” this told Bjorke it was serious. “Of course,” and there was that sly grin again as he looked at her. “I wasn’t told how many.” He seemed disappointed she didn’t respond, and so he continued. “He attacked Baron Warrick in his home. Sloppy job – didn’t hide who he was, left plenty of witnesses and didn’t even finish the job.”
From the sounds of it, Shaw wouldn’t have been mourning the loss of this particular noble.
“What in the bloody blue blazes is he up to?” She was more musing aloud than asking Shaw.
“You’d better find out. If this isn’t taken care of soon, I’ll be forced to take steps myself.”
Bjorke knew exactly what he meant and it wasn’t good. And that meant, a trip home to see Daddy was in order.
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