Log Title: Checking on Zandar
Location: Abandoned Gas Station - New Jersey
Date: September 09, 2016
Summary: Hannibal checks on Zandar's progress with the New York gangs.
As logged by Hannibal - Friday, September 09, 2016, 9:27 PM
Abandoned Gas Station - New Jersey
- The Dreadnoks' lair is a seemingly abandoned gas station in the middle of the New Jersey Pine Barrens. While the outside looks dilapidated and abandoned, the inside is better maintained, if still full of trash and empty hard grape soda bottles. The large garage usually contains a Thunder Machine, a couple of Dreadnok Cycles, a full set of tools and spare parts, and a 4WD vehicle. Rooms in the back allow Dreadnoks to live here and sleep it off - nice ones for Zartan's family, and shabbier group rooms for the rest of the gang.
It has been a very productive day. Zandar is dozing in one of the back rooms, luxuriating in sleep, rest, and relaxation. He snores lightly, head resting on a comfortable pillow just for him. The pressures of the day are gone.
A different sort of pressure arrives at the gas station, after driving shirtless through the Jersey pine forest. Hannibal pulls up outside, parking his bike and climbing off in one smooth motion. He adjusts his leather jacket over his bare chest and checks the back pocket of his tight jeans. Poking out of the top of that pocket is a blue bandana - the same one Zandar gave him six years ago. Avoiding Zartan's tricks and traps, Hannibal approaches the gas station and raps lightly on the door.
The sound travels through the hideout and into Zandar's blissful sleepiness. He shifts position, himself quite shirtless and revealing his various tattoos, "Whoizzit?" he calls half-asleep, rolling over, "I gave orders to be left alone!" Zandar utters miserably and buries his head in the pillow. There is no answer at the door yet.
Hannibal crouches down to peer at the lock on the gas station door. It's a complicated lock, and knowing Zartan, likely more than it seems. Not wanting to risk endangering himself or the Dreadnoks, Hannibal simply reaches into his leather jacket's inner pocket and pulls out a small phone running Extensive Mobile' newest cellular technology. He calls Zandar's phone, smiling as he listens for a ring inside the base.
There's a very faint ring, and an irate voice that yawns and echoes sleepily through the base and the phone, "What?" he answers, completely unaware of who it is. Zandar pulls himself to a sitting position and tugs on a robe. He yawns again, politely away from the phone.
"Good evening," Hannibal says smoothly. "Did I wake you?" he asks rhetorically, sounding faintly amused as he often does. Hannibal turns his back to the base, gazing out into the woods while he listens on the phone. His piercing gaze flicks over to his lone motorcycle as he listens to the sounds within the base, gaging how many, if any, other Dreadnoks are at home now. The night seems peaceful, but you never know when danger might strike. Hannibal has learned to always be aware of the positions of potential allies and enemies.
"Hannibal?" the voice on the other end of the phone is surprised, "A little. I was napping... Come inside. There's no one else here," Zandar looks around the base, remembering that he's sent them away so he could nap in peace. Zandar rushes to make himself presentable for the young conqueror, remembering their words to each other the last time they spoke. Zandar triggers some inner mechanism in the base that remotely unlocks the door.
Hannibal hears the door unlock and lets himself in, stepping carefully around the garbage and oil slicks and making his way back to meet Zandar. "Hello!" he calls out just before he enters the room, having learned not to startle heavily armed terrorists even if they know he's coming. Hannibal sticks his handsome head in the door and gives Zandar a winning smile. "Enjoy your nap?" he asks teasingly, with just the touch of a smirk on his face.
"Welcome to our Jersey Forest base," Zandar says, smiling back at Hannibal as he pokes his head through the door, "It's so good to see you," he says warmly, again wanting just to touch that handsome face, the luxuriously black hair... Yes, a different kind of pressure indeed has arrived at the base, "I'd offer you something, but all we have are hard grape sodas and chocolate donuts."
Hannibal chuckles. "It's OK - I've already eaten. I've come by to check on your progress, Zandar, and to see if I could lend you any help." Hannibal looks Zandar over, his intense gaze seeming to pierce the Dreadnok right down to the soul. Hannibal leans in the doorway, his relaxed body language in direct contrast to his barely contained power. "How's it been going in New York?" he asks. "Any problems?" He gives Zandar a reassuring smile.
The Dreadnok is unnerved by that gaze, yet at the same time, it's not altogether unpleasant to be searched to the soul by this man. Zandar shakes off a shiver as Hannibal takes up ownership of the doorway. His eyes flit as he takes in the bare chest beneath the leather jacket, "The usual complaints. This gang is on that gang's turf. Somebody wants to break into somebody else's market. I've made clear that the Dreadnoks are not to be challenged. Half of them didn't believe I was Zartan's brother," Zandar grouses, "The other half didn't believe he HAD a brother," Zandar grits his teeth and sighs through them, "I made it clear that *I* was in charge regardless," he hisses darkly.
Hannibal nods. "Good. It's time you made a name for yourself. It'll be tough at first, but I'll have your back. If a show of strength is required, you have my leave to break some heads. We want this city to be a tinderbox ready to explode. If you want to throw some gasoline on that fire, be my guest." He smiles. "You were correct to ensure that the Dreadnoks themselves are above the fray. The gangs can challenge each other, but the Dreadnoks must reign supreme."
"You'd make a great Dreadnok leader," Zandar says heretically, "But, I realize you have other obligations," he sounds a little disappointed at this, "It was tough going today but I made it through," Zandar grins, and once again feels the stark, barely constrained power of Hannibal and swallows. He begins, quietly, "If you'd like to stay tonight, tomorrow I can start lessons on camouflage and social concealment... There's enough room for you, or we can..." he forces himself to look Hannibal in those piercing eyes.
"I actually have more business in the city," Hannibal teasingly deflects. "But we can definitely start training tomorrow if all is in readiness with the gangs. I'm proud of you, Zandar. You've really stepped up when leadership was needed. No longer will you live in your siblings' shadows. I'm building an army, Zandar, and you are an important part of it. When Cobra takes over the world, they'll be bigger things for you than just this simple motorcycle gang." He doesn't take his gaze off Zandar.
Zandar takes in every word, feeling more and more powerful, and yet, "Oh," dismay and disappointment is clear in his voice, but not at all at the news there will be much bigger things in the future of Cobra, "I want my sister by my side," he says, barely aware of what he's saying, "If she can be enticed.." And indeed, Zandar himself is enticed by this idea and this man both, "I wish you could stay, spend more time together," he bursts forth the words, "Hannibal, I care about what the future holds with Cobra and the Dreadnoks, but I also care about *you* - -I desire all of these things you say... but I also desire you..." he finally drops his gaze, "I know," he shakes his head...
Zandar says, "I want you in that future. I want Zarana in that future."
"I know all these things, Zandar," Hannibal says calmly. "And there may be a place for Zarana in the new army, and a place for you at my side. For now, however, work comes before pleasure. Ensure Cobra's plan goes off without a hitch, and there will be … rewards." His smile offers up such decadent promises that a trip to the gates of hell might be a worthwhile trade. "Tell me, however, Zandar. If your brother Zartan gets in the way - what then?" Hannibal raises a perfect eyebrow testingly.
Zandar smiles a shy, decadent smile in response, "Work before pleasure? No problem with that... but don't forget that I'm human.. I have need of...things..." As Hannibal speaks, however, Zandar's smile fades, his expression darkens, "Then he dies," the brother of Zartan says with such coldness that one might believe them not to be brothers at all -- for one so bent on fratricide of the other, "I won't allow him to interfere."
Hannibal smiles, looking pleased. "Good. I demand complete loyalty, and you will be rewarded for yours. Still, ideally it won't come to that - your brother can be a reasonable man, as long as he doesn't become jealous of your ascendance." Hannibal straightens up and adjusts his jacket again over his bare chest. "I must go attend to some of my business and military needs now, but perhaps later they'll be time to address your more physical needs." Hannibal winks brazenly. "Until then, I bid you good night."
Zandar opens his mouth to say more, but just stops as if lightning has struck him, and it's apparent all over his face, "Good-night -- Hannibal. You have my loyalty... and every aspect of me is yours..." he swallows, his throat very dry. He can say no more, completely taken aback and thrilled at the same time.
"Excellent." Hannibal looks like he's gotten exactly what he's wanted. He pulls from his pocket the blue bandana Zandar gave him six years ago. "Until then, I will keep this as a reminder." He flips the kerchief out with a flourish, and bows, before tucking it in the inside pocket of his jacket and heading out. He leaves the door open behind him, and strides back out to his motorcycle. Mounting it in one fluid motion, he roars out of the Pine Barrens and back into the city.
Zandar watches after Hannibal, haunted and touched by that gesture. He'd kept it the whole time...