2013.08.31 - A Deal in the Making

The office of the Freelance Peacekeeping Agent, Death's Head is... rather simple considering it's inhabitant, a time-traveling mechanoid from the year 8653. It's a small 200 sq ft wooden office in a bad neighborhood in Metropolis. A simple executive desk sits in front of a simple set of windows with a cut vinyl lettering that says. "Death's Head: Freelance Peace Keeping Agent." A set of reinforced steel chairs sit in front of the desk and behind it. On the desk itself, a simple police scanner sits on one side of it. On the other side a cheap laptop, they may or may not be connected to the internet. Next to the edge is a small coffee mug that says "DH."

Against both adjoining walls are a few file cabinets that look at least fifteen years old. On one wall the shield, cap and weapons that are normally adorn his back are hanging. Though considering the special nature of their owner they are still easily in reach from where he sits behind the desk.

His frosted glass door has a similar cut vinyl on it: Death's Head Freelance Peace Keeping Agent No Contract Too Small.

Death's sat at his desk and waited, listening to the police scanner and searching the web wirelessly at the same time. As he did he was examining his missing left hand prodding at it with a sonic screwdriver he had gotten on a job once.

Finding the place is a bit difficult but publically Lex Luthor isn't really seen in this side of metropolis. It's not that he couldn't handle his own. Far from, but spending all the time just fending off people that think they have a chance. Knocking at the metal doors and noting the frosted glass Lex waits while dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, matching button up vest, and leather gloves that match the suit he waits to hear the okay from Death's Head. In his hand is a haliburton that holds a little incentive to the thing that does some odd deeds.

Death's Head took his feet off the desk, put the sonic screwdriver down and took a more rigid posture behind his desk. "*It's unlocked, yes?*" his synthesized voice let out.

He red eyes tightened as he awaited the door to open. He had no problem with unexpected costumers, if was unexpected SWORD agents that wanted to dissect him he had a problem with. He had already -dealt- with a few of those.

Walking into the room those green eyes examining the robot that is hard to peg the make, model or even where it is from. Still he sits down and waits for the robot to greet him, "I have a job for you and it isn't exactly ethical, but it does pay well." A raised eyebrow goes to the robot, "Everything is discrete of course. I have no connections to this operation. If anything falls apart on your end then our deal is renigged and I may take out interest depending on how bad it is. IF you've done well then we can talk about potential bonuses."

Death's Head scanned Lex just as Lex was eyeing him, "Alexander "*Lex" Luthor, media mogul, technocrat and entrepreneur, eh? Prefers to be called Lex, hates aliens, builds robots and armors well as many consumer products.*"

He stood to his feet though both his hands (or lack thereof) were hidden behind the desk, "*Even where I am from, you are remembered. Loose morals also noted, yes?*"

Without moving anything, his synthetic voice stated, "*What's the job? I do want you to know that taking me apart to jump your technological level up is not a job I am willing to take, eh?*"

"No. I need something liberated from a highly secure area," Lex continues noting that his reputation supercedes him even by future standards. "You can take what you wish from the area as a bonus but what I need are two specific things. There could be more like it and in which case the pay you receive will increase," he looks to Death's Head, "And if you do the impossible and bring me the plans for everything then I will give you nearly anything you could ask for," and yes what Lex wants is worth that price tag to him. Still one has to be sure that the hiring party is intrigued by the pay to not question the job too much.

Death's head picks up the coffee mug with the 'DH' on it. As he does, the lower part of his face plate; the part with the horns and slots, lifts up and a technological wonderland is revealed, with a single orifice of metal that pulls out slightly as 'he' 'drinks' from the mug. As he 'drinks' a set of flashing lights around the orifice states, "*That is an interesting proposition Mr. Luthor.*"

He finishes 'drinking' from the mug and as he does the face plate lowers again, "*But why come to me, a freelance peacekeeping agent? Or in more common venacular, a 'freelance cop,' yes?*"

"Because what I want you to liberate is a crime against humanity when one thinks about it. A man lords over a byproduct of scientific endeavor that can save the world because he doesn't wish to see the negative effects of testing it before it is perfected. And yet this man can stand to have penicillin, and other advances," Lex's voice had risen at parts and he composes himself, "Ever hear of a man called Dr. Richards? He's quite famous," he pauses and waits for the robot to compute. "I need something liberated from his home. A few things in fact."

Death's Head's synthesized laughter is a bit creepy, to be honest. As if a humor subroutine was an afterthought grafted onto whatever other programming his sentient AI was capable of.

"*Crimes against 'humanity.' I keep forgetting how crypto-racist Earth is during this time period. But I don't care about politics, yes? To me only thing I care about is if you have something to pay me with. And you Mr. Luthor have something to pay me with.*"

He titled his head slightly when Reed Richards was mentioned, "*I have researched Dr. Richards and his team. He is one of the five people on this planet... in this time period that I need help from. So you are lucky Mr. Luthor that you are also on that list, because I prefer not to make enemies of the organics that I may need help from.*"

He pulls his right hand up and it is holding an energy weapon of some variety, "*So tell me what you need and how much you are willing to spend and we will talk, yes?*"

Hearing that Lex is one of five people needed makes him smile inwardly. Maybe there could be a compromise on this one. "What do you want me to do for you? I am one of five you say and maybe this could be a mutually beneficial transaction," Lex offers that on the table. He has no clue what the robot wants but it couldn't be worth more than what Lex wanted. At least in his mind anyway.

Putting the gun down onto his desk Death's Head states, "*Let's talk money first. The Baxter Building is one of the most impregnable buildings in the city. It's technology reaches a level 4 on the Kardashev Scale. Current society is at a 0. I was built on a level 8 society. So since you get what you pay for..."

He sat back down. Holding up a stump he seemed to think you would understand and then.... switched what happend, "50 million, yes? I'm worth it."

... switched hand he was holding up, "50 million, yes? I'm worth it."

"What about the thing you want most? I can build that for you," Lex trails knowing the fifty million is worth it but a man has to haggle. He looks to the robot waiting to see what he would think of this offer. The notes about Fantastic Four and their security is taken into account but getting a deal on something is just business.

Death's Head put one hand over his missing hand, "*That is an interesting prospect, yes? Now, Mr. Luthor, I need to know what do you think I want most?*"

The problem with dealing with a mechanoid was that he had no facial ticks or inflections that let a person trained in negotiation know if he was hitting the right or wrong points in the negotiation. Death's Head himself had nearly a century of experience and wasn't letting anything show.

"Obviously your missing hand but then the dilemma comes with having your level eight scale technology from a society that produces zero. But let me ask you something, look through your files and what does it say about me? Don't say it out loud and just process it," if the robot is the real deal then Lex didn't want to know about the future. He looks to the robot, "Out of those five people who would be the most willing to give you the technology that is on par with you own and an upgrade knowing full well that another situation of questionable morality will rise. Will it be Dr. Richards?! No! Will it be Tony Stark?! No! Pym?! Again no. Me on the other hand? I'll do it and your memory can attest to that. If you want that upgrade then good luck going to others."

"*That is all subjective material. Any one of them is willing to help when the timing is right. So, you replace my hand, to my own specifications, Mr. Luthor... after that $50 million, USD, *" Death's Head said seriously, "*No one else is capable of beating the Baxter Building's security and taking down the Fantastic... Six as they are right now.*"

Death's Head looked at his ceiling and said, "Well except... how is he described in your archived logs? The Alien, yes?"

"The hand will begin production today. Immediately. The money comes once I see how well your results are," Lex says to the robot unafraid. "What I need is a radioactive isotope Richards has recreated. One is green, one is gold and there may be other colors. The data on how to recreate these creations would get you anything you want," the words come with the utmost serious tone. In Lex's mind having that knowledge would be on par with having the Holy Grail. The way to actually lill the aliens and whatever else those other colors will do to them. That would be worth the whole price.

Death's Head now walked over to a wall and pulled his cape down and attached it to his shoulders. The shield (with all of it's weapons magnetically attached) followed was put on before it. The energy weapon he was holding was discarded onto the desk, "*The hand will be produced now. The scematics alone are worth 30 million United States Dollars. When it is completed I will test it, and if it does not meet my level of satisfaction the price goes up to 200 million United States Dollars.*"

He looked at Lex, completely in different to it all, "*If the hand works... I reduce my price back down to 50 million USD? Agreed?"

"Seventy-five million, it goes down to seventy five," Lex haggles once again. Even in the face of a robot that could kill him Lex would be the business man. "Although what would it take to pay you to wait for the job?" Lex inquires taking in a new route. Doing this too soon would create some suspicion on Lex given a recent confrontation between the two.

Death's Head's right hand went to rub his 'chin' it was obviously programmed to let humanoids understand 'his' thought processes, "Too wait on the job, I would need the hand tomorrow and /half/ up front, yes?"

He looked back at Lex as his synthesized voice chose more, "But I will take the hand by the end of the week and one third of the payment in advance. I do this only because you are Lex Luthor, eh?"

"A third of the seventy-five million? Done," Lex says going with the cheaper option. He could pay that right now in fact. The hand would be simple enough given the kryptonian technology he has on file, "Schematics on your prior hand would be useful," he says knowing the robot would understand that Lex's brain could understand future schematics.

Death's Head actually snorted, "Give you the limited details, yes? Don't want to pollute timeline more than it already has to be."