Danger and the Power, Friend and Foe ((64))

[victoriousscarf]

Mistoffelees glanced around the Palace as he slipped inside. It was verging on early enough in the evening that not a lot of cats were in, but Jones' goons were certainly out in force, and they all watched him as he entered. Swallowing he continued his way up to Jones' office, realizing he was an utter and complete idiot--and Coricopat was going to kill him when he figured it out.

Several of the goons fell in step behind him and his tail twitched both in agitation and the remembrance of it being broken not too long ago. Knocking on Jones' office, he glanced back at them warily, and they entered when he did.

"Ah, Mistoffelees," Jones drawled, looking up at his entrance, as the goons moved to stand in front of the door, blocking the smaller tom's only route out. "Good to see you. To what do I owe this?"

Shoulders tense Mistoffelees looked around. "It was you who had Maggie Howe's tail broken, wasn't it?" he asked.

Jones only smirked at that. "And if it was? What do you think you have any chance of doing?"

"Why then?"

Leaning back, Jones looked him over. "She had to pay for disrespecting me, didn't she?" He titled his head and the smirk turned into an almost feral grin. "Besides, it got you to me."

Mistoffelees leaned back on his heels. "And why would that matter?"

"That, you'll find out later," Jones informed his nephew as one of the goons moved forward to knock said nephew unconscious. "If you're awake by then."

[victoriousscarf]

Misto woke up, groaning a little. He only vaguely had an idea what was going on, beyond the fact that his head was pounding with pain. His head flopping forward, he forced his eyes open, to realize he was tied to a chair. He twitched his shoulders, testing the ropes and groaned again. Memories started filtering through his fogged brain. His ribs ached and he wondered if they’d done anything else besides slam his head. Frowning, he saw a pair of spats in front of him, from where his eyes were looking at the ground. He lifted his head to find himself looking at his uncle. “Oh,” he managed. “Right.”

“You were out for over an hour there,” Jones chortled, seeing his nephew awake. “I was almost starting to worry.”

“You hit me over the head and then worry?” Misto forced past his dry throat. “Glad to know you care.”

Jones’ eyes narrowed. “I would not press your luck, you know,” he said.

“Press my…” Misto shook his head and regretted the motion. “I’m tied to a chair. I assume you want something?” His ribs throbbed again, pressure put on them from where the ropes were digging into his stomach.

Jones leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want the Hidden Paw.”

Mistoffelees blinked at him, and sucked in a deep breath. “You want the… and why am I here?”

“Because I told Coricopat Zimmerman I have you.”

Misto’s heart skipped a beat and he sucked in another breath. “So?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jones started to protest.

“All evidence to the contrary,” Misto muttered.

Jones stepped forward, backpawing him across the face.

Misto coughed, and turned angry eyes back to his uncle. He growled at the large cat.

Jones sniffed at his nephew. “As I was saying… I hardly thing at this point you think I am not aware of your relationship with said cat.”

“’s not something I would call a relationship,” Misto muttered again, sucking on one of his cheeks, tasting blood a little. He had not been expecting that—despite everything Jones had done to him, physically hitting him had not been one of them before. Of course, before a little while ago his uncle had never sent goons after him either...

Jones hardly looked impressed. “Whatever you call it, I have evidence to suggest he’ll come after you. And then I’ll have you and him. I wonder how much leverage that would create with the hidden paw?”

Growling at him again, Misto could feel his head swim. “Not much,” he said and tried not to take too much joy in the way Jones’ face contorted at that.

“You’re bluffing,” Jones said. “Not even bluffing, you just are saying that in the strange hope it might get you out of this.”

“Or just letting you know what a moron you are,” Mistoffelees snapped, wishing he could rest his head against something.

Jones growled at him.

Mistoffelees winced, hoping his uncle was not planning on hitting him again. His head was still ringing from the last blow.

[Meadowlark]

There was a sharp rapping on the door before it opened and Coricopat stepped in, closing it behind him. The Palace was almost in full-swing below, the crowd and noise having helped him get in with little to no detection. "Hello, Jones."

[victoriousscarf]

Misto's head snapped over to him and he regretted the motion instantly as it made his vision blur a little. "Co--what the hell are you doing?"

Jones' smirk only grew, as he leaned against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest again. "Mr. Zimmerman." He frowned a little when he realized the other wasn't escorted by his guards. He'd thought he left orders for them to escort the other in, not let him waltz around the place.

[Meadowlark]

Cori locked the door a cold smirk falling into place on his features. No need for them to be disturbed before he was done, "I seem to recall telling you what would happen if you did anything further to him." He moved over, keeping one eye on Bustopher while he set to work on Misto's bonds.

[victoriousscarf]

Misto glanced back at him. "What the hell are you doing here?" he repeated, head still swimming.

Jones frowned, noticing the locked door. "I'm not sure what you think you can do to me here," he huffed, eyeing the door again.

[Meadowlark]

"Oh, I'm sure I can figure something out." Cori finally got the last of the knots undone. "Mistoffelees, I'm assuming you know the quickest way out of here?"

[victoriousscarf]

Jones finally stood straight. "How dare you, if you think you can just breeze in here and..."

Misto, meanwhile, stumbled out of the chair, head still woozy and his ribs hurting, but he was able to stand if not particularly straight. "Yeah," he said in answer to Coricopat's question. "Course I do."

[Meadowlark]

Cori's grey eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm done with you yet, Jones?" He glanced at his...cat, what was he supposed to call him... "Go keep an ear to that door, let me know if anyone's coming. Unlock the door, we'll need to move quickly and I'd prefer not to be fumbling with it."

[victoriousscarf]

Misto could feel his stomach flip, and took a tottering step toward the door, leaning against it, as much to listen as to support himself.

Jones eyed the pair warily. "Oh? So what makes you think you can do anything to me? Here of all places?"

[Meadowlark]

Coricopat moved over in front of the other, withdrawing his revolver from its underarm holster. "I only need one shot."

[victoriousscarf]

Jones' face paled dramatically. "You cannot be serious... this is a fine joke Zimmerman but if you really think..."

"What?" Mistoffelees managed from the door and then paled. "I think I hear people coming..."

[Meadowlark]

"I told you I wouldn't take kindly to harm coming to him again." He drew back the hammer of the gun, placing it between the tuxedo tom's eyes.

"Good evening, Jones." He pulled the trigger, whirling away from the body to leave. "Fastest way out of here?"

[victoriousscarf]

For a moment Misto just stared between him and the body wide eyed before wrenching the door open. "This way," he said, taking a quick left and heading away from the stairs that he could hear yells coming from. He stumbled once, catching himself on Coricopat, his other paw coming up to wrap around his stomach as he hissed in pain.

[Meadowlark]

Cori caught him, supporting him. "Shh. We'll get you to Cohen as soon as we're out and away from here." He glanced back over his shoulder, they'd best get moving if there was going to be an away. He was doing his best to ignore the expression he had seen flicker across the other's face in the office.