InsaneJournal

Current mood:	working
Entry tags:	any man of mine, in my time of dying, max, nano, stephen, work

Section 2 (instalment 1)
Word count: 1 520


Max's first stop for the day was the office building. He had to pick up the two kids (well, they were, though he'd never call them that anywhere around them) of his department who'd be completing the security group for 'Stephen' for the meeting, and the two (hah, handwritten, which they may have found odd when they each first started but he was positive they no longer did) briefing files. The information they'd get to read about what might be coming their way which they'd have to go through while they drove to the LaMarcks' residence. It was a policy that had proven to be almost more important than any other. Keep the staff under you informed as much as possible to make sure they don't panic at the unknown and unexpected. Not enough for any of them to be in danger of kidnapping or attempts at subversion, but enough and on time for them to have time to process and react accordingly.

He couldn't even recall which one of them had been the one to make sure that was a global policy for the company. It was... almost sub-conscious by now. For both him and Stephen.

Even if not all employees of Archer Imports even knew about what exactly the extra security was for, or even what some of the extra security personnel could do... extra, they all knew that nothing was spared to make sure things were running smoothly and safely. That was one of the reasons they trusted Stephen, he was the one who made sure that was always the case as far as he could reach (and, on certain occasions, he could reach to protect his people even in their private lives. Not that many were aware of that, more of the fact that he would always know and pay attention when somebody was really in trouble); and in that aspect, Max was the tool he used to make sure of that. To bring up the measures that need to be taken. To be the one who learned what was going on and let him know. To organize the protection in the most effective way. To make sure nothing was missed. Max wouldn't touch the business aspect of the whole thing with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole; or the majority of the human resources aspect (well, not the hiring bit, except for the security staff). But he'd be attentive and helpful about the logistics aspect, and as good as he had to be, and better, at his own aspect.

Making sure people X and item(s) Y got from point A to point B. In one piece each. Between the scale of the entire work, and the actual danger that some of the jobs could be, it wasn't a job to be done by just anybody. But he could, and he did it well, and he knew it. Behind the ability to laugh and make people easy and get things done, his mind about what he was committed to was relentless. Which was why Stephen had him where he was. Closer than almost anybody else, in fact. Information-wise, possibly one person was closer, and that was only because Max insisted.

Little had he known how trusted he'd be, when he'd first walked those corridors. He'd been a ridiculous twenty. Earned his stole only two years earlier. Having been on... a few jobs, done well enough despite the fact that some of them had been a disaster. And he'd heard there would be a job that needed extra hands, here, and had showed up to offer his services for the run.

Those had been absurdly dangerous runs too. From his current point of view. Absurdly vulnerable, at least. Decades, no, a century and more of working this and making sure they stayed as safe as possible had taught him a lot of how little he'd known back then. Made him all too aware now that it was more than a little likely that there was at least as much more to learn yet. (That's one of the reasons he never stopped reading. Or thinking. Or questioning. Or otherwise acquiring new knowledge. And then applying what he'd learned. Stay alive. Keep those you're responsible for alive. Get back and report, draw conclusions, let Stephen draw his. Lather, rinse, repeat.) But he'd been so good at them too, and LaMarck, oh yes, LaMarck had recognized that, even if the discrepancy between the façade and the abilities had taken him aback, confused him, made him wary at first. (And then, that had been before the war started. And the war had made all things... so much more perilous.)

Not many were quite that startled by the difference. But then again, not many were how Stephen was and always would be; nor many bothered to really look into those abilities and appreciate just how wide they went over that first assignment, and then the few over the years that followed. Sometimes Max would show up; other times LaMarck would contact him. Start getting him involved in the planning phase, and one didn't do that with mercenaries, but the new owner of Archer Imports was changing things, and it seemed that was one of them. In a way, he was changing the game.

Looking back, it seemed to Max it must have been a heavy load over those young shoulders. That was, looking back fondly. He'd done really well, after all.

And then had come that job offer which changed Max's life. Not that either of them knew how much, back then. Not even Max, who'd been more than slightly surprised. He'd... for almost a decade then, he'd been building the life of magical-security muscle out for hire. On the go, drifting with the needs of the job. He'd cut ties to home so long ago he almost never even thought about it anymore. And now he was offered a job...

A respectable job. Since Stephen had managed to establish his way of work, working for him would be something that he knew would be totally different from what he'd ever done before. If he could keep it (and there was just about only one way Max would lose a job by that time. Still the only way. Still had not happened, and now he had solemn promises from his boss, wife, and eldest daughter that they'd kill him if he let it happen, too. And those were three people whose threats were something to be reckoned with). It had been confusing for him for a while. He'd not been seeking a job like that. He was settled in the inconstant way of life, he was comfortable in it. Why change?

Stephen had not answered that. In their ... interview, Stephen had been testing, trying his prospective employee - and when he had started to process, Max had been trying his prospective employer in turn.

For what he did, there was no way anything would work in the long run without trust that went both ways.

Stephen LaMarck had not answered the 'why change' question - because he'd known as well as Max himself that there was nobody else who could answer it but Max. Instead, he'd offered what Max hadn't even been aware he'd been looking for.

Somebody to be loyal to.

Somebody to not betray. Who wouldn't betray him in turn, in any way that mattered. (Hitting on the same woman for example, when it happened, didn't count. Off-hours was fair game.)

And Max had grown to be fiercely loyal. And he was proud of that, too. Right there on par with how good he was at what he did, and he had self-assurance enough to be well aware that good? He was. Not many even of his ilk, that is, wizards, lived on it this long. Oh he could be modest alright, he had shortcomings aplenty. But not about this, not about his work. Nor... a few other things.

He shook his head, pulling up in front of the building. Which was why on such a short notice as yesterday he'd insisted on a ruse which made things more complicated today. There were gaps in the information. He'd seen them, he was pretty certain that his boss had seen it too. Maybe they were unimportant. Or maybe what was in those gaps had gotten his hackles up as the meeting approached. But no goods, no VIP - usually ended up being enough for turning away the actual danger.

His thought strayed to what he knew was in the box which Stephen was probably heading to the cathedral to deliver to his second business contact right now. Or soon would be. What he didn't know, he couldn't tell, no matter the methods of questioning. (And Stephen had grown to hate that argument over the decades. Not for the shutting off of information. Because of the implication of methods of questioning. Max was, at least, an employee - and part of why Stephen wanted the best for that job was because he was protective of his men, after all.)
Much safer that way.

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