25 - Bickering//Foley

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Navy snipped as soon as Deanney walked back into the room. She ignored him, briskly walking past and handing her phone to Mr. Foley.

"There's no doubt about it, it's him," she said, showing them a picture of a young man surrounded by older intellectual types. He was holding up an oversized medal and smiling. "Paxton Phipps, also known as The Man of Manx."

"The man of manics?" Navy said, Mr. Foley put up a hand to shush him.

"The Man of Manx?" Mr. Foley said, examining the photo and comparing it to the young man who was scarfing down Cheesy Bits in his guest room via their surveillance camera. Though the boy in the photo was a few years younger, it was an exact match.

"The award-winning reclusive translator who specialises in all forms of ancient Godeillic languages," Deanney confirmed. "This is the only known photo anyone has on file of him accepting an award in person."

"A teenager translated this?" Mr. Foley asked incredulously, holding up The Stones of Transformation.

"I remembered a friend of mine mentioning that a young girl had come to him late last year to help her locate The Man of Manx," she said. "He dropped her off right outside his apartment building."

"You think that's where they're hiding the other stones?" Mr. Foley asked.

"Exactly," Deanney said proudly. Mr. Foley smiled proudly, but Navy didn't seem so convinced.

"That's all well and good sir," he said. "But what do we do with the boy now? It's clear he's not going to respond to Ms. Lacombe's 'interrogation techniques'."

The air quotes he put around the last two words were large and wide, ensuring that Ms. Lacombe got the message. Mr. Foley could tell that even this was an affront to Ms. Lacombe's ability in it's own way.

"We can't just hold on to him without going through the proper channels," he argued.

Mr. Foley had never seen Navy behave with such passion before. The young man was a hard worker, full of drive, but he wasn't emotionally mature enough to hide his true feelings just yet.

"Ms. Lacombe will take her men, who I assume are still on the clock considering how much we paid them, and examine the apartment," he said.

"They are," Deanney confirmed. "On the clock, that is."

"After that, she'll come back here and interrogate the boy more thoroughly," Mr. Foley said, setting down the two stones. The ball was in their court now. "Now I've got to get to work."

"Paradox City can't function without me, after all."

-HEIST_ON-

The sudden, frantic sound of the locks being opened distracted Paxton from his panicked thoughts. Though the woman had left without saying much, he could remember that she'd brought in muscled goons to try and capture Nora and Lea.

It was only a matter of time before they were promising to rearrange his face if he didn't talk.

When the three locks opened, a young man in a white shirt and black waistcoat quickly snuck into the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

"Don't worry," he said nervously. "They're gone."

"They?" Paxton asked, sitting up straight.

"The boss and Ms. Lacombe," he explained. "I'm Navy, Navy Dempsey."

"I can get you out of here."