CH5: Leaving The UK

"Why would you want to adopt me?" Vergil asked.

Steven Strange was a weirdo. She knew that when he opened the door and didn't call security. Then, two days later, he popped the question after his conference and some conversations.

"You're a smart girl; you don't have any parents, it will show people I have a heart, and maybe my house won't be so quiet," Steven said.

"I'm British; there must be some international laws against it. But, then again, I'm from a secret cabal of magical hermaphrodites; why would I have a birth certificate." Vergil said.

"What was that last part?" Dr. Strange asked.

"Full sets fully functional all witches have them. Yes, my biology is completely irregular. I can also bench press a double-decker bus and leap 4 stories in a single bound." Vergil sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes. "I've been alone for the last 5 years. I didn't try to find any more like me because my parents died to a terrorist. She was some bitchy bag of dicks going by something pretentious. I think it was lord floating death by my mother's translation." She pulled her bag close. "I have a lot of baggage."

"Well, you know all that baggage is here in the UK. If you agree to let me adopt you, we'll go to the US, where he will never find you." Strange said.

She deflated on herself. He was right; letting Strange adopt her would help them both out. Steven wasn't the only one who was lonely.

"I can't hypnotize everyone on the plane to let me through, and I'm not good enough at running on water to cross the sea yet," Vergil said.

Dr. Strange swallowed. "Why haven't I heard about witches if your abilities can stand out like that?" Vergil raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting the governments of the world and the cabal, as you call them, have an arrangement."

"Why else aren't perfect hermaphrodite births recorded as an uncommon, if natural, occurrence. I've seen others who have lived in the cabal for so long society has left them behind. There could be many small groups hidden out of sight. The city has hard light illusions resembling brick walls; entry is impossible without passwords. Imagine a gated community of those beyond the super-rich or the politicians. Another class, the reality-warping rich, stands above all others with their own segregation system." Vergil said.

"I think that's enough sugar for today. Here is a ticket; I had a patient who owed me his life forge a passport. You may need to hypnotize some people." Dr. Strange paused. "Are you hypnotizing me?"

"Yea, all the time, but it doesn't seem to work. Like when I try to get you to take my theories seriously, the hypnotism bounces off your mind like water off a duck's back." Strange crossed his arms, and Vergil sighed. "No, adopting me was a mad product of your mind, not mine. I was happy to live alone and steal my way into the millionaires club like an honest street urchin." Vergil said.

"You will need to pack light for our trip." Strange gave her instructions on airport security.

Vergil paid attention before mentally sighing. She had a lot of pretty Rolexes and diamond necklaces, and earrings. The witch was going to have to pawn them or toss them. The last thing she needed was to have them discovered by airport security. The same with the sub-machineguns, m1911, rocket launcher, and her favorite switchblade. In exchange, she was going to the gun capital of the world. Maybe it would be better if she sold her current stock and exchanged pounds for dollars for the states.

It was August of 2002 when she arrived. British airport security was thorough, but a little hypnotism and being a pretty red-headed girl melted most hearts. Her emerald green eyes were practically weaponized cuteness by themselves. All it took was a glance to implant these aren't the droids you're looking for. She had gone through so many employees that she had gotten some good practice.

When they landed in Newyork City was a huge dirty crime-infested city. It reminded her of young London, except the buildings were taller. She could already see herself stealing everything not nailed down. A war was on, and it was time to gather capital to invest. From her last count, she had just under 50,000 from 5 years of robbing the moderately wealthy and giving to herself.

"I would like it if you didn't steal anymore. You'll find I have more than enough money to afford anything you need." Vergil frowned, causing Dr. Strange to sigh. "Don't give me that the last thing I need is FBI agents knocking on my door or, worse, the CIA to recruit you as an interrogator."

That significantly slowed her down. She didn't know the market or what cycle it was on. The most she could expect after she got her barrings was to make around 20% if she invested everything and did things right. Vergil would have to hold on to her money and wait if it was a bull market like she suspected.

She wanted to be rich with the backing of her own corporation, like Tony Stark; that man was a hero. He had money, girls, technology, and celebrity status. So when she thought of a winner, someone to emulate Tony Stark was the man. She liked Dr. Strange, but he wasn't Tony Stark; on the other hand, Steven had his own merits that she liked. While Tony might have a similar drive, Dr. Strange wore his on his sleeve. The man was a life-saving machine with the hands of a god.

"It's not about the money right now. Before I build an investing game plan, I need to look at the market to see what season we're in." Vergil said.

Vergil knew the war in Iraq was ramping up, and military tech was making money hand over fist. It wouldn't be a good idea to shove her money in a company until she had a lay of the land. Maybe she could start up her own how hard could it be?