'debrief' doesn't mean what you want it to, weiler

[kobacake]

After Weiler and Locke's initial report, it hadn't taken long for the First Circle to verify that, at the very least, the basis for their claims was true. Assessing the true extent of Gladsheim's damage, however, would take much more time. Between sorting out how much of the information they'd been receiving from the Seventh was actually useful, who the traitors within the Seventh were, and forming counter measures against Gladsheim, things around the First were rather hectic. (The reconnaissance members of the First certainly wouldn't be getting a vacation any time soon...)

While they still needed more information before devising a plan against Gladsheim, there were a few variables that the Circle knew exactly how to deal with. Variable 'A' was one Senator Wallabin. With Wallabin as their ally, Gladsheim would have leverage, however little, within the Federation Council. Letting them having any sort of power was a risk the Circle couldn't afford, especially now that the Seventh was compromised. The most logical solution was to put a hit on Wallabin and get rid of the threat he posed, and, of course, the best person for that job was Danny Garamond.

Although it was fairly easy to forget that Danny actually had a job to do around the Circle when he was always strutting around with his brand goods and his little dog, the truth was that he was incredibly skilled as a hitman, and many of the higher priority hits were assigned to him. And so it was that Danny found himself sitting with his arm extended over the back of a black leather couch in a rather swanky bar as he waited to meet with one Heine Haettenschweiler. After all, who better to give him information about his target than the man who planned his daily schedule for the past two years?

Comments

[kobacake]

Danny frowned towards the question, he's glance flattening out into something that showed he thought the answer was obvious. "You only need one bullet to kill someone."

[tactician]

Weiler looked up guilelessly, keeping his eyes trained on Danny as he brought his cup to his lips, taking a polite sip.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said. He would have normally chuckled at Danny's defensiveness, but he was well aware that there weren't many people who would appreciate the humor quite as much as he did. "I meant, I would need to know if you were going with a party or not in order to tell you the best way to get close to the Senator."

[kobacake]

"I don't need to get close to him," Danny responded, reaching over to take a sip from his own glass. On the contrary he preferred to stay as far away from his targets as possible. The less evidence there was that he was involved, the better. "I just need him in my line of sight. Preferably an open area that's secluded, but I know that's probably a long shot."

Tilting his head back he drained the last of his drink, plucking the lime from the side of his glass to eat the fruit (not without making a bit of a face) before placing it back on the counter. "What kind of places does he frequent? Is he alone a lot?"

[tactician]

"That's what I mean," Weiler said, inclining his head to Danny. "Wallabin's a rat of a man. He's incredibly paranoid, doubly so after finding out about me. He won't be making any public appearances for a while yet; he's likely holding off all campaigning until he really needs to do it, and right now, with Gladsheim at his back, he doesn't even need to appeal to any masses in order to get a shoe-in to the Council. When he does make public appearances, he's flanked by a goon squad that tower over him like a human fortress. I don't know if you'll have much luck there."

Weiler turned his glass around in his hand, smearing cold condensation on the insides of his palms. Settling back in his seat, he made a thoughtful sound, idle fingers turning around an unlit cigarette in his free hand. "He'll be keeping mostly to his manor now, but assuming you can get into Gladsheim in its current state, you'd find that he's always holed up in his study. His desk isn't in line with any corner, either. The military built the house, you see. It seems as though Gladsheim had that in mind, too."

[kobacake]

"Ugh..." Danny let out a groan and slumped down a little in his seat, leaning his head back against the couch. "That fucking figures.."

He wasn't surprised really. If he was Wallabin, he would have been doing the same thing. Wallabin had to assume that the Circle would be coming after him, after all. Even so, that didn't help Danny feel any less frustrated. He frowned up at the ceiling, staring at the comfortably dim lights as if trying to think of a solution. He was only quiet for a moment, however, before he asked, "Well? Any suggestions?"

[tactician]

Weiler leaned in a little, smile a little sly. "You can always dress yourself up and get to him through traditional means," he suggested. "And unless you can cook, that really only leaves one option."

[kobacake]

"Oh, hell no." The corner of Danny's mouth pulled back in disgust at just the thought of being in Wallabin's proximity in that sort of scenario. It was highly unlikely he'd even be able to keep up the act for more than 30 seconds even if he did agree to it. "I've seen that guy's picture and there is no fucking way I'd touch that shit with a ten foot pole."

[tactician]

Weiler grinned and sat back, tapping one foot softly against the tiled floor. It seemed as though the Young Master Garamond had quite a set of standards for himself and the things he surrounded himself with, if his way of speaking and dress were any indication, which was not necessarily a bad thing. "That's too bad," he mused, swinging the end of his cigarette back and forth from between two fingers. "He's a sucker for a pretty face and you would have been just his type."

[kobacake]

Danny raised a brow towards the comment, glancing back towards Weiler as he straightened up in his seat again. "Yeah well I work way too hard to waste this--" he made a small sweeping gesture towards himself-- "on that." 'That,' of course, being someone of Wallabin's caliber.

[tactician]

Weiler's brows rose in unspoken amusement. "Oh? What would you 'waste' it on, then?"

weiler are you trying to figure out danny's type

[kobacake]

"Well they'd definitely have to be way younger and cuter."

he tries to figure out everyone's type

[tactician]

A slow, measuring glance slid down Danny from head to toe before Weiler settled back further against the cushions with a playful sigh. "That's too bad," he said, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "You wouldn't even be able to close your eyes and pretend it's someone else once Wallabin put his wrinkly hands on you then."

[kobacake]

Danny actually winced at the thought and ran his thumb and forefinger over his eyes like he hoped he could erase that image from his mind. "Ok, wow. I fucking hate you so much right now. Why are we even talking about this?"

[tactician]

Weiler grinned, toothy and eyes closed. "Merely discussing the best way to approach the Senator, I thought?"

[kobacake]

"I'm not trying to approach him. I'm trying to kill him." Danny looked up at Weiler again and frowned. He was a little frustrated that in this scenario he'd probably have to do the former to accomplish the latter. "Isn't there any way to like.. draw him out or something instead? Something that'd be worth the risk for him to leave his place for?"

[tactician]

Weiler sighed, hiding his smile under a hand as he brought the cigarette to his mouth and lit up with a small silver lighter he pulled from his pocket. For all the advances in technology for civilizations since the expansion of races to the System past their home planets, very little about their traditional vices had changed. As far as he knew, smoking now was just like smoking back then, with maybe the exception of a broadened range of smokable items thanks to interplanetary trade.

"I guess you could try the Council meeting in a few weeks," he suggested casually.

[kobacake]

Danny wrinkled his nose as Weiler lit up. He was more than used to tobacco smoke, especially considering the cigars Garamond liked to smoke so much, but that didn't stop him from scooting back just a bit to distance himself. His face completely serious, he said, "You know that shit makes you age faster, right?"

[tactician]

"So does breathing," Weiler agreed airily, smiling as he took the next drag.

[kobacake]

Danny just rolled his eyes towards towards this, deciding to get back on track before the conversation derailed into something awful (and quite possibly trauma inducing) like before. "Whatever. I'm guessing security for a Council meeting would be pretty tight, though. There might not even be an opportunity."

[tactician]

"Well, you're right in that everyone's bringing their own entourage of bodyguards, though half of the Senators there aren't even important enough to warrant that kind of heavy protection. But it's as much a show of comparative power and wealth as it is to actually discuss relevant issues and never really come to a decision about it, so they can't lose out," Weiler said, smiling brightly at Danny.

He knew that the son of the Circle's Boss should be afforded some respect, but really, the young Danny Garamond was so easily riled and so simple to lead on to tangents that he couldn't help himself. It was a good thing that Danny Garamond was positioned so closely to the Circle's heart of operations. He would have been a perfect target if the Federation or Gladsheim had sleeper units like him (not that the possibility was nonexistent; he just figured it was much more difficult when the First was already so difficult to find for existing members).

"That being said, with all those people there, the security detail is tripping over themselves half the time to show each other up or to at least not step on each other's toes. It's a huge mess. I think it'd be much easier to stage a covert assassination operation there than on Gladsheim."

[kobacake]

"Not surprising that they're fucking useless..." Danny said as he tapped a couple of quick notes on his tablet after Weiler was done. They were finally starting to get somewhere with this. He leaned in a bit, more interested now that Weiler might actually be able to give him useful information. (Especially if it would keep him from having to end up in Wallabin's bedroom.) "I'm guessing you've been there before, right? Is there any time that he'd be alone and not completely barricaded in somewhere?"

[tactician]

"Only the Senators are allowed in the actual Council meeting room," Weiler said, raising a brow as Danny leaned in, though he did the same, resting his elbows on his knees. "Everyone's stripped of their goon squad there, but the room itself is in a basement level, so if you're a high-altitude sniper sort of ordeal, that won't get you very far."

His eyes slid up again toward the ceiling, thoughtful. "Although, the room itself has a rather high ceiling from what I recall, and there were vents near the top. I wouldn't be able to help you on the layout side of things, though."

[kobacake]

Unfortunately, Danny was normally a high-altitude sniper sort of ordeal. Not only did that allow him to maintain the greatest distance from his target, but it also gave him plenty of opportunity to escape once everything was said and done. Despite being in the mafia, he didn't particularly care for life-threatening danger, and the farther he could keep himself from a confrontation, the better. That wasn't to say he'd never had any missions that involved infiltrating buildings. In fact, he'd even done the whole vent thing once or twice. (Both times it had ended with him bitching about getting claustrophobic in the cramped spaces and scuffing his boots, however...)

"Guess we'd have to get floor plans or something," Danny said, mostly to himself. It shouldn't be too hard to find them. Maybe a little more so than normal since they didn't couldn't just grab records from the Seventh. "Do you know if the room's soundproof?"

[tactician]

"Semi," Weiler said, frowning as he recalled the difficulty he had at first with bugging the Council Room at all. "There's enough of a murmur that people outside understand that conversation is going on, but it's impossible to make left or right of whatever they're saying. There's an electronic signal scrambling barrier around the wall too. It's supposed to 'discourage distraction,' but in reality, it's to make sure no one starts updating their net-journals with any confidential information."

[kobacake]

"Guess that means a gunshot would be audible from the outside." It wasn't like that really mattered much though, given how many witnesses there would be anyway, but it always helped to have a little more time for him to make his escape before people started contacting the authorities. The barrier would actually work to his advantage in that respect since he wouldn't need to use anything with electronic signals until he was well outside the proximity of the room, while the people inside wouldn't be able to call for help.

Danny looked down and started typing more notes into the device in his hand, making sure to add the part about "climbing thru fucking vents AGAIN!!! >:(" in bold and italics. Without looking up, he asked, "Do people seriously choose these guys to represent them or whatever when they can't even be trusted not to put secret shit online?"

Having always lived on the First's space station and being more or less inclined to slack where studies (especially the really boring lessons on things like politics) were concerned, Danny really only had a vague knowledge of how things in the Federation actually worked. To him, the way the Circle did things just made so much more sense.