'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 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.

[tactician]

While his cigarette, only half smoked, burned itself to a stump, Weiler turned and gave Danny a wry smile. "They are only people," he pointed out, topping off the rest of his lager and setting the heavy glass delicately back on the table with scarcely a sound. "There isn't a soul alive who doesn't feel tempted to spill a secret, and there isn't one that can keep it indefinitely either."

[kobacake]

"Yeah, well, if they can't handle it maybe someone should break their legs or something." Danny shrugged, only looking back up once he was finished typing. It made sense to him that there would be consequences for something like that. After all, the Circle would run much less smoothly if they had to worry about their members being tempted to share their secrets. It was easier to make sure they were too afraid of the consequences to even consider the risk.

[tactician]

"Efficient," Weiler agreed, not at all surprised that a suggestion of that nature would come from a mafia child. "But also unfortunately considered illegal in most parts of the System."

Which would describe a great deal of the Circle's practices, to be honest.

[kobacake]

Danny just gave a grunt towards this, obviously unimpressed. Normal laws made about as much sense to him as mafia rules would to an ordinary citizen. He glanced over his notes again briefly before turning back to Weiler. "Is there anything else you can think of about the area or Wallabin that might be helpful?"

[tactician]

Weiler looked mournful, dragging his eyes down Danny's form from the highest tip of slick-backed hair to the polished point of his boots. "You honestly wouldn't give it a try? You're just his type; you'd be close enough to slip a knife between his ribs and he wouldn't even feel it."

[kobacake]

"No fucking way!" Danny growled out, but even as he said this there was a flicker of hesitance in his eyes. After all, now that he knew that vents were going to be involved, something quick and easy sounded almost appealing, even if it meant going much, much closer than his preferred range. Not to mention there'd certainly be less witnesses, and...

Wait.

What the fuck was he thinking?! Just because he always kept a switchblade in his boot didn't mean he was actually trying to use it when he didn't have to! He was a hitman, not an assassin (yes of course there was a difference between the two) and certainly not a spy either. It wasn't like he even knew how to act... though seducing some self-absorbed douchebag really didn't sound that hard...

No. No, no, no. Fuck that. There was no way he was waltzing into some wrinkly asshole's manor on their enemy's planet. It was too dangerous and Danny Garamond did not do danger.

[tactician]

Though the exact nature of Danny's thoughts weren't visible, the internal struggle no doubt going on inside his head was plain to see, his features twisting between thoughtful contemplation and outright disgust. Danny was right - he wasn't a spy, which was a good thing, considering it looked like he would make a pretty poor one.

With some semblance of mercy, Weiler stubbed out his cigarette and laughed, cutting short two things Danny seemed to dislike: the smell of smoke and entertaining the thought of seducing Senator Wallabin. "All right," he conceded, folding his legs the other way. "Then the vents are your best bet. As far as I remember, the easiest access is on the floor below the meeting room, so there'll be some climbing involved."

[kobacake]

Weiler's voice seemed to pull him out of his ridiculous bout of inner conflict, though his face still looked rather disgruntled even after he'd settled (and re-settled) on his decision. He let out a rather dramatic sigh as Weiler mentioned the point of access. Climbing didn't bother him one bit. After all, since he normally shot his targets from high places he was used to it and pretty good at it too. But climbing in vents was a pain in the ass. (Everything about vents was a pain in the ass, though...) "Great. What about access to the building?"

[tactician]

Leaving the crumpled stub in the ashtray, Weiler fished a thin, semi-transparent card out of his vest's breast pocket. He hadn't brought it with advance knowledge of the contents of this meeting, being that there hadn't been any advance knowledge, but the identification card was something he reflexively slipped into his pockets from outfit to outfit, like he had for the last ten years. It was like how some people felt about their phones and transmission devices - he felt like he was constantly missing something without it.

One wouldn't come to that conclusion with how easily he gave it up, though. Weiler only passed an impassive eye over the fake name and information printed on the card before handing it to Danny, his entire false life between his index and middle finger. "You can take this. With all the chaos going down on Gladsheim, there's a chance that Wallabin hasn't had the chance to wipe me from the system yet. There's a lot of digital paperwork involved, and he's always dragged his feet wish something he could have a secretary do instead. If it works, it should grant you access to most floors in the building.

"If it doesn't, throw it away."

[kobacake]

"Milo Eberstark..." Danny read the name on the card out loud as he took it from Weiler. He glanced from the card, to Weiler, back to the card, and finally back to Weiler again before saying, "Normally people's real names suit them better, but you actually do look like a Milo."

After getting that (oh so important) tidbit out of the way, he glanced over the rest of the information on the card before zipping it up safely in his satchel. "I just hope he didn't decide to get fucking motivated while you were gone and put some kind of alert on that ID instead."

[tactician]

At Danny's seemingly offhand comment, Weiler's expression pinched a little at the edges, but he didn't comment until the mention of a possible alert came up in the conversation.

"Unlikely. Wallabin cares a little too much about how he looks to so publicly admit that his personal assistant had been one sitting under his nose without detection for so long. The most he'd do is bar it and set it to ping a personal alarm on his or Gladsheim's radar. Like I said, if that happens, dump the card and move out as soon as possible. They won't be able to mobilize fast enough for one unknown man to slip away."

[kobacake]

"Works for me," Danny said with a shrug. If it worked, he'd be on the lookout just in case. The last thing he needed was to get caught from using a flagged card. He tapped the rest of what Weiler had said into his tablet, glancing over what he'd written so far. He'd managed to get a decent amount of information (even if none of it was stuff that he was actually happy to hear). He then held the tablet out to Weiler. "Okay, here. Did I get all this right?"