'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 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?"

[tactician]

Well, no news was good news.

Weiler accepted the tablet and ran through it with machine-like efficiency, handling it with a proficiency that suggested he had been using one or similar tools like it for most of his career. He was a quick reader and there weren't many notes to begin with, so he handed it back within the minute with a business smile. "It looks accurate to me."

When Danny reached out to take it back, Weiler started as if forgetting something, reaching out to Danny's wrist to pull the tablet back into his space. "Wait."

With one hand still on Danny's arm, he wrote something down on the tablet with another - a set of numbers in a random enough sequence that it was unlike it could be anything but a contact number. Weiler grinned, only letting go of Danny once he was done. "My temporary assigned number. In case you think of anything else you need, of course."

om..g.... weiler.

[kobacake]

Danny didn't think anything of it when Weiler pulled the tablet back, but when he saw what Weiler had typed, he raised a brow. He glanced up at Weiler again, nose wrinkled slightly, and said without any air of embarrassment, "Okay, I'm flattered and all, but you're way too tall for my taste."

And after a pause, he added, "And aren't you with that other guy anyways?"

[tactician]

At that, Weiler laughed, loud and without a hint of offense. He leaned back on the booth seat, shoulders still shaking as he waved Danny's rejection away with a sense of composed ease.

"You are a bit too young," Weiler admitted, glancing briefly at Danny's face, which still possessed that air of youth that hadn't yet been worn out by the years. The Circle was just full of these deceptively honest people. Shouldn't they all just guard their secrets a little closer to their hearts? "It's just a bad, but entertaining habit."

[kobacake]

Danny leaned back a bit, though somehow he wasn't put off at all by Weiler's outburst. On the contrary, a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he narrowed his eyes slightly. He hadn't missed Weiler's totally obvious dodge of his question. (He had to admit he was pretty curious to know the answer, so he'd been waiting for it.) "Oh man! I knew it! You totally are, aren't you?"

[tactician]

"Teasing?" Weiler said, blinking back at Danny guilelessly. He knew a press for information when he saw one. Danny was a hitman, but he was the informant of the two. "I would have thought that was obvious."

[kobacake]

Danny rolled his eyes, smirk slipping off his face much easier than it came. His ability to read people might have been close to zero, but even he could tell Weiler was intentionally trying not to answer the question. "Don't pull that shit. You're totally seeing that other guy, right? The one who came here with you."

[tactician]

Smirking on his end, now, Weiler leaned forward on his knees, toward Danny. "I'll tell you if you give me a kiss, Herr Gossipmonger."

[kobacake]

Danny paused, eyes narrowed again as he considered Weiler's proposition. It only took a moment for him to shrug and say, "Okay. Worth it."

It wasn't like a kiss was a big deal, and even if he wasn't really in to guys most of the time, Weiler definitely wasn't the worst looking guy he could be kissing. He made sure to add, "But you'd better not give me a shitty cop-out answer."

[tactician]

Weiler looked mildly surprised. "You'd do it just for a question like that?"

[kobacake]

"What. You were just saying that so you could get out of answering it?" Danny really shouldn't have been surprised by that. "It's just a kiss. And besides, everyone pretty much assumes it's true anyways. I just wanna know the answer."

[tactician]

In retrospect, it made sense that a boy who grew up with the riches of the System's largest crime organization at his back wouldn't know how to bargain. Weiler wasn't surprised that Danny would succumb to an impulsive trade; he was surprised that Danny would settle for just one simple answer to something he just wanted confirmed - it wasn't even new information.

What a losing deal.

Weiler shook his head and smiled. "No, a deal's a deal. I'm not backing out. But it has to be on the mouth - no air kisses or pecks on the cheek now, Mr. Garamond."

[kobacake]

"Obviously." Danny just shrugged, not having planned on backing out or trying to get around it to begin with. It was true that he didn't know the first thing about effective bargaining, but perhaps that was why he was given a physical job rather that one that actually required a lot of thinking. He wasn't wily or a tactician by any means (unless, of course, it was someone's wardrobe that needed planning). He leaned in, intending to make good on this deal.

[tactician]

Weiler bit his lip to contain his smile. This was all very storybook-esque and scripted, with the leaning in rather than the jump to action. He supposed that maybe he should spare Danny some trouble and just help him along with the other half of that short distance, but he did have to take a split second to compose himself and wipe the humor off his face first.

Pushing all thoughts of unicorns and fairytale princess to the back of his head, Weiler squashed down one last laugh and leaned forward with a guiding hand on Danny's cheek, meeting the young man in a close-mouthed (he had to protect the fair maiden's honor after all) kiss that lasted for only as long as Danny could take it.

He started counting down in his head. Ten, nine, eight...

[kobacake]

D-Danny wasn't a princess! Well, maybe a little. He did like to be taken care of. And he was pretty spoiled. And... Ok, so he was a princess. Big deal!!

He placed on a hand on Weiler's knee, supporting his weight as he leaned in. He was actually kind of surprised at how mild the kiss was, given Weiler's projected skeeviness. Danny might have even thought this could be considered a cop-out kiss if not for the fact that Weiler was the one who started it. When Weiler pulled away, Danny raised a brow expectantly. "Well?"

[tactician]

This time, Weiler did laugh, leaning back in his seat since Danny's hand was still on his knee. He licked his lips, thoughtful for only a second.

"Locke does that a lot better," he concluded with a grin.

[kobacake]

Danny leaned back as well, a pleased smirk on his face as he crossed his arms. There really wasn't any reason for him to be so interested in other people's business, but somehow hearing Weiler confirm what he'd heard was just so satisfying. "Yeah, well, I wasn't really too impressed either."