ofelia zhou deals in secrets. (consultancy) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-01-14 22:24:00 |
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“I have thirteen names,” Ofelia said. She and her apprentice had taken a hovertaxi over to the docks district (were she another woman, she might have enjoyed the walk over—instead, she’d take the leisurely ride, thanks much) and were now standing by the side of the street, watching the flow of people on the sidewalk. Fee held out the piece of paper, handing it to Audrey without looking at the girl. Some were names of individuals, others were companies: most of them could be found represented in this district. “We’re looking into these merchants. I want a detailed watch on the sort of clientele they receive—we’re specifically looking to see if any customers seem too shady or too well-dressed, possibly even noble. In fact, if you outright recognise any nobles, all the better. Write those names down immediately.” Then she looked down and to the side, glancing at Audrey. “This is the grunt work of the profession, but it’s what pays the bills. Chasing the trail. Finding the buyers. And most importantly: following the money. A nobleman’s laid a false trail to obscure his financial movements—it’s our job to unravel it and find out who he is.” Standing next to Ofelia, Audrey looked a lot different. Bland, really. It was something you learned growing up with the Thieves’ Guild. Some were better than others, but it was a skill necessary for their line of work. She looked like a woman belonging to the Commoner’s District—not a ninja, not a whore, and most definitely not a noblewoman. Audrey gave a slight nod to everything that Ofelia said. Her eyes drifted down to the paper in hand reading over the names she had written down. She went over them twice in her head, keeping them fresh in her mind. Never did Audrey turn to look at her, instead her eyes went skimming the the store names she could read, identifying some on the list from where they stood. “False trail?” she mused. “I suppose you have the reason and simply missing the culprit behind all of this?” “Exactly,” the older woman answered, head now tilted back to the street and surveying the nearest of their quarry (one Irwin Imports, a respectable storefront). “We’re just looking for a name.” Whatever Loch decided to do with that name after it was handed over, well, that wasn’t Fee’s problem. “And – not yet, but eventually – once we narrow down the list even further, it’ll be time to break into some of their offices. Liberate their paperwork and make some copies.” Her explanations were patient as they’d always been—aiming to not move too quickly, but also not treat Audrey like a child. Ofelia needed her apprentice-slash-sidekick; the pile of cases on her desk often required two pairs of eyes rather than just the one. And it was a good thing there were two of them, too, because it turned out Audrey would be watching these docks for quite a while. For the following week, Audrey frequented the dock on a regular basis. Each day she’d come by wearing a different identity or becoming invisible altogether, the latter being easier. The list Ofelia had given her had now been memorized by the ninja. While this was infinitely better than reading clusters of paperwork at a time, as they often did, it was still dull. Mostly it involved dedicated patience, a thing that Audrey was known to lack. So she sat there, stood there, and occasionally dangled there. But with hard dedication, results came to fruition. Names started to lead her somewhere. There was an unbecoming man in particular that roused her interests. Diverting her attention to him, while leaving some scattered in other places just in case, the blonde had found a lead. It was time to act. Thanks to Audrey’s efforts, one of the thirteen names finally had enough material to merit a more… direct approach. It was shortly after noon and one of the two clerks was on her lunch break, thus making it the perfect time for their attempt. “Ready?” Fee asked, readjusting her coat while looking down at her protege. The girl was a ninja—and today, those skills were about to come in handy. Audrey nodded, pulling her cowl over her head. In seconds, she Vanished in plain sight. Pressing her hand on Ofelia’s back, she awaited for the woman to move in order to follow her, eliminating herself as a suspect. Her eyes flicked up as Ofelia opened the door, moving swiftly behind her so the door appeared held for Ofelia only. As soon as the door closed, the ninja pressed herself against the wall, eyes never leaving the clerk. “How may I help you?” the man asked politely, dragging himself to attention from his half-doze at the desk. He was the only clerk on duty; his partner had slipped out a few minutes ago for lunch, they’d seen to that. Ofelia smiled back. Behind her, she tried not to listen for the sound of creaking floorboards (this was an old building by the water, the wood tended to warp from the elements, that was all) and leaned against the counter. “I’ve come into some rather large inheritance, and so was thinking of getting into the import and export business, and was considering investing in your company. Do you have some time to discuss? Just brainstorming, you know, getting an early hand on things.” “Well…” His gaze drifted to the clock above the door, brow furrowing. “Our manager isn’t in today, but…” The airheaded coquettish act wasn’t Ofelia’s best, particularly when the clerk was over a decade younger than her. Perhaps Audrey would have been a better choice for the distraction—but then again, Fee was hardly as young and spry as the ninja. The whole point was getting her apprentice to pick up the more hands-on elements of the job. She readjusted. “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment, I swear. I just wanted to hear a bit about how your company thinks of—” she hefted an enormous, heavy folder, “these prospects.” It hit the desk, brimming with shipping reports and notes. The clerk’s attention was fully riveted on the book now, a small explosion of papers cascading over the edges of the desk. Uttering apologies, Ofelia stooped down to help him start gathering them up. She didn’t look at the door into the back office. Now. It was a signal if ever there was any. Quiet footsteps effectively made their way across the wooden floor to the door. Her long fingers wrapped around the knob, twisting slowly and carefully to feel for resistance. There was none. Sliding into the room, she closed the door behind her, steadying the quiet motion with her other hand. A quick sweep of the office and she found herself alone. Still not comfortable removing her vanish she continued her work, pulling out her lock pick to get the file cabinet open. A minute in and she heard the click. Fingers brushed through the files, searching for a name. A smirk pulled on her lips as soon as she found it. Sliding the folder out she flipped through the pages quickly before sliding it in her satchel and locking the file cabinet. There was a window in the room. Staring up, she looked questionably at it-- close to the ceiling and a little too thin for her liking. It would be a tight fit, but completely doable. Climbing onto the desk, she pushed the glass forward to open it, being careful not to distort the papers and clutter on the desk below. As soon as she has squeezed out, she dropped to the alley outside. Adjusting herself to look presentable. Audrey dropped her invisibility and came to sit on a bench outside the office, waiting for Ofelia. It took some time before Ofelia was able to extract herself from the conversation – she’d built up her image as the aimless, hapless heiress, eager to throw around her easily-earned money – and she found herself lingering in discussion with the clerk regardless, buying Audrey some extra time just in case. The minutes dragged on. Until the bell finally dinged over the door and announced the other clerk returned from their lunch break. Then she finally straightened, uttered her profuse apologies, and took her leave, the large folder now folded back into her arms. Outside, Ofelia found the bench and smoothly sat down beside her assistant with a little exhale of relief. Opening the folder she’d used for the ruse, she flicked it open to an empty space, a way to discreetly transport the stolen papers back to her own office. “Did you find it?” They weren’t certain if the particular client in these files was the client she was looking for, but it was the warmest of the leads they’d found so far. A grin lingered on Audrey's lips as she looked over at the Orator. "What? Don't think I could've made it in time?" Pulling out the file from her own bag, Audrey set it on her folder before resting both her elbows in the back of the bench. "I think this calls for ice cream." Fee’s hand flitted out, running her fingertips along the heavy off-white paper used by this particular shipping firm, tracing the lines of the letters (information, pure information, her bread and butter). But she had to resist the urge to chew up the files immediately; they were still sitting right outside the office, and would need to remove themselves to a safer location before she could pore over it. “Agreed on the ice cream,” she said, closing and latching the folder and tucking it under her elbow, rising and dusting off her trousers. (Her knee ached a little; the weather was changing and heralding winter.) “And then afterwards, I have some more homework for you: you’ll look over the file first, see what you can pick out before I read it. We’ll see if our notes line up.” It was back to the duller side of her job, sifting through files and drawing abstract connections between numbers and details, not the heady danger of sneaking into back rooms. But it was all part of the job, and Audrey would have to learn it if she was to pick up the trade of information brokering. |