Cian (thebettingsort) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-03 14:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, aisling wilde, cian wilde |
Who: Cian & Ash
What: Revelations and strategy
Where: Cian’s office
When: Late this afternoon
Rating: PG-13 for lots of bad language, references to violence
Status: Complete
It had taken him a couple of weeks before he felt he had anything of substance to share with Ash about her Ring newcomers. She was right -- on the surface, the looked like they’d come out of nowhere. Shallow and even moderate digging had revealed no red flag contacts. They weren’t clean, by any means, or else Ash would have booted them out long ago, but they seemed for all intents and purposes to be small-time criminals. Their mistake, that: with the kind of combat skills they were apparently showing, it just didn’t add up. He’s taken a leap sideways, checked out that Caius guy Ash had talked about instead. He’d reinforced the warehouses against theft (no one knew how to stop a thief better than other thieves; something he and his people would always have on those who walked on the right side of the law), but the outsider with an inside source was a source of concern anyway. And he’d had a feeling about it -- coincidence was part of his trade, but he also knew most things happened for a reason. So, a possibility: two birds, one stone. He fared better there --found the inside guy (to be dealt with once he could figure out who else was compromised), then started casting a net out from him. He’d struck gold last night, finally -- a connection of a connection of a connection that looked familiar turned out to appear on both lists. From there, it hadn’t been a very long path, terminating in an insider -- a man who, Cian happened to know, had been in pretty tight with Leo, the once-overseer now displaced by Sevrin. He’d been quiet since the change in power over at the docks, so Cian had been content to leave him alone. Quiet was good for hatching plans, though. Damn if that feeling hadn’t panned out (and damn if the fucking Spymaster hadn’t been right to set Cian to inform for him; these days he felt he could rival some of the professional info brokers for sources). He had no idea what this guy was up to, but that would come. With help. So he’d set the meeting, organized his thoughts into a file, even stuck it belatedly with the fucking colored label Ash seemed to be enamored with (it was crooked, but damn it, he’d tried) before making coffee, which was done right on the dot. Professionalism, or something. It was working all right for them so far. They hadn’t ended up at each other's throats or up against a wall, which in his book spelled progress. She’d left with just enough time to get to the meeting on time. Prep for the next Ring matches had taken longer than she’d anticipated - a new guy to vet, someone that knew the guys that Ash wasn’t entirely sure were clean in the way they needed to be - but she was knocking on the door right on the dot of when he’d scheduled the meeting. Two birds, one stone, really. She could do her end of month report in person - the last of the buildings she’d been funding the construction costs for had finally finished, and the Ring had shown higher profit margins than normal, which she had to admit was in part due to the new guys. She frowned; what the fuck were they up to? She shook her head, opened the door, and walked in. The smell of freshly made coffee greeted her and she detoured towards it. “Hey, Ci,” she called, putting her files on the desk beside the coffee and pouring herself a cup. “How goes?” “It goes.” Not the friendliest greeting, but not hostile -- and he was pretty occupied with his own coffee cup. They’d more or less gotten into a groove of sorts now -- she wasn’t uncomfortable here anymore, and he didn’t feel the urge to throw her out (or maybe the latter was the cause of the former; hard to tell, sometimes, considering how screwed up their relationship had been the last decade and a half). She looked good today. And that was absolutely not the matter at hand. “You?” he asked. He doubted that she’d be any more forthcoming about her life than he’d been about his, but it seemed a matter of course, that politeness thing that they were both trying. And they could probably use a bit of that (coffee was just a small part) before getting into serious conversation. “Got something for you before we get into it.” He nodded in the direction of the folder with its crooked label, currently the only item sitting on his desk. “Same,” she replied easily. It was still a bit odd to her, this getting along thing. They’d spent so long avoiding the fuck out of each other and fighting when they got in the same room by accident that she still wasn’t entirely sure how to act or how much to say about any given topic. For the moment, she was treating him like a friendly acquaintance; wasn’t like they were anything else. Whether or not she wanted something more was beside the point. And probably a good reason to go and have her head examined. The file on his desk made her smile, just a little. He usually didn’t bother with the extra step - when he did, he usually forgot the label. That he didn’t this time was nice and unexpected. The smile dropped as she read through what was in it, and her relaxed mood turned into annoyance. Just great, she thought. The last thing that they needed was some potential uprising. The question, though, was who they were rising against. She’d done her part in quieting the people who’d wanted her in power over the last half decade; she wasn’t stupid. They hadn’t wanted her in power, they’d wanted a puppet. If they were coming to the Ring, though, chances are they wanted her out of the picture. That anyone would want both of them gone wasn’t something that had crossed her mind. Ash sighed, motioned to the folders sitting next to the coffee. “Top one is about a new guy who wants in. Haven’t vetted him, figured he’d turn up like the others. Haven’t let him in, either.” It was his turn to sigh. It just figured that there were more coming out of the woodwork. “I’ll look into him,” he promised. But yeah, it was a sucker bet to say he wouldn’t. Unless there were two unconnected groups trying to get into the Ring. Now there was a happy thought. Not. “Make him cool his heels a couple days. I’ll send an all clear. He got to be in it, you’re right -- too fucking coincidental otherwise -- but that’s fine for now. Gotta play dumb. Why is it,” he asked, “that you always bring me such nice presents? Don’t answer that,” he said immediately. If it was to piss him off, he really didn’t want or need to know at this point. There wasn’t a question that he’d get back to her on her new potential, so she simply nodded at the promise. He was good for it, and he was right - for now, she needed to play stupid. Having her poke around would end up getting her killed, probably. That was the last thing she needed. But his next question got a small smile and a quick “because you’re my favorite.” She finished up the file, closed it, and placed it back down on his desk before hopping up and sitting next to it. Her legs swung back and forth, the heels of her shoes knocking dully against the wood. “Second file is financials, third is what I found at Sforza’s. Figured you’d want a copy of the financials because it seems like the fucker was skimming a bit off one of our investments.” She had no doubt that Sforza had no clue that the syndicate was connected - they weren’t stupid enough to air all of their laundry - but it reconciled some of the figures they hadn’t been able to resolve. There was one other thing that she supposed that she should talk to him about, but that wasn’t something she really wanted to bring up. She doubted the conversation would go well - not that a fight would break out, but that he’d say something that would piss her off and then she’d have to deal with the aftermath of her emotions. No, better to leave out the fact that some idiot had been making marriage overtures to her. “So, we got a plan, or do I keep running business as usual until you tell me otherwise?” He took up the folders, spending a bit longer looking at the third. “Didn’t figure you’d bring me this one,” he said at length. “I was going to get it on my own. Thanks for saving me the trouble.” The skimmed money was, at best, an excuse. Not that he thought there’d be much to find, but he’d dig there too, when he had the time. Not that he’d have much with this new clusterfuck to untangle. “Going to say I doubt I’m your favorite. Always thought you had better taste than that.” the words were uttered lightly, with no malice. Almost a joke, almost friendly. Almost but not quite. Why was this so much easier with Fee? Right, new subject. “Working on the plan as we speak, princess. For now, best way to trap them is to welcome them with open arms. You’ve got another Ring night scheduled in a few weeks, don’t you?” Ash nodded. “Team matches. Drum up some excitement, bring in higher bets.” It’d been a while since she’d hosted one of those, and a few of the regulars were clamoring for it. Happy fighters meant good fights, and right now her priority had to be with keeping the Ring profitable. It wasn’t like it took much effort. The damn thing practically ran itself; she was there to keep things smooth. Should have known things’d been too smooth lately. “There isn’t anything else to find for Sforza,” she added, clearly annoyed. She’d found some receipts, but nothing glaringly obvious. No scribbled notes about meeting with people to off prostitutes. There were a few sketches of some mechanical things that reminded her vaguely of the things Conti had guarding him, but that wasn’t surprising. Sforza had funded them. “Better safe than dead.” At this point, she could likely say it along with him. Then: “Yeah, advertise as usual, get it lined up. I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you’re competing.” She didn’t always, but for team matches, he doubted she’d sit out. Her new problem children would know that, too. “Got a new info source to vet out anyway,” he mused. This seemed the perfect opportunity to put the prophetess through her paces. “Just go along business as normal. I’ll let you know when plans change.” Not if. “And princess,” this in a more serious tone of voice, “Neil’s on duty until I get this shit sorted out, and when he sleeps, someone else stays on you. No argument on this one, all right? Save me the fucking headache.” “Yeah. Got my partner lined up already.” She wanted to fight him on Neil - the man was getting old, and his kids were now at an age that whenever he left to do detail on Ash, they worried. But she couldn’t deny that he was right, which pissed her off, but there wasn’t anything to be done for it. “And my name isn’t princess, Ci. I wish you’d stop with that fucking nickname.” It never suited her, and she was pretty sure he used it to piss her off. Maybe she should come up with one for him. It would definitely amuse the hell out of her, but she kind of liked using Ci. Probably better to stick with what she knew. “Who’ll be taking detail when Neil gets a break? And they can’t come with to Ruby. Mama will kick them out, you know that.” Lena was careful about keeping Ruby neutral, and so whenever Neil need to be on duty, he had to go somewhere else when she worked. It wasn’t like someone was going to try to bust in on Lena’s operation - they’d have to be suicidal as hell. None of the girls were helpless damsels, and if they needed the help, well. Ash didn’t want to ever get on Lena’s bad side. Period. “Take Kirill,” Cian said after a few moments of consideration. “I’ll put him in touch with Neil, they can hash out their schedules. Not their first go at round-the-clock.” Her bristling at the name was only one reason to keep using it. “Old habits die hard.” Some harder than others. “As for Ruby…” He grimaced. He had his own problems with Lena Saint Laurent, though he’d be an idiot to deny she was capable. He could probably reach out to her -- she’d tried herself a time or two to connect with him -- but… Yeah, no, fuck no even. “If you’re going there, give them your quitting times; they’ll drop and meet you at the door. Tell Mama,” this with some derision, “to look out for trouble. No doubt she’d prefer to know about it ahead of time. And that it’s being taken care of.” Last thing he wanted was that woman messing in his affairs again. She grimaced at the mention of Kirill. The guy was annoying and overly eager to help, which usually meant walking too damn close and accidentally touching. It was her own fault, she supposed - Neil had warned her to not wear her costumes around the guy, but she hated changing after work, and it just seemed easier to toss a coat on over whatever she needed to be wearing. She didn’t do that anymore. “Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll talk to Mama, let her know.” She didn’t know what Ci’s problem with Lena was, but it really wasn’t any of her business. Outside of work, nothing was her business, although that line had been blurring lately. “Anything else?” “Just… stay out of trouble,” he said. “It’s likely they’ll wait to move, but if something seems off, you call me.” He met her gaze, added, “I mean it. You in another clinic’s the absolute last thing I want. It’s not for long, and then I’ll get everyone out of your hair and you can go back to… whatever.” Better not to delve too deep into those details. “Whatever you say, boss,” she said, hopping off the desk. She grabbed the file he’d prepared for her - she’d keep it as a novelty. “I got another meeting in twenty, so I’ll get out of your hair. Pretty sure you have more important shit to do than make small talk with me, right?” She smiled, small but real. “See you around.” “Didn’t tell you to get out, did I?” A pause then, “Finish your coffee. It’s fucking freezing out there.” And from him, that was saying something. That took her by surprise. Hell, she’d expected for him to be all for her taking off, but she shrugged and took a seat in a chair - no point in trying his patience for her sitting on his desk - and picked up her discarded coffee cup. “I never say no to coffee,” she said lightly. “Yeah, kind of figured as much.” Casually, he added, “Creamer and caramel syrup’re in the drawer, if you want them.” Because he didn’t take them, but he knew she did. As far as thoughtfulness went, it wasn’t much, but it was telling enough in its own way. With that, he took the folder of financials and opened it up as he finished draining his own cup. Numbers were easier to explain than caramel syrup. Fortunately, she seemed to know him well enough -- or maybe to have read the overly casual mood correctly -- not to comment on it. They could have coffee in peace and quiet like two rational adults. Hope sprang eternal. |