Better to Make Sure


eileen_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif logan_icon.gif

Scene Title Better to Make Sure
Synopsis Kaylee tries her hand at executing a successful meeting with a known mobster.
Date February 9, 2010


Needing to warn Eileen about her Aviator's run in and deliver his message, Kaylee had gone to visit the younger woman. It wasn't the only reason she was there, the one thing she remembered was that Colette had mentioned talking to some Linderman guys about help. The information had been passed to the bird whisperer, so it seemed only logical Eileen would be able to help Kaylee find the men in question… or at least one.

Glancing up at the sign for the building, Kaylee gives a little huff, nose wrinkling some. "I hate these kind of places.. I mean.. At one point it was amusing.. now it's just annoying to hear all those fantasies. The male mind is rather twisted." She sends a slightly amused look to Eileen and lifts shoulders in a shrug. "Not that women are any better.. Men are just louder about it." She's wearing her leather jacket, with a scarf wrapped around her neck to keep it warm. Her clothing isn't fancy by any means. A dark pair of jeans and a soft maroon turtle neck sweater.

Tugging gloved fingers through long blonde hair, she reaches for the door. "Please tell me the guy is at least a little less a sleaze then that Kain guy is? Maybe?" Who is probably the one Linderman employee she'd has the most dealings with.

"Don't you ever fantasize about anything a little louder than you should?" asks Eileen. She does, from time to time, though whatever thoughts she once routinely turned over while lying in bed at night and staring at the Dispensary ceiling are the furthest thing from the surface thoughts Kaylee can hear buzzing at the front of her skull if she's listening for them. A dark pea coat and an oversized wool sweater paired with black leggings and matching flats complete an unremarkably neutral outfit that appears drab alone and drabber still under the club lights when Kaylee opens the door and she moves inside.

Her eyes are seeking out Logan's trim profile even before the telepath has joined her under the fractured glow created by the different coloured filters shifting kaleidoscope-like across the lamps overhead. "Be polite," she recommends, "and don't insult his clientele."

As the girls go inside, a hostess (with the mostest) seems on the verge of drifting over to help them find where they're going, but a glance of recognition to Eileen gives the woman pause, a faint smile showing in her painted eyes, greeting aborted. She instead saunters up to one of the gentlemen coming in behind them, an entity of sequins, feathers, and wafting perfume that catches at their senses even as she breezes by.

Incidentally, it's ladies' night, which is probably why they got in for free, and chalk boards above the bar advertise half-price cocktails. That doesn't change up the performances going on, of course, though it's early yet, but for now, women twist sinuously around silver poles in the colourful light that never shines bright enough to touch the shadows of the room's corners.

Which would make Logan hard to find if he was not just coming downstairs, doing up his tie as he heads down the dimly lit staircase that leads up into dressing rooms and offices alike, eyes already seeking out his meeting for the evening. The wicked never rests, particularly not while they're doing a good turn. Spying both women as moderately out of place in appearance and demeanor, he moves in their direction, a black suit over white, tie scarlet.

"Well.. of course, I'm red blooded human like the rest… " Her voice lowering so that she has to lean close enough for the younger woman to hear her, as they step into the establishment, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "Don't mean I want to hear everyone else's… well… fetishes." Kaylee's blue eyes squint under the changing lights waiting for eyes to adjust.

"I don't plan to be.. or to insult anyone really." She comments softly in return, loosing the hold the scarf has around her neck, trying to see if this.. 'John' sticks out of the crowd. "I know I'm not the best… " And there he is coming down the stairs. The blonde telepath blinks, her head tilting a bit. "Well.. I'll be damned." Kaylee murmurs softly, remembering the punk kid in a certain classroom, when there was a flash of the man within.

"Small world." Kaylee says softly within Eileen's hearing, even though a polite smile is put into place to greeting Logan.

If Ethan were here, he might recognize Eileen's actions as allowing Kaylee to take point. As invested as she is in the liberation of Pastor Sumter and now the Nichols girl, it's at the very top of her companion's priority list. Although her vague recollections of it are still in the process of developing, she remembers what it felt like to arrange meeting after meeting with prospective allies during Gabriel's incarceration at Pinehearst while being utterly helpless to do anything except talk about it.

She remains silent but attentive, mindful to divide her attention between Logan, Kaylee and their lurid surroundings. There's a part of her that wants to see how the other woman handles this conversation without guidance as well — and it has nothing to do with schadenfreude.

Recognition does flicker up when Logan drags his attention from Eileen to Kaylee, pale eyes narrowing. He's certifiably older, and he doesn't bear the evidence of schoolyard scraps, nor does he look like he'd have any appreciation for the outdoors in his fine clothes and aloof demeanor, but it's him. The same bones, same eyes. The same can be said of Kaylee. But he doesn't make manifest this recognition with words, just skims a look over them both before inviting; "Come with me."

The booth is quiet, away from the noise and the milling crowd. Across the way, a hen party cackles above the sound of the music, which earns an irritated glance back from Logan before he's sitting down on black leather, looking tired. "What's this one about again?" he calls for a reminder, getting out his cigarette case in preparation.

Gloves pulled off and stuffed in a jacket pocket before she nods to the man, moving to follow after only a quick side glance to Eileen. Realizing what the woman is doing, Kaylee gives a barest nod to herself and works to pep talk herself. She's never been much of the lead type.. more of the follow which is how she ended up in most of her trouble.

Sliding into the booth, after quickly unzipping her jacket, she makes sure there is room for the thinner woman to sit comfortable as well. Kaylee studies the man for a moment, before saying, "Colette." The telepath starts simply, settling back in the seat, palms resting to each side of her. "She mentioned to me that she met with a John.. and Mr. Caliban looking for help." Her head shifts slightly so that she can look at Eileen. "Unfortunately, Colette is possibly in the hands of the very people she came to you guys about."

Eileen takes the seat on Kaylee's side of the booth closest to the aisle. When she had been a part of the Vanguard, she would have opted for the one closest to the wall with Ethan or Elias tucked in beside her — times have changed, however, and her preferences with them. You will not catch her sitting anywhere without an immediately accessible escape route. The risk of getting trapped or blocked in is too high, especially when you have as many enemies as the Remnant and the Ferry do combined.

She folds her hands on the edge of the table, fingers loosely knit, and rests her shoulders against the back of her seat without leaning into it, spine straight, chin inclined and eyes freely moving in search of other faces that may be familiar and less welcome than the one across from them.

"Thought she might be. She sent me a text and some pictures of the place and I've not heard back since — but she did get me the intel I asked for. The name's properly Logan, by the way." Long fingers hook the edge of a black glass ashtray in the centre of the table, ashy residue in its bottom added to with a delicate flick of his own, tumbling embers and fine dust. "Mr. Caliban and I promised Colette our assistance — she and I wanted the same thing, in the context of shutting down the operation, and now that she's there— "

He shrugs his shoulders, elbows resting on the table. "She's the kid sister of a colleague of mine who I'm not particularly keen to piss off by not lifting a finger. So. Do you people," a glance to Eileen, back to Kaylee, "have more of a plan than Colette came to us with?"

"Kaylee. Interestign meeting you in person." Is returned when he offers his name, small tug at the corner of her mouth could be a smirk, the only hint of them sort of meeting before, but then it's back to business, "And we do. I think when she came to you, we were still fumbling around for people and had limited intel ourselves. Course, the night we went to try and get a better feel for the place she decided to take it upon herself to get more." Lips press into a tight line, a sure sign that it was not something agreed upon.

"Some associates of Eileen here will be helping, so we'll at least have some combat experience on our side." Kaylee shifts forward in her seat, resting an arm on the table as she leans forward. "We plan to get in there.. get our people out and with hope destroy what's in there, especially the Refrain I know is there. That stuff is too dangers, I'm sure you know why. Though, some of the research this Dr. Sheridan is conducting could prove interesting." That last admitted reluctantly. "I'm sure you noticed the way they are geared, if you received her pictures, too.. So we need to hit them and get out fast."

Of her own associates, Eileen says nothing. Unless he explicitly asks, she prefers to let Logan wonder — she's not sure what sort of a reaction Jensen Raith's name might evoke. Teodoro Laudani's is even less certain. Her eyes shift from an inscrutable figure near the door that reminds her of someone, their face shrouded in opaque darkness, and returns her eyes to Logan's, observing him with the kind of cautious acumen that a snake deserves.

Well it's something like a plan, Logan curling a hand into a fist to rest his chin against his knuckles, watching Eileen as much as Kaylee despite the Englishwoman's mute tongue. "The most I can do," he starts, after some thought, "is lend you muscle. Weaponry, if you need it, I have a small stockpile that I can stand to give to the cause, as it were. The price has already been negotiated with Colette, so you need not worry about that — but the deal's only sealed if you can guarantee me that every last syringe is destroyed."

He leans back in his seat, it becoming increasingly clear that he's not so much tired as he is hung over, still settling his intake of rum and German spirits from a meeting just prior. At least he dressed up for this occasion, tie straight and jacket pristine. "I'm employing someone named Magnes Varlane, in addition. You can use him as you like, but I suggest you find a capacity that doesn't explode everything — his power could probably be handy in destroying the evidence.

"I can also see about making sure that if things start getting loud, I can keep the police away. Not a guarantee, but I've some contacts."

Of everything the man across from her said, one thing really stands out, "Magnes? Seriously??" The name is said flat and blandly, brows twitch up in surprise. Oh, she's so met him. But — she sighs — who is she to argue the help. "Well… hopefully he's better at something like this then dancing." Her expression reflecting how traumatizing that experience was.

"We could use the muscle definitely, but we're good on weapons at least for our part. Your people may need their own, though." Kaylee relaxes a bit, having been uncertain if she was going to find any help here. "The victims are my priority in this, but I do want to see every last bit of that Refrain destroyed, even if I have to destroy the place fully." Tone firm, as she will not hesitate to make sure the place goes up. "Stuff should have never come out of Pinehearst in the first place."

"No, I recruited him because he's absolutely fucking useless," Logan says, snippiness dogging the edges of his tone as he narrows his eyes at Kaylee's cynicism, fingers going a little rigid around his cigarette. "If he proves to be so, it'll be your own fault, but give a terrorist guns and a direction to walk in and they're still bound to fuck up anyway so I wouldn't be surprised." If Kaylee's words were facetious in their pickiness as to his offerings, Logan is in no mood for it — it's a long week and only bound to get longer.

"Well you put it that way." Kaylee says, her head giving a little back and forth motion, as she thinks on it. The tone is not missed and met with a rather neutral expression as she regards him, a hand coming up in a placating gesture, "Don't get me wrong, trust me. I appreciate any help I can get at this point. We in truth can't exactly afford to be picky, but you can understand my reservations when it comes to Varlane. We'll… find a use for him." Kaylee glances at Eileen as she tries to figure out if she's forgetting something, "I'll need a way to contact him, so I can co-ordinate with him.. and anyone else you send our way."

"We are hoping to go in as soon as the end of the week… " Attention given back to Logan, Kaylee's expression showing some of her own stress. "Do wish we were able to go in sooner, but it's taking time to get everything together."

Eileen's face betrays very little about what she is or isn't thinking. The glance Kaylee affords her is met, steadily returned and undergoes a gradual transformation into something more critical, scrutinizing. The blonde's words are not the ones she would have picked if put in a similar situation. Not much else is observable about the shift in her guarded demeanor.

"I'll give Ruskin contact details when I next have them," Logan says, nodding towards the telepath's silent companion, bringing up his cigarette to breathe from again, glowing orange tip sharply bright in all the vague lights and shadows of the strip club's interior. He runs his tongue over his teeth, silent for a moment as if tempted to end the conversation there, but he doesn't. Voice husky from sleeplessness, chain smoking and drinking, it's only barely audible beneath the music from the stage. "Better to make sure you have your shit together than ruin everything by going in early. There's nothing this woman can do to Colette and the others that she hasn't already done, probably. You'll only endanger them by fucking up, not by waiting. Is that everything?"

"It's why Colette brought in the experts." A hint of a smile touches Kaylee's lips, but of course it doesn't reach her eyes. "To make sure we don't screw this up. Already went wrong once when Colette went in to do her own recon. Live and learn, I don't plan to let it happen again."

A moment of thought and the young telepath gives a short nod, "I believe so. So I'll get out of your hair so you can enjoy the rest of your evening." She glances at Eileen and gives a little move of her head to indicate the desire to get out and a bit of an apologetic look as well. Kaylee is pretty damn new to all this and she knows it's showing. Turning back to Logan while she waits for the younger of the two woman to get out of the booth she add a genuine, "Again, I appreciate the help. This will improve our chances."

Eileen excuses herself from the booth at Kaylee's signal, her movements slow and fluid, never expending more energy than is required for her body to complete each task. She rises to her feet, twists smoothly around the edge of the table and takes a single step out, providing the other woman with room to follow and presumably lead the way out.

Either the apologetic look goes unnoticed or unacknowledged. Knowing the Briton, the latter is more likely than the former, but isn't necessarily a bad sign. "Thank you," she reiterates. This, for Logan's benefit and Logan's only.

The hand with the cigarette caught between fingers lifts, something like a wave in the movement of fingers, taking care not to spill ash down his sleeve as he does it. "Take care, ladies," Logan states, not getting up — instead, relaxing further in his seat. To Eileen, he adds, with the briefest of winks, "See you at work."

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