Easily Done - String Theory: Aftermath

Easily Done

Log Archive » Logs for November 2008 » Easily Done

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Scene Title	Easily Done
Synopsis	A discussion of something, well, easily done.
Date	November 22, 2008

A random deli on the Lower East Side

It's mid-Saturday, with the Miracles having taken place and Helena's rain quite possibly still ongoing. The member of Phoenix called Cat sits in the apartment shared with Dani, at the computer keyboard. Her thought is to have a chat, maybe a meeting with Wireless. Her understanding is it can't be so difficult to set up. She types an instant message addressed simply to that name. The text is brief. Morning.

It's not so difficult at all, though Wireless spends a few short beats considering the simple statement and the address it was sent from. Good morning, is the texted reply. What can I do for you? Since anyone who comes looking for Wireless wants something.

It's a good enough morning. Hopefully it's the same for you. Cat enters that response, then types on. I'm interested in direct discussion of some matters I have in mind. Time and location of your choosing. She then waits, watching the screen and sipping coffee.

Can be arranged, is Wireless' response. The subsequent pause is quite brief, after which the technopath supplies the name and address of a deli in Lower East Side. Along with an hour just past the normal lunch rush.

I'll be there. How do I recognize you? Cat's query is transmitted, and she checks the time display on her iPhone. The indicated hour isn't far off. Better yet, I'll leave that to you. I'll be the 5' 8" brunette with the guitar.

Distant physically, the arch of one dark eyebrow can't be seen by Cat, but it occurs nonetheless. Finding you won't be a problem, Wireless assures the woman. And that settles that.

She closes the window and departs, taking her gear along to be recognizable as indicated. A short time later, Cat wanting to arrive early, she's at the designated place and seated in a corner. An open book is in front of her, the subject matter psychology. Multiple personalities, for specifics. She's got a tall Pepsi near one hand.

Hana, on the other hand, is precisely on time — she did arrive early, but took advantage of that time and her temporary anonymity to ensure Cat brought no surprises along with her. Dressed in a light blue windbreaker over an ivory blouse and black jeans — the drape of the jacket hinting to the observent at at least one concealed weapon — she orders a sandwich and soon walks over to Cat's table, shoes tapping lightly against the floor tiles. "Catherine?" Phrased as a question, it isn't really one. The ex-operative extends a hand across the table. "Hana."

Hana's grip is equally firm, carefully moderated. "You're welcome," she replies politely, nodding to Cat. She slides into the seat opposite the other woman, setting her sandwich down on the table. "What is it you wanted to discuss?" Pleasantries cursorially observed, the technopath moves straight into business.

"I'm interested," Cat replies after Hana has seated herself, "in arranging transfers of funds in such a way as no one knows they came from me. There is a new operative handling security measures, one who has some desires and goals which require seven figures. I wish to aid him in acquiring that sum, without overshadowing Helena's leadership by virtue of being able to do so." On completion of speaking, she lifts the cola and drinks from it.

Listening to Cat's words, Hana unwraps the sandwich, but she leaves it resting atop the wrappings when the other woman has concluded her explanation. Dark eyes gaze levelly across the table for a long moment before Wireless inclines her head. "Easily done," the technopath replies. When money is a matter of zeroes and ones… She picks up the sandwich. "Is there any particular way you want the transfers handled?"

"I'm considering that," Cat replies. "My first thought was to establish a recording studio which could work as a front for such activities and expenses as may be needed, where money divested would be explicable as grants to individual musicians, but I realize that ties to me. It's known I'm a musician as well as an attorney, after all. I may still found and operate the studio, but it should be independent of Phoenix. My thought now is to establish some shadow corporations to mask sources, with the ostensible public purpose being to buy and give things away to those in need and contribute to the rebuilding efforts here in New York." Silence settles as the woman takes another drink, then adds "If you look at me, and you may already have, you would likely see some of my extensive finances are invested in real estate already, by managers hired before I came into control of the trust."

Eating some of the sandwich as Cat continues, Hana listens quietly, her expression decidedly neutral. A brief dip of her head confirms that Wireless did her homework on Cat, but she doesn't address that last remark first. "That would be reasonable," the technopath agrees. "There are some organizations we already move funds through. Not usually so much, but it can spread out the transfers. And if you want any digital trail erased, attenuated, or redirected, I can do that."

"Electronic manipulations are your forte, Hana," Cat replies smoothly. "I've no doubt you're professional and thorough in such tasks, trails will vanish nicely." A slight smile is shown. "I'm grateful also for your understanding in these matters. Appearances, in so many cases, are important. If it became known to the organization's rank and file I have such funds and act in this manner, it could seem I'm attempting to make a power play. I do not desire to conceal it from Helena, if she asks the extent of my funds I'll tell her, but as yet she's made no such inquiry despite evidence of such existing."

The smooth compliments earn a sidelong glance from Hana, reflexively looking for the trap beneath the pretty words. It is, however, a reflex only, and she stuffs the impulse back in its mental box shortly afterwards, taking another bite of her sandwich. "It's beneficial from more than one perspective," the technopath replies. "We don't need more official attention than we already have right now."

"Exactly," Cat agrees. "There are details to be ironed out once Conrad has decided what his needs are and come up with more definitive price tags, for starters it would be good if he becomes made aware of something just over one million dollars being at his disposal from some source I'm very hopeful he'll be good enough not to ask about." Another drink is taken, after which she asks "Is there anything you desire me to see? I can assure you I sha'n't forget whatever you might need viewed and remembered."

Hana nods in agreement with Cat's observations, taking the opportunity to eat a bit more of her sandwich. The look the other woman receives when she resumes speaking is a puzzled one, brows drawn in a bit. From Hana's perspective, the question's come entirely out of left-field. "I can't say I follow. What would I need you to see?"

"Thus the question," Cat replies. "I never forget. You may not need use of it now, but it could happen."

Hana regards Cat steadily. "I imagine that, when I do want it, it will be far too late to do any good. But I appreciate the offer." She picks the sandwich back up, but doesn't take a bite, raising one brow in her companion's direction. Is there anything else?

"Not offhand," she replies, "unless you've come across unpublished reports of a newly discovered plant species." Cat lifts the soda again and drinks more, with her eyes briefly settling on Hana's sandwich. It seems time to acquire one of her own.

"I have not," Hana replies. "But I will keep an ear out for them." Wrapping the remaining half of her sandwich back up, the woman rises from her seat. "Let me know when you're ready to start the project," she concludes, nodding to Cat.

"Start now, please," Cat answers as she too rises. Food must be had, and this requires getting up. "Good afternoon, Hana," she offers, followed by her hand to shake again.

Wireless raises a brow at Cat's response, then inclines her head once more, even as she shakes the other woman's hand. "Very well," she agrees. Sandwich in hand, the technopath makes her way to and through the door, attention splitting between the real and the virtual with practiced ease.