With a cigarette in her mouth, the red head crossed the street and looked at her watch, walking at a slow pace like she had all the time of world, which wasn't the truth. She would arrive at the Du Lac, where a table was awaiting for her, and apparently someone too, according to her lookout in the Buttes-Chaumont park. Arriving at the entrance, the restaurant was designed in the classical sense, yet with modern notes here and there. The concierge opened the door and nodded, taking her name, an alias and showing her way to the table that was facing the massive window that gave sight to the beautiful park in front. It was lightly filled, but such was the usual with it as she recalled. Not many had the money to pay for the delicacies that they served and not many had the time to enjoy the sights. New Paris was still a nervous planet with the downfall of the Royal Throne and one could smell the lack of peace of mind in the people.
As the concierge pulled the chair, Kalliste Silver nodded with a fake smile and sat, pulling a small cigarette case and its lighter from her pocket onto the table and finally looking at the man in front of her. Her head titled to the side and her eyes narrowed as the concierge left the table. Twirling the lighter on the table and not waiting for the socially accepted protocols of greetings, she spoke.
"So. What do you want?"
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
19th arrondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont New Paris Il-De-France,
05/26/ 827 AS, 18:00 The man watched for a second as Kalliste took a hit from the cigarette before approaching. He seemed surprised by her character at first, but that was probably the point. He was robust, and by his getup he appeared to be as straightforward as she was. He didn't quite carry the same "looming terror" gig that she did though. He was dressed formally, and spoke with a very neutral Libretonian accent. 'Good evening miss Silver.' He said before taking a seat in front of her.
As he sat down, he reached inside his coat and pulled out two folders. Both labeled with the same insignia that appeared over the communication between the too. He tossed them on the desk. Anticipating Kalliste would peak into them, he spoke up.
'I need you to recover some lost... products. Go on, take a look, I think you'll be more than interested. We need both of them alive. We'll allow any means necessary. But client confidentiality is something we'll also need to make clear.'
The man took one of the glasses of water from the table and took a sip. Waiting for Kalliste to eventually peek at the second file.
'I think you, and some others in your group will be very interested in this one.'
The man pushed forward the second file, the groups insignia was stamped over it just as it was on the other. The name to the side read: "Subject 777 Mk4 Annabelle Mychaela Heinrich"; the other: "Subject 777 Mk5 Una Freyja Kidman".
The man put his glass down, laying back in his chair anticipating either a surprised reaction, or an excited one.
More of the same, she thought in the beginning. But then again, she had felt the pull, something that was missing for the better part of the last two years. Even when the Royals crashed down, and the guns went silent, she wasn't content as she expected. And now this. What seemed as your run-of-the-mill contact for yet again another sweetened words and blood money to kill in the name of, the pull was instant. And she did what she always has done when it happened. Going for it, eyes open, smile in her lips.
And boy, did she smiled when she saw Heinrich's name.
"I don't know the second one. But I do know the first."
She leaned back in the chair and placed a finger in the air. Less than five seconds, a very clean, sharp waiter appeared. She started to talk in french to him, ordering some appetizers by their local names and as the waiter appeared, he went away quickly. Looking back at the man and the files, she took a smoke from the cigarette, letting the smoke enter her lungs.
"Queen of the Omegas. Loved her work with them Brets. Ass fucked them like a slut on prom night, and left without leavin' a number or a dinner date afterwards."
The smoke lazily rose up in the air, as her eyes slightly lost focus as she was remembering something from her past. With a smirk, a very lovely yet almost malicious smirk, her eyes rose to the man.
"And a heck of a pilot for that shit hole they call the 'Megas. A frickin' devil. I take it then she's a test tube? Pitty."
The waiter returned with a glass of whisky and two plates filled with different delicacies, ranging from shaved truffles over a small piece of warm pasta to what it seemed small fish garnished with herbs and garnat oil. Putting the cigarette away, she nodded at the waiter and smelled the aromas without removing her eyes from the man.
"Guess you can say, experiment successful, bub. She's doin' quite the number. So..."
That smirk flared up again.
"What's in it for little, little ol' me?"
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
19th arrondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont New Paris Il-De-France,
05/26/ 827 AS, 18:05 'Before I get to that, let me explain something to you. Something you'll need to keep in mind.'
She was quite obviously sold on the job. If for nothing else then the challenge of doing it perhaps. The man took a sip from the wine glass, he nodded slightly to show his appreciation for it before returning to the conversation.
'Both of these people are blood relatives, and descendants of the same project. Annabelle in particular was visited by us in her lifetime prior to obtaining leadership of the Red Hessians, she has honed her abilities since she was very very young. Which is why we need the best pilots who will work for cash and not for the law.' The man reached over, opening the file. As he cycled through, pointing to different parts, he began to speak up again.
'Kidman is the Chief of Homeland Security in the LSF. Tracking her won't be hard at all, you'll just need to pick your fight wisely. If it comes to that at all, but you're more experienced than me in that regard.'
The man took his hand back from the file for a second, going at the small appetizers arriving on the table.
'Annabelle however...
Her disappearance from the Red Hessians was done without a trace, there was no way for us to even guess at where she went. We may have an understanding as to why she left, but not how or where. Others in our organization are working to unravel the pieces to that puzzle, anything they collect will be forwarded to you. I would strongly advise avoiding confrontation in space, and taking her down when she's out-of-craft.
We have a few suspicions as to where she might be, our primary suspicion is Planet Exeter. '
Taking a moment to finish a portion of his appetizer and take a sip from his glass. He reached into is jacket one more time, pulling out a credit chit.
'Two Hundred and Fifty Million Sirius Credits now, Seven Hundred and Fifty Million when the job is done. If you manage to pull this off, we may have a second offer. If there's any information you require during the mission, do not hesitate to contact myself and we will provide what we can. What do you say, miss Silver?'
Her tongue clicked in her mouth, as she played with her food and her eyes were somewhere else, running the possibilities in her head and what she actually knew. Putting her finger into one of the truffle appetizer, she licked it somewhat before looking at the man in front of her.
"Exeter. Liberty Boys. Projects. Hessians. Is it timed? No. Or else.."
Caressing her lips, her trail of thought kept going and her eyes drifted again. Breathing in through her nose, almost as she was smelling something fully, her eyes dropped to the plate and her eyebrow rose.
"And alive. I normally don't do livin'. Junkers? Yes. Yes."
The head tilted to the left, her eyes still in a semi-fugue state and her fingers played with the food as it was play dough. The whisky softly moved in its glass and whatever remained of the cigarette in the ashtray kept exuding a lazy smoke upwards, like a job half-finished. Suddenly her eyes regained focus, as she finished her thoughts and the devilish smirk of an executioner came to her mouth, once again.
"You were already in New Paris or you're a proxy, considerin' the little time it took you to get here. Meanin', you were lookin' for me specifically. Meanin', whoever pullin' yer strings not only has the need, but the dosh. I mean, makin' and breedin' someone like Heinrich? That smells of fat cats or governments black suits. Both of them have the funds to make a girl like myself blush. And I ain't blushin' yet. Make it three bills, bub, and you got yourself a deal."
The smirk turned to a grin.
"This ain't a single girl job. Far from it. This here be a company contract. I got the right colors for the job. I got the right baits for the traps. But the honey is needed to pay for it all. And we never, ever did pro-bono. Sure as shit we ain't gonna start now. Three bills, and I'll even wrap them with a pretty bow tie and an apple between the butt cheeks."
Picking up one of the small fishes, she ate it whole in one gulp and chewed, waiting for the reply of the man.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
19th arrondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont New Paris Il-De-France,
05/26/ 827 AS, 18:10 'Three billion credits it is then, miss Silver. We know you normally don't take people alive, but we also understand bounty hunting is a complicated profession.'
The man stopped eating for a moment. Folding his hands with his elbows on the table, fixing his eyes on Kalliste as he continued.
'Kidman belongs to a lawful body, it can draw in a lot of... "heat" as people put it. If she dies, recover her body, and you'll be compensated for half. Annabelle though, she must survive. We need that precious body alive and well, she would be worth quite a bit with a gentle push in the right direction...
And you are correct my dear, rest assured we have eyes and ears everywhere.'
She chuckled, like she was enjoying the situation. With a small nod towards the man, Silver spoke.
"Should have asked for five, since yer so fast to say yes. Right..."
Grabbing another cigarette, the demeanor instantly changed from playful to serious. It was time for business. The real business. Numbers and reasons are all good, but to hunt, the real business is about tracking. The hunt itself. And considering the feeling she was having, this was going to be a good one.
"I'll need blood. I'll need all the biometrics you boys have. Next of kin, what side of the bed they like to sleep. If any of those girls like to do a line or two of carda, if their piss clear or dark. I want everything you have on them. And I mean, every little quirp, bub. Down to their first grade apple bob. And considerin' what you dropped here, I bet you have them shinnies."
The lighter flipped in her hand and with a trained movement, the cigarette was lit and the lighter continued its journey round and round in her hand. Exhaling the smoke towards the ceiling, Silver continued.
"The devil's in the details. And I hate to assume shit. The more I know, the better. Now mind you, I don't care about the why you're poppin' this. But I do care to know if they like anal, 'cause nothin' better in the 'verse than to catch people with their pants down. Ask Chuck."
The lazy smoke rose to the ceiling and her grin was as malicious as it was mischievous. Nothing she enjoyed the most than the beginning, the middle and the end of a hunt. And considering the latest, the last big score was months ago. The last one that was actual fun. The lighter twirled again in her palm.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
19th arrondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont New Paris Il-De-France,
05/26/ 827 AS, 18:10 'Basic information can be found on those files. We have the latest information on Kidman, eyes in the LSF aren't hard to come by. Annabelle however, our information may be outdated to an extent. She was very careful with her personal information once she took on her role in the Hessians. Her leadership role... that is. V-Files on both will with more in-depth information will be provided too you.'
'Chuck?' The man said upon hearing Kalliste mention his name.
The man smirked a bit in reaction to Kalliste's final note.
'Well, I couldn't tell you that part. Are you sure you aren't asking out of personal interest, and personal preference?' He continued, chuckling as he finished his sentence.
The hand with the cigarette moved towards the files, finger pulling one of them at random. An
image of Heinrich, younger, appeared. Marked with the MND stamp on the corner. Raising an eyebrow, the notion moved her ideas forward.
"Yes. I want to know since I'm going to butt fuck'em into the next century. As for Chuck, he ain't feeling so good after it. Sh** happens."
She took the cigarette to her mouth and her other hand grabbed the whisky glass. Single Malt, Dublin stamped. Sirius has many gifts and this was just one she remembered fondly. Pointing with her index finger at the man, she continued.
"Still gonna need that blood, bub. 'Cause nothin' leaves a trail like that. And all things considered here, I'm pretty sure you have it. Call it superstition, call it old fashioned, but I need me some blood to get me going."
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
19th arrondissement, Parc des Buttes-Chaumont New Paris Il-De-France,
05/26/ 827 AS, 18:25 'We can attempt to pull Kidman's from her aviator's Medical record, Annabelle's, like everything else mentioned - is out of date. We have a sample, but not a fresh one. The sample dates back to a little less than 12 years ago.' He replied.
'I'll need an address to have that delivered too. Is there anything else you need? Maybe another picture to take your breath away?'