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Planet Manhattan, Spaceport district.

Spaceport district is one of the oldest settlements on Manhattan, and by virtue of it's age is the abode of many of the elite. Santos Bolevara noted the abundance of high-rise apartments and the good lifestyle, as it was called...and shrugged. Maybe if he'd not taken up the job that he had, he might have been able to live somewhere like this place. No matter.

Before he could begin, he'd need to pick up his equipment. That had been neatly deposited in a small hotel booking under the name "David Pale". Bolevera smiled to himself at that, and booked a cab to pick up the equipment.

A few hours later, he was hefting several bags with very important stuff in them, and booking another cab which would take him to his target. He rolled his shoulders a bit, and walked in. He'd arranged for a room on lease here while he took care of things. It'd cost a small fortune, and Bolevara really hoped that it would be worth it.

He spent the next few days studying the area and looking for a way in. Apparently his target's home was large, luxurious, and very heavily guarded. As expected. Things weren't looking so good, until he overheard some of the maids talking about garbage disposal. This apartment had centralized trash disposal....Bolevara winced as he thought of crawling through the ducts, but if that was the way, so be it.

Getting into the system via his own room was easy enough, then things got hairy fast. The chute soon narrowed and was littered with systems to reduce and destroy the trash. Bolevara had to use the Electro-magnetic scrambler several times to keep from being chopped into little pieces. And then the passages started getting narrower and narrower, until Bolevara could barely move. The magnetic gloves and boots he'd thought to acquire were helping though, as he climed up the cavernous system onto the top floor.

Finally the chute ended in what seemed like the end of the line. Bolevara sighed in relief, and crawled through into the room.

It looked like the place he'd been told about. Facing him was a fairly large bathroom and a big empty hall. There was a winding metal stair to what seemed like the main living area of this apartment.

I wouldn't mind having one of these... He thought wryly.

He studied the entire area first. There were no defensive measures inside the house, as far as he could tell anyways. A few cameras in the hallways were quickly disabled. They'd loop old footage now.

Main entrance was secured and guarded by scanners and guard patrols from what he could tell. Bolevara made a mental note. Walking away, he ran into a transparent wall. The view was...impressive. He then moved around, noting the locations. Kitchen, Living room, the likes.

Finally he leaned on a wall, trying to rest himself. Maybe he had time for a shower, the trash chutes weren't the cleanest places on the planet. He doubted the owner would mind after what was about to happen...

***

A few hours later, Bolevara was wearing light armor and two side-arms holstered and ready. He'd been told that his target was to arrive shortly, and so he waited.

As she entered and closed in near where he was lounging, Bolevara came out slowly, one gun ready in his hand, but not pointing towards her yet.

"Morning. Nice house" He said by way of greeting. Tightening the silencer on the gun, he continued.

"Let's keep this quiet, madonna. I don't intend to use these, so don't create a situation where I will have to."

Rachel stood just behind the leather couch that marked her 'living room', She heard her guest speaking before her brain had completely registered that she was not alone. Instinctively she began to reach for a sidearm, though there wasn't one to be found.

"The one time I need one.." She thought to herself, almost scoldingly.

Muttering curses under her breath, she turned her head to look at the man standing in her home. She was confused, and even a little scared, though her face didn't show it, instead she grinned wryly toward him.

"You smell like garbage."

Her face twisted in a scowl as she stood there, hand on her side, despite the fact that there was still no sidearm to be found there.

She had known something was wrong the minute she'd landed outside and had been forced to manually enter all her personal information into the security systems in order to gain entry to her home. Now she knew, or thought she knew, why the CCTV systems had failed to acknowledge her presence.

In her head, she cursed herself for being "Stupid enough to fall for something like this, and in my own home even.."

All she could actually do in this moment though, was sigh heavily and lean against the wall, still scowling at her uninvited guest.

"So, who are you..?"

Bolevara nods and relaxes slightly, removing his helmet and revealing a rugged face. He continues to hold a side-arm in his right hand, moving slightly away from Baker and leaning against one of the walls. He grins disarmingly at Baker for a moment before replying.

"Breaking through security can get messy. I did use your shower though...I don't suppose you'll mind, considering I left it even cleaner than it was before. Your cleaning maid is....bad."

He shrugs as he says this. It is a little amusing to him, exchanging quips with a person in her own home, where he has broken in like a thief. Her next question snaps him back to reality, and his visage takes a stern, grim expression.

"I'm...."

What do I tell her? He thought to himself. He was Alejhandro Ramirez, and Frank Salviati, Michael Rodriguez....Bolevara mentally rejected all of that. The entire reason he was here was to cut through layers and layers of obfuscation laid on facts, and he'd be a massive hypocrite if he started with deception of his own.

"I'm Santos Bolevara, Order primary. Take a seat, I've taken a lot of effort to get here, we need to talk."

That was not exactly the most sensible action he'd ever taken, but Bolevara had built a career on being reckless and impulsive, and he was not about to stop now. He'd taken a fairly large gamble, it had to pay off.

She almost grinned at the mention of him having the need to use her shower. Almost. Hearing the man before her readily identify himself as a member of The Order took her by surprise and her facial expression twisted to reflect this, a slight air of panic about her now, her eyes involuntarily shifting her gaze around different corners of the room.

"..The hell is he doing here?...what does he know?.." Rachel thought to herself, letting out an audible sigh.


Rachel took a step away from the wall, back towards the entrance of her apartment, her posture changing to a more guarded stance now as she positioned herself, half of her body facing away from Bolevara as she looked to him with a somewhat icy stare.

"So..what is it that you want, exactly? And why choose me? I'm the most junior member of the Admiralty."

Rachel pursed her lips, clearly more concerned now, by her visitor, than she had been a few moments ago.

"I'd ask how you found me and all that, but I'm not stupid...I know there's more to your organization than what the news vids say.."

She sighs softly, biting on her lip as she leans against the wall again, looking sternly toward Bolevara.

"No need to be so defensive. You'd think I'd broken into your apartment seeing your facial expression...." Bolevara quips in response. Smiling only for a moment, his expression becomes grim again, seeing Baker's subtle movements towards the door. His raises his hand quickly, blaster in hand. His voice is flat when he speaks the next few words.

"Try that and you'll need artificial knee-caps. Sit on the couch. Now."

Once satisfied that she is settled enough for his liking, Bolevara lowers his gun and leans against the wall again. The middle-aged hispanian seems to be slouching, but anyone with training could see the facade. His limbs are loose, ready to move in a moment, and his eyes are moving about, appraising and judging. Finally, he decides to answer his captive's questions.

"If I had to kill an Admiral, I agree David Hale would be a better choice, Madonna..." he drawls sarcastically. "However, I am not here to kill anyone today unless you make me do it. Besides, you looked prettier than the others in the material I collected while planning this." He shrugs ruefully.

He clicks his tongue and laughs out loud at Baker's next words. The laugh is anything but mirthful however.

"You could say there's more. I'd say there's a lot less now. No thanks to you and others. And the fact that you're a junior member is actually quite good. You'll be less set in your ways, hopefully you'll see what others won't."

He leans, retrieves a black backpack that had been lying against the sofa. Rummaging around in it, he retrieves some holo-discs and shows them to Baker. They shine in the light, in a mockery of what lay inside those discs.

"Here, I have what we know of the Battle for Toledo. Footage, logs. Everything important. And now you'll know what happened there" He says in an emotionless voice. Clearly, he was trying to mentally remove himself from reviewing *that*.