(no subject)
Jason Cain closed the door to his inner office after sending Amy on a pointless errand. Anderson Jakkes was currently on the leather sofa, holding his hands to keep them from shaking; the after-effects of the taser playing havoc on his nerve endings.
Cain opened the bottle of scotch he'd kept for celebratory purposes, pouring the velvety liquid into two tumblers. "And the slayer?"
Jakkes took the proferred alcohol in his hands, using both to lift the glass to his lips. "By now, nestled into a comfortable bed and licking her wounds."
"Bloody well took long enough," Cain grimaced. His timetable depended on several factors, the least of which was ensuring they had an information pipeline inside Rupert's damned crew.
Jakkes took a large gulp from the glass, the liquid burning his throat. "Not my fault."
As if on cue, J.C. Williams exited Cain's private bath, using a hand towel to wipe spittles of shaving cream from his neck. "It needed to be believable."
Jakkes shook his head. "And what the fuck was the girl and the sword?"
"She needed to be part of the rescue, Anderson," J.C. replied. "It wouldn't have been enough for Ema just to appear with an interesting story."
"Witnesses," Cain offered.
J.C. nodded.
"Wouldn't have minded a heads up," Jakkes grumbled, finishing his drink.
J.C. crossed over to pour himself a scotch, adding two ice cubes. He swirled the liquid in the tumbler. "Right, and the lack of fear would have sold it."
"The point is," Cain interjected, "the girl needed to be broken, and accept J.C. as her saviour. And while I'm sure the Stephens woman isn't completely sold on J.C. turning his back on the Council, the seeds have been sewn."
Jakkes shrugged. "And could you take those things out?" he said, pointing to J.C.'s "bloodshot" eyes.
J.C. laughed, pulling out a small container from his jacket pocket. He slipped the contact lenses out of each eye, replacing them in the circular packet. "Had to look the part."
Cain offered Jakkes a refill, which he gladly accepted. "The Brighton safehouse is yours; obviously no one would believe a defecting Council member would remain in London proper And you'll have to give up the Town Car."
"Then I should get started," J.C. responded. "But before I go, I want to see Kara."
"Is that wise?" Jakkes questioned.
"The Council is all, but she's my daughter. She'll ask questions if I disappear without touching base."
Cain finished his drink, setting the tumbler onto his desk. "And given she's a student at the Academy, there's a good chance that bit of information will filter through to Rupert as well."
"Solidifying what Ema tells him," J.C. nodded.
"And putting us one step closer to upsetting his carefully laid plans."
Cain opened the bottle of scotch he'd kept for celebratory purposes, pouring the velvety liquid into two tumblers. "And the slayer?"
Jakkes took the proferred alcohol in his hands, using both to lift the glass to his lips. "By now, nestled into a comfortable bed and licking her wounds."
"Bloody well took long enough," Cain grimaced. His timetable depended on several factors, the least of which was ensuring they had an information pipeline inside Rupert's damned crew.
Jakkes took a large gulp from the glass, the liquid burning his throat. "Not my fault."
As if on cue, J.C. Williams exited Cain's private bath, using a hand towel to wipe spittles of shaving cream from his neck. "It needed to be believable."
Jakkes shook his head. "And what the fuck was the girl and the sword?"
"She needed to be part of the rescue, Anderson," J.C. replied. "It wouldn't have been enough for Ema just to appear with an interesting story."
"Witnesses," Cain offered.
J.C. nodded.
"Wouldn't have minded a heads up," Jakkes grumbled, finishing his drink.
J.C. crossed over to pour himself a scotch, adding two ice cubes. He swirled the liquid in the tumbler. "Right, and the lack of fear would have sold it."
"The point is," Cain interjected, "the girl needed to be broken, and accept J.C. as her saviour. And while I'm sure the Stephens woman isn't completely sold on J.C. turning his back on the Council, the seeds have been sewn."
Jakkes shrugged. "And could you take those things out?" he said, pointing to J.C.'s "bloodshot" eyes.
J.C. laughed, pulling out a small container from his jacket pocket. He slipped the contact lenses out of each eye, replacing them in the circular packet. "Had to look the part."
Cain offered Jakkes a refill, which he gladly accepted. "The Brighton safehouse is yours; obviously no one would believe a defecting Council member would remain in London proper And you'll have to give up the Town Car."
"Then I should get started," J.C. responded. "But before I go, I want to see Kara."
"Is that wise?" Jakkes questioned.
"The Council is all, but she's my daughter. She'll ask questions if I disappear without touching base."
Cain finished his drink, setting the tumbler onto his desk. "And given she's a student at the Academy, there's a good chance that bit of information will filter through to Rupert as well."
"Solidifying what Ema tells him," J.C. nodded.
"And putting us one step closer to upsetting his carefully laid plans."