FIC: Operation: On The Swell 3/?
Apr. 11th, 2012 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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x_projectAnother (short) instalment from Our (rather sunburnt) Man In Puerto Rico, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dexfarkin.
Edit: But wait! There's more!
“Maybe we can help each other. I have some friends dat not entirely Agency any more. Could run down some of dese people you have tailing you, see if day have any weaknesses.” Remy took a sip from his iced tea, noting that Michael chose the same.
“And why would you do that?”
“Convince you lady friend not to shoot me?” He jibed back. “Look, Michael, dere’s no devil’s deal here. I need someone in Miami wit’ his ears to the ground dat I can trust not to shoot himself in de foot or pass what he hears back up de chain. You don’t trust me? Fine, walk away. De pay is reasonable and I’m not doing anything dat would put you on de wrong side of Uncle Sam.”
“He’s heard that before. And then the bombs get planted.”
“We don’t use bombs.” Ororo said, a touch quiet. “Michael, you seem like a good man. Consider this a contract of conscience. You think your intel is being used the wrong way, you walk. You set up how we receive it to keep yourself in the clear.”
“This seems far too vanilla for the Agency, or a private operator. Who’s behind you, Remy?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Which I have no intention of doing.” Remy held up his hand. “Dere’s other contacts in Miami. I just don’t like dem. You, I think I get, which is way I believe why you said you was burned. Its de only answer dat makes sense.”
“I’m deeply touched.”
“Don’t be.” Remy leaned forward. “Because what I’m looking for could get you killed very easily.”
“Michael-“ Fionna said warningly, but Weston stilled her with a gesture.
“I thought this wasn’t on the wrong side of the American government.”
“It’s not, but dat doesn’t mean dey don’t have protection to operate Stateside.” Remy folded his fingers over each other. “Much like you problem, it seems.”
Michael picked up his iced tea using it as an excuse to pause the conversation and turn over what he’d heard. Remy LeBeau turning up from the dead wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever seen. Deep cover agents operated under a different set of rules. What he wasn’t sure of was Remy himself. The man he’d met years ago had the edge of a starving wolf; dangerous, barely contained, and ready to rip your throat out at the slightest hint of a threat. This man wasn’t the same. The threat was there, certainly, but there was the iron control that only the truly ruthless are able to achieve. Ororo was another x-factor in the equation. She was certainly capable, and there was a serenity to her that made her exceptionally hard to read. She could be even more dangerous than Remy, and he wouldn’t know until too later.
In a situation like this, the only way to get control back was to change the situation itself.
“On one condition. I have a job that I need to finish before I can do anything. It’s a tough one for just us, but with your help, it shouldn’t be that hard to complete.”
“I don’t know if our schedule allows that, Michael.” Ororo said as her eyes flicked over to Remy. It could be a set-up, especially if Syn was a step ahead of them.
“That’s unfortunate, but completely understandable. Well, enjoy Miami. The lobster roll here is excellent. Fi?” Weston got up, motioning for Fionna to join him. Remy rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He obviously wanted a change to observe them while his own sources tried to track down more information. He’d have Doug and North salt some more information, but for now, it was time to play his game.
“Sit down, Michael. Depending on de job, we’re in.”
“The job could-“
“Don’t play stupid wit’ me, Weston. If you got youself into an assassination gig, you know dat Remy goin’ tell you to stick it up you ass. So stop dickin’ around and tell me what you need.”
“There’s a local fence down here named Barry. Moves high end art and bearer bonds, launders money, and does a little forgery in his spare time. He’s done me some favours in the past.” Michael leaned forward. “His business connections have just gotten him into some trouble. You familiar with Juan Vasquez?”
“Cuban ex-pat. He’s the US hinge of a Central American and Caribbean drug triangle.” Ororo nodded. They occasionally moved relics from Meso-American digs that ended up in al-Giber’s network.
“The same. Looks like part of his business got caught in a DEA sting operation last month, including details for several accounts that Barry washed through for him. His accountant was stupid enough to keep the information on his laptop which was seized in the raid. Regardless, because Barry promised the money would be untraceable, Vazquez has decided to blame him for it. If he can’t come up with the money to cover the amount lost in the accounts, Vasquez will kill him.”
“I sense dat dere’s a ‘but’ coming here.”
“Vasquez loves three things; beautiful women, hurting beautiful women who try and leave him, and fine art. There’s a Picasso exhibit coming into town this week, and in it is a piece that Vasquez particularly wants. If Barry can get it to him, he’ll cancel the debt.” Michael said.
“Why not go after Vasquez directly?” Ororo pointed out. “I’m sure Fionna already suggested it.”
“He’s well protected, and not just by his men. He’s been hinting to the FBI for more than two years that he’s willing to consider turning over the rest of the triangle to federal authorities. Which means he doesn’t travel anywhere without a couple of undercover federal agents in his party. Try and hit him, and you risk taking out an agent in the process.”
“Ugly. Picasso’s don’t travel lightly. So we’re talking high level security, and that assumes that Vasquez holds up his side of the deal. Killing Barry regardless would be the smart move.”
“That’s the conclusion we came to.” Fi shook her head. “We can keep Barry safe, or possibly get the painting, but not both.”
Remy looked over to Ororo, and they shared a moment before he turned back. “I think dat we can help. It’ll be tricky though. I don’t like de complication of dese agents. If dey been inside for months, you never know how deep dey really are, regardless of what dey telling dere handlers.”
“I can get some additional information.” Ororo said, without offering further details.
“Michael, tell Barry we’re in. We’ll be in touch and start planning.”
“Why not now?”
“You suggested de lobster roll. Be a shame to run out wit’out lunch.” Remy said innocently, smiling back at him as the younger agent forced himself to return a tight smile.
***
dexfarkin.Edit: But wait! There's more!
“Maybe we can help each other. I have some friends dat not entirely Agency any more. Could run down some of dese people you have tailing you, see if day have any weaknesses.” Remy took a sip from his iced tea, noting that Michael chose the same.
“And why would you do that?”
“Convince you lady friend not to shoot me?” He jibed back. “Look, Michael, dere’s no devil’s deal here. I need someone in Miami wit’ his ears to the ground dat I can trust not to shoot himself in de foot or pass what he hears back up de chain. You don’t trust me? Fine, walk away. De pay is reasonable and I’m not doing anything dat would put you on de wrong side of Uncle Sam.”
“He’s heard that before. And then the bombs get planted.”
“We don’t use bombs.” Ororo said, a touch quiet. “Michael, you seem like a good man. Consider this a contract of conscience. You think your intel is being used the wrong way, you walk. You set up how we receive it to keep yourself in the clear.”
“This seems far too vanilla for the Agency, or a private operator. Who’s behind you, Remy?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Which I have no intention of doing.” Remy held up his hand. “Dere’s other contacts in Miami. I just don’t like dem. You, I think I get, which is way I believe why you said you was burned. Its de only answer dat makes sense.”
“I’m deeply touched.”
“Don’t be.” Remy leaned forward. “Because what I’m looking for could get you killed very easily.”
“Michael-“ Fionna said warningly, but Weston stilled her with a gesture.
“I thought this wasn’t on the wrong side of the American government.”
“It’s not, but dat doesn’t mean dey don’t have protection to operate Stateside.” Remy folded his fingers over each other. “Much like you problem, it seems.”
Michael picked up his iced tea using it as an excuse to pause the conversation and turn over what he’d heard. Remy LeBeau turning up from the dead wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever seen. Deep cover agents operated under a different set of rules. What he wasn’t sure of was Remy himself. The man he’d met years ago had the edge of a starving wolf; dangerous, barely contained, and ready to rip your throat out at the slightest hint of a threat. This man wasn’t the same. The threat was there, certainly, but there was the iron control that only the truly ruthless are able to achieve. Ororo was another x-factor in the equation. She was certainly capable, and there was a serenity to her that made her exceptionally hard to read. She could be even more dangerous than Remy, and he wouldn’t know until too later.
In a situation like this, the only way to get control back was to change the situation itself.
“On one condition. I have a job that I need to finish before I can do anything. It’s a tough one for just us, but with your help, it shouldn’t be that hard to complete.”
“I don’t know if our schedule allows that, Michael.” Ororo said as her eyes flicked over to Remy. It could be a set-up, especially if Syn was a step ahead of them.
“That’s unfortunate, but completely understandable. Well, enjoy Miami. The lobster roll here is excellent. Fi?” Weston got up, motioning for Fionna to join him. Remy rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He obviously wanted a change to observe them while his own sources tried to track down more information. He’d have Doug and North salt some more information, but for now, it was time to play his game.
“Sit down, Michael. Depending on de job, we’re in.”
“The job could-“
“Don’t play stupid wit’ me, Weston. If you got youself into an assassination gig, you know dat Remy goin’ tell you to stick it up you ass. So stop dickin’ around and tell me what you need.”
“There’s a local fence down here named Barry. Moves high end art and bearer bonds, launders money, and does a little forgery in his spare time. He’s done me some favours in the past.” Michael leaned forward. “His business connections have just gotten him into some trouble. You familiar with Juan Vasquez?”
“Cuban ex-pat. He’s the US hinge of a Central American and Caribbean drug triangle.” Ororo nodded. They occasionally moved relics from Meso-American digs that ended up in al-Giber’s network.
“The same. Looks like part of his business got caught in a DEA sting operation last month, including details for several accounts that Barry washed through for him. His accountant was stupid enough to keep the information on his laptop which was seized in the raid. Regardless, because Barry promised the money would be untraceable, Vazquez has decided to blame him for it. If he can’t come up with the money to cover the amount lost in the accounts, Vasquez will kill him.”
“I sense dat dere’s a ‘but’ coming here.”
“Vasquez loves three things; beautiful women, hurting beautiful women who try and leave him, and fine art. There’s a Picasso exhibit coming into town this week, and in it is a piece that Vasquez particularly wants. If Barry can get it to him, he’ll cancel the debt.” Michael said.
“Why not go after Vasquez directly?” Ororo pointed out. “I’m sure Fionna already suggested it.”
“He’s well protected, and not just by his men. He’s been hinting to the FBI for more than two years that he’s willing to consider turning over the rest of the triangle to federal authorities. Which means he doesn’t travel anywhere without a couple of undercover federal agents in his party. Try and hit him, and you risk taking out an agent in the process.”
“Ugly. Picasso’s don’t travel lightly. So we’re talking high level security, and that assumes that Vasquez holds up his side of the deal. Killing Barry regardless would be the smart move.”
“That’s the conclusion we came to.” Fi shook her head. “We can keep Barry safe, or possibly get the painting, but not both.”
Remy looked over to Ororo, and they shared a moment before he turned back. “I think dat we can help. It’ll be tricky though. I don’t like de complication of dese agents. If dey been inside for months, you never know how deep dey really are, regardless of what dey telling dere handlers.”
“I can get some additional information.” Ororo said, without offering further details.
“Michael, tell Barry we’re in. We’ll be in touch and start planning.”
“Why not now?”
“You suggested de lobster roll. Be a shame to run out wit’out lunch.” Remy said innocently, smiling back at him as the younger agent forced himself to return a tight smile.
***
