EARTH The Great Games

Discussion in 'Private Roleplay' started by Claudia Volpe, Mar 11, 2019.

  1. Claudia Volpe

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    Security services tended to keep themselves as separate from politics as possible. She was well aware just how much scrutiny everything done by law enforcement departments came under. Volpe didn’t imagine for a second that the last line had been anything but a hook to catch her attention. There was far more evidence than just the case the attorney general had seen swept away to demonstrate that Claudia Volpe thought that way.

    She help Lucrezia's gaze, trying not to pick at something she could feel stuck between her teeth. It did catch her attention, that was the problem. Not to mention the unspoken fact that the woman in front of her probably had enough on file that could be passed to the wrong people to finish off what she had left of a career.

    “Anything in particular lead to this… requirement you now have?” she asked. It was about all she had left to ask to pad out some time before asking the important questions.
     
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  2. Lucrezia Dionisi

    Lucrezia Dionisi Hell in High Heels

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    “You… have been watching the news?”

    Letizia sighed and leaned forward to top off both their glasses.

    “Don’t let the term ‘Interplanetary Affairs’ fool you. What it boils down to, in reality, is a never-ending slog of compromises and mediation between an over-protective government and the bloated carcass we like to call the economy.”

    “A rogue asteroid and a shootout over Ganymede do not make my job any easier, Miss Volpe. Frankly, I’d always hoped the system would hold a few decades more, so that I wouldn’t have to be alive to see it all go to merda.”


    “But—,” she grimaced at the wine in her glass before tipping a healthy measure down her throat, “since I’m already here and in a position to do something, I might as well, no?”
     
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  3. Claudia Volpe

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    What had happened on Eros? Or to Eros? She wasn't even sure if anyone even knew where it had gone now. The news had been quiet on that front. She took a rather large swig of wine. As an afterthought she downed the rest of the glass.

    Maybe she had thought it would have been smaller than that. Like an ex-husband whose shady businesses needed to be extorted. Volpe imagined that their pension plans and bollocks were all filed away in a drawer somewhere.

    She gave a firm nod. "Off world travel?" she asked.
     
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  4. Lucrezia Dionisi

    Lucrezia Dionisi Hell in High Heels

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    “More often than not, I expect. We’re interplanetary, after all.” She waved her hand and deposited her glass on the polished teak. “Your salary, should you accept, ought to cover any such expenses.”

    Letizia considered her nails for a moment before buffing them on her trousers. “I’d require certain tasks be completed. I expect professionalism and discretion, Miss Volpe, but I don’t care about the particulars – certainly I wouldn’t presume to tell you how to do your job.”

    Her smile was thin as she looked back up. “You would report to me, and me alone.”
     
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  5. Claudia Volpe

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    "Good," she replied. The woman sat before her might have been an incredible liar but it was still far easier to use a lacky or go-between when there were reasons for avoiding a face to face. Claudia didn't have the luxury of demanding a fixed salary and travel expenses.

    "I like to think I can managed those. And I'd like the job. Discretion is always good, but it might be worthwhile getting my UN-wide firearms license reinstated?"

    A brief arch of an eyebrow proceeded her running a hand through her hair. If anything the attempt only seemed to scruff it up more. She could carry a weapon in the good old US of A to her heart's content, but she suspected international travel was just as likely as heading out to the belt.

    Shit, she hoped no one was going to send her to Mars. Their authoritatian secret service wing made the UN look like rank fucking amateurs.
     
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  6. Lucrezia Dionisi

    Lucrezia Dionisi Hell in High Heels

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    “I’ll see to it,” Letizia nodded, swirling the wine about her glass.

    Her gaze wandered to the pictures on the wall again, taking in the scenes of a distant past. There were no windows, and the walls were almost half a metre thick. Dignitaries chose to eat here for reasons besides the excellent menu.

    “You’ll receive a terminal in a few days’ time – locked to your biometrics, of course. When I have need of your services, I will send you the necessary instructions.”

    Finally she turned her gaze back to the mercenary, even and empty. “Any questions?”
     
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  7. Claudia Volpe

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    "Well, I'd like to know when I first get paid, but I assume you have someone who arranges that kind of thing," she replied. It sounded as if she was going to be kept on a retainer to start off with. That first set of instructions was going to be very, very interesting. She wondered when the politician sat across the table had last - if ever - considered where her pay checks sat in the month next to her bills.

    There were plenty of other questions. She would do some digging into Lucrezia's recent past by bouncing some searches off someone else's terminal in a public place later. It had been some time since she had worked directly for the UN and she didn't know exactly what kind of snooping powers Lucrezia was afforded.

    "And I assume you need some biometrics to lock this device?"

    Or have you obtained them from somewhere already...
     
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  8. Lucrezia Dionisi

    Lucrezia Dionisi Hell in High Heels

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    “Have you undergone any genetic alterations since leaving the CT?” Letizia arched a brow to go with the question, amusement playing at the edges of her lips. It was exceedingly unlikely – procedures like that cost an arm and a leg.

    “As for payment – you can expect a sum be deposited into your account each week. I suggest you keep your job with Pinkwater, at any rate. I might not call on you for months at a time, and I’d hate for you to get bored, Miss Volpe.”
     
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  9. Claudia Volpe

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    Politicians shouldn't have been able to access that data at a whim. Which brought another question to mind: how many Claudia Volpe's did she have on her books?

    Why put eggs in one basket when you could have a number of assets available. They didn't send in one person to try and infiltrate a dangerous organisation. They sent eight and then compartmentalised the information to avoid a breach. Eight lives lost would be a tragedy, but it was the lives of millions they safeguarded through the intelligence lines.

    Now Luctezia wanted personal reports. Of course for a politician if they were compromised the game was over anyway, so why not keep everything in one head?

    Another asset on retainer like her would find a way to deal with her if the bitch bit the hand that fed.

    Perhaps she was being paranoid. It was probably what she was going to end up being paid to do. She made a mental note to quietly do some digging to see if she could made some educated guesses as to who else was on those books. There was more to do than that. Old contacts in the belt would need to be tapped to see how many eyes and ears she could gather. Add value to what the client pays for, one of her earliest lessons. If only they'd told her to do what attracted less attention instead of doing what felt right. Well, they had, but she could be stubborn like that.

    "Nothing like that," she replied, glancing at her own finger tips. "And I'm already bored, so I wouldn't worry about that too much. And thank you for the meal, that was exceptional," she added. It was hard to tell if there was any humour hidden in the smile she gave
     
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  10. Lucrezia Dionisi

    Lucrezia Dionisi Hell in High Heels

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    “My pleasure, Miss Volpe. I do believe this is the start of a prosperous relationship.” Her smile seemed genuine enough as she rose to shake her hand again, her grip firm and warm. Then again, you could never be sure with someone whose career was built on lies.

    “Do let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” The doors of the salon slid open, interrupting the link in the faraday cage embedded in the walls.

    Had it been Azim who had first taken her to this restaurant? She couldn’t quite remember, though she’d certainly sat in that room a number of times since, listening to corporate and government types alike.

    In her experience, the difference was only cosmetic.
     
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