Owner	Pose
Cassandra Cain	Research is key to most operations. This is no exception; in fact, it may very well prove the rule. Because even a very cursory search of this particular country leads one to powerful conclusions. Symkaria. European country with no exports, it only imports. Zero exports save for one; mercenaries. There is a joke said from time to time about the truly rich. People say that they are worth the total blahblahblah of an entire country. Once in a while, that turns out to be entirely true. Silvija Sablinova, the woman known as Silver Sable, is the entire income for her country. Even getting an appointment to see her costs a million dollars, just for the meeting. It is non-refundable. Her Wild Pack is the most expensive mercenary team ever to walk the earth, and they are known to be a mix of chaos and extreme skill, desperation and a willingness to go to any lengths in order to succeed. A very dangerous mix, when you add in the intense tech that Sable's income gains her access to. The country has small embassies in most major cities. Each one is detatched from the grid; they handle their own power, internet, and food. There are no deliveries, ever. There are no events to attend, to sneak in during. There is effectively only one door, on the roof. The guards are backed by security systems that don't have blind spots; she tests them herself. The picture is one of a major problem. While Sable has family in New York (a Niece, in private school), she has no easy targets. This is no joke. How do we even get in?
Bruce Wayne	Raymond Duchamp is a man who doesn't exist. 'The Golden King', is a professional gambler and international playboy type, an identity that Batman has been building over the last year to help get deeper insights into the European mobs that outsource so much of their crime to Gotham. He's bought several arms shipments here and there, enough to make it show that he's dirty and doesn't care much about cause, only profit. The perfect kind of person for this sort of affair. He offered to meet Sable at the Embassy here for his convenience, as he would be conducting some business here. Whether Sable finds the meeting suspicious or not, Batman cannot know. He put the identity together as tightly as possible, with help from Barbara, of course, making sure he was digitally untraceable. He arrived with Talia by his side, the door of the hired car opened to let them out. Duchamp is a silver fox, a hastily grown beard and Bruce's hair dyed metal-grey, sunglasses over his scowling face. "I presume I am expected," he says in an oily and deep voice, wiping the lapels of his expensive suit jacket and adjusting his tie. "I do not like to wait."
Talia al Ghul	Talia al Ghul is hanging off the arm of Duchamp. Her skin is very pale, hair curled over the back of her head and tied in a bun. The bun has several hairpins in it that are all clearly blades that have poison on them. She's wearing a dark bodysuit that is offset against her pale skin. Contacts give her eyes a firey red disposition. One hand holds a metal war fan, and a large katana is strapped over to her back and a Chinese bow next to it. She's making a point of looking over each and every aspect of the place on the approach. Evaluating ambush points, escape locations, crossfire positions, security.. And her given name is Maki Matsumoto. It's fairly easy to play off a reputation from someone that already has one after all. And that's known to work for whomever pays well. And that a gambler might need someone hanging off his arm in a place full of heavily armed guards for his own warrant. She's looking at each person in the eye quickly. Evaluating where they hold their weapons. Armor.
Barbara Gordon	Some distance away an unmarked van was resting off to the side of a hiking trail with the van marked with the logo and insignia of a made-up hiking tour company. Inside the van, Barbara is setup with a multi-monitor arrangement in front of her, dressed in a form fit black sweater, black slacks and boots. With her fiery red hair tied up on the crown of her head, Babs wears a pair of simple black framed reading glasses as she stares at the monitors, one keyboard directed to each monitor in front of her, and each with specific purposes for upholding Bruce and Talia's cover. But more complicated, are the A.I. powered drones that Babs had brought along for this mission. These drones have been flying in over the countryside for the past little while, having arrived above the location site a few minutes earlier. The drones were capable of multiple kinds of camera perspectives, from standard HD to an infrared that allowed them to see in the dark if needs arose. In the mean time though, Babs is just listening via comms hidden away on both Bruce and Talia's forms. She's also poking at a box of Chinese food that was acquired some time earlier in the day. Chopsticks are just too fun not to play with your food with in down moments.
Cassandra Cain	Sometimes it's good to be rich. It appears that in order to get Silver Sable's attention, you don't call. You either know how to get ahold of her, or you don't. A message dropped in the Hellfire Club got an appointment, a helicopter arrives to pick up the client. Potential client. The moment that word reached the embassy, computer experts began digging to find out who it was, and anything they could learn about the person requesting access. Nobody gets in without a full check being done, and Barbara in her Power Vehicle was made to intercept a barrage of system requests. They were prepared, there was no fumbling or inexpert work. The computer geeks that Silver Sable has on her payroll are well worth the money. But she's better. So the order goes through, and the helicopter picks up those who are going. To be dropped off on the roof of the embassy, guards with custom rifles looking both toward and away. No less than eight guards, to keep the client safe while also monitoring said personages. Duchamp and Matsumoto are allowed to land, but it's just as crystal that the security is two-sided. The guards don't respond, but an old granny-type lady appears. In a German accent, she says, "Speak not to them. They are on duty." She lifts her chin, then nods. Once. "Come," she says. Then she turns to lead the way downstairs. The door is reinforced and is one of many, an airlock-style entryway that somehow looks gilded and refined. It leads into a hallway, with rich appointments and soft carpeting. Instantly you're transported in your minds to a better place, an older time. It screams 'money'. And the old lady walks onward, her eyes glancing back. The guards did not follow.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne keeps the head swinging to a minimum, but the sunglasses help with that. He marks any surveillance cameras for what they were. The old woman was unexpected, perhaps, but paranoid control freaks had a habit of drawing outcasts and outliers to help them, people whose loyalty they can depend upon totally. Even turns them into a strange kind of family. Bruce Wayne could sympathize. Batman didn't give a damn. Raymond Duchamp, however, mutters under his breath, "What is all this? Should be a simple business exchange, why all the hoity-toity humpty dumpty? Ech, no thank you. Are we going to be able to get a drink at the end of this trip, madame? A glass of wine, just for the pretense of civilization?" The rings on his fingers have a variety of weapons attached. He keeps Talia to his side, neither one flagging the other yet, but prepared to go back-to-back if cornered.
Talia al Ghul	Talia al Ghul would hang off the arm of Master Duchamp. She goes to move to rather blatantly evaluate the placement over of the guards and their professionalism. As the old lady gestures at them to approach, she moves to give the older lady a quick bow. It's informal. She has her own duties here after all. A quick glance around the room while Talia does her own quick survey of camera points, possible firing slits, booby traps, bulkhead doors.. Everything is as it should be. She doesn't give compliments, doesn't speak.. She's loyal - so long as she gets paid. There's no need for small talk. No compliments given. If they're not doing a good job for what they're paid then clearly it's an issue of the organization. She's not going to go out of her way to offer a freebie after all. As the two are gestured to come along she takes a few steps back and then takes her place one and a half meters behind Bruce at a fourty five degree angle. And keeps that placement -exactly-.
Barbara Gordon	With her operation here in full swing, Babs has her box of Chinese food set aside. She's taken over manual control of one of her drones, and is piloting it via an XBox controller in toward the building's roof. With the patrolling guards at their furthest points from the incoming drone, the remote vehicle sweeps in toward a stone ledge, where it lands with a little soft bump of tiny metal struts against cold concrete. The glow of the monitors in front of Babs reflects off the lenses of her glasses, as she begins to scan the entire property for any hackable devices. Idealy Barbara is looking for open computer terminals, or even Smart Speakers that she can hack in to to directly hear what is happening inside the structure itself. Her ear-piece to Bruce and Talia picks up what is directly happening around them, but knowing more beyond that is always a nice bonus. The drone that Babs landed just settles back in to a non-descript corner of the roof's structure, where it just near-silently scans, and relays information back to Barbara's van.
Cassandra Cain	The drone has a lot of fun; there really isn't anything to hack...until there is. Then there's no way in, until suddenly there is. You could have sworn that there was no access point there, but a deeper search comes up with a way in, allowing Barbara to pop into the audio system and hear what's going on. That was weird though, but computers are sometimes finicky. Still, results matter, and now she's got an audio feed and possible options to get in deeper. There are some files that can be accessed, allowing her to see most of the company's ...work history! Jackpot! Inside: The position behind Duchamp allows Matsumoto to see things that Bruce could not. The way that systems deactivate when he passes, then reactivate afterward. She's being scanned, but he is not! It appears that the computers that run the place allow privacy for the big boys who are paying the bills, but are giving her no such leniency. "This is a business, not a social gather," the old lady says gruffly. "Miss Silver will tell you..." "She will explain for herself," a sharp voice says from a door which opens ahead. Not the end of the hall, merely a side door. But inside is a woman in a long white dress, which hides very little. She is tall for a female, and clearly athletic beyond regular means, but as a gymnast would be rather than a lifter. Her hair is white, falling to her shoulders, and her posture is perfection. "Lorna, please get us something to drink. Raymond, come in." She turns her back on them both and strides to a desk, upon which she leans. Not sits, leans. "We've much to discuss." Only when the old lady, 'Lorna', has shut the door behind her does Silver Sable raise an eyebrow. In wait.
Bruce Wayne	Raymond Duchamp takes the open door as an opportunity, stepping inside as if he owned the place. His arrogance was obvious, swagger in every step. He keeps fidgeting with his rings, turning them now and then. Some sort of nervous tic, it seemed. "I didn't mean to sweat the old broad. I'm sure she does very good work at...whatever it is she does," he sahys. He confidently walks over and takes a seat, gesturing to Talia, "Stand here, please. You ain't no good t'me sittin' down." "Miss Sable, it is, of course, a great pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you, of course. I don't know if I had eever come to your interest before, I'm a...bit player compared to you, naturally, but I like to think I'm on the rise?" "I want to talk about girls. Certain girls. I was hired by a client to acquire these girls, by any means, but I discover taht your operations have already begun in this area and so I must ask myself - what the sweet fuck is goin' on? So, I was hopin' you might enlighten me and I figured it was worth the price to pay to just go straight to the proverbial horse's mouth. That'd be you, Silver."
Talia al Ghul	That's to be expected. Talia isn't hte one that's paying a million dollars to be here. There are also several smaller weapons on her - all of them bladed ones. That's to be expected by security. There are also two long bamboo shoots up her sleeves that have been sharpened to end in points like stakes. The scans are good enough to pick them up even when normal security wouldn't. They're all signs of someone extremely paranoid and that always has more weapons over on them. Talia's here for show after all. There are no ballistics on her, no chemicals beyond some of the poison that her weapons are tipped with.. Then Bruce goes in to start talking over to Sable, and Talia goes dutifully still. This is a discussion between the man that is paying and the woman that he is making a purchase from. In a traditional display of privacy granted, she goes to turn around and give her back to them to look towards the door. This also gives her clear line of sight and sound if the guards maneuver outside or security goes on alert. Of course everything in the room is dull paneled so there's no seeing reflections but it's a start. Talia is on overwatch while playing her role of pet assassin in case something goes wrong. She dutifully listens and stays quiet, almost like a statue. If one could be an approximation of one of the eternally watching gargoyles dotting the Gotham cityscape, she would be it.
Barbara Gordon	Barbara's lips move silently as she talks to herself while watching the monitors, she may not be an 'Only Child' but she did pick up some habits associated largely with a one-child household, and even at age 30 she still finds herself falling in to it while engrossed in her work. Case in point. 'Come on, come on...' she near-silently says until her hacking drone finds a door inside the house's systems. "Got it." Babs says softly then as her eyes start scanning what she has. Audio feeds through the home's speakers, computer access. Full access to the Wild Pack's database. Score. With a few keytaps, a movement of the wireless mouse she'd bought at a little tech store last night, she's already copying files from the hacked databanks in to her own drives within the van, sending some directly via the internet back to her systems in Gotham too. Babs has not been talking to Talia and Bruce much yet, but she does have a audio link to them and does speak up now. "I'm in their system. The Wild Pack has a few active missions. One is in Gotham City regarding what would seem to be related to all of this." She falls silent again so as to not speak over Silver's responses to them.
Cassandra Cain	The lady in white allows Duchamp to speak. Her hands grip the table gently, patiently, and let him get to the point. She nods then, and gives a smile. "I did wonder if we'd get extra attention from that." She rises, stepping to the window, and opens the curtains. A perfect view of outside, the city below, which is amazing since there are a grand total of zero windows visible outside of this building. Perhaps it's a projection? She does not explain. She turns her head, looking back. Not at Duchamp though, but at Makomoto. At Talia. "You're welcome to speak too, my dear. I'm fully aware of your abilities, you're not here as decoration. Never that." She returns, the sunlight warming the room, and seats herself demurely. "How much do you already know? I'm normally bound by client confidentiality, but that is not the case this time." Which is surprising, she's always been a fortress when it comes to her clients. Unless...she has none? She's working on a personal job!
Bruce Wayne	Bruce works his jaw and pops it a couple of times in a precise signal of acknowledgmenet to Barbara without requiring him to speak aloud. He still had a few problems with the damn thing since taking a left cross from Killer Croc a few years back. Might as well make use of it. "I know the Russiasn mafia wants 'em bad and that probably means they got ties to KGB shit or whatever they call it nowadays. I know they're dangerous. Wrong hands, right hands, ain't mine to judge. I know lots of people willing to pay a lot of money for 'em. I would be happy to send such custom your way, in exchange, of course, for a one time brokerage fee of whatever you earn, say...20 percent?"
Talia al Ghul	Talia would turn around over and move to bow her head over then. Not going to speak at all, despite confirmation having been given. She's not being paid to voice her thoughts after all. Now with a bonus.. Her client has his own confidentiality. She just goes to take a moment then to turn around and face Silver Sable with her hands in hte open. Polite. Polite as far as courtesy went of one assassin keeping their hands where they could be trakced and not out of view, or capable of a quick draw of a blade without it being seen. And now Silver Sable goes to say that it's not confidential. Now -that- is interesting. Maybe the client didn't foot the bill?
Barbara Gordon	From her van in some far off location, Barbara continues to scan through the computer files that she'd gained access to. On the roof, her bat-drone sits motionlessly tucked away in to a corner within a nice bit of shade, while up high in the sky above more drones circle the property as they walk the guard patrols. "There's more to this story." Barbara's voice speaks to those on coms. "Her niece's school in Long Island has been receiving large sums of money, hundreds of millions, through shell company transactions from Miss Sablinova... It looks like ransom payments." All of that is said with that same hushed tone of voice, so that Babs' voice doesn't play too loud in the ears of those in operation. "I'm trying to piece everything together, but there's a lot here."
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe had been doing recon around the area, eliminating anything more 'in her wheelhouse' regarding the Symkarian embassy, and arrives to the door of Barbara's van as a second hand to help. She slips in, pulls a hatpin from her hair and sets it down as she takes off her headscarf and shakes her hands through her kinks and coils before leaning lightly against the far wall.     "Is it an all girls school in Long Island?" Phoebe asks quietly, removing a couple of twigs from her hair and jacket.
Cassandra Cain	"You can't have them," Sable says. Bluntly, directly, and without hesitation. "I'm fully aware of your interest, Duchamp. And while normally I'd be fine with discussing the specifics and seeing if we can come to a financial arrangement, the amount of money I'm currently investing into these ladies is beyond anything that even my normal investors could touch." She isn't kidding, if the two issues are linked then Ms Sable is in hock for enough to buy a large hawaiian island. Or two. She sighs, then, and says, "The Russian mafia has not shown any interest, but I'll see if the suggestion has merit. I won't have things jeopardized at this stage." She barely pauses, turning away, and pulls out a bottle from an ice tray. "Wine? I assure you it's quite acceptable." She isn't showing any leniency, this is not going to go through as a contract. But then, Bruce didn't really want that. He wanted information. The building has, to Phoebe's eyes, visible runes. Protective. They really didn't spare any expense on this location! The audio pickups fuzz suddenly, in the van. Just as Phoebe enters. Some form of magical feedback on the audio lines? That IS weird.
Bruce Wayne	Bruce Wayne accepts the wine offered, carefully, but the sipping is mere pretense. He has no intention of being drugged, regardless of whatever assurances he's been given. Sable is cunning enough that she might simply think to dispose of a scumbag like Duchamp. He stands up and straightens his tie, "It seems we cannot coe to an accord. That is unfortunate. I hope at least the girls are well treated? I won't feel quite so bad losin' out if I know it's at least not to some...well, you know the places some o' these girls end up. Even make me disgusted and I've done plenty of disgusting things." The motion of his hands at his tie distracts as his foot lays a microphone and remote tap, frequencies attuned to Barbara's specs. Nothing looks like it's giong to turn hostile yet, but Sable's a cool hand at the tiller, she's not going to let anything slip too easily. "You want them for yourself, don't you? What is it, you want to have Sable's Angels? Some Fox Force Five bullshit? You an orphan? Cause orphans get screwed up in the head, I would know."
Talia al Ghul	Talia is not taking the wine at all. Or even looking over at the pair. She's being paid her part for the exchange, and this is really all she cares about. The bit over about 'significant by my normal investor's standards' does get a half cock of her head of curiousity. Even Maki Matsumoto would have at least an inkling of the sorts of money brokering things like this well armed facility with state of the art weapons and well trained soldiers cost. Much less what a mercenary company's upkeep was. So if it was a lot of money by those standards.. Well, consider hte persona of the mercenary for hire her quite interested - even if done in a very subtle manner. Talia plays very much to her role and the light quirk of an eye vanishes quickly enough. Breach of normal decorum smoothed over. But definitely noticable over to Sable from the position that she's in. Talia sees if that's trigger enough to catch Sable's amusement or for her to elaborate a bit more. Then again.. One iddn't talk about business wiht the hired help.
Barbara Gordon	Outside of the Hiking Tours van there's another surveiling drone in the sky giving Babs a look outside of her own hiding place. Thusly she sees Phoebe before the girl steps in to the van to join her. Upon joining her in the dark space, Babs nods once to the question. On one of her monitors she reaches over to indicate a website that has been pulled up already. 'Cranewood School for Girls' marked on the site's header image. "Northampton. Long Island. Something bad has happened, and I think Ms. Sablinova here is trying to play cool, while suffering from enough stress to make her pretty hair fall out." Of course all of that was said on comms too, though her voice was still kept a pitch or two above a whisper. After a moment of silence though, she continues. "The other active Wild Pack jobs include a Priest involved in some nefarious drug deals, and a research expedition in South America that seems to be a free-of-charge service being offered by Silver. She's an interesting woman, through and through." Babs shifts in her chair then to check on her downloads. "I'm copying everything about the Wild Pack to my drives, cloud and otherwise."
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe looks at the static as she draws close, and her mouth curls into a frown, her fingers curling a little bit as she tilts her head.     And she signs to Barbara that *someone* is listening in on their conversation. She shifts her weight, stretching her fingers out as she forces her shoulders to relax, dark eyes half-closing, the tattooed-on circle around her wrist glowing dully in the dark of the van as she tries to get a bead on the magical surveillance.     How rude, listening to people without the means to catch you.
Cassandra Cain	Silver snarls, just a little bit. "I'd never harm those girls! How dare you sir!" She steps one step toward Bruce, her eyes leaving Talia for just that instant. That was a real, emotive reaction, and one that says a lot about her character. But it's also over as quickly as it began, as she gains control over herself. "This meeting is at an end," she says. And the door opens, allowing the old lady to re-enter. Far too conveniently timed, it's obvious that people outside have been monitoring the room this entire time. "If you wish to hire our services at a future time, I will not hold this against you. But please, only approach me with legitimate business propositions. This is a business, not a backyard gathering. I am here to make money." Yet for all her words, there are clearly lines that she will not cross. And her country being reliant on her reputation is likely a large part of that, since she appears to be some level of sociopath. She does business, and the bottom line is nearly all. Lorna, the old lady, bows and gestures to the door. She has a military bearing, German military to be precise. But her demeanor is not nazi. It's that of their victims. Silver Sable doesn't mention the million dollars used to buy this time of hers; it is gone, and anyone who wants to do business with HER wouldn't worry about a mere million anyway. It's weird though, how things worked out so perfectly. Barbara's drone found nothing to hook into, until they almost magically appeared for her to access. She found exactly the files that would really decipher what was the root problem, and Silver herself dropped clues. Almost like.... She can hear us in return.
Bruce Wayne	Games beneath games beneath games. A touching of blades, perhaps presaging a duel. Perhaps merely taking a measure. Something in Batman relaxes a bit, the more he learns, the more information they've uncovered. He knows her background, of course, at least what little of it can be made public. Enough to know that she has faced tragedy. Enough to know that they are not entirely different. "I assure you, if we meet again, circumstances will be quite different," he says. "I appreciate the opportunity to speak to you." He makes a move to leave, signalling for Talia to follow after him. He could press the matter - he could attack as Batman, step on her throat, scare her away. That's what he would've done ten years ago. He probably wouldn't have even bothered gathering the information first. Batman had not so much mellowed as learned to be more strategic. He understood the value of allies. He still doesn't understand what's happening with those other girls, but their fates do not seem, perhaps, so dire. Which changes nothing. He does have one further message to send and that he will send at another time, as the Batman. Cassandra Cain is off-limits. No exceptions.
Talia al Ghul	Talia has her own thoughts as she comes to similar conclusions. The first is that Sable is beholden to her end of the game. And that she's in a trap of her own. To outsiders, however? That have complete deniability in the exchange that she knows almost nothing of? That's a random factor that she can play. External sources, unknown variables.. THere are always these small little slips of control in the business. At least, that's hwo Talia might perhpas play it. The words 'ransom' and 'lots of money by my standards' do leave that sort of impression. Talia maintains her position over and goes to wait for Bruce to signal.. And then he moves over to take her step behind him once more. Pausing one second to look over at Silver and speak in Symkarian, Japanese accent of the woman she was copying showing through. "Good hunting." The first words she had spoken all night. A ritual of respect passing from one killer to another. Then she's behind Bruce in departure once more, exactly one and a half meters and at a fourty five degree angle behind him.
Barbara Gordon	The initial reaction that Pheebs' telling Babs that they're being listened to, counter-hacked, has Babs instantly envisioning Luke Skywalker shouting 'No. That's not true. that's impossible!' due to her amazing computer skills. But a second or three later and she's picked up on the notion that it's due to a type of hacking far beyond anything Barbara Gordon can control, or tap in to herself. 'Fucking magic.' is what Babs wants to say outloud, but she doesn't. "I think we have a friend on the inside, or someone hoping we're friendly." Babs does say, whether or not 'they' can still hear them. She leans forward then, her hands regaining the XBox controller from the desk, and soon there-after her drone on the roof is spreading its wings and gliding back up in to the sky. "We got a lot to go over here, whether it was earned via my skills, or something else. I think we have something to focus on for awhile though." She softly says in to the team comms before giving Phoebe a sideways glance as her drones are all picked back up by the Oracle A.I. systems to be piloted along with Bruce and Talia's route back out of the meeting site. Constant surveillance.
Phoebe Beacon	Ordinarily Phoebe would agree. She even tries to keep her power on the down-low on Bat-Time.     This time though it was too weird that they waited to tip a hand, and she tries to get a sense of who's looking in on them. Her eyes narrow, her fingers splayed out like antennaes trying to pick up names, visions, flavors of coffee they like, anything to help identity them. Of course, diviniation isn't her strong suite --     -- but she's got magic senses like wow.     -- but it's unneeded. It's signed like a box of chocolates and a dozen roses. And Phoebe's head tilts a moment at the sensation -- because it is a weird sensation even to those who work with Martian telepathy and all manner of weirdness.     But *why* is her question.
Cassandra Cain	When Silver Sable is alone, Frau Lorna Kleinfeldt returns having delivered Bruce and Talia to their helicopter. Sable sighs, then slumps down into her chair. She nods, and the old lady bends over and places a white noise generator. For the obvious possibility of new bugs overhearing. They aren't perfect, so if it's someone like Batman or such listening in, they'll get through eventually. It's a start. "I am getting so tired of this," Sable says to her friend. "So much work, and for what?" "Security, and the ability to conduct proper business again," the Frau says firmly. "It is enough." Sable nods, straightening, and rises. "Do we have more business?" "We do." "Bring them in then." Then she waits, left alone, and tries to look strong. But she leans down, nearer the planted bug, and says softly: "We always keep up an act, don't we? Well, we shall meet again." Then she steps on it, and the message ends.