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Agent Smith (Paris - Le Chiffre Elusive Target)

The invitation

Smith: Well, well, well. Look who we have here. 47: Agent Smith? Didn’t recognise you with your clothes on. Smith: Awkward, I know… What are you doing here? 47: Assignment. Smith: I figured that out. You are not here for Murillo, are you? 47: No, I’m after Le Chiffre. Smith: Interesting. I was hoping to flip him tonight against the General. 47: I was hoping to beat him. You have an invite to the game? Smith: As a matter of fact, I do. 47: I need it. Smith: Straight to the point as always. Look, this might be doable. I think I may already have been compromised. There’s a certain gentleman here… 47: Are you gonna give me another three minute speech? Smith: Hear me out. I help - you listen. Understood? 47: Yes. Smith: Okay. There’s a man upstairs watching the casino floor, a Mr. Winding. Ex informant for the agency until he went dark. We believe he is working for Le Chiffre. 47: And he knows who you are? Smith: Yes. He could blow the whole operation. 47: And you want me to take care of him? Smith: Wouldn’t hurt. 47: I do this, you give me your invite. Smith: It’s a deal.

47: It’s done. We have a deal? Smith: I knew I could rely on you, 47. Thank you. 47: The invite. Smith: Yes, of course. I will have your back if anything goes down, I promise. 47: Thanks. I’ll be fine. Just stay out of my way. Smith: Ever the straight talker. Gotcha.

Rescuing 47

Smith: Are you okay, 47? 47: I’m fine. Just get me out of here. Smith: Oh, wow, look at you, Agent 47 tied to a chair. I can’t believe it. 47: Agent Smith, I don’t have time. Smith: To think I finally get to be the one saving you. How many times have you bailed me out? There was Hong Kong, Romania, Saint Petersburg, Hokkaido… 47: Agent Smith! Smith: Oh, sorry. Got carried away. Let me untie you. There you go. 47: Thank you. Smith: Uh, where are your clothes? 47: Don’t know. Woke up like this. Smith: Well, I know how that feels! But you can’t play poker in your underwear. Well, you can, but that’s a different kind. Here, you can have mine. This tuxedo doesn’t really feel like me anyway. That’s better. But be careful on the way out. There are more guards outside. Don’t worry about me, just go. Good luck.

#npcs #hitman #hitman fandom #paris #agent smith

Agent Smith (Ambrose Island)

Smith: Hey! 47! Hey! Grey: Heh… Friend of yours, 47? 47: Mr. Smith. Smith: You’re a sight for sore eyes, 47… I’m on real thin ice with Interpol. This assignment was supposed to be a gimme. Tag along undercover on some tankers, monitor the crews for any suspicious contact with pirates, support local law enforcement investigations with whatever info I found… Should have been a piece of cake… 47: Do you need some help? Smith: Yeah. I haven’t heard any keys on their leader when she comes by. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s keeping them somewhere private like an office. If you can get those keys and open this door, I can get myself off this island. 47: Got it.

47: You should get out of here. Smith: I’m gonna have to add you to my Christmas card list at this rate… Listen, you see that car battery over there? She hooked up the cage to it and turned the juice on when she wanted to screw with us. 47: Interesting. Smith: I’m not gonna tell you how to do your job, but I wouldn’t lose any sleep if she got a taste of her own medicine. 47: Consider it done.

Shit, now’s my chance! See you around!

#npcs #hitman #hitman fandom #ambrose island #agent smith

Agent Smith (Hokkaido)

Smith: Hooh! Holy shit, I thought I was gonna turn into a popsicle. You? 47: Mr. Smith. Smith: Wait, you, you were at the Pine Cone place in California. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were following me. 47: But you do, so you won’t. Smith: Riiiight. So, what the hell are you doing here? No? … Silent type, right. Yeah, me first, okay. All right… I’m with Interpol now. I was working a case. Organ harvesting - real bad business. And I followed the trail from Rio, but Doctor Ito, he’s the one they call the Curator, he found me snooping around and locked me up in the freezer. Okay, now you. 47: You should get out of here. Smith: Heh, yeah, good advice. That’s, that’s right… Oh wait, I found this in the Curator’s office. Knowing you, it’ll probably come in handy. 47: Thanks. Smith: No, thank you. That’s thrice I owe you. Good hunting. Okay, now to lay low, get some warmth back inside this body and then get the hell out of here.

#npcs #hitman #hitman fandom #hokkaido #agent smith

Marcus Stuyvesant (Dubai)

Looking at Cornelia

Jesus, why is she not alone? And with Lucy Phillips of all people! I told her not to attract too much attention.

Shit! Cornelia’s not alone. I have to wait.

Damnit. Cornelia, I told you to come alone. Why is she talking to Lucy Phillips? I’ll go back for now.

Can’t believe she’s still there.

God, will that irritating woman ever leave?

Oh, come on, I hate clingy artists.

Looking at the art

Marcus: This is fascinating. I never would have guessed Lucy Phillips’ work could achieve this scale. Impressive. She might be annoying as hell but she’s very talented. Bodyguard: Yeah, it’s all very nice, sir. Marcus: Magnificent. It really is.

Marcus: Ah, look at that. So sensual. Beautiful. It’s so… alive. Like the lights have brush strokes, textures. Beautiful. Bodyguard: It’s all very pretty, sir. Marcus: Hm… yeah. Quite a piece of work.

Marcus: I’m so proud of my Cornelia. To think she could pull all of this off. And thinking she had lost me. Bodyguard: Yes, sir. It’s magnificent. Marcus: Yes, let’s move on.

At The Sun

No. Still not feeling the sun. Humph, I have to talk to that useless technician lady again.

Why is this not working? So unprofessional. Art is money and it needs to be perfect. I… I’ll talk to that air head technician again.

I don’t know. Still not right. I don’t feel or sense the heat. I need to talk to the tech people again.

With Carl Ingram in the meeting

Stuyvesant: Where is he? Where’s the Sheikh? Ingram: It’s a busy day for him. Surely we can give him a few moments. Stuyvesant: Do you know what he wants to talk about? Ingram: No, but I’ve known this man for a long time. He wouldn’t call us up here without good reason. I trust his people will have multiple scenarios ready for us very soon. Which reminds me… We need to discuss Alexa. Stuyvesant: What’s there to discuss? She left us. At the most critical moment, she abandoned ship. That family has never been trustworthy and Alexa proved to us that she, and indeed any of her heirs, isn’t up to the task. Ingram: I agree. She showed extremely poor judgment. I hope Omar is able to step up. At this time in particular, we need a solid foundation to rebuild from and someone to help us hit that traitor Edwards where it hurts. Stuyvesant: Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Ingram: When I get my hands on Edwards, I’m gonna wring the little bastard myself. The beatings my loving father administered will be like gentle strokes compared to what he has coming. Stuyvesant: I think it’s safe to say this situation has revealed some structural weaknesses in our organisation. We’ll deal with them as swiftly and as harshly as we have been taught by our predecessors. Now… what’s holding up the Sheikh?

Stuyvesant: I just hope the Sheikh comes through soon. We’ve helped him for years, paving the way for all his glory and all the construction of this monument of his. I’m tired of waiting and living in perpetual hiding. Ingram: One thing is certain. This will not be my final legacy. I will not allow Providence to end with me. Whatever it takes, Edwards will pay and we will take our seats back. Mark my words.

Ingram: You know, Marcus, my father taught me many things throughout my life. Loyalty, respect, dedication. Edwards has betrayed all of those. I look forward to teaching him the most important thing my father ever taught me. The power of fear. Stuyvesant: Either way, Sheikh Omar needs to get a move on. His hospitality has been impressive, but I’m not here for the hors d'oeuvre! I want to see results!

Stuyvesant: Don’t get me started on Carlisle and her ridiculous need to ‘sort her affairs.’ What affairs? Clearly sorting out this giant mess should be top priority, but no. Not for Madam Carlisle. Ingram: I can’t help but wonder if Alexa’s insistence on tagging Edwards before he went to that preposterous island gathering of his is what set this whole thing off. I never did like the twins.

Stuyvesant: Oh, we’ll take care of Edwards, alright. I’m not leaving this mess for Cornelia to deal with once she takes my seat. My family has dealt with situations far worse than this over the last five generations. This… this is peanuts! Ingram: I consider this a temporary setback, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give it everything we have. This old business with the ICA and that Burnwood character rubs me the wrong way. Edwards must have planned this for a long time.

Ingram: My father gave me the keys to an empire when he handed over his stake in Providence. My grandfather practically built the American coal and oil industry. There’s always been an Ingram at the very forefront of power. I’ll be damned if I’ll allow Edwards to destroy that. Stuyvesant: Regardless, once this is over, Madame Carlisle is out. We can’t tolerate her abandonment of this project in favour of personal petty matters. If Sheikh Omar comes through today, we should offer him her seat.

Stuyvesant: Where is he? What’s the meaning of letting us wait around like this? Ingram: If he’s caught up in some meaningless handshaking situation right now, I swear to God…

Stuyvesant: I’m not in the mood for this. If he doesn’t show up soon, I’m gone. Ingram: This is taking too long. I’m an important man.

Stuyvesant: This is ridiculous. I’m leaving. Ingram: Yes. You’re right. No point waiting around any longer.

Stuyvesant: What’s this? Carl? Did you do that? Ingram: I certainly did not. I have no idea what’s going on. Grey: Gentlemen. Ingram: What’s the meaning of this? Stuyvesant: You! You’re the one responsible for all this! Grey… what do you want? Grey: Something that has been a long due. Revenge. Ingram: Revenge? How banal! You killed Cobb, Novikov, Caruso, the Washington twins, everyone at Haven, you broke into our bank and you outed Providence to the world. Whatever perceived slight we’ve done to you is insignificant to the amount of damage you’ve caused us, you’ve caused the world. Stuyvesant: You’re a murderous terrorist. Nothing more. What did we ever do to you? Grey: You specifically? Nothing. Providence? Everything. Providence made me, and at the flick of a pen, Providence broke me. I’m just returning the favour. Providence has ruined the lives of countless people, expecting and facing no consequence for its actions. You take for yourselves and those who support you and you burn everyone and everything else to the ground from the comfort of the shadows. No more. Stuyvesant: You’re delusional. Ingram: Exposing us achieved nothing beyond moving a few pieces around on the board much more complicated than you can fathom. The world believes we’re dead. What more do you want? Grey: Me? Nothing. My friend, however… well, let’s just say he’s a bit of an expert. I’m just here to watch you die. 47, finish it.

With Cornelia Stuyvesant

Marcus: Thought that little cow would never leave. Cornelia: Dad! I’m so glad that you’re alive! Marcus: Cornelia! I’m glad you are safe. Cornelia: Dad, you have to tell me what’s going on. Marcus: I will. One sec, let me just get a drink.

Marcus: I am so sorry everything has turned out this way. But you have to understand, this might be the last time we’ll ever talk, face-to-face at least. Cornelia: What do you mean? You can’t just pop up from the grave and… Marcus: I know. I am really, truly sorry. Cornelia: What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into? What the fuck, dad?! Marcus: Look, I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything, but… I promise it will all work out. Cornelia: No, no that’s not good enough. One minute I’m crying over your grave and the next you call me and say, “Hey, hon, guess what, Pops is still alive?” That’s so cruel. Marcus: I know. But you have to understand. When you have as much wealth as we have, you have to sometimes work with some… very bad people. Cornelia: What, like the mob? Marcus: Only politicians deal with the mob. This… this is much worse, and you have to understand this is why I had to do this. To protect myself, and most important, to protect you. Cornelia: From what, dad? Who can be worse than the fucking mob? Marcus: It’s the wheels that turn the world in motion. Now, Cornelia, you need to listen to me very carefully. I am part of an organisation, one of the biggest cogs in the system if you will, but one of the minor wheels has grown steadily dangerous and we must make immediate repairs. Cornelia: We- who the hell is we? Marcus: All in due time, my bunny, it’s complicated. But in short, someone is in the process of a hostile takeover of everything that is dear to me, and he is a very dangerous man. Cornelia: Okay, so now what? You just pretend to be dead? Marcus: We had no choice! Everything was compromised, but… me and one of my partners are fighting back to fix this. And we will succeed. And… and… how can I put this? Cornelia: I don’t know. Try. Marcus: It’s always been your legacy to take over my duties when I retire. It’s been like that for generations. You need to accept that. You have no choice. Cornelia: Jesus Christ, dad. You know I hate your other businesses. I only tolerate this because you’re my father. Marcus: But look at what you have done with the art foundation! You’ve built it to become one of our biggest businesses, you, you alone. I am so proud of you. And when we regain the throne, I want you to be my heir. Please, honey. Say yes. Cornelia: Screw you. This is too much. Marcus: I know you’re upset, but think about it. I’ll have someone contact you, but for now, and maybe forever, you have to accept me as dead. Cornelia: I don’t believe this. Marcus: I love you more than anything else. Just think about it. I’m going now. Bye, my dear. Cornelia: Goodbye, dad.

With Omar Al-Ghazali

Omar: Marcus. Hope you are keeping yourself out of trouble. Marcus: Trying to keep a low profile. Omar: So, have you talked to your daughter? Marcus: That’s none of your business. Omar: Everything here is my business. You are my guest. Did you know that Carl is wondering why you are down here? Marcus: Carl is not my keeper. And you better keep your mouth shut! He can’t know I contacted her. Omar: Don’t worry, Marcus. Your secret is safe with me. Carl knows nothing, and I hope you won’t forget that. You know, I gave you a very moving eulogy during my speech. Marcus: I’m sorry I missed it. Omar: Yes, so am I. Stay safe. And remember who your friends are. I hope your talk with your daughter gives you some closure, and you remember I’ve done you more than just one favour. Marcus: I will.

With his bodyguard

Marcus: Let’s keep a low profile. Come with me. Bodyguard: I got your back, sir.

Marcus: Too crowded. Let’s go this way. Bodyguard: I’m right behind you, sir.

Marcus: Okay, we should stay low. This way. Bodyguard: Yes, sir.

Marcus: I need some fresh air. Keep your distance but your eyes open. I want to blend in. Bodyguard: Yes, sir. Got it.

Marcus: Right. You know the drill. Stay in the background and cross your fingers that creep Voltaire doesn’t pop up again. Bodyguard: You won’t even notice I’m there.

Marcus: Okay, I want to check the miniature diagram of the exhibition. Try to stay a few feet away. I don’t want to attract too much attention. Bodyguard: Don’t worry, sir. I’ll keep my distance.

With the guards

Marcus: Excuse me! Has my replacement guard turned up yet? Guard: We still haven’t heard from him yet. But we know he’s in the building. I’m sure he’s just waiting his uniform and he’ll be up soon. Marcus: Well, get back to me when he’s reported for duty. And remember to check his papers first. I don’t need to waste my time with some newbie. I expect the best! Guard: Of course, sir. We’ll let you know. Marcus: Just get him up there, or I’ll make a personal complaint to His Royal Highness. And you don’t want that.

Marcus: What’s the update on my new guard? My current one has been on duty for way too long, I need security that’s sharp and focused. Guard: Sir, we have word that he’s arrived. We’re just waiting for him to turn up. Marcus: Good. Remember to check his papers before you call me. I don’t want some snot-nosed newbie. Guard: I’ll be sure to contact you soon as he comes up, papers vetted and all. Marcus: You better.

Marcus: Hello. Any update on my replacement guard? Guard: We know he’s arrived. I’m sure he’s just changing into his uniform and he’ll be here very soon. Marcus: I’m glad to hear but I don’t like to be kept waiting. Make sure he has his papers and call me, okay? Guard: I’ll call you as soon as he turns up. Marcus: Good. And please, when I come back, no more excuses. I’m a personal friend of His Royal Highness, Omar Al-Ghazali.

With the senior technician

Marcus: Hello? Look, I already raised this issue with you once but the Sun is not radiant enough. You really need someone to fix this, otherwise this installation has no meaning. Understood? Technician: Sir, I apologise, we are looking into it. Marcus: That’s what you keep saying. Just get it fixed. How hard can that be? You still have my number, right? Technician: I tapped it into my speed dial. Marcus: Well, that’s one thing you’ve got right. Get it fixed and call me. But I will be back to check no matter what.

Marcus: Why is the Sun not fixed yet? If this was one of my… I mean, if this was a professional gallery, this exhibit would be closed. Everything has to be perfect. Now get the Sun fixed. Technician: Oh, it’s you again. We are doing our best. Marcus: Look, I don’t care for your constant excuses. Fix it. Or do you want me to go complain to His Royal Highness personally? You still have my cell number, I hope? Technician: Uh huh. I still have your number, sir. Marcus: Good. It better be fixed when I come back.

Marcus: Excuse me. The Sun is still not as it should be. Do you know how expensive this installation is? Everything has to be perfect or it has no purpose. Technician: I’ve passed on your concerns and I promise you someone is looking into it. Marcus: Just get it fixed and call me when it’s done! You still have the phone number I gave you, right? Or have you forgotten that as well? Technician: Of course I still have it. Marcus: Well then, fix it! Call me when it’s done.

With the technicians

Marcus: Excuse me, I’ve talked to one of your people inside the exhibition but I think she’s kind of slow. Maybe you can help? Technician: I don’t know, I can try. Marcus: The Sun. It’s not as bright as it should be, do you know why? Technician: Sorry, I’m just backstage muscle, I don’t know anything about the tech stuff. Marcus: Okay, that doesn’t really surprise me. Well… thank you for your help. Have a nice day. Technician: Same to you, sir.

With the bartenders

Marcus: Have you managed to find that bottle of 60 old? Bartender: I’m sorry, sir. We are still looking. Marcus: But you have a bottle, right? It has to be 60 years old. Bartender: Of course. The Royal Highness has the best selection in the world. Marcus: Good. Let me know when you found it

With 47 (as a guard)

Okay, you must be my new escort. I have very high standards. I trust you will do your duty. You have your credentials on you? … Okay, let’s see here. Well, you have been around the world. Mumbai, Italy, France, Japan. This is a very impressive CV. I think you’ll do. Okay, walk with me. I need to go through some ground rules.

Well, this all looks very promising. Yes, good… Ah, you worked for Dawood Rangan? Hope you weren’t there on the day of his tragic death. Okay, this all looks very good. Come on, let’s walk. I need to tell you a bit about what I expect from you.

Hm, let me see here. Yes, that looks good… Oh, I like it. A cutlery expert, no less? I have no idea what that means, but your CV is very impressive. This looks perfect.

Marcus: I expect you to be by my side 24/7 unless I say otherwise. Bathroom breaks are of course permitted but only when I say so. I have a very important and delicate meeting today, in which I expect you to keep your ears closed but your eyes wide open. Understood? Now, your papers were indeed impressive, but I need to see what you can do with my own eyes. My father used to take me hunting. He was an avid hunter. I personally hated it but always admired his skill with a knife, and grew to appreciate what it takes to gut an animal. Have you ever tried to gut an animal? 47: Yes. Marcus: Good. Then you know it’s not so easy as it looks. Like trying to stab a rubber ball. It bounces back if you don’t stab it correctly. We’re almost here. You have to understand, I didn’t get where I am by blind faith. Okay we are almost there. You see the shooting targets? Any fool can shoot a target. But with a knife? That’s where the talent lies. My father always used to “if you are good with a knife, you’re even better with a gun.” I want to see your skills. I don’t know why but I’ve always trusted a man who could throw a knife. I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with that statement. So, show me what you got. Do well and you work for me. Fail, you get out of here and I never want to see your face again. Let’s just hope he’s half as good as you were. Guard: Only time will tell but I doubt it. Marcus: You cocky idiot.

Nice throw! That was quite spectacular! Look at that! Not bad at all.

That was a magnificent performance. I like you. I think we’ll get along just fine.

Marcus: Okay, I think I got the right man now. Thank you for your services and take the rest of the day off. You deserve it. Guard: Thank you, sir. It was an honour. Marcus: You impressed me, you really did. But let’s get to work. There are some things you should know about me and this is very much on a need-to-know basis. I’m here incognito. So I want you to stay close but not too close, especially when we’re out in public. If you see a man with a bodyguard, that draws attention, understood? Yeah, of course you do. Come on, follow me.

47: Sir, we might have a problem. We need to find you somewhere safe. Marcus: Of course, lead the way.

47: I’m sorry, sir, but we may have a potential breach. Please follow me. Marcus: That’s not good. Please, after you.

Do you have any idea what the emergency could be? I can tell by your silence that you probably don’t, otherwise you’d fill me in, right? You are a man of few words.

Okay, hope it’s just a fire or something. It sounds cynical, I know, but with things going on in my life right now, a simple fire would be a walk in the park.

Is it just me who’s in danger here? I don’t see a lot of panic going on. I should call Carl. He’d call me if there was anything.

I hope this is just a precaution. If not, I need you to take care of some other things afterwards. You really don’t talk much.

47: You should be safe here. Marcus: Good. We’ll just wait then.

You have no idea where you’re going, do you? I’m stopping here. I’m sure I can find somewhere safe.

Nope, you’re just leading me around in circles. I don’t like this. I think I’ll find somewhere safe by myself.

#targets #hitman #hitman fandom #dubai #marcus stuyvesant

Dialogue I just heard while playing Isle of Sgail

Edwards: Good evening, Sophia. Sophia, on the other side of the room: … smug bastard.

#I DONT KNOW WHETHER TO LAUGH OR CRY

I really need to actually use this blog

#AAAAAAAA #my problem is I never have ideas of who to do next because there’s so many good options!!

Mendoza NPC Dialogue (The Guests)

Reporter

Cameraman: Ready, Pam? Three, two, one, and… Reporter: For more than two decades, New York based law firm Morgan, Yates and Kohn has been among the most successful and the most controversial companies in the United States. Founded in the “greed is good” downtown era of the mid 1980s by Kenneth Morgan, Don Yates and Theodore Kohn, the firm quickly amassed an impressive client roster, counting such corporate behemoths as top investment bank Milton-Fitzpatrick and Van Orten Tobacco. A reputation for ruthlessness and dirty tactics no doubt originating with the notorious affluenza defence of murderous socialite Chelsea Whitmore has long stuck to their name. But despite the persistent outrage of progressives, the firm has enjoyed a seemingly never ending streak of successes and legal triumphs. This, however, may be changing. Just a few months ago, senior partner Ken Morgan passed away unexpectedly at the Himmapan Hotel in Bangkok, and now another of the founding partners, Don Archibald Yates, in front of whose Argentinian vineyard I am currently standing, has announced his retirement from the firm. And so, the burning question in the upper echelons of corporate America is this: has Morgan, Yates and Kohn finally run out of steam? I am Pam Kingsley reporting live from Mendoza, Argentina on GNN News.

Reporter: Cut! Neil, what's this asshole doing in my shot? Cameraman: Im sure the gentleman didn't mean to, Pam. Isn't that right, mister?

Reporter: Geez, can you believe these people? Think the whole world is their playground… Cameraman: Don’t let them get to you, Pam. Let’s just take it from the top. Reporter: Fine. You’re right.

Reporter: Hey, asshole! What the hell is wrong with you? Go away! Cameraman: Don’t give them the satisfaction, Pam. He’s clearly a jerk. Let’s just go for a break. Reporter: Unbelievable.

Outside the party guests

Man: Valentina must be over the moon about Don stepping down. She’s been living alone here for, what, six years, ever since the scandal that ruined her career. Woman: Are you kidding? That’s the perfect marriage. Man: I’m sorry to burst your bubble and finely aged cynicism, but the Yates are genuinely crazy about each other. They’re the proverbial power couple. Valentina was always Don’s most trusted advisor and vice versa. Some say she’s the brains behind some of his most famous court strategies. Woman: Huh. Talk about insult to injury. Man: What do you mean? Woman: Oh, it’s just that one of Yates’s clients is the rival to the Semaphore phone company, which got exposed in the data leak that ruined Valentina’s career. In fact, Yates would have lost his first high profile case had it not happened. I guess her loss was his gain. Man: Huh. Didn’t know about that. Well, I guess if they can survive that, they can survive anything. Woman: Except retirement?

Woman: No way. Guys like Yates don’t retire. He can pretend he’s going to be a full time wine maker, but if he’s leaving Morgan, Yates and Kohn, it’s because he has a better offer. Man: He’s a founding partner in the most powerful law firm on earth, how do you top that? Woman: All I know is he’s been burning the midnight oil and he’s not prepping for a case. Yates isn’t winding down, he’s gearing up. Some kind of private consultant job, perhaps? Mafia consigliere? Papal advisor? Man: Honestly, if Don Yates walks into a church, I’m fairly sure he’ll burst into flames.

The front of the party

Man: Thank god it’s finally over. That extra security detail was driving my wife and kids crazy. Woman: We lucked out. Heralds say a handful of operatives were lost, but I figure they’re downplaying. We’ve all seen the news. Lots of powerplayers dropping like flies. But as long as we don’t know who everybody else is, it’s hard to call their bullshit. How did they recruit you? Man: I was approached by the old Constant during my senior year. Liked my thesis on plutocracy. Got me a position with Schaeffer-Moore, then Morgan, Yates and Kohn, then Hamsun Oil. I must have skipped twenty years of corporate climbing. Before I knew it, I was Secretary of State. And all I had to do was answer the occasional call, do the occasional favour. Seemed a sweet deal at the time. You? Woman: My tech startup was caught up in a losing fight with one of the Big Five. I won’t mention any names. Then a Herald shows up, says he represents a kind of corporate super structure that is willing to acquire my startup and cover the cost of the lawsuit without asking a single share in return. All I would have to do… well, you know the rest. Man: I’m reasonably sure I helped get Richard Ekwensi elected. Securing Providence access to the country’s rhodium mines. But the Heralds never reveal their grand scheme, do they? So there’s no way to say for sure. Sometimes I find myself wanting to know what I’ve been accessory to over the years. Other times… Woman: I hear you. Ignorance is bliss.

Man: It’s the damnedest thing to be sure, like a golden age detective novel. First, an old money aristocrat dies who just happens to control half the world’s shipping enterprises. Then on the night of her funeral, mind you, the younger sibling is murdered in his sleep surrounded by his closest kin. And the motive? Well, this, as they say, is where the plot thickens. See- Woman: Wait, don’t spoil it. I’m waiting for the true crime podcast. Man: Oh, you won’t have to wait long. We just secured the publishing rights. I got the author of the Jack Sparta novels to do an adaptation based on the testimony of the PI who cracked the case. Woman: That was fast! I’d expect a prolonged bidding war. Man: As it turns out, the family is strapped for cash. The Carlisles have had a rough year.

Man 1: One of the most gifted surveillance specialists ever to graduate from Kent. Run one of our interrogation black sites for a while, and I tell you, those prisoners folded like lawn chairs. I couldn’t believe it when she left the agency to go into politics of all things. Man 2: Well, Vidal is nothing if not unpredictable. Man 1: I read her file, of course. Parents were political, fought on the side of the junta. And Tamara always was a firebrand. Still, talk about wasted potential. Man 2: Well, you’ll be happy to know that she still “dabbles in the dark arts.” Man 1: Oh? How’s that? Man 2: You already know Kronstadt R&D invests heavily in surveillance tech. Well, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but Tamara Vidal represents one of our biggest private sponsors, and she’s been instrumental in developing a cutting edge new line of nano-drones. Man 1: Is that a fact? And who might this client be? Man 2: You’re the CIA. You figure it out. All I know is she played an unusually hands-on role as a technical advisor. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had her tiny spies buzzing around this place recording everything we say. Man 1: Balls! I miss the Cold War.

Inside - Ground Floor

Man 1: See that guy over there? That’s Don Yates’s fixer from New York. Man 2: That… is Corvo Black? Man 1: Don’t stare! He’s busted heads for less. That man’s a beast. Man 2: I know the stories. Started out in narcotics, got fired for misconduct, not to mention head butting an internal affairs officer. He turned PI and eventually turned up on the pay roll of Morgan, Yates and Kohn as “an investigative consultant.” Man 1: Right. Evidence tampering. Witness intimidation. The odd bit of B&E. A regular jack of all trades. I take it you heard about Reggie West’s hit and run? Nasty business. I suppose everybody needs a Corvo now and then. Man 2: I wonder what he’s doing here though at Yates’s retirement party. Man 1: Yates is the kind of man who keeps his enemies close. I figure old Corvo is not here for the hors d’oeuvres.

Woman 1: Nothing quite spoils a party like your guests inexplicably dropping dead. Who were they again? Woman 2: Couple of old money scions. Ingram and… something Dutch sounding? I bet Sheikh Al-Ghazali was the real target. Everyone knows the family funds terrorism. Did you see any of it happen? Woman 1: No, they were discreet about it. I got a glimpse of a body bag but that’s about it. It was only when someone realised that the elevators had stopped working that the word caught on. Imagine all those socialites descending two hundred flights of stairs on foot. Woman 2: Guess all those personal trainers finally paid off.

Man: PTSD, huh… you buy it? Woman: It’s not unreasonable. Think about it. De Waal was kidnapped by the militia and held hostage for weeks. He was forced at gunpoint to disclose the existence of Providence in a public broadcast, and those animals would probably have executed him like they did Thomas Cross if our security team hadn’t broken him free. I would need therapy. Man: So De Waal survives just long enough to retract his statement, appoint a Providence backed successor as CEO of Ether, and then he suddenly slips in his bathtub during an anxiety attack? Woman: It’s odd, I don’t deny it. But take Godfrey. He’s gotten it into his head that the Partners are all somehow dead and that the Constant runs Providence in their place. Conspiratorial thinking is a rabbit hole, my friend. Man: But… if they murdered him… De Waal was a rat but he had no choice. Woman: He did. Just not a very attractive one.

Staircase

Man 1: The Constant works in mysterious ways. I just don’t get his fascination with this Burnwood woman. Man 2: She is brilliant. Perhaps even his equal. Man 1: So? All the more reason to keep her at arm’s length. Man 2: That’s not how he sees it. Burnwood is passionate and passion can be directed. People who want to change the world are the easiest to corrupt. Man 1: I say it’s a trick. He wants something from her. Probably that assassin of hers. Man 2: No, there’s more to it. Burnwood went up against the Constant and lost, but she came too close for comfort and now winning is not enough. He doesn’t just need to beat her, he needs to convert her. Man 1: Sounds like an unhealthy fixation if you ask me. She kidnapped him for Christ’s sake! You sure it’s not just a case of Stockholm Syndrome? Man 2: This is the Constant we’re talking about. Don’t worry. He’s got Vidal watching Burnwood’s every move. That girl has eyes in places I didn’t even know existed. Man 1: That’s something at least.

Man 1: What do we even call him now? Man 2: We’ll have a new Constant soon and Partner doesn’t make sense when it’s only him. Man 1: I’m sure he has something in mind. I take it he told you about the new policy. Man 2: I thought he was joking at first but I do take his point. The West doesn’t call the shots like it used to. Whole new power dynamics popping up left and right. There are other groups emerging, faster, meaner, hungrier. If we want to stay relevant, we need a new edge. Man 1: There’s a reason Providence has been able to stay hidden for so long. The Partners were all about the long game. Cold War spy craft meets mafia style quid pro quo. They flat out rejected the Constant’s plan when he first proposed it. Called it foolhardy. Man 2: You can’t resist an idea whose time has come. Thanks to Ether’s old popular genome mapping service, we basically have the DNA of the world elite on ice. Now. Why spend years creating the leaders of tomorrow when we can just blackmail and coerce the leaders of today? Man 1: And I suppose now we know what that DNA specific Ether virus was really for. Christ, did he plan this whole thing years ago? Did he see it all coming? Man 2: Part of me wants that to be true. I’ll sleep a lot better knowing he’s infallible.

Man 1: Carl Ingram I knew about. Back when I lobbied for Milton-Fitzpatrick, he was the conservative kingmaker in DC. Never mind your accolades or pedigree, anyone gunning for office would have to pay fealty to the old bastard. But Stuyvesant and Carlisle? Man 2: The names are everywhere you looked. Museum wings, concert halls, private foundations and scholarships. We just never noticed before. Man 1: It’s true. If you’re not in the media, you don’t exist. Man 2: A few generations, though, they were the talk of the town. On a par with the Rockefellers and the Astors. Man 1: I just can’t help but be a little disappointed. All this time, wondering who the Partners were, playing the guessing game, I was expecting more of a “holy shit” reveal. Presidents and kings sort of thing. You know what the Stuyvesants’ primary field of income was last year? Insurance. Man 2: Just goes to show. Empty vessels make the loudest sound.

Upstairs

Woman 1: CEO of Kronstadt. I dare say congratulations are in order. Woman 2: Close call though. I was third in the line of succession after Robert and Sierra Knox, but then the pesky Kronstadt board of directors decided to hire an outsider. Former chair of the applied science division at Caltech with a rep for being incorruptible. With her at the helm, our friends would have lost control of Kronstadt altogether. Luckily for us, she went and wrapped her car around a tree. Brakes, apparently. Woman 1: That is… fortuitous. Woman 2: Anyway, Kronstadt stays in the family. Same as the other assets. Woman 1: So the Heralds keep telling us. By their account, those terrorists barely made a scratch. Woman 2: You don’t sound convinced. Woman 1: How are we to tell when we don’t know who’s who? No, I don’t believe the Constant had this situation under control. I even hear he was kidnapped. Woman 2: He must have done something right. Wouldn’t have been promoted to Partner otherwise. Woman 1: I suppose. Don’t really care either way. Providence paid my way and I’m grateful, but I paid my dues. If they were to disappear, the sun would still rise tomorrow and I would still be Governor.

Dexy and Heidi

Heidi: What are we doing here, Dexy? Dexy: Monumental Records are long time clients of Morgan, Yates and Kohn. I thought we’d come show Don our support. Heidi: He’s a blood sucking leech. He’s like evil incarnate. Dexy: A free bar is a free bar, Heidi. Heidi: How is any of this relevant to our promotional tour? Dexy: The Class always had a strong following in Buenos Aires; you and Quentin have a 52% recognition rate. That’s impressive in a fragmented post-monocultural market, especially since Jordan was always the frontman. Heidi: We’re not The Class, Dexy, we’re… Dexy: The band formerly known as The Class, minus Jordan Cross. That’s the reality, Heidi. You don’t like it, we can still accept the live gig with Seraphina. She plays arenas. It’s good steady money. Heidi: Pass. I do have a shred of dignity left. Dexy: Oh yeah? Want me to hold onto that for you? Heidi: Screw you, Dexy. Dexy: It’ll be fine, dear, you’ll get a hit and make lots of money. Hell, you might even see some of it once Quantum Leap and Dynasty Global and all other streaming platforms have taken their share. You just smile and do what rockstars do best, dear. Heidi: Yeah? And what’s that? Dexy: Get drunk on somebody else’s dime.

Upstairs 2

Woman: I tell you, whoever thought they were doing the world a favour by bumping off Rico Delgado and his fixer Andrea Martinez needs a crash course in history. Man: I think one last drug lord would be a good thing. Woman: Not if they’re the lesser evil. Rico Delgado was a son of a bitch but he was our son of a bitch. Plus a stabilising factor for the whole region. Now, the cartel is in the hands of mad dog Hector Delgado, and he’s about three Colombian neckties away from a full scale drug war. Man: The Morenos? Woman: Somehow, the mad bastard’s got it into his head that Martinez and his brother were killed by a Moreno assassin who infiltrated their ranks. He’s purging his own sicarios at random and they, in turn, are ratting on each other like 1950s Hollywood. It’s a hot mess. Plays merry hell with the construction and real estate market. Man: Perhaps someone should take steps to retire him. Woman: With ICA off the board? Good luck finding someone crazy enough.

Upstairs 3

Man: It’s a nice gesture, but a bit hubristic, wouldn’t you say? He’s not even been appointed yet. Woman: Caution and modesty has never been Don Yates’s style. Did you see the wine list? (whistles) Man: I’m more of a beer man myself, but if Yates wants to bring the Heralds closer together and play the modern boss, I don’t actually mind. Edwards always was a bit aloof. Woman: Plus he has good reason to be confident. He is Edwards’ closest legal advisor. Not even Thomas Cross or Eugene Cobb had a direct line of contact. I say Yates is at the top of a very short list. Man: So how do you feel about Burnwood? Woman: How do you think? She and her friends killed Yamazaki. Cassidy. Probably Bronson. How is she fit to be a Herald? On the other hand, people defect all the time and she’s most certainly qualified. Man: True. The Constant knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t mean we have to like it.

Balcony

Man: Oh, it’s her, alright. I’m good with faces. Woman: Hm, I thought she’d be taller. Man: Everyone looks tall on a stage. She’s changed her hair but that’s still Tamara Vidal. Woman: Oh shit. She had all the pundits shaking in their boots a few years back. What was her party called again? Man: Future Federation, it was kind of a crypto-fascist movement promoting “meritocratic corporatocracy” with a splash of transhumanism to lure in the Silicon Valley types. Woman: Sharp dresses, though. Man: At Pax Mundus, we did a report about the geopolitical ramifications should Future Federation ever get into office and trigger a regional surge to the right, but the party lost momentum when Vidal stepped down. Woman: Was there some kind of scandal? Man: Nothing public. She just… left. Must have gotten a better offer. You know how these firebrands are, always ready to cash in some of that political capital for a corner office.

Upstairs 4

Man: Manny Russo of Goldberg and Partners calling for Vera St. Martin, please. Thank you. … Mrs. St. Martin, just calling to check on those accounts we discussed. … Correct. … Yep, Panama, Dominique and Costa Rica. And my instructions were followed to the letter? … Splendid. I shall inform Mr. Yates. … Your guess is as good as mine, Yates’s mystery client is setting up a Kafkaesque labyrinth of staggering complexity. Shell companies and phantom accounts looping on themselves like a Morbius strip in a bad suit. I got a nosebleed just thinking about it. … Okay, okay, okay. Between you and me, I couldn’t help but follow a few breadcrumbs, and here’s the strangest part. The money all seems to flow from another older shell organisation called… Providence. Name rings a bell? … Yes, that terrorist transmission a few months ago. Now, the thing was controlled by three families, very old money, the Carlisles of the Carlisle shipping group, the Ingrams’ steel and oil tycoons, and the Stuyvesant real estate moguls. … Yes, I see you read obituaries too. That is when I decided to do as my mentor taught me, cash my cheque and mind my own goddamn business. Words to live by, yes? … Well, same to you.

Tables

Man 1: So, what’s your take on these ICA papers? Hell of a thing. Man 2: I’ll say, as if we haven’t had enough market turmoil this year. Man 1: It’s just disgraceful how an agency like the ICA could exist and thrive for so long without the public’s knowledge. Man 2: Boggles the mind. Man 1: That it does. That it does. Yeah, I do wonder though… Man 2: Yes? Man 1: Well, just for the sake of argument, uh, say one had an, um, urgent problem, and one found oneself without one’s usual, uh, oh, how should I put it… Man 2: Service provider? Man 1: Yeah, precisely. What I am getting at is, all those shady drug lords and foreigners and what not who find themselves in need of a new such provider? I was just wondering how they might go about… that? Man 2: Uh-huh. Man 1: Hypothetically of course. Man 2: Right. Well, I’m… clearly not the right sort of person to ask. Man 1: Of course not. Just making conversation. Man 2: I certainly wouldn’t be in a possession of a phone number to one such individual. Man 1: Surely not. Man 2: And even if I were, I certainly wouldn’t be inclined to pass it on. Man 1: Well, no, that would be wildly unethical. Man 2: Right. So. Good talk. Food for thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shot in the arm. Ask for Stone. Good man. Reliable. And don’t mention the nose.

Tables 2

Man 1: I’m saying, no other law firm has this kind of brand penetration. Man 2: So people all over the world know that Morgan, Yates and Kohn are a bunch of soulless assholes? Good for you. Man 1: Not good, great. 94% of my cases never go to trial. Why? Because the moment the other side hears the name of Morgan, Yates and Kohn, they know shit’s about to get ugly. They know they’re entering a Category 5 shit hurricane, and they can either settle or get neck deep in that chunky brown water. Man 2: And here I was so looking forward to the buffet… Man 1: The Chelsea Whitmore trial gave us some notoriety. Ken “The Brick” Morgan’s affluenza defence is the stuff of legends. But really, it was the documentary about Van Orten tobacco that made us a household name. Van Orten sponsored a well drilling property in subsaharan Africa, only to spike the ground water with nicotine to boost their customer base, and my friend and mentor Don “cojones” Yates got them off on a technicality! It was beautiful. Man 2: Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. If you’ll excuse me… Man 1: Something I said?

Tables 3

Woman: Awful shame what happened. It was the most charming little village. Almost made it onto the UNESCO world heritage list. Must have been some rainfall. Man: Yes, terrible, terrible shame. I blame climate change. Nothing we at the Mendoza local council could have done about it, of course. Man plans and God laughs and all that. Woman: So you don’t think the construction of a brand new dam right on the other side of the village might have had anything to do with the flooding? The dam that conveniently redirects the underground water flow to this very vineyard, bypassing the local ban on irrigation? The very same dam that was donated by a foreign benefactor whose name is lazily “Yates” in reverse? Man: Nonsense! Mr. Setay is an honest businessman, and Mr. Yates is a pillar of the community. He would never think to break the rules. He, a gentleman of the law? You should be ashamed of yourself, ma’am. Good day to you!

Tables 4

Man 1: Those Llosa brothers sure are taking their sweet time. Man 2: Right? This Argentinian barbecue thing better be worth the wait.

Man 1: It was a short stint, but they made their mark. The Ark Society will never be the same, they can take pride in that, I suppose. Still, I can’t imagine what old Byron must be going through. Man 2: Zoe and Sophia burned fast and bright. Everyone knew they lived on borrowed time. Man 1: Still, his only daughters… Man 2: Byron Washington mourned his daughters long ago. No, it’s why they died that has him in a rage. Man 1: Right. They were assassinated. Like Thomas Cross and all the others. Man 2: The twins were warriors. Assassination goes with the territory. There’s a.. kind of dignity to that. No, see, Byron runs Providence’s think tank. He knows stuff the rest of us aren’t privy to, and he believes Zoe and Sophia were not the real targets. They were just collateral damage in a terrorist plot to get to the Constant. Man 1: Yeah, I bet that would send him over the edge. Man 2: The way I hear it, Byron is putting together a special task force to track down the assassin. He’s got the will, the connections and the means. We’ll see how invisible this guy really is. Man 1: Hm. So who do you back for the Ark Society chairman? Man 2: Well, I try to stay out of politics. There’s a lot of support for Engelhorn, Janus’s man. Man 1: Christ, not that insufferable bore. Man 2: But someone is pushing hard for Blake Nathaniel, the adventurer. The same someone who got the twins appointed in the first place, I bet. Anyway, Nathaniel will continue Sophia and Zoe’s bold vision. Man 1: Good. I want to see Titan before I cash in my chips.

Vineyard Stairs

Woman 1: If you ask me, the Constant must have lost his mind. Burnwood was in league with Grey. She’s responsible for killing how many of our people? How could she be a Herald? Woman 2: Maybe Vidal will trip her down the stairs. Those heels are an accident waiting to happen. Woman 1: Don’t hold your breath. Vidal is a true believer. Fiercely loyal to the Constant. Must be why he chose her to show Burnwood the ropes. Figured the rest wouldn’t forgive and forget so easily, sneaky bastard. Woman 2: The man didn’t get to where he is by accident.

Woman 1: Johannesburg called. Woman 2: And from that smirk of yours, I take it Ether is in? Woman 1: Ether, Kronstadt, Hamsun, Milton-Fitzpatrick, Quantum Leap, Dynasty Global. All the big players, now officially under the same corporate umbrella. Woman 2: How does he do it? Woman 1: It’s all so deceptively simply. The Partners created a power cabal bound together by secrets and backscratching. All the Constant did was make it real. Enter the Destiny Group, a fully legal, entirely official, supranational corporate entity. By merging, each company becomes untouchable, moving beyond any state jurisdiction. Granted, there’s a certain amount of legal trailblazing yet to be done, but Yates and his team are confident it will work out. Woman 2: And where will this Destiny Group be based? Space? Woman 1: No need for that. See, it just so happens that the Ark Society bought a swathe of Arctic land from Denmark. Woman 2: The Hypoborea site? The world’s first sovereign corporate state, holy shit! Woman 1: Not bad, huh? That makes you and me ambassadors. The Constant never ceases to amaze me.

Woman 1: So he really was telling the truth, the guy had no idea who he was working for. Woman 2: Remind you of anyone? Woman 1: That’s different, we’re not putting our lives on the line. Woman 2: Tell that to Yamazaki and Cassidy. Hajun was shot point blank in a parking lot. Bronson was never heard of again. Woman 1: Fine, I take your point. Woman 2: Turns out some of Grey’s militia went rogue after he joined up with Burnwood and her assassin. Idle hands and all that. This Orson Mills was caught robbing a money transport in Belgium. A few calls to the right people, and he was ours. The Constant sent an Ether extraction group to ring the truth out of him, but Grey had studied us, mimicked our structure. Mills was recruited by Alma Reynard, who was recruited by Sean Rose… you get the picture. Meanwhile, I don’t know if it was the interrogation drugs or just plain Stockholm Syndrome, but Orson Mills saw the light. He is now one of us. Woman 1: No kidding! Woman 2: He’s joined the Constant’s private security team. Seems there are a few vacancies after the Thornbridge Manor operation. Woman 1: Hm. Well, here’s to new beginnings, I suppose.

#hitman #hitman fandom #mendoza #npcs

Are your requests for specific characters or do you also do NPC chatter? Iirc there were a lot of interesting conversations about edwards/diana/providence in Mendoza but I wasn’t sure if that was too vague of an idea to send your way :P

P.S. Thank you for your hard work! It’s very helpful and interesting to see everything written out like this

NPC chatter’s fine! :) As long as I can find footage online I’m up for anything. That and time obviously. (Honestly I do want to transcribe Mendoza… I’m very Very normal about Providence.)

#asks

sorry I have been busy! feel free to request if you wish because I don’t know what characters to do

Ljudmila Vetrova (Haven Island)

With Tyson Williams and Steven Bradley

Williams: Finally, alright, let’s get this done. This shit show is costing us a lot of money. Vetrova: Any idea what triggered the alarm? Bradley: The system is set up to summon us if it suffers a total server collapse. It might have been an issue with the electricity, we’ve seen that before. Backup gens don’t always kick in fast enough. Williams: So how do we fix it, Steven? Time is money, and every minute the system isn’t working is an expensive one. I don’t have to remind you we’re in the middle of the execution of our biggest contract yet. Bradley: Hey, chill out, Tyson, it’s simple. We all log in and authorise a local system reboot at the same time. Kind of like turning three keys at once. That’ll jump start the system, reroute to remote servers if needed, and we should be back up online soon after that. Williams: Good. Let’s get to it.

Williams: I’m done. Vetrova: Me too. Bradley: Alright. Then we’re good! It’ll take a few hours for the servers to truly get back up to speed. Williams: We need to talk about changing this system, Steven. Soon. Bradley: Yeah, whatever you say. Now if you’ll excuse me, training for ultra running doesn’t just happen on its own. Vetrova: Yes, I have clients to attend to as well. Williams: Fine, go. We’ll all talk later.

With Steven Bradley

Bradley: Alright, I’m here. Let’s talk. Vetrova: I think we’d do well to engage in a bit of privacy. Follow me to the hot tubs. … You, leave us.

Bradley: So you wanted to talk? Vetrova: We have to extradite our plans. Tonight. It has to be tonight. Bradley: What? Why? Vetrova: Steven, we need to leave. I’ve never seen Tyson this paranoid. He’s monitoring my every move now. It’s just a matter of time before he finds out about us. Bradley: Alright, then that’s what we do. I suppose I can trigger the money transfer from my laptop and burn it afterwards. Vetrova: And the database wipe? Did accessing Portman’s computer do the trick? Bradley: That idiot gave us everything we needed to disappear from every online database in the world. Sure, we’ll nuke every hospital and criminal record in the US in the process, but you know, it should work. Vetrova: Wonderful. In case it doesn’t… there’s a guest here. Mr. Rieper. He could possibly help us get rid of Tyson. Bradley: Rieper? Ah, yeah, the late arrival. Bold move, ‘Mila. I don’t think we’ll need it though. The worm should work just fine. Vetrova: But you know me, darling. Always make sure there’s a contingency plan. We can activate him once we’re off the island. Bradley: Okay, I’ll get the last thing sorted out. Tonight, Ljudmila Vetrova and Steven Bradley say goodbye to the world. Vetrova: Good riddance too.

With Immanuel Singh

Wonderful, doctor. I’m sure Mr. Williams appreciates your visit. See you and your, uhm, assistant in the pool bar later on perhaps?

With Jason Portman

Vetrova: Mr. Portman! How are you doing today? Portman: Ah, Miss Vetrova. I’m fine. What can I do for you? You want a beer? Vetrova: It’s a little early for me. No, I was thinking… do you have a moment to talk? Portman: Sure. Let’s talk on the patio.

Portman: So, what’s up? Vetrova: Well, as I mentioned at dinner last night, we’re prepared to pay you five hundred million dollars for your controlling shares in MuchTalk. But as you left, I sensed some… apprehension. Portman: Well frankly, I was surprised to see that goddamn hack Steven Bradley at dinner last night. To discover he is part of your company. Well, let’s just say I’m not impressed. Vetrova: I understand you have a troubled past with Steven. Something about a college project. Portman: Troubled? That’s putting it mildly. He stole my concept and my code and made millions on it. I’m really not too keen on giving him the keys to my latest empire. Vetrova: Perhaps if you looked at it like this. Steven has been unable to construct anything remotely resembling Quantum Leap and MuchTalk. Your work is clearly superior to his. Which is why we’re offering you half a billion. Portman: I suppose. Vetrova: Look, Jason. I feel like we’re very close to making an agreement here, and… well, you did come to us with your… particular needs. How about I set up a nice session at the spa for you? Release the tension a bit. Portman: I don’t know. I have to think about this. Vetrova: That’s perfectly fine. I’ll come by later.

Vetrova: Mr. Portman, I’m thinking… is snorkelling something you’d enjoy? Portman: No. Not in the mood. Vetrova: Ah, of course not. Maybe later.

Vetrova: Mr. Portman, I was thinking… perhaps you’d enjoy a quick drink in the pool bar? Portman: No thank you, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Fine. Doesn’t hurt to ask.

Vetrova: Jason, the chefs just finished a wonderful vegan dish at the restaurant. Care for lunch? Portman: Ah, that’s really not something for me, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: I see. Alright then.

Vetrova: Is Portman still away? Staff: I think so. I haven’t seen him for a while, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Excellent. That’s all.

With Rampart

Vetrova: So, Chef Rampart, how’s it coming along with the new dish? Done yet? Getting a little hungry from the delicious smells here. Rampart: Give me ten seconds, Miss Vetrova. Almost done. Vetrova: Okay, I really don’t have time for this. Rampart: Okay, I hope this suits your palette, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Okay, I’m rather speechless here, um… Let’s pretend I didn’t taste it. I’ll come back, you try again.

Vetrova: Chef Rampart, I’m looking forward to seeing the new dish. Is it ready yet? Please don’t tell me you’re trying to put ants back on the menu. Nobody liked the ants, Rampart: Okay, I’m almost done, Miss Vetrova, just give me a few moments. Vetrova: Unbelievable. Rampart: So, Miss Vetrova, here it is. Please enjoy, I think you’ll find this to be very special. Vetrova: Oh my word. Chef. This is… unbearable comes to mind. It’s just not good enough. Reminds me of my mother’s cooking and that is not a good memory. Try again.

Vetrova: Alright, Chef, I’m ready to try the new dish. Is it done yet? Rampart: Almost there, Miss Vetrova. We have the required ingredients ready and cooking right now. I’m going to personally prepare this for you. Vetrova: This is ridiculous. Just plain ridiculous. Rampart: So, here we are. I really hope you like this one because… yeah, that’ll be nice. Vetrova: Oh, what in the name of- This is terrible! We can’t serve that. I’m sorry, Chef, you’ll have to try again.

This is very… bad. It’s bad. I… I’ll come back. Do another one in the meantime and maybe less of the… whatever that was.

To Ramza El-dia

Vetrova: I’m taking a few minutes for myself in here. Make sure I’m not disturbed. El-dia: Alright, not an issue, Miss Vetrova.

Vetrova: I’m going inside for a private session. Keep everyone else out. El-dia: No problem at all, Miss Vetrova.

Vetrova: I’m heading inside. Don’t let anyone else in. El-dia: Of course, Miss Vetrova.

Vetrova: I’m heading in. Is everything in order as we discussed? El-dia: Of course, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Good. I want the left room all to ourselves. And no screwing up with double bookings like yesterday with Portman and Mr Bradley. I’m still trying to sort out that mess. El-dia: Oh, yes, yes, Miss Vetrova. Again, very sorry about that. Vetrova: Hm.

To ??? (Lounging man)

Vetrova: So good to see you again. I’m happy you chose to take advantage of our services. You will not be disappointed, believe me. We have done an initial pass and everything looks very straightforward. ???: Just what I wanted to hear. I’ll make sure my lawyers are updated and finalise the papers for you to sign. Vetrova: Good, good. Let’s perhaps talk later tonight at dinner.

Vetrova: Oh hello there! We’re almost done with the reputation cleanse. My engineers tell me the algorithms are just set to do a final pass, and once we have the okay, you’re in the clear. Null and void, as we say. ???: Perfect. My agent gave you the highest recommendations but I had no idea you’d be this effective. I’m very happy. Vetrova: Wonderful. Enjoy your stay on the island.

Vetrova: Ah, how are you? Oh, I asked Steven to look into your particular requests, and he said it would be no problem at all. ???: That’s wonderful news, Miss Vetrova. Thank you for your help in this matter. I’ll be sure to recommend your services far and wide. Vetrova: Excellent. I hope you enjoy your time here.

To ??? (pool couple)

Vetrova: Oh, hello there! We’re almost done with the reputation cleanse. My engineers tell me the algorithms are just set to do a final pass, and once we have the okay, you’ll be in the clear. Null and void, as we say. Woman: That is good news! Thank you! Hopefully the last things will run as smooth as everything else. I’m very happy. Vetrova: Wonderful. Enjoy your stay on the island.

Vetrova: Ah, how are you? Oh, I asked Steven to look into your particular requests, and he said it would be no problem at all. Woman: Great, wonderful! I’m pleased to hear that. Thank you so much! Vetrova: Excellent! I hope you enjoy your time here.

Vetrova: So good to see you again. I’m happy you chose to take advantage of our services. You will not be disappointed, believe me. We have done an initial pass and everything looks very straightforward. Woman: Perfect. I’ll phone up my assistant and tell him to go ahead with the initial money transfer. Thank you for your services! Vetrova: Good, good. Let’s perhaps talk later tonight at dinner.

With the masseur

My neck is killing me right now. Really focus on that area, will you, darling? … I think I threw out something in my back yesterday. Don’t be afraid to really use those muscles of yours.

I’m so tense. I really need you to work your magic here. Make my body relax like it’s never relaxed before.

With 47 (undisguised)

Mr. Rieper, is it not? Welcome to Haven.

Mr. Rieper? Nice to finally put a face to the name. Welcome to Haven.

Ah, the mysterious Mr. Rieper. Welcome to our island.

47: Thank you. Are you one of the owners? Vetrova: Yes indeed. I’m Ljudmila Vetrova, co-owner of Haven and your gracious host for Rae stay. I suspect we’ll be seeing more of each other today. 47: Oh, I’m sure of that, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Wonderful. Your late booking has me intrigued. In the meantime, my staff will take good care of your needs. 47: Thank you, Miss Vetrova. Vetrova: Come find me when you’re ready, Mr. Rieper. I think we have lots to talk about. If you haven’t been to your hut yet, I highly recommend it. There’s a letter there for you which you may find interesting. 47: Thank you, Miss Vetrova.

Vetrova: Mr. Rieper, so good to see you. 47: You mentioned an offer. Vetrova: Yes. It’s a little embarrassing, but… we’ve had an incident. A theft. The thief is an employee here. A person working at Mr. Williams’ villa at the other end of the island. 47: What was stolen? Vetrova: A USB drive containing some sensitive information. Personal information which I would rather not fall into the hands of others. So my offer is this: obtain the USB drive from the thief without alerting anyone at the villa. The thief is likely still there. I can’t get you inside so you’ll have to use that particular skill set of yours to gain access. Do that, and I’ll convince Mr. Williams to give you a fifty percent discount on our service fee. That’s a million dollars, Mr. Rieper. 47: A generous offer. The information must be valuable. Vetrova: Mostly to me. It’s very personal. Please call me as soon as you’ve recovered it. 47: Very well. I’ll call you.

Ah, Mr. Rieper. So good to see you again. Follow me please.

Vetrova: You, leave us. … You have the item with you? Can I have it please? 47: Here you are. Vetrova: Ah, thank you so much, Mr. Rieper. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, Mr. Rieper. I’m afraid things aren’t quite as serene here as they may seem on the surface. 47: I’m slowly beginning to understand that. Vetrova: Tyson… Mr. Williams… he’s not well. Hasn’t been for some time. We used to be together, but… his illness… I couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. He monitors my every move. I think he asked that girl to steal my information because he wants to… I don’t know. Punish me? Kill me? Who knows anymore. 47: Sounds hard. Vetrova: You have no idea. I sometimes wish he’d just disappear, you know. Vanish from the face of the planet. Then I’d be free. Anyway, I shouldn’t bore you with my personal problems. You’ve been very helpful, and I will honour my promise and make sure you get the discount. Perhaps we’ll see each other at dinner one of these nights. One on one, maybe. 47: One on one sounds ideal. Vetrova: Excellent. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few calls I need to make. Good day to you, Mr. Rieper. … Oh, and I almost forgot. If you’d like a massage, the room’s available. Just lie down and someone will be with you shortly. Goodbye, Mr. Rieper.

Calling Steven Bradley

Steven, I recovered the USB drive, and I think I found a solution to our mutual problem. … Yes, I just need to get that idiot Portman out of his hut so I can access his computer. Once that’s done, we’re ready.

It’s me. We have everything we need. Tyson’s personal data is with me now and Portman’s computer is breached. … Now we talk. Come to the spa.

Calling Pietro

Pietro, it’s Ljudmila. I’ve done everything you’ve instructed. Are the papers ready? … My accent? Oh, shit. I’ve been playing pretend for so long, I forget it’s even on. Look, nevermind, are the papers in order? We’re pulling the trigger tonight. … That remains to be seen. There’s been a… a development. A new client on the island. He’s in the removal business, as it were. I may be able to activate him. … Tyson, yes. I don’t owe that swine anything. If you knew just half of what he’s put me through… God. Let’s not get into that now. I can tell you when we meet. … Wonderful. I’ll meet you in Paris. And Pietro? Darling. I can’t wait. … Thank you. I better get back to it.

Calling ???

It’s me. I’m calling to make sure the accounts are prepared. … No, he doesn’t suspect anything. It’s taken me months to prepare this and I’ve been very careful. He’s probably looking through my computer right now. I’ve thrown him a lot of small chunks of meat, just like you taught me. … Who? Steven? He’s still useful but… well, I think more so as a patsy than an accomplice. If all goes well, I’ll leave him here to take the fall after the system’s been wiped. As long as the accounts are in place, they’ll never be able to trace me, no matter how fancy their systems are. … Good. I’ll call you from Paris. Bye.

Alone

Soon. No more prying eyes, no more pampering whining criminals, just… freedom to travel the world again. To be adored, to be worshipped.

Almost time. This Mr. Rieper, whoever he really is, is your ticket out of here, ‘Mila. None of them will know what hit them. This time tomorrow, champagne in Paris, and the day after, who knows.

Can’t wait to leave this hellhole behind. Just a few loose ends to tie up.

At Portman’s house

Okay, that must be his computer. Hmm… password. Better call Steven. … Steven, it’s me. I have Portman’s computer. What now? … Okay. Got it. And then what? … Okay, I’ll do that now. Talk to you in a few. … Steven, it worked. We’re in. … Now I just need that USB from the villa. I’m hoping our new arrival, Mr. Rieper, might be of assistance here. He certainly looks to have the skills.

Ah, you did it, ‘Mila. You’re almost finally free of this place. No more Tyson Williams, no more playing the hostess, no more fake smiles, fake names, fake everything. It’s time to take back your life and ruin everyone else’s in the process.

#targets #haven island #ljudmila vetrova

Yuki Yamazaki (Hokkaido)

With Akira Nakamura

Yamazaki: Director, nice to see you. Akira: Ah, Miss Yamazaki. Good to see you. Yamazaki: I’d like to see you in the winter garden shortly. Akira: Of course. Yamazaki: Very well.

Yamazaki: Mr. Director, there you are. I’d like to see you in the winter garden shortly. Akira: Of course. Yamazaki: Very well.

Wait, there he is, the director. Better catch him now.

Akira: Miss Yamazaki. I trust your people are satisfied. Yamazaki: Our people, director. Don’t forget who put you here. Akira: Of course. Yamazaki: We appreciate you clearing your operating schedule. It is paramount to our interests that Soders survives. Still, this cannot have been easy. Akira: A few unhappy clients. But fast tracking Mr. Soders was a minor problem. Finding a matching donor heart at such short notice… Yamazaki: I’m sure you have your ways. Ways I do not need to know about. Akira: If you don’t mind me asking, who is Erich Soders? His resume says retired big game hunter. Yamazaki: Amusing. In a way, I suppose he was in his day. Mr. Soders belonged to an organisation involved in the recent attacks against us and we needed a man on the inside. Akira: So it’s true. Someone is targeting Providence. Yamazaki: Not for much longer. Akira: Speaking of threats, we may have a breach in security. My team is investigating. If we find anything, you’ll be the first to know. Yamazaki: See that I am.

Yamazaki: That security breach you mentioned. I take it you found something. Akira: Ah, no. We’re still looking. This is something else, I’m afraid. I know you prefer not to know our methods, but our man was in such a hurry to acquire a heart for Mr. Soders, a right sided heart, that- Yamazaki: He didn’t cover his tracks? Akira: Uh, not sufficiently, no. The curator was able to find a donor in Brazil, street kid, one of the nameless. He paid the leaders of his gang to look the other way but someone rolled on us. Our man almost didn’t get the heart through customs and just yesterday we caught an Interpol agent snooping around. Yamazaki: Here? Are you telling me that Interpol tracked an illegal black market organ trade to this hospital? Akira: Regrettably, yes. Yamazaki: We will reach out. Pull the available strings. In the meantime, Director, I suggest you get your house in order. Your chair is wobbly.

Yamazaki: Ah, Director, I almost forgot. Is the building AI performing as expected? Akira: KAI is a wonder of technology, Miss Yamazaki. The advances made by Kronstadt Technologies are simply staggering. The surgery robot too shows great promise. GAMA is well underway to becoming the most technologically advanced medical facility in the world. Yamazaki: Well, that is the plan. In the past, there has been little cross disciplinary collaboration between the businesses we control, but the Partners are changing all that. Companies like Kronstadt and Ether are now working together, producing cutting edge results that will never go public or reach the market. Soon GAMA is able to perform medical miracles unavailable anywhere else, such as radically enhancing a person’s lifespan, and access will be limited to clients of our choosing. Akira: It is a bold vision. One I feel fortunate to be a part of. Yamazaki: As you should, Director. As you should.

With 47 (disguised as Akira Nakamura)

47: Miss Yamazaki. Yamazaki: Director. The incident we talked about, is it secure? 47: Perhaps we should discuss in private. Yamazaki: Agreed. Follow me.

Yamazaki: Hey, leave us please. No objections. … Explain. 47: We suspect that one of our patients are not who they claim to be. Anonymous tip. Yamazaki: I see. An assassin? I assume you want background checks. 47: Of course. But our IDs can be manufactured if you have enough time, skill and money. Yamazaki: I expect your security team to be on top of this. Reexamine all patients. I understand you need to protect your clientele, but losing Soders is not an option. Keep me posted. I’ll be watching very carefully how you handle this, Director. 47: Yes, miss. In the meantime, watch your back.

With 47 (as a server)

47: Pardon me. You should really try the sushi. It’s to die for. Yamazaki: Is this fugu? I knew you would come around eventually, good for you. 47: I hope you like it. My colleague is a straight arrow. Me? I say it’s good to live dangerously. Yamazaki: You took the words right out of my mouth. Mmm, yes, mmm. That’s exactly right. Smooth velvet softness. Absolutely delicious. My compliments to the chef.

With 47 (disguised as Jean Brooke)

47: Miss Yamazaki. I believe you booked time for a yoga lesson? Yamazaki: Yes. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show. I’m glad you’re here. 47: If you’ll just follow me.

Yamazaki: I’m ready to begin. 47: Miss Yamazaki. Very well. Let’s begin. Let us begin with upward facing dog. When you’re ready. Fluid movement, very good. Now transition into lord of the dance. Remember to breathe throughout. Warrior two pose. Core strength. Stay there for a while. Changing sides. Be strong. And finally, tree pose. This one is tricky. Find a good spot for it. Yamazaki: Now, this is a view to die for. Ah, that was just what I needed. Your instruction was perfect. Thank you, Mr. Brooke.

Can we move this along please? What’s the hold up?

Hey, let’s go! I don’t have all day for this.

Uh, is there a problem? Why are we stopping?

Now what? Are we doing this or not?

Okay, you know what? That’s it. You are useless. I’m more tense than I was when we started this. I’ll make sure the Director hears about this. We’re done!

Come back here this instance! I’ll have your job for this.

Are you just going to leave now? Is that it?

Why are you leaving? What exactly are you doing?

Hey, you got an appointment with me. Why are you leaving?

Done already? I was just getting warmed up.

With the servers

Yamazaki: Ah, this is all so standard… Um, excuse me! Could I ask you for some fugu roll? Server: A thousand apologies, miss, but hospital administration have put a ban on pufferfish. There was an, um… incident… only last week. A kitchen apprentice took it upon himself to… uh… well, I can’t even bear to say it out loud. Yamazaki: Well, I’m sure you can make an exception this once. Server: The rules are the rules. I’m sure you understand. Yamazaki: I’m a lawyer. I see them more as a set of guidelines. Server: I- I just… don’t want to get fired. If you’ll excuse me… Yamazaki: I asked for fugu, not… jellyfish.

Yamazaki: Fugu roll please! I have a craving and I won’t take no for an answer. Server: I wish I could, miss, but my hands are tied.

Yamazaki: I demand to be served fugu! Do it or you will make yourself a powerful enemy. Server: No, it is forbidden.

Yamazaki: I will take that serving of fugu now. Server: My apologies, Miss, but the rules are the rules.

Yamazaki: Look at this selection. It’s so pedestrian. Hey, respect for your superiors is a fine thing, but you can’t give into fear. You need to rebel. Put fugu back on the menu. Server: I must respectfully decline.

Calling Arthur Edwards

Sir, can we talk? … He’s stable. Pre surgery stem cell treatment. The actual transplant is not until tomorrow. Chief surgeon says chances are good. … Um, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir, we are jumping through a lot of hoops for a new operative. I know you have had Soders in your sight for a long time, should the need ever arise, but is it really wise to trust him? I know his type. The man would say anything to stay alive. … No, I don’t have a better idea. Apologies for being forward. … Understood.

Sir. … No, the patient remains stable, I only wanted to- … Yes. The investigation. … Nothing? How can there be nothing? Hajun was killed in a public parking garage in the middle of the afternoon. You’re saying there are no witnesses? Nothing on the CCTV cameras? … What was he even doing in Johannesburg? And don’t tell me I don’t need to know, sir, because… because I really need to know. Hajun was… important to me. … I feared as much. It has to be the same person. Whoever hoodwinked ICA, whoever abducted Thomas Cross and fried Schaeffer-Moore’s servers. They killed Hajun. … As a matter of fact, sir, I do feel better. I thank you for your trust.

Calling Mikhail Kadir

Mikhail. The data we got from Erich Soders, your assessment please. … Sleep is for the weak, Mikhail. Go. … I see. The board approved the contracts but nothing indicates bad faith. So the ICA really was unaware of any connection between the targets. This still doesn’t rule out a single bad egg. Someone in the board must have a hidden agenda. … Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. We’ve seen the damage they can do. ICA is not to be underestimated. We need them under our control. Mr. Soders will be a fine investment. Keep digging, Mikhail.

Mikhail. Yes, I need another favour. The footage from the car park in Johannesburg. … Yes, the Constant already told me they found no trace of Hajun’s killer. But I need to see for myself. … No, he doesn’t. I’m too involved to lead the investigation. And he’s absolutely right from a purely strategic perspective. As always. Which is why I’m talking to you. … No, you will do this for me, Mikhail. … Because… you know what it’s like to be in love.

Calling Alexander Fanin

I thought I made myself clear. You do not call this number, I call you. … “You’re next?” What does that even mean? Next what? … No, Mr. Fanin, I do not take you for an idiot. If I did, I wouldn’t have recommended you as Cobb’s successor. Those were indeed our operative, yes, well done. … Well, there’s nothing we can’t handle. You do believe that, don’t you? That there’s nothing we cannot handle. … We have over a hundred operatives, many of whom are bigger fish than you. Beef up security if you must keep your head down. This will all be over soon, and Fanin? Do not call me again.

Smoking related

God, what I wouldn’t do for a cigarette right now. Surely one of the patients have a pack in stock.

“No smoking”? If I actually HAD my cigarettes, I would be very displeased.

Unbelievable. Can’t even go outside to smoke? That is harassment. I will need to have a serious chat with management about this.

“Thank you for not smoking”? Thank you for saluting this zeitgeist. Bunch of yes men.

Okay, don’t think about cigarettes, don’t think about cigarettes. Damn it, I thought about cigarettes!

Huh? Could it be? Yes! Thank the spirits! Now to find a good place to light up these babies. This is going to be good.

Yamazaki: This is a moment I want to enjoy in solitude. Bodyguard: Understood, Miss Yamazaki. Enjoy.

At the spa

As expected. Too crowded and too little heat. Pampered weaklings with their delicate skin. No, I’ll pass. Maybe later.

Ugh, still occupied. No. No crowds, not today.

Oh no, I’m not sharing.

Ugh, too much skin. No thank you.

Ah, finally. A bit of privacy.

Oh, must be 200 degrees. Okay, this is too much, even for me.

At the yoga instructor’s

What is taking that instructor so long? The lesson was supposed to start already.

Why hasn’t the yoga instructor showed up? I should really have a word with the director about this.

If that instructor does show up…!

Oh, where is that yoga instructor?

At gunpoint

I can make you a rich man.

Hey… I’m not the bad guy here. I’m just a lawyer. Relax, baldie!

Come on, let me at least smoke one last cigarette, huh?

No, no… don’t do it. You should really reconsider.

Listen, do you know who I am? You don’t want to kill me.

No, no, not me. You don’t want to do that.

Please think about it for a second.

#targets #hokkaido #yuki yamazaki

Alexa Carlisle (Dartmoor)

To the family

Gregory: Somebody should document this historic moment. Mother apologising for a major cock up? A new first, I believe! Alexa: In my own time, Gregory. I’ll wait ‘till everyone is here.

Right, let’s get started. I want to keep this short. I know you have a lot of questions, some I will answer now, the rest will have to wait. First, Zachary’s sudden death is a great tragedy, but also a great inconvenience as it happened just now. I am dealing with the situation in a discreet and efficient way and I expect your cooperation in all related matters. Secondly, the arranged funeral event tomorrow will take place as planned. No one can know that I am still alive. I expect you all to act your part. Last, as you all know, I have a lot on my plate and need to focus on sorting everything out so please do not disturb me with your petty concerns. You are all adults and as part of the elite, you will eventually have to deal with difficult situations like this. It comes late for most of you, but this is a chance to show what you’re made of. That will be all.

The photograph

Alexa: I expect you to be quick about the shoot. I have a lot to do today. Photographer: Everything is set up and ready to go. I guarantee, you’ll be happy with the result.

I expect you to be efficient. I have a lot to see to today.

Let’s wait for everyone to show up…

Is showing up too much to ask? I’m not waiting much longer.

Listen everyone. I understand that you have a lot of questions. Please be patient for a little longer, I will address you in the sitting room afterwards. Right, get into position. Let’s get this over with.

Gregory: Chin up, Edward. No one wants to look at that long face. Rebecca: You’re such an idiot, Gregory. Edward: I’m fine, Rebecca. Gregory: Fine? You look like a nervous wreck. Alexa: Stop bickering. For Christ’s sake… Gregory: Well, Mother, you certainly know how to lighten the mood. Could we have one more? We’re having such a jolly good time, aren’t we?

That will be enough. No need to spend the entire day here. Please, everybody, go to the sitting room. I need to speak to you all.

I want to stress that I expect absolute discretion about everything you’ve witnessed today.

Just take the picture, we don’t have all day.

To Zachary Carlisle

Oh, Zachary. At least you never got to learn that the horrible thing we did was for nothing. To protect the Carlisle legacy, what bollocks. It’s all gone, I fear. That bloody Arthur Edwards, how did I not see it? Hah! I doubt our big brother could have botched it any worse than I have even if he tried!

My dear brother, finally in peace. How I regret the pact we made. How I wish I had acted on my own. The guilt over the life we took is what presses me forward. Always makes me want to make it worth the horrible sacrifice. But for you, it weighed you down, pulled you under. Never to resurface.

How did it come to this, Zachary? Did you really do it? But why now? What we did broke you nearly fifty years ago. No, I refuse to believe it.

What happened to you? I cannot believe you did this yourself.

I should have told you I was sorry. And now it’s too late.

Why now, Zachary? How could you leave me now?

To Rebecca Carlisle

Rebecca: Mother, I want to know what is going on. Alexa: Not now, Rebecca. I thought I made that clear. Rebecca: Yes, now! Something’s really wrong. I started digging and I can see that a lot of our mandates are void. Financial decisions revoked and a freeze on the- Alexa: Rebecca! Rebecca: -and then you give me that token for the vault in London. But only one of two. You need to explain. Alexa: The token for the bank vault is just a contingency measure, I doubt you’ll need it. Rebecca: Christ, Mother, that’s exactly what I mean. Could you be more cryptic? Alexa: I am working very hard to figure everything out. I need you to back off and trust that I am in control. I have contingency plans and will make sure that you get information, useful factual information, when I have it. But for now, I need time to focus. Rebecca: Business as usual then. You are cold, Mother. And alone. By choice.

With Gregory Carlisle

Gregory: Ah, my perfect Mother! Hah. Who would have thought? You fucked up, didn’t you? Staging your own death. A major grandiose cock up, I’d say. Alexa: Be quiet, Gregory. Gregory: Shows you’re only human, after all. I never would have guessed.

To Mr. Fernsby

Fernsby: I received the vault token for the Milton-Fitzpatrick London bank. Did I understand correctly that I should give it to Rebecca in case of your death? Carlisle: Exactly. She holds the other one. I want her to have the file on Arthur Edwards if I die. Fernsby: You’re not fearful she’ll be in trouble if she knows? Carlisle: She will start digging when she realises things don’t add up. Inevitably getting her in trouble. I’d rather she knew who she’s up against, she’s clever and resourceful. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be able to hit him where it hurts. But I don’t want her to get involved prematurely. Hopefully, she’ll never have to get involved at all.

Carlisle: What is it, Fernsby? Fernsby: Mr. Edward is not coping too well with the situation, I’m afraid. Carlisle: He is a useless wimp. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Fernsby: If I may say so, these are challenging circumstances for everyone. Seems to be his role in the staged funeral event tomorrow that weighs on him. Carlisle: Christ! If he’d just grow a pair… Fernsby: I believe he is calling his ex-wife again. It could end with legal consequences. The harassment charges from last time led to that restraining order. Carlisle: Should I talk to him? Fernsby: Maybe it’s better if I have a word with him, if I may, madam. Carlisle: Yes, you may be right. Thank you, Fernsby.

Carlisle: All well downstairs? How’s Gregory handling the situation? Causing trouble or too lazy to give a damn? Fernsby: No, madam. He… he seems to be amused by the whole debacle. Carlisle: He may be lazy but he’s not dumb. Having a laugh might well be the best way to handle it all. Fernsby: Would you like to see him? Carlisle: No. I need to address them all. I just have a few more things to get in order first. So for now, let him laugh. Soon there’ll be nothing for him to laugh about. He may have to get off his arse and do some honest work.

Carlisle: Anything to report? Fernsby: Everything is as expected.

Carlisle: Any updates, Fernsby? Fernsby: Nothing to report.

Carlisle: Fernsby, everything in order? Fernsby: Nothing new, madam.

To Phineas Whitmer

Carlisle: Mr. Whitmer, thank you for coming on such short notice. A great tragedy has fallen upon us and I need a quick resolution handled with absolute discretion. Whitmer: I have yet to see a mystery I haven’t solved, and I don’t give a toss about my fame if that’s what you’re worried about. My lips are sealed. Carlisle: Very well. I suppose you will want to start at the crime scene. Whitmer: You assume too much, Madam Carlisle. The crime scene, if such exists, is never where I begin. Carlisle: Do as you wish. However, I expect a result in a timely fashion. Fernsby will take over from here.

To Aron Ford Jr.

Carlisle: Well? Ford: Well? Carlisle: Well… what did you find? Ford: Uh… Carlisle: Yates better well have a damned good reason for not being here in person, Christ! You really don’t have a clue, do you? I’m talking about that weasel Arthur Edwards. Can we get back what he stole from me? Ford: So far it… looks like we can’t. All the transfers of funds and privileges I’ve been through have been bullet proof. He intercepted the arrangements our office worked years to put in place. Carlisle: That’s why Don Yates should be here. He made the arrangements, he should bloody well be the one to clean up this whole mess. Ford: I… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry? Carlisle: Don’t kill the messenger, Alexa… Please, continue your efforts, Mr. Ford.

Carlisle: Mr. Ford. Ford: Mrs. Carlisle, I… well… I… Carlisle: For heaven’s sake, just say it. Ford: I looked into the Tokyo holdings, and my preliminary assessment is that they… they are gone. Carlisle: I don’t need assessments, I need absolute confirmation. That is why you are here. Ford: I did request the documentation but it will take a while considering the time difference. Carlisle: You don’t request, you demand! How Yates could send me someone like you is beyond me.

Carlisle: Did you get confirmation from Tokyo? Ford: I’m working on it, Madam Carlisle.

Carlisle: Any updates? Ford: Sorry, no. Nothing yet.

Carlisle: Were you able to get the papers from the Sydney exchange? Ford: No new updates. Sorry.

With Parsons

Carlisle: Mr. Parsons. Parsons: Madam Carlisle. Before we start, I need to stress that I’m risking my name and reputation. If the truth gets out- Carlisle: You’ll be generously compensated. And if you really care about name and reputation, I suggest you leave it at that. Now, let’s run through the event.

Carlisle: What’s this? Parsons: I’ve created a memorial with a portrait of you as the central piece, as there, for obvious reasons, could be no viewing at the chapel of rest. Carlisle: Well I hate it. Get rid of it before it tomorrow. And the flowers? Parsons: Your son Gregory asked me to decide on the floral arrangements. I kept it all in white to signify eternity. Carlisle: It’s my funeral, not a wedding.

Parsons: This is where Edward will read the eulogy. Carlisle: Edward? Parsons: Yes, I understand your son is a university professor. Eloquent and used to addressing a crowd. Carlisle: Edward is a mumbling mess. He crumbles under the least amount of stress. Parsons: But Gregory approved of the idea. Carlisle: He was just relieved he wouldn’t have to do it himself. Rebecca would have been the better choice but too late to change it now.

Carlisle: And the gravestone? Your choice as well? Parsons: Gregory told me to take the lead, yes. Carlisle: Well, good choice, I like it. Parsons: I tried to balance the monumental with the natural raw qualities of granite in the hope that- Carlisle: Please be quiet. Parsons: Right. Carlisle: So to sum up, I expect you to remove my portrait from the memorial. That was an absolutely horrendous idea, very unfit for these historical surroundings. This is my ancestral burial ground, simple and clean is how we’ve always gone about it, and will be how we do it to this time as well. And regarding the eulogy, you could hardly be blamed for the mistake of asking Edward to perform the task. I will have words with Gregory about that. But as I said, it is too late to change that now. I do however suggest you make a contingency plan if he is unable to go through with it. He always was fragile. And the flowers. Maybe something natural, fitting the season and local fauna. That’s all, Mr. Parsons. I have other things to attend to.

With 47 (disguised as Ford):

Carlisle: What’s the verdict, Mr. Ford? Undoubtedly some of my assets must be safe. 47: No, everything’s gone. Carlisle: Not Thornbridge Manor, surely. 47: That too. Carlisle: But that’s not possible! I’ll kill him, I swear, if it’s the last thing I do… Thank you, Mr. Ford, that will be all.

With 47 (disguised as Whitmer)

So, Mr. Whitmer, you’ve reached a conclusion. Take a seat. Please go ahead.

47: The butler, Mr. Fernsby, killed Zachary. Carlisle: Fernsby? Hah, you’ve got that wrong. He would never do such a thing, he is the most loyal man I’ve ever met. 47: I found pills in his office that matches the poison that killed your brother. Furthermore, I found Zachary’s notebook half burned in Mr. Fernsby’s fireplace. It showed that Zachary intended to publish a written confession to a murder the two of you committed nearly fifty years ago. The murder of your older brother Montgomery. Carlisle: That’s outrageous. We did no such thing. 47: No need to feign innocence. I know a killer when I see one. And my discretion is assured. The papers also described how Mr. Fernsby helped you stage the murder of Montgomery as an accident. I believe he killed Zachary not to be exposed as an accomplice to murder. Carlisle: Sweet Fernsby… Hm. You are wrong, Mr. Whitmer. He did not do it to protect himself. He did it to protect the Carlisle legacy. Mr. Fernsby, like myself, understands that sacrifices must be made to secure stability and prosperity. Mr. Whitmer, I’d appreciate it if your findings never leave this room. I understand Fernsby’s actions and there is no need for them to have more consequences than they already have. Fernsby was very fond of Zachary and I’m sure his decision will haunt him ‘till the day he dies. About your reward, have you considered an amount?

47: Your niece, Emma Carlisle, murdered your brother Zachary. Carlisle: My niece?! Emma is not my niece, she’s my daughter-in-law. 47: And your niece. Emma is the illegitimate child of your late older child Montgomery who you and Zachary killed 46 years ago. Carlisle: That’s preposterous! 47: You asked me to find out what happened to Zachary. Would you rather not know? Carlisle: No… no, go on. 47: I found a letter from Emma’s mother Jane who was the fiancé of your older brother at the time of his death. She witnessed how you and Zachary pushed him off the balcony. She believed you did it to steal the Carlisle empire from her and her unborn child. She raised Emma to reclaim what she lost, marry your heir Gregory, get revenge and secure the Carlisle empire for her bloodline generations to come. Carlisle: Emma is the daughter of Montgomery and that local girl Jane? 47: She is. Carlisle: Well, the girl got it wrong. I didn’t steal anything. I did what was necessary to protect the future of the Carlisles. Montgomery wasn’t cut out to take out from Father. All heart and no balls. 47: Emma used the funeral gathering to speed up her instalment as the lady of the house, seizing the opportunity to stage Zachary’s suicide. She did her homework, used a poison made from one of Zachary’s rare plants, found old floor plans from Thornbridge Manor to gain access to his room through a secret passage. Carlisle: That scheming bitch. 47: More than you think. I found proof that she will try to poison you next. Carlisle: Well, I’ll have to take care of that. Thank you, Mr. Whitmer. You have not disappointed. I promised you I would reward you generously if you solved the case. So what do you suggest?

47: Your brother committed suicide. Carlisle: I need to see some evidence to believe that, Mr. Whitmer. 47: Zachary was found dead in a room locked from the inside. He died from a rare poisonous plant he cultivated himself. He believed you were dead and a suicide note explained that he did not have the courage to go on without you. Carlisle: That’s what I don’t buy. I cared for him deeply, but the truth is he hated my guts. My death would not make him commit suicide, I can promise you that. 47: Perhaps the death of your older brother Montgomery then? I have found evidence showing that you and Zachary killed him nearly fifty years ago. I believe that was when Zachary turned recluse. Your brother recently uncovered proof that your past deeds were for nothing. A letter from Montgomery stating that he wanted you, Madam Carlisle, to take over from your father instead of himself as you were better suited to the job. Everything would have turned out the way you wanted without anyone dying. What broke Zachary once now destroyed him. Carlisle: And you saw this letter? 47: I did. Carlisle: Oh Zachary… How royally I fucked up. Mr. Whitmer, I’m sorry, I-I-… I just need to gather my thoughts. Right. The payment for your services. Have you decided on an amount?

47: I want the file you have on Arthur Edwards. Carlisle: Arthur Edwards… the Constant? But that must mean you’re-… I expected you to show up. But you’re not here to kill me. If you were, you would have already. The enemy of my enemy, I suppose. You can have it. You earned it. The file you want is in the safe. Good hunting. I need some privacy. Thank you.

47: I want the file you have on Arthur Edwards. Carlisle: Edwards, the Constant? But how do you-… Oh, I see… I expected you might show up. But to kill me, not help me. But I’ve been wrong on so many things lately, so why not this one? I will give you the file on Edwards, you’ve earned it. I don’t suppose I could convince you to deal with my daughter-in-law now you’re here. I would like to see her dead. No? What a shame. I’ll have to see to it some other way then. The file you want is in the safe. God I hope you get Edwards and make him hurt. I need some privacy. Thank you.

47: Arthur Edwards. You have a file on him. Carlisle: Arthur Edwards? How do you-… I see. Well played. For many many years, I feared what I’d see when I finally met death. And now you sit before me and… I feel only peace. You see, I believe life is a fair fight and I lost spectacularly in every way imaginable. It is time for me to leave the pit. Oh, before I get to that… your reward. The file you want is in the safe. A last wish from a dying woman? Get Edwards and make him suffer. So long. I need some privacy. Thank you.

47: I’ll send you an invoice. Carlisle: Thank you, Mr. Whitmer. I trust you’ll see yourself out.

47: I’ll send you an invoice. Carlisle: To be honest, I doubt you’ll see any money. You see, Mr. Whitmer, the irony is even deeper than you know. It’s all gone. Everything, I expect. I killed my older brother to protect the family legacy, drove my younger brother mad in the process, and now I’ve managed to lose everything to a fucking secretary. Would you believe it? The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I trust you’ll see yourself out. I need to excuse myself.

Please remain seated, Mr. Whitmer.

Mr. Whitmer, this is taking it beyond the limits of my patience. I have other things to see to. Please come and see me when you are ready.

Where are you going? Please sit down.

Right, where were we?

With 47 (disguised as Parsons)

Carlisle: Mr. Parsons, I don’t like to be kept waiting. I trust we can be efficient now I’m here. 47: I can be very efficient, madam Carlisle. Carlisle: What’s that picture of me doing here? What an awful idea! I want it removed before the ceremony tomorrow. I must say I don’t care much for the choice of flowers either. I need a moment to consider what I want.

Carlisle: What’s that podium? I find that having family members doing the eulogy is more often than not a toad cringing affair. I never understood the need to publicly display grief. A person died. Most natural thing in the world. No need to make an emotional spectacle of it. I hope you haven’t planned for one of those.

Carlisle: And the gravestone. Granite, solid, no fuss. I like it. Well done, Mr. Parsons, I approve. 47: Yes, it will mark your grave beautifully. Carlisle: So to sum up. I expect you to remove my portrait from the memorial. That was an absolutely horrendous idea, very unfit for these historical surroundings. This is my ancestral burial ground, simple and clean is how we’ve always gone about it, and how it will be this time as well. And the flowers. They look more fit for a wedding than my funeral. Maybe something natural, fitting the season and local fauna. Surely you’re capable of figuring something out that doesn’t look so misplaced. That’s all, Mr. Parsons. I have other things to attend to.

Calling Don Yates

Don Yates, Alexa Carlisle here. You need to explain yourself. I demand that you return my call ASAP. Sending a junior attorney is gross negligence of your responsibilities and will have consequences for your company and you personally as well. I will make sure of that, mark my words.

Alexa Carlisle again. Don, this is how the land lies. Your law firm is deeply involved in this farce and I demand that you personally take responsibility for your part. Get your arse overseas and help me straighten things out! That junior associate of yours in no way cuts it and you know it. The disrespect you show me will have grave consequences, I promise. So call me!

Damnit! Pick up the bloody phone!

Calling Arthur Edwards

Damn you, Edwards, answer your bloody phone, you coward! How dare you interfere with my life like this? You’re a nobody, a weasel, overreaching your competences. You are in way over your head. And I will make you pay. You can count on that.

Edwards, if you don’t get back to me immediately, I promise you I will have your head, I will skin it, boil it, clean it and soak it in enzyme bleach for three days, mount it and place it on the wall in the gardener’s shithouse! So you will get back to me.

Coward! Answer your phone!

I’d be scared too if I were you.

To the portraits

You faced great obstacles too, I know. We will persevere. It is my duty to make that happen.

If you only knew what we face… I wonder what you would do. Attack? Regroup? Close the gates and wait it out?

For centuries, the Carlisles have fought to prosper, all of us… alone. If we could only unite across time, we could crush them all.

In the panic room

You negligent shit! Spineless, despicable, nitwitted little man! How I would just… agh! Shit! Piss. Hypocrite.

How dare you? You blithering, disrespectful arse! Filthy slimy weasel. Slighting little shit! Ooze infested snake of a man! You make me vomit. If I could just…

Deceitful, disobedient bastard! Ill-bred maggot of spineless shit! You little backstabbing prick! How I’d like to… ugh… Goddamnit! Shit!

You flip state of sick. Ignorant imbecile invertebrate! Ignoring me? You skiving honourless shit! Traitor! Quack! Cheat! If I could get my hands on you, I’d squeeze the pitiful life out of you. I’d… I’d… Aah! You tiny little excuse of a man. Coward!

Right. Back to business.

Ah, that’s better. Now, back to work.

On with it, Alexa.

#targets #alexa carlisle #dartmoor

Carl Ingram (Dubai)

With Marcus Stuyvesant in the meeting:

Stuyvesant: Where is he? What’s the meaning of letting us wait around like this? Ingram: If he’s caught up in some meaningless handshaking situation right now, I swear to God…

Stuyvesant: I’m not in the mood for this. If he doesn’t show up soon, I’m gone. Ingram: This is taking too long. I’m an important man.

Stuyvesant: This is ridiculous. I’m leaving. Ingram: Yes. You’re right. No point waiting around any longer.

With 47 (in disguise as Zane Kazem):

Ingram: Mr. Kazem, a pleasure to meet you. Omar tells me great things about you. I’ll get straight to the point. I have a… well, let’s call it a dispute, which the Royal Highness tells me you’re very capable of taking care of. Now I’ve worked with your organisation before, in Morocco I believe, so I’m a little hesitant. 47: Don’t be. We do what’s needed. Ingram: Well only time will tell. I have two assignments for you. Take care of the first one and then we can discuss the bigger fish. Now, onto the first. An acute problem has been brought to my attention. 47: Keep talking. Ingram: I’ll be candid with you. No one is supposed to know that I’m here. However, there’s a journalist down at the inauguration and he’s asking rather intrusive questions about who’s staying up here, and that is a very dangerous problem for me. Now I want you to silence this little pain. You think you can do that? 47: It’s what I do best. Ingram: I like your bluntness. This is his file. Hans Lucht, Pulitzer winning freelance journalist. He’s good and won’t give up until he gets the answers he needs. And that can’t happen. 47: Consider it done. Ingram: Good man. And remember I want a picture. I want proof so I can sleep tonight. 47: Of course. Ingram: Once this little assignment is completed, come back and talk to Miss To. Then we can discuss the real cancer that needs to be removed. I’m sure you can see yourself out.

Pick up the photo for crying out loud! Otherwise you won’t have a clue what he looks like.

You should take the picture, it might help.

Why don’t you pick up the photo? You won’t know who he is if you don’t look.

Well, pick up the damn picture! Are you stupid? You know what, the deal is off! Get out of here!

Ingram: My man here will stay for the meeting. I assume that will not be a problem. Either way, you have no choice in the matter. It’s interesting we haven’t come across each other before, Mr. Kazem. Well, maybe not. I usually have my people talk to people like you. 47: I can imagine. Ingram: I don’t know how much Omar, I mean, the Royal Highness has told you, but my guess is very little so let me get to the point. My organisation has been hit by an unpleasant cancer that can only be removed by cutting it out of the gut, if you get my drift. 47: Yes, I do. Ingram: Good. This little turd is spreading his vile toxic cells and I want him stopped, brutally. Chemo won’t remove him, only the knife. I have his file here: Arthur Edwards, a sly little devil if there ever was one. Me and my associates, well, we underestimated the little worm. We want revenge. 47: I think you and I share a common interest. Ingram: I doubt that. But I want you to make him suffer. This is not a horse that needs to be put out of its misery. This is a rabid dog that needs to be put down. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Kazem? 47: Yes. Consider it done. Ingram: Good. We’re now in business. 47: We are. Ingram: I’ll have Miss To send you anything you need. We’re done here. Oh, and… one last question, I’m just curious. You’re nicknamed “the Vulture.” Why? 47: I find it’s best to wait for the perfect kill. Ingram: I think you’ll be perfect for the job. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kazem. I look forward to receiving an update. Safe hunting. Guard! Guard: Yes, Mr. Ingram? Ingram: Please show Mr. Kazem out.

Do you have trouble hearing? I’m serious.

Are you deaf? You answer when I talk to you.

What’s wrong with you? You are pushing your luck.

That’s it, you are finished! Done! I’ll make sure you never work again, understood? Wait until Omar hears about this…

With the chef:

Ingram: Would you like to join me? Chef: Of course, it would be an honour. Ingram: I want to say, this is surprisingly tasty. Though I do miss a good burger. There’s a place near my ranch that makes the best burgers, great steak too. I should know, they use my cattle for the beef. Best meat in the world. I used to own a few slaughterhouses back in the day but gave it up. I don’t like the way they butcher the animals these days. It’s conveyor belt genocide. So impersonal. So I sold them. Chef: That’s a terrible shame. Ingram: That was a great meal. Compliments to you. Alright, I should get back to work. Chef: It was a pleasure, sir.

Ingram: I hate to eat alone. Would you like to join me? Chef: I’m not hungry, but I will happily keep you company, sir. Ingram: I used to own restaurants. A dozen or so. Michelin Stars. If they didn’t have at least two, I’d sell them. I only owned the best. But then those pansy TV chefs started dominating and lo and behold everyone was all of a sudden… oh, what’s the word? Foodies. What a ridiculous name. Suddenly everyone was a big shot chef. An insult to the profession if you ask me. I lost interest after that. Chef: Interesting. Ingram: Well, that was delicious. Thank you. I better get back to work. Chef: I’m glad you liked it, sir.

First to the meeting:

I’m the first one here. As usual. Good feeling about today. We’ll get this thing back on track in no time. We’re gonna show that little shit Edwards the true meaning of power.

This is just a minor setback. Just a minor setback. We can fix this.

When I get my hands on that little shit Edwards… good thing Father isn’t around to see this.

And where’s Marcus anyway? What’s he up to?

On his recorder:

Okay, where was I? So. It’s our duty to keep the world in check, to make sure the engine runs smoothly and not dissolve into anarchy. Now that might sound harsh but it is our fundamental belief that the masses must be guided as they are incapable of guiding themselves. However! These ideals could be misinterpreted as some form of dictatorship and this is where I beg to differ. We are anything but! Which is also why it is imperative that we, the Partners, maintain our clandestine approach. The masses like to be led but the trick is to fool them into thinking that they’re not. Okay, that’s enough for now…

“Recruiting…” Only a fool would assume that power can be kept by only a few good men, well, and women. We might be the chess masters but we need our chess pieces to keep the balance and, like all the great chess masters of our time, patience is the key. This is the fundamental rule when recruiting. Now, to explain, I would like to share a story, a fable if you will. Little Jeffrey. A lonely boy who came from a less than modest home showed from an early age signs of great intelligence and inventiveness, something that no one noticed but his teacher. Thanks to her keen eye, she began to push little Jeffrey harder, believing he could make something of himself.

And Jeffrey excelled, lo and behold, he started to gain, what do they call them, scholarships. Soon to be admitted into schools that his parents could not afford and everybody believed it was due to his brilliance, you know, that fate had dealt him such a generous hand. Now, this was partially true, except fate is not abstract, it’s tangible, it’s handed to you as a gift from Mount Olympus if you will.

Now, after graduating from an Ivy League college with full honours, Jeffrey wanted to make a difference. He was brilliant, but he was an idealist, and he started working for what he believed was a greater cause. Fate, however, felt he would be more useful in the private sector and set itself out to lure him to his true calling. Working for the hand that fed him. Grooming him in fate’s own image for when he was needed.

History of the Partners… As my successor, it’s important you understand that we, the Partners, are a collective of distinguished families who have taken it upon ourselves to guide the world to being a better place. A place where… shit. A place where the intelligent and the strong can prosper. But we also understand that where there are masters, there must be servants, and this cannot be done without an effective class system. The servants must be controlled.

To my successor. Power is not to be taken for granted. Where many have failed during the course of history, we have been able to maintain our power since Providence was established after World War Two. Our secret? We distrusted our successors, and so in turn stayed alert to our failures. Vanity is power’s greatest foe, which has been proven time and time again throughout history.

However, even we are not bulletproof, as have been proven with recent events. And I don’t believe our current dilemma was caused by vanity or arrogance or even laziness but something worse: Trust. We were lured by the serpent of the Garden of Eden and ate from the apple like the fools we were. So trust no one. I cannot emphasise that enough.

Looking out:

Wonder if there are any other bloodsucking journalists down there.

All those ants down there… most of them wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for us. Little do they know that there’s a war going on.

Funny. This building wouldn’t have ever been built without our influence.

At the balcony:

The view is quite something. Sometimes I forget that it’s not me standing on the shoulders of giants. I am the giant. Now, where were we

Sitting on his chair:

Like King Lear, top of the world. Then being pulled to pieces like a spider one leg at a time. Ironic. But unlike him, I fight back.

Now what do I need to cover… I got the recruit thing, or did I? I always thought I was a man of letters. Not as easy as it sounds.

What else do I need to cover? There’s so much. Once you start… what they call writer’s block.

At the bar:

Alright, time for a drink. … Ah, that hits the spot. Make me another. … Good man.

That was good. I think I’ll have a drink. … Perfect. Might as well make me another. … Yeah, just keep them coming.

Okay, need a drink. … Just what the doctor ordered. One more. … Thanks.

About noise:

Where the hell is that racket coming from? I said I needed peace! I need to work, goddamnit!

Are you all stupid? I specifically asked for you all to be quiet when you work! This is a goddamn joke.

Are you kidding me? I specifically asked for no noise. I’m working on my documents here. Jesus!

Come on! How hard can it be not to turn on the goddamn radio? This is a study! It demands peace and quiet, you idiots! I’m going up to the penthouse suite!

That’s it, who turned on the radio? I’ll make sure you are all fired! I want peace and quiet! Idiots! Okay, I’ll be up in the penthouse suite.

You pathetic monkeys. Who turned on the vacuum cleaner? What’s so hard to understand about wanting silence?! Huh?! I’m going down to the study and believe me, His Royal Highness is going to hear about this!

This is ridiculous. I want quiet! I want peace! But you idiots don’t understand that. Well, I’ll make sure His Royal Highness fires all of you. I’m going to the study. This is ridiculous.

Oh, come on, is this a joke? It’s like being in a goddamn zoo! If anyone needs me, I’ll be playing golf! You know what I don’t get, it’s the useless staff that Omar hires. They receive simple instructions to let me be in peace and they can’t fulfil it. Now I say fire them all! I’ll need to talk to Omar about this later.

Are you kidding? How hard is it to be quiet around here? I need to go and play some golf. Need to clear my goddamn mind. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like asking for peace and quiet is a huge demand. I bet you people with coronavirus get more tranquility than this.

I’ve had enough of this racket! I’m going to go shoot some golf! Yeah, Omar’s going to hear about this. It’s a goddamn joke. If he can’t keep his own staff in place… I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t trust him so much. This place is a goddamn madhouse.

Playing golf:

Golf… you little shits! When I get hold of you, Edwards, I should use a golf club.

Goddamn you, Edwards, pathetic little bastard. I’ll rip out your sorry excuse for a heart and force feed it to you.

How could that little asshole just take away what’s our birthright? And that noise!

Why can’t I just work in peace? It’s not too much to ask for, is it?

#targets #dubai #carl ingram

Hello everyone! My fixation is back so I’m ready to transcribe again :)

#hitman #hitman fandom #for reach

Arthur Edwards (Isle of Sgàil)

With Zoe Washington

Edwards: Good evening, Zoe. Zoe: Wow. How does the one guy not wearing a mask still come across as anonymous? Edwards: It’s a gift. So… I hear you’ve taken steps to make the invitations somewhat more… exciting? Zoe: If there’s something I’ve learned from leading a team of gung-ho mercenaries, it’s to have a proper screening process. I’m sure you agree. Edwards: Oh, but I do. In fact, for future gatherings, I would like to add some questions of my own. Zoe: Ah, you’re recruiting. Edwards: The unfortunate events of these past few months have left us with some job openings. Where better to find new operatives than here among the cream of the crop? Zoe: Where indeed? Edwards: Good. I’ll be in touch.

With Sophia Washington

Sophia: Constant. Edwards: Good evening, Sophia. Sophia: Well! Isn’t this ironic? The one guy here who’s actually hiding does not wear a mask. Edwards: Invisibility is a gift. It’s amazing, the things you pick up when no one gives you a second thought. Sophia: Ah, let’s have it. Edwards: I gave you a task. It should have been an easy sell, and yet I hear the Council is undecided. Should I be worried? Sophia: I have it under control. Even if that idiot Block decides to veto me, I have an ace up my sleeve. Thy will be done. Edwards: I look forward to your machinations then.

Sophia: Alright, I’m here. Are you gonna tell me what’s so damn important? Edwards: Ah, Sophia. I believe you know Mr. Sinclair. Sophia: We’ve met. What of it? Edwards: I don’t blame you for trying, Sophia. Just for failing. Upstairs. Now.

Sophia: It’s your word against mine, you know. Edwards: That’s your play? I recommended you and Zoe to the Partners against my mentor’s wishes because I saw something in you. And this is how you repay me? You think because the Partners noticed you that you have their trust? Their confidence? I have served them for decades and you don’t even know their names. Sophia: And yet you’re the one with the poison chip in your neck and I’m the one holding the trigger. Edwards: You? They gave it to you? Sophia: Ouch… that’s gotta sting. I mean, the Constant is like the voice of God, right? Only he speaks for the Partners. Surely they wouldn’t dream of undermining his authority. Only… the Partners are old school, aren’t they? They recognise class, pedigree, birds of a feather and all that. And you… You reek of middle class. You carry the stink of public transportation. And while you have spent decades climbing the corporate ladder, me and Zoe, we’ve got ourselves a private elevator and it goes straight to the top. Edwards: Don’t fool yourself, Sophia. They may use you to punish me, but you’re a tool and nothing more. And this pathetic ruse only shows me how much you have yet to learn. Sophia: I’ve said my piece. We’re done here… boss.

With 47 (in Sinclair disguise)

47: Nice evening. Edwards: I suppose. 47: No robe, no mask. Which rank are you? Edwards: Oh, I’m more of an outside observer, Mr…? 47: Name’s Sinclair. I’m Chief Technical Designer at Kronstadt Industries. Edwards: The name rings a bell. 47: Here. I think it might interest you. Edwards: What’s this? 47: I think you know. The chip in your neck is my design, which means I can override it for a price. Edwards: Most interesting… meet me at the tower. And be discreet. We can’t be seen together. 47: Always am.

Edwards: May I see those blueprints again please? … Interesting. Alright, Mr. Sinclair, I’m listening. 47: Don’t. In fact, forget all I said. Edwards: Excuse me? 47: This wasn’t my idea. Sophia Washington, she’s the one who told me to approach you. It’s all a trap. Edwards: Go on… 47: I never asked why. I just went along because she’s the boss. Edwards: And you’re telling me this now, why? 47: Let’s just say I don’t like to get my hands dirty. Edwards: I see. Thank you for your candor, Mr. Sinclair. You have been most helpful. Hang on for a moment. … Sophia, I need to see you at the tower. … I’m sure you are, and no you can’t. … I am sorry you got dragged into this. Sophia is spectacularly ambitious. However, like most people of her ilk, she lacks humility and a sense of station. 47: And who are you exactly? Edwards: A humble advisor. Nothing more. 47: Power without responsibility. Nothing humble about that. Edwards: You have my interest, Mr. Sinclair. I think we'll speak again. For now, you will excuse me. Sophia and I need to… clear the air.

With 47 at the mission end:

47: The Washingtons are dead. I have the kill switch. Edwards: What did you say? How could you know about that? 47: You will head towards the harbour. No sudden moves, no signs or warnings. I will trigger the device if I need to. Edwards: I know you. The boy in the picture… you have his eyes. You’re Burnwood’s assassin. 47: Move.

Edwards: “Partners no more”… I take it. I had a notion something didn’t sit right with my mentor’s betrayal. You murdered him, I take it, to get to me? 47: Not just that. He had it coming. Edwards: Interesting. It was my impression that you were cured of such… sentiment. The ‘good doctor’ built his serum specifically to target the seats of your emotion. Has Miss Burnwood’s sense of justice rubbed off on you, I wonder? 47: Just keep walking.

Edwards: For what it’s worth, Janus always found Ort-Meyer’s project distasteful, not to mention inefficient. But alas, sometimes you have to play the hand you’re dealt. 47: Oh, I know.

Edwards: I take it this is not an ICA-sanctioned operation. What exactly does Miss Burnwood plan to achieve by targeting her clients? Violating her own code? 47: She’s doing it for us. Edwards: Us? … Oh, I see. The penny drops. I should have known. How does a man leave no trace? By not existing in the first place. Lucas Grey - or was it Subject Six? He died when the Institute went up in flames, but no body was ever produced. And unlike you, his rage never faded. So… now you want the Partners. The men behind the curtain who have called you all this pain. Well, before you go knocking down a wall, you better make sure it’s not load bearing.

Why did you stop? Did you change your mind?

I'll be at the harbour, then.

With Constantin

Edwards: How are you doing, Constantin? Constantin: First year without the old man. It is… strange. Edwards: You could have gone with him. You never had to stay on this rock. Constantin: This is where he wanted me. Besides, I like the crisp air, the guests. Those scientists are extremely interesting. What will they think of next? If I may, sir, how did he die? Edwards: Peacefully. Constantin: Ah, it’s just I hear things. Would you believe I never worried when he was with the KGB, forefront of the Cold War? What could possibly go wrong? But his next employers… Edwards: You shouldn’t talk about this, Constantin. Constantin: No one should be this powerful, sir. Too much power in too few hands is like a lightning rod. I worry for you as well. Edwards: I appreciate it, but there’s really no need. Constantin: Very good, sir.

With Block

Edwards: Mr. Block, you look troubled. Block: I know you, don’t I? You’re Janus’s man. Edwards: I’m a friend of the Ark Society, yes. If I may be so bold, I heard about your predicament and… well, I believe I may offer a fresh perspective. Block: Why not? Shoot. Edwards: Alright. Say the world does collapse. The weather goes haywire, the poles melt, and the Ark Society heads off to a comfortable artic sanctuary, while the rest of civilisation falls into chaos. Block: That’s about the gist of it. Sounds great to me. No more needy assholes. Why wait? Edwards: Well. You do realise what kind of place it would be, right? Block: What are you talking about? Edwards: A hundred or so people. No market. No economy. No social structures. It will be like a space colony. Everyone equal and dependant on each other. It will be egalitarian, sir. It will be, well… communist. Block: My… God. That’s what I paid almost two billion for? Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? Edwards: Merely food for thought, Mr. Block. Good night. Block: I… I need to err… think.

With La Verne

La Verne: You. Get me a Sazerac. Neat. Edwards: A Sazerac? Certainly. And what is your name again, sir? La Verne: La Verne. Why? Edwards: La Verne… good to know… La Verne: … what did he mean by that?

At the wake

Zoe: You should know, people are talking. Edwards: People always are, and I am always listening. Zoe: Cute. So, is it true? Was the old man murdered? Edwards: He died the way he lived, let’s leave it at that. Zoe: Easy for you to say, some of these morons think Sophia and I had something to do with his death. Edwards: Now why would they think you’d be capable of a thing like that? Zoe: Forget it, let’s get this over with.

Goodbye, old friend. And thank you for everything. Rest assured, I will finish what you started.

On the phone (to Mikhail)

Mikhail. Fill me in. … So the transcripts are real? Janus really did call the estate in Romania? Could the signal have been faked or the dates altered? … Don’t underestimate Lucas Grey. That’s a mistake we’re not making again. If he wanted Janus dead, he is fully capable of tricking ICA to do his dirty work. Don’t forget he’s done it before. The real question is why? If Grey somehow knew about Janus, he would use him to get to me, not have him killed. … Yeah, that bothers me as well. Let’s say Grey was just a figurehead and that Janus really was the true head of the militia. How did he make Cassidy turn traitor so fast? The man was loyal to a fault and yet Burnwood insisted that Janus and Cassidy worked together. The only explanation would be if ICA knew that Cassidy could contradict their version of the story. But this makes no sense. What reason would they have to go after Janus? ICA is neutral. … I need to think. Thank you, Mikhail.

On the phone (to Kadir)

Kadir. Fill me in. … When? Are you sure he’s militia? Why would one of Lucas Grey’s terrorists be robbing a money transport in Belgium? … So… this backs up the intel reports from ICA. After Grey dodged Burnwood and her agent in Romania, he issued a dark web message disbanding the militia. Bet it didn’t take long for some of them to turn to petty crime. Armed to the teeth with no one to guide them. … Get rid of them? Kadir. We never throw anything away that might be useful. We’ll send an Ether extraction team down. See if this… Mr. Mills doesn’t know something after all. Well done, Kadir.

At gunpoint

How did I not anticipate this?

You can’t possibly be that stupid.

How did I let this happen?

This can’t be.

Oh, is that how it is?

No… no, no, no.

#npcs #arthur edwards #isle of sgail

Claus Hugo Strandberg (Marrakesh)

Facing the window possible lines

“Too big for jail?” God damn right I am. It’s people like me who sustain the economy, not you. We get the ideas, we put in the hours, we conjure up the money so you idiots can buy your flat screen TVs. For every person I robbed, there’s 10 people who owe me a job. So get off my back.

“We are the people.” What kind of arseholes advertise their own mediocrity? Is this supposed to make them feel better? “We’re all losers, but by galling we’re in it together.” No wonder they aren’t going anywhere.

What are you, all bark and no bite? Just throw a stone already, so we can get this thing over with. We’ll see who gets the last laugh. I’ll be sipping Mai Tais and you’ll be exploring the wonderful world of military rule. So long, suckers.

“String him up!” Oh, now that’s just a little over the top.

“We demand justice!” Yes of course you do. Remind me to send you all pictures from Argentina! I’ll wipe my arse with a couple of brandy and viewing pleasure. Morons.

Waiting for the interview

Pam Kingsley and her people should have arrived. Ah well, I’ll take a stroll. Let me know when they get here.

I see Kingsley is still a no show. Well, I’ll take a stroll around the building.

Still no sign of the TV crew. Well, I’ll swing by in a few.

To Mathias

Mathias. Lot 96? Excellent. Did anyone follow you? Good. You got all the paintings from the safe room? The Rembrandt and the Pollock? Ah, that’s great, Mathias. You can keep the Kroyer. I know you always liked it. Nonsense! A small token of my appreciation. Just don’t show it to anyone. It’s supposed to be hanging at the Skagen Museum. Me? It’s best if you don’t know. Let’s just say you won’t have to cry for me. So long, Mathias.

To Providence

It’s Strandberg. Uner the circumstances, I don’t really give a shit who’s supposed to be calling who. Look, I want your word a jet is waiting for me once this… travesty is over. Well I want it again! And what about my money? When? I checked the accounts an hour ago. If you’re trying to rip me off- Who doesn’t need seven billion dollars? You know what? At this point, I almost don’t care. I served you people loyally for years. Just get me the hell out of here in one piece.

To Eva

This is Claus Strandberg. Someone called me from this number. Eva? My god, how long has it been? I guess you heard what happened but don’t worry, I’m fine. I- you’re where? Outside? What do you mean, in the crowd? Sign that says what? “String him-“ Now, Eva, that’s no way to talk about your father, is it? Look, I know we didn’t end on the best of terms, but still- Yes, that was technically your money, but you didn’t need it. You were just a kid. Okay. If I apologise, will you put down the sign… Eva? Eva? Ugh. Children. What a sham.

To Erik Olander

Claus: Those losers out front are really getting worked up, aren’t they? Thanks for the suit, by the way. I’ll never be a fan of prison orange. Olander: You keep it. Claus: You don’t like me much, do you, Olander? Olander: Well it hardly matters. So you think this whole scheme will even work? Claus: I- well I don’t see why not. I work the pros into a frenzy. The tough guys swoop us to safety, and Zaydan rolls in with his tanks to save the day. It’s a solid plan. Elaborate but hinging on a very simple principle. Olander: And what’s that? Claus: People are idiots.

Claus: Phew, it’s getting hot out there. Olander: So you are human. Claus: Well. Hm. I wonder if the same goes for our mysterious employers. Does Zaydan know who they are? Olander: Hardly. Nobody does. Even the Heralds don’t have a clue. You’ve got to marvel at their discipline. When did they get to you? Claus: Oh, years ago. When I worked at a Chinese hedge fund. They’re the ones who made me head of FBM. Cushy job. Guess I shouldn’t have pulled that Ponzi scheme… or gotten caught anyway. But when I ended up in jail, one of the Heralds showed up with a brand new offer. Olander: Money and a clean slate. Yet your name will live in infamy. Tough call. Claus: It’s… it’s funny. People keep saying that.

Claus: Oh, I tell you, I’m starting to get cold feet about this whole interview business. Olander: Walls closing in, eh, Claus? Claus: Just make sure those commandos in the basement are ready. Are you sure the evacuation tunnel is safe? Olander: Relax. Walked the route myself. You reappear in some old shop downtown, very close to Zaydan’s field HQ. Once the heat is down, they’ll sneak you out of the city. Claus: Is the jet waiting? Olander: Strandberg, we may serve the same master, but I’m not your goddamn secretary. Claus: Oh, fucker.

Waiting for the masseur

Did the masseur check in with security? He’s here to relieve my back pains.

The house masseur, is he around? We have an appointment.

Miss Persson called in a masseur for me. Has he arrived?

Reaching the safe house

Oh, I appreciate it. Thank you. I’ll let Zaydan know what a good job you did.

Oh, finally! Yes!

Outside the school

Claus: Yes, well I couldn’t have done it without you, Zaydan. Zaydan: Tell me, which slogan is your favourite? I like “bankers are wankers”. Claus: Yes. Well just put me on a plane. I did what was asked for me and I’ll take my money and run, if it’s all the same to you. Zaydan: Why did you do it, Claus? We serve the same master. We’re very well provided for. For the love of god, man, why risk it all? Claus: You don’t get it. It’s not about the money. It’s about the game. Zaydan: Well, speaking of, I have a government to topple. Claus: Yes and be quick about it.

Officer: Mr Strandberg, there’s been an incident. I need you to wait out here for the time being. Claus: W- you- I- don’t be absurd! I’m the most wanted face in the country. I demand to speak to General Zaydan! Now! Right now! Officer: I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir. He is… indisposed at the moment. Please stay put. It’s for your own protection. Claus: Ridiculous!

With Zaydan

Claus: A lot of firepower. Zaydan: We get by. Claus: But will it be enough? Only a matter of time before the mob finds out I flew the coop. At least the consulate had thick walls. Zaydan: Oh, I think we’re safe.

Alone in the school

Oh, almost there.

Here’s to greed.

Argentina, here I come.

And here’s to Charles Ponzi.

Well, no such thing as bad publicity.

Here’s to mortgage bank securities.

Alone, after Zaydan’s death

Oh, I can’t believe I’m in this fix. The people who run this are imbeciles, all of them. Zaydan is the one… I thought I trusted him, I can’t trust… the whole thing has exploded in my face. It’s a preposterous situation for someone like me to be in. No one understands. No one has a clue as to what’s really going on in the world, and I’m the only one who has any idea at all, they’re all idiots! God.

Pre interview

Aha, capital, you made it. Come on in, come in, good. Pam Kingsley, a pleasure. I watch your show all the time. You’re even more lovely in the flesh. And this is…?

Tyler and Finley. Splendid. Well, let’s do this, shall we? Where do you want me? The light is nice over here. Not like I want to tell you boys how to do your job, good heaven.

Oh, no, no, please, call me Claus.

Interview

It’s like my feet hasn’t touched the ground, Miss Kingsley. These last few weeks… everything that’s happened to me, it’s just utterly unreal.

Such were the charges, yes.

Well, I can only conclude that the Moroccan authorities must have misunderstood their own legislation.

None of those transactions were illegal. Everything was done in strict accordance with Moroccan law. Now you might call it a loophole. You might call it creative bookkeeping. But the law is the law, Miss Kingsley. And I am a firm believer in the law.

Why not? An opportunity presented itself and I seized it. Again, all within the confines of the law. So what should I apologise for, hm? Being a capitalist? Perhaps the term has fallen out of favour with your middle class viewers, Miss Kingsley, but me? I bear that brand perfectly. Capital C.

Well, that I’m afraid I cannot answer. Some philanthropist sympathetic to my ordeal, no doubt. I appreciate the gesture but the approach was somewhat excessive and really quite unnecessary. I would have walked free eventually once justice had run its due course.

Um, two little words: fuck you.

Post interview

How did I do, Miss Kingsley?

Meeting Zaydan

Huh, that’s odd. He’s the one who called the meeting. General? General Zaydan? Hello? I guess I can wait.

General.

I beg your pardon? You summoned me.

You called Olander and told him the code. “Honeycomb?”

Wait, what does that mean? Are you saying someone else brought us down here? But who would have known the code apart from the Heralds and…

Ah, right. Yes, yes.

Meeting the masseur

Oh good, there you are. Claus Strandberg. Call me Claus. So, to the massage room, shall we? This muscle tension is killing me and I don’t have a lot of time.

What a morning, eh? Not every day you get busted from jail. A shame about the guards at the prison transport but I suppose risk is part of the job.

I am going to miss this country. She has been awfully good to me. But at least I’m not going back home. Scandinavian winters? Enough said.

Ah, so the man with the golden touch. Let’s get started, shall we? Ah, this muscle tension is killing me.

Oh, please, call me Claus.

While being massaged

I tell you, nothing makes you tense like thousands of people wanting to kill you. Oh, people are funny. The fact is, if those morons had bothered to learn the first things about marketing investment, my scheme would never have worked. Greed and ignorance, my friend. Those are the cornerstones to any good con. But you see, easy money, that’s all people care about. So they can drive their ridiculous urban SUVs and drink wine on a Thursday or a Tuesday, whatever, and tell each other how they made it. It’s pathetic. I own a private jet. I made it. Tell you what. You seem like a sensible guy. So I’ll give you this one for free. You should pack up and leave the country because things are about to become unpleasant.

I feel a lot better. You really do have the golden touch. If ever you’re looking for steady employment, well, I’ll let you know where I wind up. Good day, Mr Engström. And better not tell people where you’ve been, eh?

Oh. What is it now? Really, I don’t have all day.

With the intern

Finally! You must be Olander’s intern. Claus Strandberg. Did you bring the things I requested? Follow me.

Did you have trouble getting into the building? Ah, I’m going to miss that penthouse. Best view in all of Marrakesh. So, where is my stuff? I trust you got my father’s watch? What? Cat got your tongue? Are you telling me you haven’t gone yet? What the hell’s the matter with you? Don’t you see I’m in a hurry? Get going right now, for if I’m airlifted out of here and my father’s watch ends up in a two bit pawn shop somewhere, I will personally make sure intern becomes the highest point of your career. We’re done here.

When close

I’m sorry, could I just be left alone?

Okay, that is way too close. Please, step away.

Watch where you were going.

That was rude.

Ex- uh- an apology is in order when you bump into someone. That’s rude.

About Strandberg

Civilian 1: Strandberg is a lunatic. Civilian 2: No, he is capitalism. That’s what we all want this day and age, right? Civilian 1: Not me. Civilian 2: That’s a load of rubbish. We all want these Western materialistic things. Flatscreens, sneakers, wealth. He just found a loophole. I hate his guts but he’s clever. Civilian 1: Yeah, yeah, give him credit.

Civilian 1: I hope this won’t get out of hand. Civilian 2: Oh, they’re angry. Civilian 1: What do they expect when a jerk like Strandberg comes to our country and cons us all? It’s the way the West is, and we’re the idiots falling for it. And now, if there’s a riot, we’re the barbarians. Civilian 2: Yeah, yeah, blame the Muslims. Civilian 1: Exactly. Well I say, break down those walls now before the news choppers start swarming. Civilian 2: Look, violence doesn’t solve anything. What will we get out of Strandberg being lynched? Our money back? Civilian 1: We’ll get justice.

Civilian 1: I hope we get that Swedish pig. You know, he should be begging for his life after what he did. Civilian 2: You lost money? Civilian 1: I lost everything! I wanna see him hang. Civilian 2: No you don’t. That won’t get you your money back. Civilian 1: No, but I will have justice. You know, I’ll have peace. Civilian 2: You’ll feel empty. Violence doesn’t solve anything. Civilian 1: Yes it does. I will have justice. I will have peace. Civilian 2: You’ll have nothing.

Civilian 1: Why do all those people hate the Swedes all of a sudden? Civilian 2: You haven’t seen the news? Strandberg. You know who I mean? Civilian 1: Yeah. I’m not that dumb. Civilian 2: Well, he managed to escape this morning. Now he’s seeking asylum at their consulate. They are all mad as hell and I can’t blame them. He should be judged by our law. Civilian 1: He’s gonna get ripped apart. Civilian 2: Yeah, it’s not good.

Staff 1: It’s insane if you ask me. We risk the safety of the whole consulate for some white collar criminal? Staff 2: Look, we don’t know that! Until there’s an actual ruling, we have to give Strandberg the benefit of the doubt. He is a Swedish citizen. Staff 1: Come on, as if anyone doubted he did it. Staff 2: Well maybe Olander has access to information we don’t. You think of that? He’s the consu- He wouldn’t refuse a handover and create a diplomatic incident unless he had a damn good reason. And Stockholm is backing his decision. The Foreign Minister himself has- Staff 1: It’s a bad judgement call, Selma. Mark my words. And you and me, we’re at the receiving end.

Staff 1: So uh, what do you make of him? Strandberg? Staff 2: I don’t know. He seems nice. Insists on shaking hands with everybody, even the cleaning staff. And he actually remembers your name. Then again, that’s what they do, isn’t it? You know, sociopaths. That’s how they get you to trust them. Staff 1: Well, you know what I heard? Staff 2: No, let’s hear it. Staff 1: Okay, so Strandberg studies Economics in Stockholm but he never graduates. Instead, he creates a fake web of stellar academic credentials including a Business MBA and a PHD in Macro-Economics from “Kronstadt University”. Staff 2: I’ve never heard of it. Staff 1: Exactly. So the guy lands a prestigious job with a powerful UK investment bank. However when his employers began questioning his credentials, Strandberg pays a Hollywood actress to impersonate an official from “Kronstadt University” to verify his degrees. Staff 2: You’re kidding me. You know, I kinda love that. Staff 1: Yeah, well, don’t let him sell you anything. See you later. I gotta erase my hard drive in case we’re invaded. Staff 2: Yeah, I hear that.

Security: Sorry, Alden. Council’s orders. You gotta stay out of view until the Strandberg thing blows over. We don’t want to muddy things any further. Hansson: Pfft, Strandberg. Give me a break. He’s just a one hit wonder. Anyone can steal a bunch of money. How does that make the world a better, freer, more open place? Security: Yeah, I don’t really think that was what he was going for, Alden. Hansson: I, on the other hand, have mobilised millions. I have removed the wool from the public’s eyes, and what do I get? Room with not so great view. You know how long I have been in here exiled collecting dust while I should be out there, fighting the good fight? Security: Three years, nine months and twenty seven days. Hansson: Three years, nine months and twenty seven days. That’s how long. And you know how long it’s been since anyone’s so much as mentioned me on the news? Security: Five weeks and thirteen days. Hansson: Five weeks and thirteen days, my friend. People are forgetting about me, and all the while this Strandberg character gets all the headlines. Him, a common thief. What a world we live in. I don’t understand. Unlimited information was supposed to make people smarter. Security: You see, that’s your problem, Alden. Most people when left with a choice will gravitate towards the dumbest thing available. We now have the accumulated wisdom of mankind at our fingertips. We also have a billion hours of keyboard cat. Hansson: Keyboard ca… I don’t know what that is. Security: Of course you don’t, Alden. Of course you don’t.

Staff 1: I heard he did an Iron Man in Hawaii last year. 2.25 was his marathon time. I’m just saying. Staff 2: That’s nice, Jenny. Let me tell you a little story. Back when he first started out, Strandberg worked for this Beijing hedge fund. Dodgy as shit but that’s not the point. He married a local woman. Wealthy of course, with whom he had a daughter, Eva. Staff 1: Wait, Strandberg’s a father? Staff 2: In the loosest biological sense. He filed for divorce shortly after the birth of their daughter, and when the ex-wife later died from cancer, Strandberg saw it to con his estranged teen daughter out of a seven figure inheritance. Staff 1: You are joking. No one does that. That’s got to be slander. I mean, what’s next? Candy from a baby? Staff 2: Nah, he wouldn’t do that. I hear he’s on a strict protein diet. Staff 1: Okay, you know what, I’ve heard enough. Christ. IVF treatment seems more appealing every day.

Staff 1: What the hell is a Ponzi scheme? Staff 2: It’s a… okay, think of a pyramid scheme for high altitude investors. Yeah, it’s basically based on fraudulent investment management services where- Staff 1: Okay, okay, I wasn’t expecting an actual answer there. So how did Strandberg do it? I mean seven billion. How can you get away with something like that without people noticing? Staff 2: Where were you in 2007? Look, it’s a positive feedback loop. Nobody questions the validity of a system when it’s making them a ton of money. That’s human nature, Konny. Staff 1: Wonder where he stashed the loot. Staff 2: Maybe we should check him for map tattoos. Staff 1: No, but seriously. You actually think he might have buried it? Staff 2: No, sweetie, no, I’m thinking bitcoins.

#targets #marrakesh #claus hugo strandberg

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