When ‘invited’ company finally granted him the pleasure of a face-to-face conversation, Mycroft could safely say that the man was nothing like he’d expected, but at the same time, catered perfectly to the mould of expectation he’d built of him. After all, cameras obstructed so much; being built by flawed creatures of the earth, it was to be expected of them to also possess limitations – which in this case, were physical restrictions. Appearances were their forte, but anything that extended further than that were considered the bane of their existence. Ticks, breaths and twitches were all made blunt by surveillance feeds.
How was one to observe, for example, that beneath emerald eyes tantalizingly dancing along the borders of green and blue, there was an inquisitive study flickering behind them? The ravenous look ever-present in brother’s eyes was mirrored here, yet so very dull. There was a curious desire, yes, but not so far-reaching or intense – curiosity that was apparently, currently aimed his way. It wasn’t nearly enough to shake him – no, rarely anything was, unless the right factors came into play – and so he carried on his study for details that were decidedly lacking from various CCTV monitors.
The next thing he noted was the pleasantly courteous smile accompanying the handshake. It was far too genteel, but it was not one that signified brushing someone off. It was easy enough to piece apart, owing to the subtle signs of his lack of sleep. Lanky in build and accustomed to business propriety from the hand contact, he spent some time indoors – smelling faintly of ink – and yet… not so lacking in muscular mass to betray constant travels. As to where… well, that was hardly a matter of precedence at the moment.
The time of first-impression observation had passed in just such a handful of seconds that there appeared no lag between the compliment of the opera and his reply of “Quality far often exceeds quantity, I’ve been told”. He moved towards the opposite side, seating himself, and continued, “But that is, of course, only under the presupposition that there lies potential behind that one, detrimental or otherwise.” Mycroft smiled then, or at least imitated a cordial one, as though a joke had been shared between friends. But just as soon as it arrived, it left, replaced into a neutral expression.
The question of his identity remained unanswered.
“You must have guessed by now that the reasons for this meeting are more than just a… cordial visit,” the male began, a hand subtly reaching out to correct the slight angle in the otherwise perfectly set tableware. His speech increased in cadence – if only slightly, to hint at some sort of feigned urgency – and with the sped-up words came the subtlest of Grecian accents. “I am a lawyer representing the Trevor Industries Balkan Peninsula branch. I’ve been sent to hand over an accident report, Mr. Trevor.” The name was spoken with such ease that it just as well hinted that he’d been an associate of the man for some years. “Three of the major mines have collapsed, and there has been an estimated casualty of over one hundred. Rescue operations are still underway, and at least sixty people have been accounted for. Luckily there has been a lack of noxious gases and the structures have stabilized, and the only visible threat is hunger.”
“However, the clearance of obstructions have been temporarily halted by… enthusiasts against the mining operations. It’s been at a stalemate for two days now, and no one is above acting through more violent means unless someone of authority,” he paused here, staring pointedly at the other, “presents himself. You see, the men may be put on hold, but if this matter is not settled soon, the local government will be forced to act, and I am afraid…” A grim look overtook his features. “That will cost much more than would be profitable for business.”
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