[Finished] Great minds think alike

[Moved.]

Empire Typhoon:
Part one: Great minds think alike

this thread is [complete]

February 1st, 2007 7:48PM
Brooklyn, NY 11211

It was a bustling little hole in the wall, a few feet off of Grant Street in Williamsburg. Tyler had left his dwelling early in order to make it on time, but he hadn’t realized that 318 Grant Street and Pepino’s were minutes away from one another. He had treaded in the snow only for a few blocks to attain his destination, but when he walked into the diner he looked worse for wear. The cold and wet snow were a good reminder as to why he had left England for warmer islands.

Agent Harle had spent the past eleven months in Southeast Asia, tracking a potent opium warlord to little avail. All his research in the Indies had led him to the great apple, where he presumed the distributor was located in the Bronx, where a large Cambodian populace resided. In order to facilitate the capture of Kong Kea San, the British and American agencies had decided to put in contact the two agents who had been separately working on the case.

The walls were plastered with framed photographs, newspaper articles, and shelves lined up with trophies. The leather seats were torn, tinged mousse overflowing from the broken seams. Ridding himself of his thick coat and scarf, Tyler settled in a booth towards the front of the restaurant where he would wait for Agent Lecroix as they had agreed upon by encrypted e-mail exchanges.

A waitress handed him a menu, which he promptly set aside as he explained he was waiting for someone. Despite it being dinner time and an appetizer being more suited for the occasion, Tyler ordered himself a cup of black coffee to warm himself up whilst he waited. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a comic book he had purchased in Thailand before his departure; this little thing had helped him master the language when he'd first arrived there.

[/SIZE]

[Christian Lecroix]

DATE: 02012007

Rachel.

Christian opened his eyes to find a computer screen filled with numerous persons missing reports glaring back towards him. Taking a few seconds to gather his mind around, he slowly lifted his head to see where he was. He was still at the Bureau behind the desk that had been made for him. With a long sigh, Christian brought his hands to his face and smoothed up from his chin to where his hairline started. He glanced around to see the darkness had enveloped the entire section of the office aside from the break room and a few open desks but were vacant their agents.

Looking back towards the screen, Rachel’s photo was still taking up half the screen while her file occupied the other half. Christian exited out of the screen and logged off the computer as if he had been preparing to return home for the evening. It wasn’t until his cell phone started beeped from his trousers pocket that he realized the meeting with Agent Harle had been tonight as well. Christian checked his wristwatch quickly before donning his blazer and black overcoat for the cold weather outside.

He didn’t bother locking up behind him since the twenty-four hour guards roaming the building were still in effect. Christian made his way across town rather easily since he remembered this place like it had been imprinted on the back of his hand. Pepino’s. Was the restaurant that had been chosen to meet about the current assignment he had been working on for the last eight months. The Warlord Kong Sea San had been running illegal drug trafficking rings within the Bronx for some of the pasts months now. When it was found to be on United States soil, MI-6 had contacted the agencies overseas for permission to work it. The FBI had taken over jurisdiction but allowed an agent to work alongside chosen Agent Lecroix.

As he founding a parking space alongside the road a block down, he exited his vehicle and started walking towards the restaurant. When he reached the front door, Christian ignored all the walls lined with decorations to give it a homey vibe. Instead Christian found Agent Harle sitting behind a booth with a comic book and coffee. When he approached, the waitress was quick herself to intercept him as he settled into the opposite side of the booth. Ordering a regular black coffee himself, he nodded to the waitress and then turned his attention towards Agent Harle, his new partner.

“Good to meet you finally.”

[Moved.]

The restaurant’s ambiance gained a bit more livelihood as a group of twelve or so older men made their way to a long table at the back of the small room. Tyler glanced over the edge of his book briefly, but saw no imminent threat as they all seemed to be discussing the bowling match they’d all just had; as if that wasn’t enough, they were all still clad in matching outfits. Clearing his throat, he offered the waitress a smile and a ‘thank you’ as she set a large ceramic cup of their darkest brew on the table. Just as he raised the coffee to his lips, the door opened once more, causing yet another gush of cold air to propel his way. Setting down the cup and comic on the table, Tyler stood as the familiar face approached. To be frank, the picture on file of Agent Lecroix looked far better than the man himself, though it often was the case, for their kind rarely kept a healthy schedule. It was a bit of a culture shock when the agent plopped himself down and addressed the waitress first, but the Brit merely watched them interact and lowered himself back to his seat. Over the course of the years, his study and immersion in Asian cultures had led to a heightened sense of political correctness and politeness that was often unattainable by Western cultures.

Offering the other a smile, he reached for his comic book and closed it in such a way that made it evident he had been reading right to left and not the usual way. Setting the item aside on his folded coat, he spoke with a modified British slur; his time in the East had caused a slightly intonation to set itself into his speech.

Indeed, it is very good to finally make your acquaintance he reciprocated, glancing over at the clock on the wall and then outside.

Though, may I say, what ghastly weather you have here, Bundy

Reaching for his cup, he brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip before deeming the liquid too hot for his tongue.

[Christian Lecroix]

Christian had recognized Agent Harle from a photograph the department had provided for him prior to making his acquaintance this evening. When he glanced over his new partner once before making any more comments, he was thoroughly disappointed. The picture made Agent Harle look much older than he really appeared to be in person. Though Christian didn’t provide any hints that he was disappointed to be working with a very young man, and probably new to MI6. Instead, he shoved his frustrations beneath a cool expression but later his CO would be hearing it from him. As Christian listened to the young agent, he pulled out his cell phone and made sure that it would not be a nuisance throughout the course of the meeting.

When he spoke about the weather, Christian couldn’t help but stifle a deep chuckle when he was called “Bundy.” His old partner who had moved to the international relations section of the Bureau had charmed up his old mission name from their stint in Panama. “Please, Bundy is a nickname. I apologize for the mistake in names. My name is Henry Michaels.”

Before Christian could offer up some kind of explanation, they were interrupted by the same waitress that had intercepted him. She placed his own black coffee in front of him on a coaster before questioning for anything else. Christian shook his head from side to side but gestured towards his companion. “Unless you requires something else before we start.” Christian perked a brow towards Agent Harle.

Truth be told, he wasn’t in for making pleasantries before they would start working together. He wanted to know what this Agent had in store for them and his patience from work had already been worn thin. Rachel’s case had been closed. It hadn’t even been two years and it was being closed. He just wanted to move on from it.

[Moved.]

New York was a grand city, filled with all tiers of people. It would be possible for two strangers to meet in a place such as this, but it was still rather unorthodox to go through the introductory motions again. Tyler raised his eyebrow as the other corrected him, and for a minute the Brit pondered whether Lecroix was pulling his leg. The documents had said Bundy, but then they had been forwarded to him by a third party, which could result in errors. Still, it was out of place to introduce himself when they had already established being in contact prior; if someone was onto them, that would have been caught, surely. Clearing his throat as he glanced up at the waitress and reached for the menu, truth be told he was rather hungry.

“I’ll have the house cannelloni, with grilled chicken, please” he smiled distractedly, handing the menu over hesitantly before glancing back at Lecroix, “Nothing better than a home cooked meal on a cold day, ey? You don’t mind, do you Michaels?”

Bringing he coffee cup to his lips, the masked his smile for the agent across the table did not seem to appreciate the joke much. Clearing his throat, Tyler glanced in the waitress’ direction as she made her way to the kitchen to place the order(s), “I spoke with Charles an hour ago. Apparently a new shipment was stopped at the border, it was headed here when it was stopped at Miami... How many people are working with you, Mr. Michaels?“

[Christian Lecroix]

“I didn’t plan on staying long.” Christian replied curtly.

Reaching for the white mug, he watched the steam rise from the black liquid swirling around inside. He placed his hands around the sides to warm them from the bitter cold weather they had endured outside. As Christian watched the young agent order food, he let out a long sigh before bringing the coffee to his lips. He swallowed the hot liquid forcefully as he made a small face when it burned down the back of his throat. Setting the mug down, he leaned back against the cushioned section of the booth and reached into the inner pocket of his coat.

“Yes…I ordered it to have someone in the Miami division to reroute it on a well-tracked route.” Christian nodded. There had been no point in playing games with the Agent Harle since it was no on American soil. The FBI had been adamant about jurisdictional issues with the MI6 but allowed one of their agents to help in the investigation. When Christian pulled his hand out from the inside of his jacket, he placed down a small leather-bound notebook on the top of the table. Without bothering to answer his question about the number of people working on the case, he opened the inside and flipped through a couple of pages. “We have enough.”

Looking through the pages individually, Christian found the information he had been searching for. Pulling out two photographs, he slid both of them in front of the young agent and then closed the book. “Those two men are our inside.”

[Moved.]

Tyler was well aware that the nature of this meeting would not go as he had planned. To be honest, he had not exactly been looking forward to working with a new partner, especially after handling the situation on-location perfectly fine. The FBI was not well-reputed when it came to international affairs in Asia, and he had an ill feeling about the entire ordeal as it was. As the youngest member of the fleet, Tyler had been assigned the most troublesome job—dealing with the Yanks. His three coworkers remained scattered across Asia and in London, enjoying the luxury of proper tea and politeness. Forcing a smile in return to Christian curtness, the Brit reached for the pictures and brought them to eye level.

He didn’t recognize these men. Something told him that there was going to be trouble if he doubted Agent Lecroix, but the man’s actions were not to his liking. Tyler was under no misapprehension that he would command the same respect amongst American peers, for in the eyes of those who had only read his file, he was but a child in the force. Yet, he had graduated top of his class and spent a considerable amount of time getting himself up to par, which had earned him a great deal of respect amongst his fellow SIS colleagues.

Setting the picture back down, he slid it back at the other and held his gaze evenly.

“I was not aware that the main informant on the planned route had encountered a problem...” he said quietly, hinting to his suspicions in order to coax an explanation from the other. Tyler was aware that his newest acquaintance was holding the cards for he was fully entrenched in the FBI, and so he would not make any moves until he had learned Lecroix’s approach to the game. Every person was handed the same deck of cards upon birth, but everyone had a different way of playing them.

As far as Lecroix would be concerned for now, Tyler was unaware of the rules and thus had no insight on which cards carried more weight. Gregory Allen was easily convinced, naïve, and above all, young and stupid. If Lecroix pushed his luck however, he may be unpleasantly surprised. Tyler was quite aware of the rules, he just wasn’t a man to gamble his life away.

[Christian Lecroix]

He let out a long sigh when Harle didn’t comment on the pictures Christian had just shared. The whole point of him sharing the information was a stepping stone between MI6 and the FBI. This whole international relationship between them was supposed to help build relations. Though he was unhappy about how young his new partner was, Christian planned on getting through this case and move onto the next. Whatever hidden plans MI6 was deciding to do, that was their own business to attempt. If Agent Harle was going to do something, he would not be Christian’s problem but he would answer to his own superiors after the FBI was through with him.

“My superiors want one of their own on the main route. Someone already on the inside here.” Christian shrugged his shoulders, as he reached forward to scoop up the pictures to slip them back into the leather bound notebook he carried. “It was my call because I was ordered to do it. I’m sure that is an easy concept to understand.”

“I hope you studied the second picture well, Allen.” Christian perked an eyebrow towards him. He wasn’t sure on Agent Harle’s experience in the field but the only reason why this was given to him was because he was from this area. Brooklyn was another place he knew the ins and outs of the city, the people and how it operated. NYC was nothing like SW Asia. There were many different rules and standards that were still followed. Kong Kea Son was just another warlord trying to make an international name for themselves. “Those two are the intercepted that were picked up last week and we will be taking their places. Mr. Son has no knowledge of their true identities so it gives us an advantage.”

[Moved.]

It was a shrewd plan indeed, but Tyler was not certain how well Christian understood the trafficking business in the Far East. Two white guys would not infiltrate such an Asian-dominated field with much luck of finding out anything. Surely there were ways, yes, but Tyler always based his decisions on numbers and those did not look to their advantage in this situation. Still, he was curious as to what Christian was planning, and so, tight-lipped, he nodded expressionlessly at the other before shrugging and looking out the window.

Clearing his throat, the younger male brought the cup to his lips as the waitress approached, setting down a rolled up set of cutlery and basked of bread for him. He nodded in thanks, but immediately turned his attention to Lecroix once she was gone. He glanced over the other and took in his pale appearance, a true New Yorker who hadn’t seen the sun in a few months, surely... How was he going to pull off a trafficker from the South, where the sun beat down upon the men daily? Tyler luckily had allowed his hair and facial hair to grow, his skin golden due to his many months down south.

“I believe you are far more practiced in the field, Mr. Michaels, and I am honoured to be working with you. I shall do my best to follow your word and meet your expectations...” Tyler told him, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile, “But I do not think that infiltrating as traffickers will not get us very far. I do believe it best if one of us infiltrates the lower tier, the loaders and packers, for example...“

With his knowledge in Asian tongues and dialects, Tyler would be able to work as a loader, or “Whitey boy” as they called those who were merely doing a job, but not involved. Surely Christian may fit the part of some pompous trafficker, but the MI6 representative had spent sufficient time playing dumb at the docks in Bangkok, to know he would get more out of a position like that than in the upper tiers.

[/size][/font]

[Christian Lecroix]

Christian stopped talking once the waitress returned with a basket of bread for his partner. This was not something he was used to enduring on a brief meeting but he was learning. Looking up from Harle, Christian watched as the waitress left the vicinity of their table before returning his attention to the prior. He could tell that Harle was skeptical of the whole approach that had been worked out by himself and another agent who had been in drug trafficking business for awhile now. Christian had specifically gone to another agent with ideas because of their experience dealing with drug lords in NYC.

“Why don’t we just get through it alive, eh?” Christian nodded towards Harle before offering a silent nod of thanks to him. The praise was more than enough as he shifted uncomfortably in the booth. “Well yes, I do believe that would work and I think you would be perfect for the role because we don’t know specifically where they hide the shipments once they reach New York. I think finding out that information would be very helpful in bringing down their suppliers and buyers. But things are a little different here, the rules are different.”

Pushing away the empty mug from him towards the end of the table before leaning forward. Propping his elbows on the edge closest to him, he clasped his hands together before watching both sides of him. Despite the area was a secure location, Christian couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched. Someone from the department was probably tailing him to this meeting, he didn’t put it past his superiors. “We’re not just bringing down him, he is a pawn in someone else’s game. We aim to take down everyone connected to him.”

[Moved.]

It was his ability to disassociate himself from personal thought and feeling for the sake of a mission that made him one of the few candidates fit for the MI6 team. Objective thought was critical when it came to successful missions, and though he had been told to never ignore his gut, he had been warned against being impulsive. Tyler did not say anything at first, diverting his eyes to scan and take in the surroundings lest onlookers assumed the two were on a date or having a staring contest.

“I do believe it is best we take one step at a time. It took me a long time to be welcomed in Bangkok—so I th—“ he sealed his lips as the waitress approached with a substantial portion of food, and his eyes visibly widened as he stared at the plate incredulously for a few seconds. When she asked if she could get anything else started for him, he shook his head and puffed breathlessly that this was plenty. In Thailand he was used to a bowl of soup and rice, and then a medley of savours that were shared amongst a group of at least three men.

“Anyways, why don’t you tell me about the rules...”

This way he could eat contently for a few minutes, learn a bit more about the man before him, and get a better idea of what card game they were playing. Reaching for the cutlery, he unwrapped it from its paper confines and set the napkin on the table—it had been a long time since he had resorted to knives, and so he set it aside dismissively. Clearing his throat, he poked at the chow a few times, rearranging various elements as he tried to find something familiar about its presentation. It smelled delicious, but he had grown so accustomed to Thai food... He surely didn’t mind immersing himself in the culture whilst struggling through this winter weather; spicy food may just make his stay here more bearable.

[Christian Lecroix]

There was still quite a bit of work that needed to be done.

At least, that’s how it looked from Christian’s end of the job that he would fill Agent Harle in on later down the road. To him, there was no point in giving the other agent information when he couldn’t be given all the details. Watching the waitress as she delivered a plate load of food, she questioned if anything else was wanted or needed. Christian shook his head as he propped one arm up on the back of the booth while turning his attention to Harle after the waitress left. Remaining silent, he wouldn’t start answering questions until the other agent was satisfied with the meeting so far.

“I’ve been informed as well as to tell you that your superiors can have him once the case is over with.” Christian added into the conversation as he watched Harle prepare his food. “We’re not interested in a smalltime. He is connected to larger fish here and that is what we are after.”

Reaching for his book again, Christian flipped it open and pulled out another picture of a gawky looking businessman. He didn’t look threatening or dangerous but then again, most businessmen didn’t. “His name is Jonathan Howard of Howard Industries. They specialize in manufacturing and shipping, primarily in southwest Asia. We have reason to believe that he is connected with your man. Though we haven’t been able to prove it…until now. Mr. Son is working with him, and that is our in.”

“The rules are different here because no profit can be made selling drugs on the street, at least not real money. Kong is, to my belief, not interested in smalltime drug running…but international. To be that large, he needs backing from a financer…and Mr. Howard is very well known in that circle for financing drug-running rings overseas.” Christian placed the photo next to Harle’s food so he could get a better look at it. “Basically, if we can connect Kong to Howard, the case is golden.”

[Moved.]

Tyler was not one to be discourteous, especially upon his first encounter with someone, but there was something about Lecroix that just rubbed him the wrong way. There seemed to be a need for the other to be above others, and though the Brit was more that willing to play the lowly part he had been cast for, it still caused something within him to click each time Lecroix spoke down to him. Realizing there was nothing he could say that would not reveal his slight annoyance, he opted to say nothing at all. The food was a great way of diverting statements that were expected to be commented upon, and so Tyler used the plate of homemade chicken cannelloni to his advantage.

When the American presented him with a picture of Howard, a face he had chanced upon in person a few months prior, Tyler set his fork down and reached for it. Chewing deliberately slow in order to avoid burning himself with the mouthful, he brought the picture to face level and looked at it closely. Howard Industries? Most peculiar that such a name had not been chanced upon in Thailand. Glancing over the edge of the picture at Lecroix, the brunette swallowed. Reaching across the table to hand the picture back as he picked up his fork once more, he finally spoke: So your two colleagues, in the previous picture you showed me, are known as traffickers in the circle, whom we shall be impersonating. I presume these men are connected with Howard then, otherwise it will be most arduous to be more than one person at a given time.

Lifting a forkful to his mouth, he furrowed his brow and allowed confusion to overtake his youthful features. There was something that was evading him, something wrong about this situation, and he cold not put his finger on it. Perhaps it was merely the company that was putting him off, but he doubted his gut would react so strongly to something so evident. No, there was something else, surely. Pushing the chow past his lips, he tilted his fork at the other slightly and

What exactly is it the FBI needs? The trafficking routes? Shipping orders? I presume Mr. Howard has a bogus business operation to cover up for this, or is he continuing normal business and using those routes to smuggle it?

[Christian Lecroix]

Christian watched him study the picture given to him before it was given back to him. After listening to the other agent speak about the individuals he had presented, he thought about the answer he would give. The hardest part of these meetings between international agencies was the fact that neither would be giving out the full information. He never believed in playing the shady card but his superiors didn’t want MI6 running the show on American soil. Christian knew about the hassles of this case when it was handed down to him after the last agent was getting fed up with it. There was too much political ties into this case that he found himself treading carefully.

“They are known traffickers but the good thing about these two is that they don’t work for one certain party. They are unaffiliated and that should be an easy way to play them once they are picked up by the FBI on the tracking route.” Christian nodded. “Howard hired them through a series of private transactions and his business contacts. Howard is not the kind of man to get his hands dirty with the lowly details. He has people to do that for him.”

What did the FBI need? Christian almost reached across the table to smack the younger agent upside the head. Reigning in his self control, he closed the leather bound book up and returned it to his jacket instead. “The FBI needs to establish a firm connection between Howard and Son. Once its established, we need to get financial transactions and records that link Howard to every other top player to bring down the whole institution. Does that make sense?”

Looking around, he watched the waitress for a moment and then turned his attention to the other patrons. This meeting was taking way too long and needed to be over soon before someone else picked up on what was happening. “He continues a legit business to cover his tracks. Howard is damn careful to make sure that any illegal activities are tied up in some kind of political bullshit. That’s why we haven’t made an arrest yet.”

[Moved.]

Politics, it made everything far more complicated than it had to be. Take this operation, for example, which Tyler was already convinced that it would not go as well as it could. Poking at his cannelloni, he did the nod-shrug thing that would convey he understood, but too many words had been exchanged already. Whereas he had hoped to meet at another time in a calmer setting, it was evident that Lecroix didn’t really do calm. Surely they had exhausted their conversational topic for now, and Lecroix didn’t look like a family man who would enjoy talking about his inexistent children. Truth be told, they’d probably be hearing and presenting all this again to some superior during their scheduled meeting the following week. Right now, Lecroix was putting a damper on his mood; as if the snow wasn’t sufficient. Clearing his throat, Tyler reached for the chilled glass of water the waitress had presented to him, something that in Thailand often required one ask the service for. Taking a lengthy gulp, he single-handedly reached into his coat for a pen. Setting the glass down, he reached for the paper napkin he’d yet to use, and neatly scribbled onto it.

As he slid it across the table, he spoke: If you are interested, just give me a call... I know he is a bit on the expensive side, but if you want something exotic of quality, he can get you in-touch with the right person...

Clearing his throat, Tyler smiled before turning his attention back to his cannelloni, setting his pen down on the table and scooping up a forkful of the pasta to his mouth. He cast a knowing glance in Christian’s direction before looking out the window. There, on the crinkly napkin in black ink read: Second stool left of the beer tap. Beige coat. You’ll see him on your way out.