Re: The 9S Story
Posted: Sat Apr 21, 2012 4:10 pm
Two more members wouldn't hurt at all indeed... There was much to be done to prepare for the upcoming storm.
The Laundry House, as it was called internally, was a facility where an operative was "trained", or rather "re-trained", as Templar, after being extracted from other factions. Maxime has been suspicious about the efficiency of their training, but the London HQ trusted them, so she concluded that this should be a sufficient voucher. After surveying the usual sources for potential recruits without finding anyone suiting, Maxime contacted them through the London HQ. She made the call from the secure connection in the boardroom.
"Xeeyon, Nine Swords. Authorization code..."
She dialed the code digits and soon, the call was transferred "To Whom It May Concern". A deep, rasp masculine voice picked up with a prosaic greeting.
"Good day, sir. We would have some fabric to pick up. Have you been processing a lot of fabric lately?
— Oh yes. Busy as bees. Change of season is coming, and some seasons are more busy than others. The upcoming one promises to be demanding, the market has been busting with activity lately."
So, they had many reconverted agents. It was not so surprising; with the storm brewing, factions have been on the move. The good side of this ominous situation is that they had many agents ready. Maxime continued.
"Ah, but it's good for business! So... We would need a denim ballot. Can you find this in your stock?"
"Denim" was a code to indicate an ex-Illuminati operative, masculine. A feminine operative would have been cotton. For a re-fitted Dragon operative, the codes were "linen" for a masculine operative and "silk" for a feminine. After a short while, the man came back on the phone.
"I have this right here, one ballot. We'll check the quality of the dye one last time to make sure it's clean and ready for you.
— Wonderful. One of our employees can do the pick up if you would be so kind as to send the ballot to the Ealdwic post office. You can send us the purchase order through our Head Office in London. Thank you so much."
The method of contact was also coded. A "pick-up" means that the operative will not be given the coordinates of Nine Swords, but rather be sent to the location indicated in the call. The client would recognize the "ballot" based on the file — the "purchase order" — received from the Laundry House. A "delivery" along with a location would indicate that the operative would be sent at the location and initiate the contact with the client. The circumstances did not warrant taking such a risk.
Maxime hung up, leaned back in the chair and interlocked her fingers behind her neck, staring blankly at the long table.
"Okay... The Laundry House has a man ready to get on the field, ex-Lumie. They'll make a last check to make sure he's clean and send us his file via the HQ when they send him our way. They'll send him at the post office, so I'll write him a letter with instructions, he can pick it up from general mail delivery."
Maxime turned and looked over her shoulder.
"I think I'll send him to the Horned God. Nice place, reminds me of St. Stephen's tavern near the parliament... That, and I like their fries."
She grinned.
The Laundry House, as it was called internally, was a facility where an operative was "trained", or rather "re-trained", as Templar, after being extracted from other factions. Maxime has been suspicious about the efficiency of their training, but the London HQ trusted them, so she concluded that this should be a sufficient voucher. After surveying the usual sources for potential recruits without finding anyone suiting, Maxime contacted them through the London HQ. She made the call from the secure connection in the boardroom.
"Xeeyon, Nine Swords. Authorization code..."
She dialed the code digits and soon, the call was transferred "To Whom It May Concern". A deep, rasp masculine voice picked up with a prosaic greeting.
"Good day, sir. We would have some fabric to pick up. Have you been processing a lot of fabric lately?
— Oh yes. Busy as bees. Change of season is coming, and some seasons are more busy than others. The upcoming one promises to be demanding, the market has been busting with activity lately."
So, they had many reconverted agents. It was not so surprising; with the storm brewing, factions have been on the move. The good side of this ominous situation is that they had many agents ready. Maxime continued.
"Ah, but it's good for business! So... We would need a denim ballot. Can you find this in your stock?"
"Denim" was a code to indicate an ex-Illuminati operative, masculine. A feminine operative would have been cotton. For a re-fitted Dragon operative, the codes were "linen" for a masculine operative and "silk" for a feminine. After a short while, the man came back on the phone.
"I have this right here, one ballot. We'll check the quality of the dye one last time to make sure it's clean and ready for you.
— Wonderful. One of our employees can do the pick up if you would be so kind as to send the ballot to the Ealdwic post office. You can send us the purchase order through our Head Office in London. Thank you so much."
The method of contact was also coded. A "pick-up" means that the operative will not be given the coordinates of Nine Swords, but rather be sent to the location indicated in the call. The client would recognize the "ballot" based on the file — the "purchase order" — received from the Laundry House. A "delivery" along with a location would indicate that the operative would be sent at the location and initiate the contact with the client. The circumstances did not warrant taking such a risk.
Maxime hung up, leaned back in the chair and interlocked her fingers behind her neck, staring blankly at the long table.
"Okay... The Laundry House has a man ready to get on the field, ex-Lumie. They'll make a last check to make sure he's clean and send us his file via the HQ when they send him our way. They'll send him at the post office, so I'll write him a letter with instructions, he can pick it up from general mail delivery."
Maxime turned and looked over her shoulder.
"I think I'll send him to the Horned God. Nice place, reminds me of St. Stephen's tavern near the parliament... That, and I like their fries."
She grinned.