Log:Heart of Hate, Scene 1

Heart of Hate 2009/01/30 	 Jennifer Roland Cheever 1

Jennifer is actually not entirely averse to ACE's aims. Unfortunately their methods are unproductive, dangerous, and mis-directed. There are good aliens and bad aliens. In her experience the more connected to the Guild a specific alien is the more likely they fall in the latter category. But ACE doesn't make that distinction. However there's worlds of difference between an alien like Sky Commander who helped out with the Horde invasion when the Guild simply sucked its collective thumb and sat doing nothing, and the likes of Guild Investigator De'Klarnn who demanded with unveiled threats that Earth hand over advanced technology obtained by beating off yet another alien invasion, once again without any help from the Guild. Doing some checking up and talking to a number of underworld and mercenary contacts Jennifer discovers a man named Roland Cheever might have some contact in ACE. If she finds Cheever, she might be able to set up a meeting with someone representing Aegisfire. Cheever is, it seems, a mover of money for persons illegitimate, a money launderer in other words. Roland Cheever can usually be found at The Third Bank of Burbank during the day or a local sports bar at night it seems from her investigations. Jennifer decides to approach him at the bank. He'll no doubt have guards there and feel more secure in his own building. So she stakes out the bank and when she sees him enter, waltzes in through the front doors and asks for an appointment.

Jennifer's holo-cloak provides a disguise. She carries a large black briefcase of the type used to move cash money around and goes for the smart but just a little flash and sleazy look of a well off drug dealer.

The bank is shining and bright in the afternoon, and the sun glares in through the many windows, the light reflecting off several pieces of artwork that could, at best, be described as esoteric. Violet carpeting rests across the entire floor, with walls done up in holomahogany loaded with security cameras underneath, no doubt. The wide, large room is filled with bankers and their customers, moving about.

Jennifer enters the bank via the main doors carrying the briefcase. She glances around out of habit, checking the number and quality of the guards in sight before heading over to towards one of the personal adviser's desks. "Good afternoon. I'd like to see Mr. Cheever if possible." She puts the briefcase on the desk and smirks.

"Mr. Cheever's in his office." The adviser says. "I'll buzz you in." She gives you a delicate yawn and hits the buzzer, and a sealed door opens in the back of the holomahogany. "Right back there..." She says with a sigh.

Jennifer nods, "Thank you." Picking up the briefcase she head through the door.

Mr. Cheever is sitting behind a desk in a plain wooden chair. He's middle aged, wearing sunglasses, and wearing a two button suit that hides a small paunch. His fingers have a couple extra thick gold rings, and his pocket has a cigar in it. This guy's a Rock-n-rolla, that's for sure.

Jennifer chuckles as she sees him. "Mr Cheever, I presume. May I start by saying the look suits you, it really does." She glances towards the chair in front of the desk. "Mind if I sit? If you're recording this conversation you may wish to stop doing so. This is an entirely unofficial visit."

Mr. Cheever chuckles and stokes his pencil thin mustache. "Right..." He says and flicks a switch. "So what do you want from the amazing Cheev?"

Jennifer sits and leans forward a little to empathize her seriousness. "I need a line to an ACE representative. If you could arrange a quiet informal meeting I would be most grateful. In fact I'd go so far as to say I'd own you a favour. That's not a comment to disregard lightly. Such a favour wouldn't extend to any unlawful action but I do have a certain ability to help out with problems."

Mr. Cheever raises an eyebrow and pulls out a cigar. "Hmmm..." He says. "So you want the Cheev to set up a meeting, huh?" He says. "You're upset about this whole alien crap?" He lights the cigar up. "The Cheev shall deliver...assuming the case is full of money and not full of condoms. The Cheev only works for green."

Jennifer doesn't smile. "I think green is nice too, Mr Cheever. That's why I rather hope I can keep the planet mostly that color and not a seared smoking black from pole to pole. So in that regard you might like to consider the payment for setting up a meeting to be every green colored bill in the entire world." She opens the briefcase to show it's empty. "This was a entry visa. Nothing more."

"This is a pay to play business." He says and he leans back in the chair. "So what are you going to show me up front that is going to get me to accommodate you. I'm not made of cheese."

You say, "I really had hoped to avoid the whole threats thing. It's so overdone. But I guess it's what I'm best at after all. If you don't help I'll run your illicit business into the ground. I'll make sure nobody wants to have any dealings with you because it will bring my and my associates down on them like a ton of bricks. I'll see everyday brings a building or fire or IRS investigator calling on you. That really would be a lot of hassle don't you think? And you can avoid it with a couple of inexpensive phone calls. Sounds like a wise investment to me."

"The Cheev does not like being threatened. The Cheev wants to be paid. And if the Cheev is not paid, you cannot gain the services of...the Cheev...' He yawns a little bit and smokes the cigar. "I own the IRS. What are you gonna do? Tax me?"

You say, "Well, first I think I'll explain to my associates how upset I am with your lack of assistance." She reaches slowly into a pocket and pulls out a egg shaped object. "Do you recognise this by any chance? It's a Wolfguard energy whip. Not many of them around really. It was suggested I bring it along as an indication just how much my associates want your co-operation. You really wouldn't want to make them unhappy with you. It's not healthy. And frankly, you can't buy the level of protection you'd need to stay safe if they were."

Cheever adjusts his tie a little bit. "The Cheev...will consider your request..." He mutters. "Robbing the Cheev is not recommended...however...how soon do you want this meeting?"

Jennifer puts the whip back inside her jacket. "Yesterday will be fine. But hard to arrange, no? As soon as possible. I don't know how much time we have. Alien minds are weird. In case you're wondering, as I'm sure you are, why my associates are concerned with this matter; well their Royal Caste feels that ruling a dead world is somewhat of a waste of effort. It would nullify generations of work."

Cheever sighs. "All right...I'll get you a meeting as soon as I can." He says. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Jennifer nods politely, lays a card with a one-time disposable cell-phone number on the desk. "Thank you, Mr. Cheever. Please don't think this is a defeat. I will owe you. Less than if you had co-operated without needing the prompting, but owe you neverless. And although I'm not of the level of my associates," she smiles, "I'm not ineffective."

Mr. Cheever scowls. "You're not the only one with a reputation to protect." He says fiercely. "Have a good day." He picks up the cell phone and leans back in his chair, smoking the cigar.

Jennifer thinks. o O (Maybe I ought to think about this. Setting up an identity as a high quality enforcer might be a great way to get information.)

Jennifer picks up the briefcase and departs. She employs a little tradecraft to break away from any shadow before returning th her usual appearance.