[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://shootingthescript.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/machete-2.jpg?w=455&h=300[/img][hr][b][color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Conference Room --> Security employee lounge
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	Caesar accepted the card with the barest of nods and took her hand briefly. This woman seemed to shoot straight without overtly revealing much that could not already be determined. He supposed it was a positive enough first meeting. At least his company retained the R&D facility contract, and with it access to the complex and equipment therein. Moreover, hanging onto the contract, or any decent contract nearby, gave them legal cause to carry and use otherwise restricted hardware, not to mention engage in investigations related to their contractor and personnel. Even if these people were directly responsible for the deaths of Alicia and Lorna, he would not give up that access. Hell, [i]especially[/i].

	The thought of his girls struck him - the very recent memory of having to identify their bodies, having to experience the solid fact of their deaths. It began to overwhelm him. Fearing a noticeable break in his exterior demeanor were he to attempt speech, Caesar looked at the card once again, nodded a vague affirmation of what Mrs. Queensguard promised to set up, and turned to leave the room. She had appointments to keep, and he had his own things to do. Not the least of which was to arrange for the interment of his daughter. 

	Someone would have to take over this location in full while Caesar did what he did best: Finding fuckers and making them pay. But now that the issue of trust, on all levels, came into question, restaffing became necessary. His man, Keystone - he believed he could place his trust in him. After all, it was MSS that sought him out, not the other way around. But he wasn't much more qualified to run the entire location permanently than Caesar was to handle their Tech division. The large man had made a few good suggestions. Caesar was going to use them. Additionally, there [i]was[/i] one person who, with assistance, he trusted to run this facility. But the conversation to recruit this person would be life-threatening. 

	The elder Mexican made his way from the conference rooms to the Security areas, less inviting places that were not quite as opulently furnished, and into the nearest employee lounge. He snapped a quick picture of Mrs. Queensguard's business card, front and back, then examined it closely. Regarding the small rectangle of rich pressed paper, he popped open the door to the microwave oven nearby and tossed it inside. He punched up fifteen seconds and watched as it slowly rotated. 

	As it cooked, he addressed his associate, Keystone. [color=orangered]"You had some good ideas. I'm going to make those happen. You get in touch with your guys in London, your old Director knows what you're doing here now. I'm calling our offices in Seattle, get our tech team down here. At least the ones that Alicia hired last year. Let's get our own Agents in this place, keep a lid on what's going on here."[/color]

	The momentum of the last few minutes altered as Caesar's phone buzzed quietly. An incoming text message (apparently [i]actually[/i] from Cecily this time) drew his attention away from both serious personnel overhaul discussion and nuking the newly acquired business card. His eyes scanned over it, even as a look of bitterness crossed his face. Short seconds had a reply sent before his attention returned to the here and now:

	[center][i][color=orangered][u]Understood. Be thorough, read me in later. Might stop by. Changes going on here.[/u][/color][/i][/center]

	Caesar changed his tone a bit, as he continued with Keystone, [color=orangered]"I'm going to have to leave town for a few days, okay? I might be sending someone back, that's going to take over as Director here. Now, this is important: Do you remember the meal you prepared for us in my apartment? Good, don't say it out loud. That's how you'll know to trust this person."[/color]

	Leaving the broad man wondering what the hell he was talking about, Caesar punched up the contacts on his satellite phone and began the first in a series of discussions that would shape the next week or so of his life, and his company for the foreseeable future. He rather wished he had a drink. 

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://images.tapology.com/letterbox_images/1633/default/mariusz_pudzianowski_klasa.jpg?1454962897[/img][hr][b][color=b8860b]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Conference Room --> Security employee lounge
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	Keystone summoned what manners he possessed, shaking Mrs. Queensguard's hand and intoning a quick [color=b8860b]"Thankya for your time, ma'am. We appreciate the personal touch you're takin' with this, really. Y'company's in good 'ands."[/color] He collected the paperwork and followed his boss/mentor out of the conference room. Yeah, he was really the smooth and savvy negotiator, rubbing elbows and blending in with the rich and powerful. Or not. Mostly not. He tried to shake off the somewhat awkward manner of his deprture, hoping that the woman would understand the newness of his position and not confuse it with a lack of competence. 

	The large man continued to follow Caesar through the complex until reaching their destination. He had expected to stop in one of their offices, and was surprised to see that the old man had chosen the lounge as their destination for serious, possibly game-changing discourse. It seemed a little odd at first, as they really never spent any time in here. Then he began microwaving the business card, and it started to make sense. 

	[color=b8860b]"Yeah, Boss. Heard clear n' loud, it is. I might be givin' it a wait 'till I'm someplace quiet to ring up neeps on a couple other matters, but I can press that personnel request to London right bloody now. You do what you've gotta. I'll 'old it down on this end, 'specially when we get our people flipped around."[/color]

	He too punched up a number on his phone, intent on getting a couple of his people on board asap. Of course, where we was calling, the day was ending rather then beginning. Certainly, they wouldn't hold it against him. And if they did, they could wrap their anus around a doorknob. Keystone was an Acting Director now. So there.