[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/14/62/5b/14625bbb4d7534f03ccad7fe0cff5d07.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Just outside of Queensguard Private Airfield [hr][hr][/center] Motorcade. Security would be high and tight. Though Caesar apparently saw nothing in the way of security cameras, receivers, transmitters, etc., or anything in the way of countermeasures and/or infrastructure relating to intrusion repellent and/or client notification, he was confident that they were present. Don't stray too close to the high, brick wall, find a good vantage, see what you could see before attempting to venture in. The line of vehicles exiting the hangar seemed pretty standard escort for a connected and/or moneyed VIP; it only made sense that they would be moving to intercept a recently landed private plane. Of course, it was just a little odd that the people arriving on the private plane did not disembark until the land vehicles got into formation. That was professional security protocol, possibly Agency. It didn't directly tie into his reason for being there, but lately, the details seemed to be as important as anything else. Caesar tapped a widget on his satellite phone, prompting simultaneous video recording and company intranet upload. Continuing the recording on the wider view, he used pressed his thumb and forefinger to the screen, spreading them apart to utilize the zoom feature. If your own eyes aren't sharp enough, technology will find a way. While viewing what he hoped would be in interesting piece of live footage, Caesar voiced a suggestion to Cecily. [color=orangered]"This water. Might be a way in."[/color] He kept his face neutral, but a tinge of emotion showed just underneath the surface as he continued, [color=orangered]"Reservoir. Not a lot of water features in an airport. If I wanted to drown someone, that would be the place."[/color] Caesar risked a glance over to where the water was draining out, into public domain. His eyes went to Cecily, and back to the water. The investigator in him realized that they could collect samples without having to set foot onto the private property. The father in him was adamant about wanting to find the person responsible and doing gruesome things to their still-living flesh. The latter might involve going inside anyway. If they could fit through the drainage system. A flash of heightened awareness spiked into him. This looked just a bit like a setup. If not a setup, a place where loose ends might be found and dealt with. Instinctively, he palmed one of his personal knives, hiding the length of it up his sleeve and holding onto the pommel with his pinky and ring finger. From any distance, it was a nonchalant hanging on one's arm beside himself, unless they chose to press the issue. For now, keep recording. Even if they both got shot and/or kidnapped, the footage was already in company hands. [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: Gym -> Security Hub [hr][hr][/center] The workout was brutal. Keystone had insisted upon it. Not that he thought that it would actually make these people stronger overnight. Quite the opposite, most likely. If they came in at all tomorrow, they would come in tired and sore. Nope, this was all about introducing himself to the staff in the most aggressive manner possible. They had problem employees. Possibly lazy and disloyal employees, even. Putting the brunt of them not on other duties through the gauntlet may very well weed out the undesirables. Tomorrow, he would put the less able with decent attitudes on lighter duty. Others, well... Keystone could tell who the ones were who came in here to do a job. He met a few of them back in Central. They would be key personnel in acclimating his people from London and Caesar's (actually Alicia's) people from Seattle to how things were done here. The broad man was still a newcomer. He knew a lot about the company, but not specifics on the Justice, California branch. West coast United States was strange, sometimes. Fewer leggy blonde women than the movies suggested. He unlocked the doors to the company gym and opened the doors wide, allowing any assembled to bear witness to the carnage of human fatigue and sweat, mixed with the occasional minor blunt trauma. Luckily, the man whom he threatened sandpapering his rectum with the treadmill was able to limp out, tenderer bits undamaged but pride bruised nonetheless. Keystone gave small words of encouragement, in his own way. The occasional [color=b8860b]"Yeah, ice that, oi?"[/color] and [color=b8860b]"Atta boy, Butch."[/color], colored with growls of distaste for the ones he was fairly certain wouldn't make it. After the staff was capable of exiting the premises, and did, Keystone returned to the Hub. He hit the locker room, getting a quick rinse-off in, and changed into fresh clothes. He rearmed himself fully, as if for work; Desert Eagle and knuckle dusters, extra clips and utility knife. Regarding his pistol carefully, he was pleased that his employer chose to outfit him with something as massive as the iconic American fifty-caliber. He had worked with other weapons in the past that just seemed [i]smaller[/i] in his hands. This powerhouse firearm was really more for show and intimidation than a prolonged gunfight. He didn't intend to really use it, if at all necessary. But it was useful to have around. But [i]man[/i], the holes it would make in things. Keystone stepped back into the Hub and began to look through the paperwork that Elisabeth Queensguard had given them. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off what promised to be a growing headache, and stopped one of the staffers walking past. [color=b8860b]"Ey you... Digital copies, two minutes. Bloody run."[/color] In the (hopefully) two minutes it would take to get that accomplished and get the hardcopy returned, Keystone struck up a conversation with the man that addressed him earlier; the guy who alerted him to the less than exuberant status of many of the employees present. [color=b8860b]"Good job there, yeah? Hey, there a pub or a boozer nearabouts? Someplace quiet without cameras, a bounder can grab a pint without drawin' too many eyes?"[/color]