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"I'll tell you what we need you for, Mr. Dohammond," Archie began, almost appearing from nowhere as he reentered the flat with a Costa Coffee coffee carrier, containing three tall cups of something hot and coffee smelling - which, naturally, was almost certainly coffee. "You're the primary distraction, believe it or not. We've been instructed to come up with a rough plan, and leave it to you three for finishing, but I don't doubt that most of this will be down to the three of us with real experience in the field."
"I second that - and we don't agree frequently." Dowle said without looking up from his phone.
"Yes. Our plan is not a complicated one, as far as these sorts of affairs usually go - Ms. Kinney will be in charge of producing the intelligence we need, once she has access to the secure console in Johannes Markand's private chambers. We have some information regarding the LS3 OS and port specifications for you, in relation to that point. You will gain access to his quarters when Ms. Lefevre begins playing her solo, and our host starts trying to appear cultured by knowing everything about the piece - speaking of which, you'll be playing Bach's Cello Suite number 1 in G Major, after which you'll join the quartet Mr Markand has already hired after their cellist suddenly falls ill." Archie set the coffee down on the kitchen table, and smiled at the crew broadly.
"And you, my good sir, will be going as a guest, with our lovely María. She shall be posing as the Spanish envoy to the United Kingdom, and you as our own diplomat. The pair of you are to engage the host in lively, cultured conversation, both whilst Ms. Lefevre plays and for as long as possible thereafter, to give Ms. Kinney the time she needs to spoof the console's hard drive or... whatever it is she needs to do."
"Sí. The idea is that men like Johannes Markand are basically attention whores for the upper class. When he finds out that somebody brought a pair of ambassadors to his party as plus 1s, he won't leave us alone until we're leaving ourselves." María confirmed, entering the room from the bathroom, her hair still wet, snaking darkly over her shoulders.
"Not that the dog would've left you alone if you weren't a Communist Princess, sweet pea." Dowle looked her up and down briefly and discreetly.
"You, stop that," Archie scowled at Dowle. "and you... keep doing what you're doing." He nodded to María, who huffed slightly, grabbed her coffee, and headed back to her room.
"Well? What do you all think?"
"I second that - and we don't agree frequently." Dowle said without looking up from his phone.
"Yes. Our plan is not a complicated one, as far as these sorts of affairs usually go - Ms. Kinney will be in charge of producing the intelligence we need, once she has access to the secure console in Johannes Markand's private chambers. We have some information regarding the LS3 OS and port specifications for you, in relation to that point. You will gain access to his quarters when Ms. Lefevre begins playing her solo, and our host starts trying to appear cultured by knowing everything about the piece - speaking of which, you'll be playing Bach's Cello Suite number 1 in G Major, after which you'll join the quartet Mr Markand has already hired after their cellist suddenly falls ill." Archie set the coffee down on the kitchen table, and smiled at the crew broadly.
"And you, my good sir, will be going as a guest, with our lovely María. She shall be posing as the Spanish envoy to the United Kingdom, and you as our own diplomat. The pair of you are to engage the host in lively, cultured conversation, both whilst Ms. Lefevre plays and for as long as possible thereafter, to give Ms. Kinney the time she needs to spoof the console's hard drive or... whatever it is she needs to do."
"Sí. The idea is that men like Johannes Markand are basically attention whores for the upper class. When he finds out that somebody brought a pair of ambassadors to his party as plus 1s, he won't leave us alone until we're leaving ourselves." María confirmed, entering the room from the bathroom, her hair still wet, snaking darkly over her shoulders.
"Not that the dog would've left you alone if you weren't a Communist Princess, sweet pea." Dowle looked her up and down briefly and discreetly.
"You, stop that," Archie scowled at Dowle. "and you... keep doing what you're doing." He nodded to María, who huffed slightly, grabbed her coffee, and headed back to her room.
"Well? What do you all think?"