Goemon swirled the golden liquid within it's crystal home for a moment, mulling over Galina's questions while simultaneously bemoaning the lack of good sake. The price of the mission, perhaps, the only bottle he knew of on the ship being carried by his boss.
You get the glamorous job, Goemon. Neither me nor Daisuke will get to enjoy the kind of dinner you will.
Said by the man likely sipping happily from a wooden cup in the lower levels. Who had the truly glamorous job, one had to wonder?
"He is... an overseer of types, from what I've learned. He advises the engineers and mechanics of the ship, but mostly enjoys a retirement on the waves." He brought the glass to his lips, allowing just the smallest of sips to grace his tongue. Acceptable, barely. "Zachary Selvin, son of Joshua Slevin and Natasha Islava... who had grown up in Russia before finding love in America."
He paused for a moment to judge what -if any- reaction that might bring. She had likely guessed as much herself, but any opportunity to test the warnings of his boss should be taken as they arose. A master actress, able to keep any truth from marring whichever mask she chose to wear. Takahiro could wax eloquent when he was excited, but the words seemed quite true. Goemon could read nothing more than courteous curiosity, maybe the slightest undercurrent of mistrust. She remained just distant enough to not be drawn in, and it seemed dangerous to try and test that theory. Galina Demidova was a spy, a good spy, one who had gotten the better of Takahiro Souma, of all people. They spoke as equals, but Goemon felt himself standing lower than the sweetly smiling lady beside him. The conversation stayed firmly upon business, her voice singing questions as if to test for falsehood.
She was good... she was exceptional. But Goemon held the advantage, if only slightly. As long as he played safe and spoke well, he would succeed.
"He worked as an overseer on a number of warships during his younger years, and moved to teaching military engineers for some time before retiring. Few people know more about American warships than he does, and none of them are as willing to leave a country he has grown to tire of."
"Unfortunately for me, he wishes to leave for his mother's homeland, and was polite but dismissive of my appeals. For someone who thought they had found the perfect teacher to help their homeland... it was a somewhat sobering conversation."
He allowed a little more than a drop of the wine to pass his lips this time, dropping his gaze for a moment. It was a hard thing to admit failure, worse when it was to someone not of your own country. Even though Takahiro had already laid the groundwork, even though Selvin had already been charmed by the older spy's appeal days before, Goemon still had to paint himself as a spy who got too excited by the sight of a small opportunity, and ruined it for himself.
Just having to play that part before Galina, brought genuine embarrassment into his voice.
"But yes-" He met her eyes again, composed once more as questions remained to be answered. "I have a comrade who will be approaching the Empress with a small vessel of his own. There should be a quiet place at night, where he can offer you the boat so that you may slip away with Selvin."
He sampled a bit more of the food before him, laying his fork neatly to the side after he had tasted enough. It was good, quite good, but not of his country. Part of him longed for simple rice and fresh-caught fish, or even a haunch of meat swindled from a naive merchant. It was the little things, the things you had to work for, that tasted so sweet to his pallet. Glamor and decadence had it's own appeal, but tasted too much like the very people he and his brothers had made play of to be truly enjoyed.
"My comrade will board this boat of course." That little fact seemed too blatant to risk glossing over. "Or if you want to hold him on board until you reach land. At this point... the only way I can salvage anything is to ask your help. So whatever I can do to that effect, I will."