Nyxella
TokyoPewPew
Tlaloc
Vera’s arrival at the bar counter did little to assure Shay that things were going to work out, and for all he knew, she was fixing to tear into him for his attitude. Part of him wished to just do away with it all and start back before Vera had her episode and the days that followed, but war had taught Shay all too well that you were forced to live with whatever the day brought, and the mistakes with it. As she attempted to speak, the sudden appearance of John and Grant came in like an unwanted draft that designed to carry them away into that back office, a place Shay seldom enjoyed venturing. Sighing as he topped up his tumbler again with the bourbon, Shay left a pound note on the counter behind him, despite the arrangement the Roughers had with Frankie regarding the consumption of his wares.
The office was kept surprisingly tidy, and stuffy, for the back of a tavern, and the Wallis brothers managed to give off the impression of bank owners whenever it came to running the administrative aspect of the gang, and while the Irishman understood there were financial and business connections to manage in a way similar to what legitimate businesses did. It seemed both tedious and mind-numbingly boring, and it was part of why Shay had no real aspirations for control and power. He listened as Vera and Sam recounted their observations, and by the time eyes fell upon him, Shay was a quarter through his tumbler. He let the burn sit for a few seconds before allowing himself to speak. He looked back at Grant, level gazed and disinterested.
“It isn’t a fortified compound, and the staff are common folk who probably never touched a gun in their lives. Some might be veterans, but I doubt they’re expecting intruders. Simple locks, from what I gathered. Mansion is something of a maze; I’ll draw up a map from memory from the areas I’ve seen. The von Goethes are going to be vacationing in Greece in a few days, end of the week latest. It feels like every other corridor in the residence has some form of valuables. Albert von Goethe is quite the collector. Other than that, Vera was the one to locate the objective. There isn’t much more to say. It probably will not be hard to infiltrate, grab the painting, and go.” Shay said, taking back another drink before cradling it in his hands.
“Excellent.” Grant said almost immediately after, regarding the siblings and Shay with a series of quick nods, it was clear his mind was going a mile a minute. “Okay, Shay, do that. Here.” He said, passing over a notepad and a pencil. “Take your time, recall what you can, and illustrate a map for us. In the meanwhile, John and I will begin preparations. Good work, the three of you. Now go take the night off. You earned a breather.” Grant said, turning to speak with John Kirby, who was already digging through the filing cabinet for something.
Shay, Vera, and Sam all milled out of the room in an orderly fashion, Shay carrying his drink in one hand and the paper and pencil in the other. His head was already feeling groggy from the booze. It couldn’t come along quicker.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” Sam said, grasping Shay by the shoulders and giving Vera a nod before he went off to join Eli at a table. Shay walked listlessly to an empty booth, sliding in one side and setting the materials down gingerly. “You wanted to say something?” he asked after Vera sat across from him. He began to work the pencil across the paper, making rudimentary geometric shapes as he thought about the details loosely.
The office was kept surprisingly tidy, and stuffy, for the back of a tavern, and the Wallis brothers managed to give off the impression of bank owners whenever it came to running the administrative aspect of the gang, and while the Irishman understood there were financial and business connections to manage in a way similar to what legitimate businesses did. It seemed both tedious and mind-numbingly boring, and it was part of why Shay had no real aspirations for control and power. He listened as Vera and Sam recounted their observations, and by the time eyes fell upon him, Shay was a quarter through his tumbler. He let the burn sit for a few seconds before allowing himself to speak. He looked back at Grant, level gazed and disinterested.
“It isn’t a fortified compound, and the staff are common folk who probably never touched a gun in their lives. Some might be veterans, but I doubt they’re expecting intruders. Simple locks, from what I gathered. Mansion is something of a maze; I’ll draw up a map from memory from the areas I’ve seen. The von Goethes are going to be vacationing in Greece in a few days, end of the week latest. It feels like every other corridor in the residence has some form of valuables. Albert von Goethe is quite the collector. Other than that, Vera was the one to locate the objective. There isn’t much more to say. It probably will not be hard to infiltrate, grab the painting, and go.” Shay said, taking back another drink before cradling it in his hands.
“Excellent.” Grant said almost immediately after, regarding the siblings and Shay with a series of quick nods, it was clear his mind was going a mile a minute. “Okay, Shay, do that. Here.” He said, passing over a notepad and a pencil. “Take your time, recall what you can, and illustrate a map for us. In the meanwhile, John and I will begin preparations. Good work, the three of you. Now go take the night off. You earned a breather.” Grant said, turning to speak with John Kirby, who was already digging through the filing cabinet for something.
Shay, Vera, and Sam all milled out of the room in an orderly fashion, Shay carrying his drink in one hand and the paper and pencil in the other. His head was already feeling groggy from the booze. It couldn’t come along quicker.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” Sam said, grasping Shay by the shoulders and giving Vera a nod before he went off to join Eli at a table. Shay walked listlessly to an empty booth, sliding in one side and setting the materials down gingerly. “You wanted to say something?” he asked after Vera sat across from him. He began to work the pencil across the paper, making rudimentary geometric shapes as he thought about the details loosely.