Paper Soldiers [PM]

[Levi DAmico]

The tall man, Gino Valachi, stood like a bronze statue in the long, dark hallway of the abandoned apartments inside the very gullet of Harper Rock. To say he didn’t belong there would be an understatement of the finest degree. He wore a navy two-piece Herringbone suit paired with a crisp white shirt, a navy tie and polished brown shoes to match the cashmere Chesterfield coat; his attire spoke of money, the kind that falls out of bullet holes. The residents, which were scarce in number and body fat, had looked to him uneasily; a glint in their eyes suggesting both the temptation and mortal fear of ever crossing such an individual. They didn’t know who he was, that his name could be enough to strike fear into the hearts of most men, but his demeanour wore his reputation well enough for people to mark a wide birth around him. Gino Valachi, consiglieri and notorious hired hand to the Mafia families of both Sicily and America, didn’t belong in this rundown world, but he stood there regardless; tense and unmoving looking at one apartment door in particular, unsure of whether he was doing the best thing by being here at all.

For all his misdeeds through all of his years, Gino had come to regret nothing. He was always sure that he was making the right decision for the right people. It was his job to calculate the risks and the gains and determine an appropriate action based on the greatest profit to casualties ratio, and he was very good at it. Second-guesses, although not entirely rare in his process, were often struck off by the time of action, yet his hand faltered. He couldn’t bring himself to knock on that door, knowing whose life he would be destroying by doing so. In a selfish moment, he told himself to turn back and consider another option. For 25 years he had done what he could to keep her safe, to shield her from his life, though he could never hide her from it. He could answer her questions so delicately, but the silk of his words was so thin that it merely veiled the darkness behind it. She was aware of what he was, he was sure of it, and she probably hated him. There was little he could do about that and after all this time, all these long years of having abandoned her, his arrival at her doorstep would do nothing but bring forth a flood of tears and hate.

Sighing, Gino took a step back. He didn’t want to her hurt her. Not her, not his Isabeau. She might think he had abandoned her all these years, but she was always in his heart, on his mind and in the sights of a long-range camera lens. Surveillance had taught him a lot about her life and he was proud of the woman she had become, especially in his absence. She was strong, independent and skilled and had taken to the light. She was safe, albeit lonely, but that was a fair price to pay in his opinion. He would have liked to leave her in that state too, but there were no other options. He trusted very few people in this world and when that trust was challenged, he felt his circles close in further and to the point where it tied a fine noose around his neck. Gino had no other choice, no one else to turn to, and if he couldn’t trust his own flesh and blood, then that noose might as well hang him.

Approaching the door once more, he rapped his knuckles against it and waited.

[Isabeau Valachi]

"Eighty five... Eighty Six... Eighty Seven..." She counted as she slowly lifted herself up so that her chin was clear over the bar over and over again. Her body was coated in a light sheen of sweat because of her workout. She had already done her cardio and now it was her strength that she was working on. "Eighty eight..." She continued, her muscles in her arms clearly straining a little with the more lifts that she did. Her black tank top was tight around her torso and showed off her tight and toned stomach. Her skin was tan, which was saying something considering she had spent all her time in this town. She should have been as pale as some of the other nuts in this place.

"Eighty nine..." She said but at that time, she heard a soft rap on her door. Automatically, she eased herself to her feet after unlocking her ankles and straightening her legs. As she walked towards the door, she picked up one of her many guns that she had laying all over her house, some she had made, others she had stole, and others she had actually bought. It was already fully loaded, all her guns were, it was ready to fire at a moments notice. She wondered who it was because no one at all knew where she lived, not even her boss or any of the people that she worked with at the auto doc.

Quietly, she walked up to the door and while not totally blocking out the peep hole, she looked out. She sighed as she saw who it was, letting her head rest against the wood door before she turned the knob with her free hand and opened it up to the man on the other side. Her other hand still held the gun, but it was pointed at the floor. A sign that she wasn't shy about letting him know that she was armed, that she would use it if she had to (or wanted to) and that even knowing who it was, wasn't any guarantee that he was safe from her wrath. "Father..." She said with a mixture that said that she was both happy and annoyed to see him. He was her father so of course there was a love there she really didn't even want to bother thinking about, but he hadn't been there nearly enough... she had been with her mother her entire life.

Her mother had been dead for a while now and she wondered if he even knew, if he even cared. Perhaps she would tell him, perhaps she would wait to see if he asked first. She didn't know what she was going to do. She stepped back and to the side, opening the door wide so that she could allow him into the apartment that was all hers. Well hers and a Ferrari Testarossa that she was putting together and her bike that she used to take her places. "What brings you to this lovely little **** hole?" She asked with her voice dripping with sarcasm.

[Levi DAmico]

For a man of his age and experience, Gino had been wounded many times and had even faced surgery without aesthetic. Still, a single look into those pained blue eyes had brought him unfathomable anguish. A breath, barely an ounce lighter than a sigh, left his nostrils, but his stern, aloof mannerism persisted. He reminded himself that he was here on business; Isabeau had reminded him as well. Charcoal eyes moved slowly to the gun and then back to her. Gino was not afraid of being shot, not afraid of death, and while he was proud that she was able to defend herself, he hoped to God that she wouldn’t turn that gun on him. He had not come to this place light-heartedly. A car was parked on the street waiting for him, storing highly-trained killers all armed to the teeth as well. There were even scouts on the street around the vehicle and about six more inside the building with him. They stayed out of sight from the door and her window; he hadn’t wanted to alarm her or provoke her rage because Isabeau, so very much like him in his youth, was quick to anger.

When she stepped back and opened the door further, inviting him in, he hesitated. The need to apologise invaded his every cell, weighing him down, making it harder for his body to function normally. She could have shot him in that moment and he wouldn’t have been able to do a thing. Fortunately, Isabeau had neglected the trigger, but her subsequent words were whip-smart. Gino grumbled on the inside, his exterior still statuesque as he finally stepped into her apartment and made the effort to look around as if he didn’t know every square inch. She spoke as though she was blaming him for her predicament and it cut his patience and his pride. He might not have been there to hold her hand at every crossing, to wipe away every tear, to rejoice in her celebrations, but in just the same way he felt no responsibility for what her life had become. Isabeau was the master of her own destiny, just as he’d preferred it to be, so if she wasn’t satisfied with her life, she had to be the one to do something about it.

Oh the irony.

Gino halted once he was a foot inside the apartment and turned to greet her; mildly surprised and amused that she hadn’t taken a shot at him while his back was turned. It wouldn’t solve her problems, but it might save her from his request. He’d hoped he could have saved her, but he’d resolved his insecurities about that. She was, after all, the only one good enough to fit the role. Despite their differences, despite her gnawing rage for him having abandoned her, she was still his daughter and such loyalties were obliged. If she refused him, well, he could be very persuasive.

“Please close the door,” he told her. “I need to ask you something.”

[Isabeau Valachi]

As he stepped in past her, she watched him like a hawk, her finger relaxed but still rested against the trigger of the gun. It would be tempting to shoot him, but at the same time, he was all that she had left, so shooting him wasn't exactly top of her list. Plus, the whole gun thing was for people she didn't know, people coming to annoy her for whatever reason. She had heard some people even talking about vampires and other strange ****. That always made her roll her eyes and want to shoot them just for being morons. Get them out of the breeding pool.

At his request, her brow shot nearly to her hairline but she gave a single nod of her head and kicked the door shut with the boot of her heel - not willing to turn her back on then man. After a moment though, she safetied the gun in her hand, setting it down on a bench with many more like it - some in various stages of being taken apart or put together again - and moved over towards where she had a full size, nearly perfect (if not for the fact that it had no engine) Ferrari Testarossa in her living room. She leaned against the candy apple red car and slid her hands into the pockets of her carpenter pants. "Ask away..." she said in an almost dismissive tone.

It was rare that she saw her father much, if at all, and given the things he did, or at least the things she had an idea that he might be doing, she knew him coming here had to be something bad or at least something that would mean her having to watch her back even more so than she did now. Then again, she wasn't exactly a fragile flower, she was all for the 'let them come, I'll fill em full of lead' ideal. Though she didn't look it, she was curious as to what had brought the man out her to see her. All the things that come into a criminal's mind when someone from their past comes knocking at their door and telling them the line that he had just told her.

[Levi DAmico]

When she had shut the door and gotten herself comfortable, Gino stood before her with his hands behind his back, fingers laced loosely together. He had rehearsed this conversation so many times before the mirror; several scenarios having played out and all with their individual probabilities. The worst he had imagined was one where she would draw a weapon and he would have to put her down. The horror of just imagining the murder of his own child had given him nightmares for weeks, eased only by the thought that Isabeau might accept his proposal with little to no fuss at all. It was possible; his girl did have a taste for adventure after all. Gino had considered easing into the conversation, perhaps ask her how she was, how was life, but it would undoubtedly encourage a conversation that would deviate from his plans. There was little doubt that Isabeau would hold it against him that he didn’t ask, but there appeared to be a lot less risk in this particular strategy.

“I’ve come to you because I have a task requiring only the people I trust the most,” Gino began. Although he expected her to scoff and roll her eyes, he continued nonetheless in his trademark charcoal voice. “It isn’t particularly dangerous, but the risks are too high for me to just give this task to anyone. I need someone who will use their intelligence and initiative to get the job done in the best way. I need someone I can rely on to gather intel and create a relationship with a client. I also think that you, my daughter, would be best for this task.” He paused and watched her expressions. “Should I go on?”

[Isabeau Valachi]

Bo's brow lifted at her father for a moment before he began to speak, and what he started with just made her brow lift higher towards her hair line. In a way, she supposed she should be touched by the fact that he thought of her as someone that he could trust. But then, she was his daughter, and regardless of the fact that she was a liar, a thief and a few other things more often than not, she wouldn't break the trust of her father if she could help it. And most days, she could.

She almost laughed though as he started with 'It wasn't dangerous', chances are, it was, and yet, she liked that idea. She liked messing around with danger. It was one reason why she was a street racer. Why she ran cars well over the speed limit through busy streets, not caring at all if she caused or was in an accident. Then again, she had to admit that 'gathering intel' 9 times out of 10 weren't dangerous. At least not for her. A small smile came to her face when he said that he thought that she would be the best for the job. She wasn't particularly friendly with people, this would need her to be at least civil to someone. That would probably be the hardest part of the whole thing. Becoming 'friendly' enough to get the info that he needed.

It was when he asked if he should continue that she shifted a little, and then nodded. "Please, though you know me... friendly isn't usually the word associated with me." She said with a soft laugh.

[Levi DAmico]

“Well, the target I have in mind isn’t exactly friendly either,” Gino muttered straight off the bat before collecting himself.

Gino was supposed to be selling her this job after all and it was a job, he reminded himself. Regardless of the relationships he had with his spy and his client, Gino had to remain professional. Isabeau regarded herself as unfriendly, well, that wasn’t entirely a negative in this situation. As he’d told her so offhandedly, Levi – the client – was not exactly friendly either. In fact, if Isabeau was the sweet, bubbly type of personality, she probably wouldn’t have lasted two minutes with Levi. The man had no tolerance for giggly little school girls and Isabeau would fare a lot better with her steely and ruthless nature. Her determination and feisty attitude would secure her some rapport with the angry Italian. The only real danger with the scenario in Gino’s mind was that fire would meet fire in an explosion that would cripple the mission. If things were to get out of hand, the possibility of Isabeau and Levi ever getting close enough to share information would be over. Gino really had no other options at this point, he had to get Isabeau on board and under his ruling.

“Let me tell you more about the client then, if I shall,” Gino began again after a short intermittence. “I’m not sure if I ever mentioned the D’Amico family to you at all, but I worked very closely with them back when we were living in Verona. In particular, I worked with a man named William D’Amico. We built a lot of business together before the business collapsed and the D’Amicos moved to Boston. Still, we kept in touch and future work kept us connected. I was also put in contact with his son at this point; a young up-start looking to follow in his father’s footsteps. Maybe because he reminded me of you, I took something of a shine to him,” Gino admitted, averting his gaze ever so briefly. “I have always watched his movements, not just because I have to, and recently, he has started to worry me…”

Gino paused at last, taking a long breath. “A few months ago, he came here to Harper Rock. There was some business with the Canadians he had to take care of – it doesn’t matter all that much. However, ever since then, he has been stubborn to return to Boston and has been reported as being very difficult to contact. This has raised red flags with my current employers and although I have been tasked to watch him closer, I am having trouble following his every movement with my current responsibilities. I don’t have to tell you how things are in Sicily. Just know that they take precedence over this tiny matter. So, I will need you to follow him in my place and I need you to form a connection with him. The man knows me,” Gino said with a sigh. “So he won’t willingly give up information either way. For you to get to know him on a personal level would therefore provide great intel into his actions and motives. I’ll be willing to answer any of your questions as I can on this matter, you will be able to contact me at all times. So, Isabeau, are you interested?”

[Isabeau Valachi]

Bo's brow arched ever so slightly at her father's slip. The target wasn't friendly, oh this would be fun. For a split second, she wondered what would happen if she just killed the target, perhaps it would save them both the trouble, but then at the same time, if her father wanted someone dead, he would have others go for it, so it was clear that killing the target was out for now. As she relaxed a bit more, unfolding her arms from in front of her and bracing them back against the side of the car, she waited for him to continue and continue he did.

He started with more past than she was pleased to listen to, but she didn't interrupt him. Instead she listened to what he was offering her, the bits of information that he was pretty much drip feeding her at the moment. It was the mention of this William guy's son that her brow once again lifted and she began to see the puzzle pieces dropping into place. This son reminded her father of her. A small smirk flitted briefly over her face, something that was a rare sight, but when it did happen, it changed her whole look. She went from pent up ***** to a glowing beauty in that moment. But she preferred the *****. The ***** got things done. Beauty only lasted so long. She continued to listen though as her father continued to speak. The guy was here in Harper Rock, well there again was another puzzle piece into place. The more he spoke, the more he gave her, the more of the picture began to see.

So it all boiled down to that she would have to get close to him, or at least attempt to, and then with her closeness to him, she would have to get the information that he needed that this guy was hiding not only from her father but others in the life. Something that wasn't looked on too kindly. Hiding things from any mob was likely to get you killed. He told her that this guy reminded him of her, that he wasn't nice. To her, she read between the lines. He wasn't going to be an easy nut to crack. But crack she would try to do, if for nothing else than for the challenge of it. Could she get close enough to this guy to trust her with his secrets. Slowly, she ran her tongue along her lips and parted them to say something then closed them for a moment. Thinking before she spoke. Around her father that was always the best option.

"The challenge that you make him out to be is enough for me to be interested. That said, the more information on him you can give me, the more likely I can find a way in. Find something that I can monopolize on if at all possible. Just how much of his information do you know and can you share with me?"

[Levi DAmico]

Isabeau expressed her interest and Gino was grateful for that. He was expecting some kind of toing and froing to commence shortly after, a game of questions and answers; it was what he would have done in her position. As it was, however, Isabeau was taking her time. Her only question was vague, suggesting that, despite her stated eagerness, she was actually still unsure and considering the proposition. Nevertheless, Gino did his best to answer.

“I can only share what I know, of course,” he began. “Whether the information is accurate is simply not something I can provide assurance on, however.” Gino took a deep breath before continuing, knowing that he was taking a bigger step in revealing the identity of the target than he had ever taken in coming here. “His name is Levi D’Amico. He is currently taking up residence here in Harper Rock, though has no permanent address that I am aware of. The only places I have connected to him are places of business. I can give you the addresses of these if you need them, but they’re generally not places a civilian would need to make enquiries of. The logistics centre and consultancy firm deal directly with other businesses, and I don’t think I need to tell you what kind of businesses those are.”

Gino narrowed his eyes at the end of his sentence. Regardless of how much Isabeau suspected, he wouldn’t be quick to confirm those suspicions. It wasn’t wise to speak of such things as it was, but Gino was always so much more careful with his words than others. All Isabeau had to know was that there was something none-too-clean about the businesses Levi dealt with. If she was fishing for information, though, she would have to be far less vague with her questions. Gino could tell her everything he knew, unfortunately, he didn’t have the time it would take to do so. In fact, he had little more than a couple of hours before he would have to return to Italy. Gino reached inside his coat to retrieve an unmarked black cell phone and held it out to her.

“Here, I want you to have this,” he encouraged. “My contact details, plus a few of my associates are already listed inside. If you need to contact us about anything in particular, please only use this phone. I will call you on this number as well. I have limited time in this country as it is, so if there is anything you would like an immediate answer on, I suggest you ask it now. I won’t be within reach to answer any more of your questions until I am back on Italian soil. Do we understand each other?”

[Isabeau Valachi]

There was a spit second where Isy almost rolled her eyes at the man in front of her. Of course she expected only what he knew, to tell her stuff he didn't know would just be... well stupid. And he was far from that. She fought it though and just listened to what he had to tell her. He didn't know if the stuff he 'knew' was actually helpful or true, but anything would be better then going in completely blind. If he didn't know something, he would soon enough if she could get her own eyes on him, follow the man perhaps for a bit, pick up things. Perhaps even break into one of his jobs. His offer to give her the address what what she needed and she nodded to that. Of course when he mentioned that the random Joe wouldn't go asking around at places like that, she smirked at him. She never said anything about asking.

That aside, she didn't have to ask him, she knew, she knew he knew she knew, so regardless of her wanting to roll her eyes yet again, she nodded at the question to tell him that she did indeed know what it was that he was telling her. She could read between the lines.

When he reached into his pocket, she couldn't help but tense just a little bit. It was her many many years of being in her line of 'work' that had her always ready to flee or fight depending on the circumstances. It was only when she saw that it was a phone that Isabeau relaxed visibly and then pushed away from the car and moved to take it from her old man. She nodded and gave it a once over, looking through the contacts to read the numbers before she closed it and slipped it into the back pocket of her cargo pants.

He had to get back to Italy, and that she did roll her eyes at, but she didn't say anything other than "Yes father. I will see just how close I can get to this guy if I can find him. Those addresses will be most handy. If nothing else, I can watch them..." or build cameras to watch them for her so she could figure out if he did go to the places and if he did, how often he did. Then the meet should be as simple as bumping into the guy if there was no smoother option left to her. "I know you are a busy man, so if you have to go, go... though there has to be some other things you can give me to work on. You said you were put in contact with him, so I would assume you have seen him?" She asked, hoping that she could get a rough description of the man she was supposed to get close to. "Or a picture of some sort? The more you tell me now, the less likely it is that your daughter will get shot and killed for god knows what." She said with a wry smirk on her face.