South America - Brazil - Rio [Lucy Mills]

[Lucy Mills]

Recent events:
Having finished the gig for the agency and now with an open calender, Mills shuts the two roomer for the season and jumps on to the Emeraldo. She drives away in the early hours and leaves the run down town, leaving it for Rio de Janeiro. She really needs an upgrade of the systems on the boat. Rio is the best place to do that. And the best place to look for a new job opportunity. She sure missed the people from the last gig, but they all had to return to L.A. – unfinished business…

A couple of days later in the marina of Rio de Janeiro, the Emeraldo docks and the woman who used to be Milla Luganov lands.



South America, Brazil, Rio de Janeiro -
07:15 AM

Arriving to the bay at the usual docks, she coasts the cruiser past some smaller vessels and secures the boat, pays the harbour master and unfolds the map over the environs.
The new safe house on 112 rua são frasisco xavier should be prepared by her contact - who probably is watching her right now. She sneaks a peek over her shoulder up the hillside. She doesn´t see anyone, but that´s no guarantee she isn´t watched.

She unfolds the on-board laptop and hooks up to a public wi-fi and accesses her web account. After checking her last bank statement she checks for good deals on refurbishing ships. Her contact up on the hill is not for the ship, but for another job entirely. A job she´s not even sure she´ll take. Too risky.
On paper it´s simple. Just drive the car to a smash and grab. Three parties - no imminent danger. Yeah right! She can see at least five things that could screw up the operation, and that is not counting vehicular problems.

The locale for the job was smack in the middle between the Federales and two police stations. That in itself makes her doubt the sanity of the guy paying for the job.

After replying to a few loose ends from the L.A. job, she intercepts some messages using taglines as Brazil, jobs, ops, urgent, security, hostage, kidnapping, vice. Clicking the scan button on the screen, she leaves for a Stella Artois from the fridge in the lounge. Returning to the lap she checks the results....

Her cell rings and she flips it open. Stone age Nokia model, but built to last. "Hi, Sam. Long time no see." She checks her cell. Caller ID seems to be correct. "Fleetwood, right?" She checks the gas meter and puts down her beer. "Just need to fuel up. I´m not in Manaus at the moment, I´m about to do some work on the gem. So - yes, I´m up for some fishing. Hit me with those coords! The paint job can wait."

*****************

After fueling up, Mills checks the VAIO one last time Before leaving the marina. An email from a Morgan Simons. She hits the icon.
At this rate she´d have the money for the upgrades in no time.

"I guess I need to prioritize... Do the pick up. Analyse the risk of the new gig. But first, this message."

[Morgan Simons]

Sometimes you had to run, and sometimes you had to know when to stop. New York had not been a suitable vacation place, and Morgan did not need to question why. His work was there, as was his family, and all the problems attached to them. Upstate had not been much of a relief either - too many memories. So he had given up, and decided to focus on solving the problem that plagued him.

Morgan's daughter, Janice, had nearly been killed four months earlier. The crime had had nothing to do with Morgan, but Janice had taken the opportunity to push him away, and had refused to tell him anything about what had happened. Instead, she had run to her mother, Morgan's ex-wife. The two of them had kept him at arm's length since January, and Morgan was tired of it. So he had gone through the police reports himself.

It did not take a technological genius to figure out what had gone on, but Morgan happened to be one anyway. His daughter had been moonlighting as a stripper, and the club owner had decided to kidnap and ransom her. The attempt had been foiled by two men, one who remained unidentified and one who was a private investigator. Morgan wanted more information on both of those men. And he wanted to make sure the club owner paid for what he had tried to do.

He had been looking for someone to do the legwork. As the CEO of a major company, he lacked the time to do an in-depth investigation himself. He had sent an email to an old contact of his, asking for help investigating what had happened to Janice and the men involved. So far, there had been no response.

Morgan glanced at the clock. It was still early - he had been awake before the sun rose, an unfortunate effect of his insomnia. He would give his contact a day to respond before trying other venues.

Meanwhile, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, beckoning to sleep that would not come.

#nosignature#

[Lucy Mills]

To: Breeze
From: Morgan Simons

Regarding Club Apocalypse incident. Two subjects. Club owner Robert Hubert, suspected for abducting a young woman working as a Neophyte in the bar and claiming a finders fee. The two subjects are unknowns. One is wearing a PI badge most likely a fake.

Need someone to find these subjects, identify their affiliation. Additionally, pay Robert Hubert a visit and set him straight.


Attached files: C_Apoc.jpeg, R_Hubert.jprg, Sub_1, Sub_2, Nephythe.jpeg

DECRYPTION C O M P L E T E


Lucy Mills checks the attachements. The girl looks cute. That's usually what it takes. To get in trouble that is.

She thinks back on the Manaus job. Too many new acquaintances and too short prep time. Much like this Rio gig. She could let the Emeraldo stay here in the marina and let LaHabra and Fox fix her up as thanks for using her up the Rio Negro. That Fleetwood dude could get his packages himself. He did have the coords, didn't he?

She makes one of those split decisions to help her old friend Simons.

To:Morgan Simons
From: Breeze

Love to come to New York. Do you still have that apartment on Lexington avenue?
/B

Sending the reply, she calls up Marcus on her cell. "Habs, it's Mills. Still want the boat? I'm heading up to the Big Apple. I'll leave her in the marina and pay the HM for a month. And one more thing, she needs a paint job. Great. I call you when I get there. No, nothing serious. You to."
She hangs up and refreshes her browser.

[Morgan Simons]

A soft ping pulled Morgan out of his thoughts. He had left his email client open, and it had just notified him of a new message. Being who he was, his email was heavily secured, and he had no fear of anyone reading it. He lived alone, though his technology came home with him. The computers at his various residences were as secure as the ones in his workplace. Possibly more so.

Besides, there was nothing really untoward in his message. Any concerned father would want to know who had been dealing with their daughter, even if the people in question had rescued her. He might owe them thanks. As for the club owner… that was another matter. He would learn the reason why even the most daring of criminals seldom crossed the Simons family.

Sitting up, Morgan put on his glasses and read the email. Excellent. She was one of the best at her job that he knew of, though he knew little about her personally. It was better that way, he felt. What he needed to know was that she would do her job well, and he knew that from the brief acquaintanceship they had formed in the past.

Considering the reply for a moment, he sat with his hands poised above the keyboard, in perfect typing form, of course. One could not be a technological genius and not know how to type. It was bad press.

After a bit of time typing, he sat back again and viewed the response before sending it.

To: Breeze
From: Morgan Simons

Perfect. I'll cover your expenses. The Lexington apartment is still there, recently renovated. You're welcome to use it. Let me know what else you'll need and I'll have it all set up by the time you arrive.

Morgan

Satisfied, he sent the message and waited, turning to watch the sun come up in the windows around him.

#nosignature#

[Lucy Mills]

Mills smiled at the reply. She started to pack her things in an unmarked khaki holdall. She hot swapped a disk to her VAIO, making sure there was nothing incriminating on it when she flew back to the US.

After 9/11 she always traveled unarmed. Should the need arise, she´d use her leather belt as a weapon. The buckle had the extra sting she´d need if trouble arose.

The onboard weaponry, she put in a waterproof sack and fastened to the anchor and let it sink to the bottom.

Lucy put on a light, tanned leather jacket and picked up the holdall with two sets of clean clothes and her VAIO. The last time she had crossed paths with Simons it had been winter. The place had been in a deserted subway station below the Lexington apartment.
During a drug sweep, the NY ESU had taken out an MS-13 group. She had ended up in a parking garage as snipers had taken out the gang members. Simons had debriefed her and she had moved on to L.A. to work with LaHabra and Kathryn Petersen.

Simons had ended up with the uncovering of a Wal-Mart heist to the store above the parking garage. Apparently the MS-13 had been a diversion from the theft of the store´s Christmas earnings. By chance, Mills had stepped on that snake and come out of it alive.

All this went through Lucy´s mind as she rode a taxi to the airport. She picked the next flight to LaGuardia. Using her UN-pass she passed customs and boarded. She spent the flight trying to get some sleep, not much else to do when traveling. She failed miserably as the man next to her couldn´t stop tapping on his laptop. She faked it as best as he could, to avoid having to communicate with him.

Exiting the flight last, she hailed a yellow cab and asked the driver to take her to 2012 Lexington Avenue. On RFK Bridge, she called Simons to let him know she was in town. The time was close to eight in the evening and the street lights had just switched on.

[Lucy Mills]

Moving the thread on to Manhattan .