Snippet #2667059

The process of extracting information hadn't taken any special effort. Not when the ever blooming rose Lulu had snared their target with her hooked thorns, their generally hassle free getaway, courtesy of Dami's charismatic charms, or now, when he was copying the information onto his personal database. Once he had finished this painless process, Montana placed the chip into a small cover, one he closed with an audible click, then into the bigger plastic back. Blackout material. Label? Classified. Naturally.

Their cover to obtain this small but important piece of a larger puzzle was the kind that would bring such a trio together at night. Drinking. Mid Ballers with a little angst to work out underneath crystal chandeliers. A cover that required next to no prep, where the explanations could be lies because lies flow plenty when liquor hits the system.

Truthfully, their night at the Roxemburg had involved less drinking and more espionage. Less Alcohol, more Sodium Pentothal. With an end game that could put something a little deadlier then a hangover in ones head, but, they were professionals. Their seamless fabric of teamwork was strong when taunt, and they had gotten back to SCION in time for breakfast.

Speaking of breakfast, one of the three he wished to speak to had feeding habits that could leave him unavailable for the next hour or so. Miss Botrelle and the Young Valentine could be contact later.

Montana ran his thumb across the screen of his phone, contacting one,

"Mr Moore, I'll need you in for debriefing at your earliest convenience."