The Harp Incident-04

We entered the Carrano residence under the guise of being Treasury agents. Treasury, of course, because that's where the Secret Service resides and we like to abuse their wide powers- any threat against the President of the United States goes to them, and they check it out. Handy shit for when we need a go-to cover that will work on Fridge Logic.

Jan and Aaron, doing their best Fed impression, handled face contact; I monitored from around the corner, doing the reading-a-thing-while-on-a-bench routine and Eric as the silent and implied threat of force. Matt, having real-time taps on hand, fed Jan and Aaron information as they needed it.

"I've identified the subject. He's in a side room with our Squid friend." Matt said into my ear, "It looks like Mr. Squid is keeping him calm, as he's buying into the ruse."

"Good." I said, "Jan, Aaron- keep the brother on tilt; Eric, mind the side room."

Jan and Aaron work well doing Good Cop/Bad Cop, and the fact that the businessman Carrano has dodgy financials as well as political arrangements make a Treasury visit viable as a cover. While Aaron and Jan kept the man and his staff on hand busy attempting to avoid arrest, Eric--under Matt's direction--scanned the place and did his best Suited Thug work.

"Squid's slipping subject out a window." Matt said.

"I'm on it. Finish the show, and let the fish go." I said, and I caught the subject and Squid Carrano coming out a side entrance. "Got them; fixing."

"Tagged." Matt said as they made their way to a parked car down the block, "So long as we have access to the grid, we have tracking."

Jan, Aaron, and Eric ended their show and left without incident. It wouldn't be until a few hours passed that they'd get any idea that they'd been had.

"Squid's calling his brother." Matt said, "Brother knows what's up with the subject. File appended."

"I'll tail them first." I said, and rolled after them as they drove away. Eric and I traded off several times as they made their way to one of the local airports to board a private jet. One check later: "They're for Las Vegas."

"Stall them. We need to buy time and get ahead." I said, "Then call the caretaker and get going. Everyone to the tarmac."