"Sloppy work. If we're not careful we might have just blown this entire investment."
A group of thirty-five was arranged around an oblong table, their seats occupied by large virtual screens. Each screen displayed a solitary human figure, their defining features obscured by top-of-the-line identity obfuscation software. Every figure sat behind a desk of their own, marked only by a placard bearing a number embossed on a brass plate. Not the most original identifiers, but the method had worked for countless decades, and nobody was really in any position to complain. The figure marked "6" was the first to speak. His accent was modulated to sound more neutral, but his fellow numbered associates had picked up a slight Yorkshire truncation.
The figure marked "1" was next to speak. "Sloppy? You're damn right it was sloppy! What were you thinking, 8?" Notably agitated, 1 shifted forward in his seat, his face occupying the entirety of his screen. "And screw the investment, the entire project is in jeopardy thanks to this blundering frog! Honestly, a truck? A goddamned truck for Christ's sake? With Coalition livery plastered all over the side? There were witnesses, cameras, hell I found footage online before you even let us know the job was done! And look at this!" 1 slapped a newspaper onto his camera lens. Many unsettled murmurs could be heard from various other screens.
"The situation is under control" replied 8. "The target was eliminated, there are witnesses who can confirm the accidental nature of the incident, and Coalition public opinion is flagging. All without any unnecessary casualties. I think that is the hallmark of a job well done, wouldn't you say?"
"I am inclined to agree with 1 on this, 8," 5 interjected, "the target was not, as you say, 'eliminated', your agent attracted the attention of the entirety of the Arc de Triomphe, and worst of all, the target has recourse! I don't need to tell you-"
"How deep you're in if your little stunt backfires!" The newspaper withdrew to its new home on 1's armrest. "You say the target won't be any more trouble. How can you be so sure of that? And you say arrogance is a uniquely American trait. Why provoke the colonies like this, and so early? I thought we were saving that for-"
"1, please, I think we have a unique opportunity here." 7 had become increasingly more vocal as the 14th Fight drew closer. Now he seemed to have something to say in almost every meeting, usually an appeasement of some sort. "With the right measures, we can work this to an even greater advantage. Instead of simply eliminating one of the pieces, why not replace it with something more… erm… familiar?"
"And what piece, pray tell, would that be?" 1's frustration seemed to give way to a cautious curiosity.
"Well, ah, we could replace Lor... Ah, the target, with one of those wild cards we've been discussing. Keep it occupied for the duration, which would leave only two free agents running around to muck things up!" An awkward silence fell over the group, and 7 shifted in his seat. 7's lack of finesse had that effect on his more experienced associates.
"That's… actually quite clever, 7" 6 finally cut the tension. "And with one out of the way, our resources can be devoted to keeping tabs on the two remaining. There is even the possibility of the third being eliminated in the course of the competition. It's like you planned this from the start, you cheeky bastard." The group murmured in amused approval.
"Alright, enough, 6. I can see this isn't as hopeless as I had made it out to be. You're in the clear, 8. For now. But remember, we can replace you just as easily, and with less of a public spectacle. Is that clear?" 8 simply sat back with a smug grin. "Okay then, vote on playing the wild card is open." The screens lit blue for a second, and almost immediately all had faded to green. "Well, that settles it. Congratulations, 7, you pulled 8's ass out of the fire. We'll all be watching closely now. The good news is the rest of the operation is proceeding as discussed. We will convene again at the halfway mark, or if one of you has something critical to report. Adjourned."
1's screen was the first to go dark, followed by 6 and 8. The others quickly followed suit, leaving only 7 sitting behind his desk in a small office. The man sat short in his seat, visibly rotund and balding. He plucked the placard from the desk's surface, stuffed it in a diplomatic briefcase, and hurried out the door.