Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
They dropped Ash off at Philippa's and the Old Man at a run-down looking garage in the Castro. When they got to the office they were met by the sight of several cardboard boxes in different sizes, piled up in the lobby.
"I couldn't decipher the pizza stuff either, sorry Ilsa had to disturb. How did it go?" Ames came walking out of the guestroom, carrying a large holdall, bulging with clothes. "Chance?"
Chance was apparently caught up in staring at the boxes.
Ames was moving out.
"Chance! How did Ash's tryout go? Are they taking him?" She dropped the heavy holdall right at his feet.
"I don't think all of this will fit into your car", Chance replied absent-mindedly, his eyes still trained on her belongings.
"Oh, Ken's got a van."
"Ken?" Now Chance's eyes were trained on her.
"Met him when I went looking for a new place. We both wanted the same apartment. Things could have gotten ugly, but over a cup of coffee we decided having to pay only half of the rent wouldn't be a bad thing either… We're sharing now." Ames picked up one of the boxes and carried it over to the elevator.
"Have you had him checked by Guerrero?"
"Seriously, Chance. He's a nice guy."
"…said the woman whose husband wanted to kidnap her. I'm on it, Chance." Guerrero snapped open his smartphone. "What's Ken's last name?"
"Ask him yourself. He'll pick me up in a couple of minutes."
"Well, you'll have to postpone that, a new job's just come in." Chance took the box from her and sat it back on the floor. "Conference room, now."
"What, the pizza stuff? Is it that urgent?"
Chance didn't answer, he just turned and walked off. On his way to the conference room he picked up a newspaper. The front page was plastered with news about a scandal in Washington. A bigwig in the Department of Health, renowned scientist, honored for many ground breaking discoveries in the field of virology, was stumbling over an expense account affair. Apparently he had embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars and spent quite a bit of it on prostitutes and gambling. At least that's what a couple of newly discovered documents suggested… This would definitely cost him his pension and quite a bit of his reputation.
"Was that you?", Chance asked Guerrero.
Guerrero replied with one of his wolfish grins.
The newspaper wasn't only full with political stuff about the fallen from grace scientist, though. The second and third page were dominated by details regarding a bloody gang war that was currently raging in the Bay Area. SFPD was calling in special forces to get a hold of these extremely violent outbreaks, with little luck so far. The conflict was threatening the coming tourist season. Hotel accommodation booking was already slightly declining.
"Five people died in this car alone?" With growing terror Ilsa read the article that accompanied the gruesome picture of a burnt out vehicle by the roadside.
"Three victims so far were most likely innocent bystanders who just happened to be at the wrong place in the wrong time?" She put the newspaper down as Ames entered the conference room after finishing her short telephone conversation with her roommate.
"Ken totally understands that my job comes first", Ames said and slumped into one of the chairs, stretching out her long legs. Although it was rather cold today she was wearing a pretty short skirt.
"What kind of monsters carry a war into streets where innocent citizens are at risk? It's worse enough that they're killing each other." Memories of Belfast flashed up in Ilsa's mind and she unconsciously massaged the scar on her shoulder.
Guerrero looked at Chance and shrugged his shoulders. "You'll have to tell her…", said the gesture.
Chance nodded in resigned consent and decided to get done with it immediately. "Well, one of those monsters will be our future client…"
Ilsa's reaction was prompt and predictable: "NO WAY! Over my dead body we'll take on any of these people as a client!"
Guerrero tsked. "In this line of business we don't use that expression, boss."
Winston put a calming hand on Ilsa's. "This is about the Duquan Daniri case, isn't it?", he asked Chance.
Chance nodded and Winston sighed.
… … …
Meanwhile in Washington two prominent figures of the local drug trafficking scene were having a conversation not as private as they thought it was.
"He's skinny. Looks like a Laotian Rock Rat. Glasses. Meet him on the street, you'd overlook him. But man, can I tell you, that guy is dangerous. I would never mess with him, never. Not for any money in the world."
"And he's responsible for the scandal regarding the scientist in the Health Department? Why did he do that?"
"No idea. Don't want to know. Trust me, it's better to give him a wide berth. And by "wide" I mean "ocean size"."
Emma Barnes put down her headphones in surprise. This wire tap was a real eye-opener.
"Skinny guy brought down one of the admiralty's favorite scientists? You've got any idea whom they're talking about?", her colleague asked.
Emma did some quick thinking. She could tell him that the two thugs they were wiretapping were sure as hell talking about Guerrero. But from a strategic point of view… this could very well become quite valuable information, if used in the right moment…
"No idea", she told her colleague.
… … …
"Did you double-check this?" Innokentij tapped at a certain paragraph on the sheet of paper in front of him.
"I know a lie when I hear it. That guy wasn't lying. Not after that kind of torture. Nothing's better than pain to wipe a man's brain clean from all deceit…" The interrogation specialist allowed himself a satisfied smile.
"So it's true", Innokentij nodded. "Christopher Chance has got a son. Get me a photo."
… … …
"We had a client named Duquan Daniri. Grown up on the corners, slinging, he worked himself through the ranks till he became a major player's second Lieutenant. Then he met a girl and… wanted out", Winston explained to Ilsa.
She understood the appeal the case must have had for Chance: A young man who wanted to change his ways. Worked on Chance like a charm, every bloody time.
"I guess you couldn't tear down San Francisco's complete drug scene to protect him from his former employer?", she mused.
"We negotiated. First we let them know what we were capable of and then we negotiated." Winston took a deep breath. He hadn't liked it either. "Some monsters are too big to take down, Ilsa."
"What was the price?", she asked, although she already knew the answer.
"Chance's special protective services, should the need ever arise."
Ilsa buried her face in her hands and rubbed it. "We've got to adjust the file. There's no way I can explain this to Connie or the other board members."
Grinning, Guerrero swirled around in his chair and activated the computer screen, opening a case file with a variety of faux names to choose from and a couple of different background stories, addressed to the Marshall Pucci board of directors.
"Don't tell me you've saved this as a template", Ilsa groaned. "I don't want to know. I really don't."