"It doesn't look like much." Tiss crossed her arms, for once, phone vanishing up her sleeve. "I can't find anything online about it." That proved a slight surprise, as Groza usually counted on Ots-12 to find things she could not. Although the other assault rifle freely admitted she wasn't much of a wizard with technology and more of a dabbler in the dark underbelly of the online, so perhaps it made sense, given the type of establishment at hand.
"Supposedly, they have Dolls there." Tiss made a noise of disgust, phone reappearing, frantically tapping at the screen. "And it is frequented by Soviet soldiers in town." Privately, Groza suspected there was a reason for all of the above conditions, but she would save her speculation for later. "Having dealt with his regular menaces, I found a rather odd friend in a bartender, and his implications suggest we are dealing with a relatively new establishment."
PP-2000 checked her weapon, while Tiss stowed her phone once more, muttering obscenities in Russian. The SMG Doll ignored them pointedly, eyes on Groza. "What are we doing?"
A good question, one that Groza couldn't say she possessed a good answer for. Given the limited information she couldn't really say she had a good plan in mind for how to tackle the situation, as most of the usual plans required more knowledge. "For now, I just want to assess the situation, and verify the rumors. We are not going to start shooting." They couldn't, not without orders, or a threat to their life. An odd quirk of their programming, that she couldn't shoot someone, but could use physical violence when, and how, she pleased. As they spoke a pair of soldiers slipped out of a side door on the building in question, rejoining the flow of traffic without so much as a side glance.
"Understood." Straightening off the wall, Tiss, running the action on her weapon. "Should I?" Groza considered for a brief moment. While she'd appreciate information, she didn't care to antagonize more soldiers.
"No. For now we'll wait." Tapping her fingers, the squad leader glanced between them. "Let me do the talking. Just look annoyed, keep your guns out." At least a year since the last time she needed to bluff in such a way, but Groza trusted herself to pull it off.
PP-2000 gulped. "We're not going to…" The question hung in the air, and Groza turned away, hiding her smile.
"We'll see." She led the way into the foot traffic letting presence and authority push people out of her way, before slipping down the alley the soldiers emerged from. As she did, a figure stepped out of the door, well-muscled and wearing a look between annoyance and dislike.
"Who are you?" Surprisingly, the voice didn't match the appearance, coming across as relatively well mannered.
"Groza." She met the stare, almost daring the six and a half feet of to stop her. His eyes flickered towards the other two. "Are you taking appointments or not?"
A grunt, and a hard look. "Just you." She made a half motion, and nodded. "Follow."
Without a word, Groza followed, taking careful note of everything she could, including the four knives on the man's body, and the handgun stuffed into the back of his belt. By her estimation he probably didn't know how to use it. PP-2000 and OTs-12 caught her eye as she turned for the door, nodding and slipping back away. The door clicked with an electronic lock as they stepped inside.
"A Miss Groza." The bouncer spoke to a man sitting behind a desk, tapping at a computer.
Said man looked up, giving her a once over, and nodded. Unlike many others, his gaze carried no sexual undertone, and Groza tried to avoid squirming under it. "Payment." Although she hated doing it, Groza tossed a wad of cash on the table, doing her best to mask the disgust at the greed that flared in his eyes. "Options are here." He passed her a tablet, with images on it. Groza's eyes flashed across the pictures, comparing them to known Doll models in her head. Most of them were human, and she made a note to…deal with… this individual at a later time. However, on the third page, a profile caught her eye, and she tapped it, the mental comparisons running at top speed. "Ah! Yes. I'm afraid if you want-" Groza threw more cash at him, and the tone changes literally mid word. "Yes, ahem. I will show you to a room, and let them know you are waiting."
Groza nodded, motioning for him to lead on.
For a brothel, the place seemed relatively well kept, the stairs creaking a bit as they climbed being the only sign of wear on the building. The walls were well painted, a few paintings hung, and a table at the top of the stairs had a potted plant, that Groza identified as living, not plastic. Clearly, Novak, or whoever ran the place for him, put more than a little effort into the upkeep of their facility, and likely made enough money to keep it up. Then again, Dolls were an attraction, and while Groza didn't like it, more than a few models were created expressly for sex work.
"She will be with you shortly." The man leading her stopped as a door, unlocking it. A plate on the center carried the number eight, and a few nonsense characters. "Do enjoy." Groza swept into the room, ignoring the man, and her rising desire to grab him by the neck, and shake him, until he stopped moving.
The room itself resembled a bedroom, and a rather lavishly furnished one, at that. The bed, pushed against one wall, bore silk, or at least a passable imitation of silk, sheets, in a dark grey. Two windows looked down over the street, with a chair positioned next to one of them, designed to give a long view up towards the mayor's residence. Stepping further in, Groza gave the picture on the wall opposite the bed a glance, didn't recognize the artist and moved on, to assess the rest of the furniture. A writing desk even filled the wall beside the door, as if one would use the room for such things.
She pulled her phone out, requesting a status update from the rest of the squad. PP-2000 and Ots-12 confirmed they were in position to watch, and something about Ots-39 being an overeager idiot according to SV-98. Questions for later on.
Behind her, the latch of the door clicked open."Welcome." A smooth, lightly accented voice cut across her thinking, Groza's mind snapping back to the task at hand. Namely, learning about this little operation, beyond just that they made plenty of money and cared about appearances. She turned, giving the Doll in question a quick look over. Dirty blonde hair, a short white dress that left extraordinarily little to the imagination, thanks to a low cut neckline, and ending above the middle of said Doll's thigh. A fashionable black jacket could cover her, but it hung off her shoulders in a way that made clear every bit of that attire was chosen for a reason. Despite her slight heels, however, the other Doll walked in near perfect silence.
"Mm." Groza locked her phone, sliding it into a pocket. "You would be?"
Slow, measured steps intended to draw attention to long well-toned legs, and the carefully calculated sway of her hips, brought them closer together, the jacket falling a little father off her shoulders. "You may call me FAL." Even her voice, a light French accent, could ensnare a less prepared individual.
Unluckily for her, Groza sought none of what every bit of that persona offered. "FAL." Groza nodded, schooling her features into polite disinterest. "As in the weapon?" Stopping, FAL's eyes narrowed. Her shoulders rolled, the jacket falling back into a more covering position, leaving her arms free. "I am Ots-14, Groza, however if you prefer." FAL stared for a long while, brushing a lock of dirty blonde hair from her face, despite it being well out of the way of any position that might be called annoying. A delaying tactic.
At length, she spoke, shedding the accent entirely, in favor of a bland, featureless tone. "What is a Griffon Tactical Doll doing here?" Shifting her feet, the other Doll's weight settled differently, turning at odds to Groza, leaving as little of her body exposed as possible, and making it hard to see just what her right hand was doing. "I doubt you are here for the typical reason." A touch of wry humor bled into that, at the end.
With a snort, Groza let a bit of her own persona fade away. "No. Pleasure of the flesh is not something I seek out, or have much need of." FAL's eyes flickered with some emotion, a hand slipping into a pocket, doubtless for a hidden knife. "I do, however, find it odd, that a Doll would end up in this line of work, doubly so, one who can identify me on sight, and is not a model intended for more carnal pursuits."
FAL took another long moment to reply. "Not many PMCs let armed Dolls run about without supervision." Waving a hand towards the hidden sidearm on Groza's leg, the darker blonde Doll cocked her head, gaining a small smirk. "And not all of us are lucky enough to end up with the ability to apply for employment with Griffon…nor are all of us responsible for only ourselves." Groza grabbed onto that piece of information, deciding to use the offered opening. She'd let the other Doll dictate terms for now.
"Yes. There are at least three others with you." No names given, of course, but Groza didn't worry too much about that, she knew enough to get the conversation moving.
"Five." FAL corrected, before clamping down on her words. "Although only three of us are working." On the spectrum of scrutiny, FAL landed somewhere below the Commander and Helian, but well above the average human, or even most of the officers in the military, and well above their current employer. "You didn't answer my question."
Now, they could dance. "I did."
"No one comes to someplace like this out of idle curiosity." FAL stepped closer, meeting her eyes, but giving away nothing. "People come here for company or to vent. And you made it clear you are not looking for either of those things." Her hand remained in that pocket, just waiting to strike.
Brutal honesty was not Groza's preferred method of dealing with anything. But this situation called for at least a bit of it. "For better or worse, this mission is a waste of our talents." Searching for a single solitary would be thief, could hardly be called good work for a squad of Tactical Dolls. "To fill time while events played out, our Commander requested I investigate the state of the city…which led me to this place." Groza's lips curled. "By means of a rather…forward trio of Soviet officers."
FAL's expression visibly darkened, genuine dislike rippling across her features before it vanished into the blank mask again. "Which led to you coming here?"
Groza shrugged, making sure to keep the motion non-threatening. "They suggested they'd bring me along as a guest for their…activities." She turned, moving to the chair, keeping FAL in sight at all times, and carefully noting how the other Doll's posture shifted with her, always tracking, watching. "I may have declined that invitation with more violence than strictly required."
"If they lived, they got off light." Taking the cue, FAL sat on the bed, the guardedness of her expression fading enough for the appreciation for Groza's handling of the matter. That, it seemed suggested they'd been 'clients' in the past. "So you assumed then, if the clientele of this place involved those like them, the conditions here would be equally unpleasant."
"Correct." Groza tapped her fingers into the arm of her chair, weighing her next words with more care. Crossing her legs, she held FAL's gaze. "And, I admit that some portion of my interest is more selfish in nature. Poaching both you, and your comrades would almost double the effective manpower at the Commander's disposal."
For a human, FAL folding her arms in such a way to push up her bust might have drawn eyes and minds. Groza ignored it as well, watching FAL instead bite her lip as she thought. She'd never been on the receiving end of the seduction routine before and it was academically interesting, but she needed to worry about the other Doll for the moment. "Your Commander is recruiting." Hook.
"I believe I can convince him to be, as his words were 'Could do with more than one fucking squad, you know'." While he'd said it with a degree of sarcasm, Groza spent enough time with the Soviet military to know when officers meant things they said sarcastically, and when she could push without getting in trouble. "And, given that you admit having a full squad already with you, and I presume able to join you should you leave, it is an easy sell to the Commander." Pausing Groza cracked a thin smile. "And you have combat experience, which makes you a more appealing hire for a Sector Tactical Commander."
"Even if I accept, all of us are contractually bound here." FAL tossed back, not commenting on the experience remark. "Novák will not be letting us walk, we are a valuable resource to him and I doubt Griffon is willing to buy our contracts out." Probably not. Or rather. Sector 9 wouldn't have the money for it, given what OTs-12 told her about the state of their finances. Kalina could work miracles, but only so far. FAL stopped, leaving the challenge hanging. Line.
Groza leaned back, channeling every bit of the Commander she could. "You are more knowledgeable in Novák than I, so I will defer to your expertise in handling him, but I am not opposed to somewhat underhanded solutions, and you will have my resources at your disposal."
FAL's expression opened further, a pleased smile forming. Sinker, as the American expression went. "I believe I am going to enjoy this."
-Faded Glory-
OTs-39 wasted no time scrambling up the ruins after the person that she presumed to be their target. A small female figure based on the look from the binoculars, but they could have been a thin and lithe male as well. If they really planned to try and jump across, she doubted they would live. Human bodies weren't meant to take that sort of shock.
On the roof, she caught sight of the figure darting behind a pile of something, and bolted after them. They were not going to fail this just because the target tried to fly.
"F-Freeze!" OTs-39 came around a pile of rubble and ended up staring down the barrel of a handgun. The far side of the said handgun stood a girl that couldn't have been more than nineteen, messy brown hair poking out from beneath a somewhat ratty hat. Shaking arms barely kept the gun lined up with OTs-39's chest, and the rest of the girl didn't seem to be much better, clothing made of patchwork fabric, and a frantic stare. "St-stay back!"
Skidding to a halt, OTs-39 took a second to consider just charging the girl and risking getting shot, before discarding that idea. Groza would flay her alive for it, and she didn't have a good grasp of the Commander, but she felt like he was the 'don't get hurt without a reason' type.
"And drop that gun!" Came the second demand in rapid succession.
It wouldn't make a difference in a confrontation, so OTs-39 dropped her weapon to the side, watching the girl's arms shake further. Guessing time. "You are the one breaking and entering then?"
"What's that to you?" The girl snapped back, with a great deal more confidence this time. "And how'd you figure that out?!"
Obvious statements first. Try not to spook the girl too much. "We've been looking for you. And a guess. Not many people are going to pull a gun on someone chasing them first, especially when I'm not police or military."
"Duh. People come this way without a reason and people don't chase me up here without a reason either." The gun wobbled more, lowering a bit. A few more inches and OTs-39 figured she could escape this without getting shot. "Who sent you?"
"My boss?" Honest, but rather cheeky as well.
The girl's eyes flashed, and OTs-39 knew that was the wrong answer. "Who's your boss?"
A bit less cheek this time then. "Groza. OTs-14."
That stumped the girl holding her at weapon point for a moment, obviously not expecting a T-Doll designation. "Wait. You're a Doll, aren't you." The grip wavered further, the confidence regained in anger lost in the shock. "He hired freakin' Dolls? What the hell!"
"He?" Keep her talking. Get the gun to drop further so she could go for a non-lethal takedown. .
"That guy." A contemptuous hand waved at the manor told the story. "Rat bastard, that he is."
"Care to elaborate?" Groza did seem to imply things weren't quite what she expected given the situation so maybe this could explain it. And, the Commander wanted to know about the state of the city of Prague, maybe this girl could clear things up for him. At least it sounded like an idea. "Groza thinks that something is wrong, but she's not been able to figure out what."
An eye roll, and a snort told the story more than the words did. "Good try."
OTs-39 allowed herself a smirk, spotting the flash of light off a scope in the distance. "I don't have any reason to lie to you, do I?"
"Unless you want to drag me off to a cell." The Girl brought the gun back up, although her finger hovered well off the trigger.
"If I wanted to drag you off to a cell, my partner would have blown in your kneecaps already." Alarm flashed on the girl's face and she tried to twist to see what OTs-39 meant before realizing turning her back on the original 'threat' was a bad idea. "Six hundred meters behind you, on the left." The girl gulped, and OTs-39 rushed ahead with her hasty plan. "Griffon operates in groups of five as a rule. SV-98's my partner at the moment, and if I wanted to drag you into a cell, there is nothing that says you need to be intact." Well, there was, but no reason to let that on. "And SV is a good shot…"
"What's your point?" Despite the attempt at bravado her voice cracked, fear slipping out.
"I'm genuine in wanting to know more, and not in the hurry to throw you in a cell?"
"If you really want to talk, it isn't going to be on a roof." The girl muttered. "Or nearby."
"That is fine. We can return to where we are staying, and you and Groza can compare notes." That way, Groza could get her answers, they could confirm things with the Commander and either turn her in, or let her go, and come up with a cover story. If this Commander did that sort of thing.
"You promise you aren't handing me over to them." The Girl asked, stepping back once, still watching 39 with wide hawkish eyes.
"Promise." OTs-39 nodded. It'd be Groza doing that, so OTs wasn't even really lying.
"Fine." The Girl lowered her gun, stuffing it into her jacket. "I'll…I'll go talk with this…Groza woman." She paused. "That's it though. After I talk, I'm leaving. Deal?"
"That's fine." She slid a hand to her phone, drawing it slowly, non-threateningly, flipping it open, and tapping SV-98's icon. "98, we're going back to the house. She's coming with."
"Uh….Sure?" The sniper sounded properly confused. "Groza's gonna love this. Her day is apparently getting worse."
"You can explain on the way."
-Faded Glory-
"Why does the Commander want to know if we have the budget for another full squad?" Moving down the halls at a light jog, Kalina wracked her brain for any possible explanation, as, last she knew, they weren't scheduled to gain any reinforcements in the foreseeable future, since the first thing he ordered was for her to check. And the answer did not amuse him in the least. So why
Stepping into his office, having been told to just step in when she got the files, Kalina took in the rather odd sight of the Commander's and Groza staring one another across a video call. He apparently didn't bother with the holoprojector, opting for a conventional video call, with Groza and the others projected on the far wall.
Not stopping to acknowledge Kalina in the least, the Commander started to tick off on his fingers. "Let me see if I'm understanding this correctly." He spoke with a sort of forced deliberateness that suggested he had strong opinions but bottled them up. "You beat the snot out of a trio of soldiers who tried to sexually assault you and drag you off to a brothel. Then, upon learning said brothel has at least one Doll in it's employ, went to said brothel, bluffed your way inside, got an appointment with one of these Dolls, convinced her that she could have employment with Griffon, along with her companions. Then, when she said they were contractually bound to that job for the foreseeable future, the pair of you hatched some hairbrained scheme to get them out of this contract and hirable by Griffon. Have I missed anything?"
"I believe that is an accurate summary of my evening, yes Commander." Groza's image smiled a bit, and Kalina shivered. This conversation was not one she wanted to be part of. Previous Commanders always said Groza possessed a strong sense of right, wrong, and her own free will, which could be considered good, right up until it hit an equally strong personality in the current Commander.
"Why?" He motioned for Kalina to approach with the files while asking the question-command.
Somehow Groza made a shrug elegant. "You mentioned we are lacking manpower, Commander, and that HQ is not in a hurry to send more. As a Tactical Commander, it is within your theoretical power to hire new T-Dolls, provided they pass the relevant checks and your Sector has enough budget to do so."
"Theoretical powers, Groza. I don't know of anyone who has actually done it." The Commander took the tablet, giving it a quick glance. "Also, I believe you were also present for my discussion of budget limitations."
"We could maybe pull it off." Kalina took her cue to step into the conversation, a safe cue, one she knew things about. "It'll be really tight for the first few months though and we'll need to up the number of missions taken." The Commander nodded a few times, scrolling the charts on the tablet now, while Groza just watched her, leading Kalina to suspect this answer to be part of the other Doll's plan. "And we'll be eating into stockpiled supplies for a bit to make sure nothing runs into the red." Feeling the weight of the Doll's stare, Kalina squirmed. "Sorry, Miss Groza."
"There is nothing wrong with accurate assessment of the situation." Groza waved her concerns aside, returning her focus to the Commander. "With your permission, Commander?" Kalina watched the Commander's face, the slight downturn of his lips, the slow, measured way he placed the tablet on the table. He didn't, by her guess, like this idea at all.
"Combat experience?" Even tone, no shift in facial expression. Nope, Kalina couldn't guess what he was thinking. Then again, she got used to reading the expressions of Helian, who could be far more emotive.
Groza had that answer ready. "Three at least have combat experience. Their 'leader' is a surprisingly savvy individual."
He grunted. "FAL, correct?" Groza dipped her head. "I see." He gave the budget listing another quick look before sighing. "You may do as you wish."
That, for the first time, surprised Groza, from what Kalina could tell. The Doll's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "Commander?"
"You may do as you wish, Groza." He repeated, looking up from the tablet and it's graphs, eyes asking Kalina if they could really make it happen. She nodded. They could make it work, really. Before more could be said, a door slammed, and the stomp of feet could be heard on the call. Groza spun, hair flying about, a sharp contrast to her usually well-mannered appearance.
"Groza?" SV-98 came into view first the blonde sniper biting her lip, and shifting uneasily. "We uh…we found the target."
"I see." Kalina glanced at the Commander, who leaned back, apparently content to watch Groza at work. "And?"
"She's with us. Apparently, 39 talked her into coming to talk, saying you wanted to know about the state of the city more." Groza glanced back at the Commander now. Kalina saw him nod, although what he agreed to obviously went over her head. "She's got a serious mouth on her, just a warning."
"Understood. I assume 39 is keeping her occupied." A nod. "Bring her in, I will speak with her." Groza moved her position enough to see the Commander and the 'target' at the same time, when they arrived.
While the commotion on the other end of the line unfolded the Commander tapped his desk, drawing Kalina's attention. She turned, glancing down at the tablet that he pushed to her.
How close are we cutting it?
She reached over, typing a quick reply. We can make it two months if nothing changes. He read, and nodded, before folding his hands, frowning off into the distance. Should we get a dorm ready for them? He glanced down, but didn't reply, returning to watching, which Kalina decided, couldn't have been less helpful.
A ratty looking teenage girl came into view, with a gun stuffed haphazardly into a pocket of her coat, and OTs-39 following behind, weapon not quite pointed at her back. So, they didn't consider the girl a prisoner. The Commander made a noise of muffled surprise.
"Target found." OTs-39 reported, before stepping back to the edge of the room with the rest of the squad, giving the impression of a strange trial taking place in the rented house.
"I've got a name." The Girl muttered, even as Kalina realized that, despite the protest, that meant little if OTs-39 didn't know said Girl's name. "Fancy lady, you'll be Groza?"
"I am OTs-14, Groza, yes." She settled into the chair, accidentally mimicking the Commander's posture, and Kalina bit down on a snort of amusement. While they seemed to but heads a bit, they also used all the same tricks . "You are?"
Instantly the girl's face closed off, jaw hardening into a line, her entire posture becoming defensive. "What's it to you?"
"I prefer to know the names of those I am speaking to." Groza cocked her head to the side. "And, you have me at the disadvantage of easy access to my name, while I do not have such to yours…and addressing you as Girl, or Child is rather demeaning."
For a moment, Kalina expected the girl to argue about it, before she backed down. "Fleur. Name's Fleur."
French, although she didn't sound like it. Kalina looked to the Commander. He reached over and tapped the tablet once again about to mouth the question. "Immigrant. At least a second generation, she speaks like a native." How did he realize her question without asking? Her eyes darted up, and he smirked, folding his hands to block the view of his mouth.
"I see." Groza gestured for Fleur to sit in an open chair. "I propose an exchange. A question for a question." Fleur, notably, didn't sit, and her hand sat awfully close to the gun in her pocket.
"Why. You're just going to hand me over, aren't you?"
"That decision will lay with the Commander." Smoothly, she moved focus to the man in question, who dipped his head in a soft agreement with Groza's words. Kalina had to admire the way he effortlessly asserted control, without any sort of prior knowledge. She spent hours and hours preparing to take over a business meeting and he could do this in seconds? Not fair at all.
"I like to believe myself a reasonable man, Fleur, and tend to find people rarely act out without a reason." A rumbling proclamation, gruffer than his usual tone. "I would hear your reason before I decide what I will do." A long pause, and he visibly softened. "And I consider you acting as you do to suggest something gone awry in that city, as I do not recall it breeding dissent in such a manner in the past."
"You could fool me into thinking you all care." Fleur cast about both with gaze and words, getting little reaction from the other Dolls. "What is this place to you anyways? You aren't from Prague, all your Dolls are Soviet, and they just want to turn this into a puppet city!"
"Why do you believe that?" Groza spoke for them all, but Kalina saw the Commander's hand curl into a fist. "I know they are moving soldiers here, and recently established a base, but nothing suggests an overt move to turn Prague into a satellite state."
Fleur glared at her, but from what Kalina could see the Doll held the stare without a flinch. "You see how the city is half exploded? Looks like a war was fought here?" Based on the report, a bit of a rhetorical question. When they came in, Kalina did a quick search and satellite imagery showed the ruins and destruction that remained, even years after the fighting left the city behind.
"There was a war fought in Prague." The Commander cut in, tone sharp. "Months of war, in fact. Groza suggests the rebuilding stalled, somewhere along the way."
"It didn't just stall, they haven't done shit for years." Fleur spat out. Kalina knew the vitriol of seeing one's home burned to ash, but this…this went beyond that. "One of my neighbors is from Germany, she says the whole place is rebuilt, and thriving. You've seen this city, half of it still looks like it got shelled." She huffed. "I talked a classmate into hacking into the server with the city budget on it. There's money there."
"That is publicly available information." While mild, Groza's tone suggested rebuke, as Kalina started searching the city budget for Prague, ignoring the commander's amused huff.
"He's a lying shit, why'd he tell the truth about his budget." Fleur retorted, and Kalina bit down a smile. She could, if nothing else, empathize with this. "Hrjesa doesn't care about this city, no matter what his little war hero act claims."
"The Mayor." Groza repeated, Fleur nodding along.
"Yeah, that shithead. He got elected saying he's a war hero and would protect Prague as its mayor, as he did when he was a soldier. All he did was invite the Russians in, throw people in jail and generally be an asshole." Fleur finally sat, all but throwing herself into the chair.
"Kalina." The Commander murmured. "First name on that Mayor."
"Roger." She started to search as the conversation went on.
"I'm just trying to find evidence that he is as bad as I know he is."
"And what will you do with the evidence?" OTs-12 asked the question, causing Fleur to whip about. "Blackmail him? Tell the press? What is the plan?" The white-haired AR flicked a phone that, Kalina realized with some shock, wasn't Griffon standard issue, closed.
"I don't know. He's a war hero. What could I do when I'm just some kid?" Fleur finally dropped down. "I just…I had to do something. Try at least."
Kalina spun the tablet back to the Commander, who read the name at the top. Kalina recognized the flash of pure rage on the Commander's face, as he leaned back in his chair, before it vanished completely leaving only a stone stare in its place.
"So, you acted out, without a plan, and heedless of consequence." Groza summed things up. "I cannot fault you for bravery, although foresight may be lacking." The Doll tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair, as vague chatter filled the line, the questions being thrown out by the other Dolls, and Fleur giving answers that ranged from rude to neutral.
"Fleur." The Commander cut across the noise after several minutes.
"Yeah?" She crossed her arms, glaring at him.
"You do understand that, no matter what happens, you will not be able to return to Prague for the foreseeable future, or you will spend it in a cell." The girl grimaced, but nodded, reluctantly. "Groza."
"Commander."
"Assessment of her abilities?" Why would he be asking that?
Groza considered for a few moments everyone hanging on her words. "She's quite accomplished at breaking and entering. Neither SV-98, nor the locals are able to figure out how she broke into the Mayoral residence, and she evaded capture in the modern era, this speaks highly to her abilities. Charisma to convince classmates to assist her in illegal activities is also worth noting. She is, however, uncomfortable with firearms, and perhaps has yet to actually fire one…indeed the idea of hurting another person is not one she enjoys." Frowning, the squad leader looked her up and down once again. "There is much potential in her."
"How-" Fleur started and bit down on her own objection. "Whatever." Her eyes dropped, looking away.
Snorting the Commander nodded to himself. "What would you say if I told you I could, without any shadow of doubt, remove your Mayor from office?"
"I'd call bullshit." As it appeared would everyone else in the room from the looks on the Doll's faces. The Commander however, stared them down for a while. "You're going up against a beloved war hero, someone who fought in Prague itself."
"Indeed." He nodded. "And, it is true, that public opinion is hard to sway…unless of course, one can argue the same." Groza and OTs-12's jaws snapped shut.
"I don't follow."
The Commander nodded, solemnly. "During the battle of Prague, about…six blocks from where you are now, I spent the better part of four days fighting tooth and nail against the Soviet advance." His eyes darkened in memory. "I lost a lot of friends during that shitshow." Meeting Fleur's eyes, his expression never changed. "I suppose I will take this as a lesson in looking at client names more closely."
"Why should I trust you?" Fleur shot back. "You're just some Griffon guy, you don't have a stake in this, and, you throw him out, you don't get paid."
He chuckled low, throaty, and full of menace. "True enough. But, I believe there is a solution for all parties." He folded his hands before him. "One I believe will be useful for all involved."
-Faded Glory-
As the rest of the group filtered out, plans finalized, and ready for sleep, Groza remained behind.
"Commander."
"Groza." For a while they stared each other down before the Commander sighed. "Do as you wish Groza, I will not stop you."
She sighed. "That isn't what I intended to ask, Commander."
He blinked, just once. "But, it was the end goal." Groza couldn't really deny that.
"Perhaps." She paused, taking in her thoughts for a moment. "Are you sure you can trust her?"
He snorted. "Absolutely not, at least for the moment. Once I make good on my end of the deal I will have at least limited loyalty from her, and money goes a long way after that." Humming, Groza nodded.
"I understand."
A half smile flashed across his face. "Good." And the call ended with a click, leaving her alone in the dark.
"He's not telling us something." Tiss's voice came from the left, in the shadows.
"Of course he isn't." Groza resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"No. About this plan of his." Moving into the light, Tiss sat down heavily. "We don't know anything about him, it all trickles in drips and drops, but never the whole picture. He's a soldier, he fought in Prague, but what else?" Tiss started ticking off her fingers. "We don't know where he's from, what he did before coming to Griffon, what his family is, any of it."
"We've only known the man for a week Tiss, it's reasonable for him to be reticent." Although, some of what Tiss said rang true.
"Sure." A handwave. "But he doesn't have personal effects. His office is completely bland, you wouldn't know he worked in it if it wasn't for the paperwork. Every commander puts stuff there, Groza. So why doesn't he?"
"I don't know. For now, I believe it is premature to ask questions about the Commander's habits, given how little we know about him. You can ask Miss Helian if you wish to know more?"
Tiss winced. "I…did. She doesn't know much about him either. Apparently, Mr. Kryuger hired him personally for some reason." That, meanwhile, did prove to be worrying.
"I will ask when we get back." If he didn't kill them over FAL and company. "Are you alright with the rest of the plan?"
"With helping FAL you mean?" Groza nodded. "Of course. We're the lucky ones Groza. We went from the military straight to G&K, with a bit of a trip for Etching with weapons. We didn't have to deal with any of that sorta *Russian word for shit goes here*."
"True." She stood. "Get some rest, Tiss. Tomorrow will prove exhausting, for everyone involved."
"Yeah yeah. Later." And Tiss slunk off again, leaving Groza alone.
"What aren't you saying, Commander…." She sighed, shaking her head, and settling in to wait until PP-2000 woke to relieve her from watching to ensure their guest did not flee.
AN: Okay, I lied, I'm gonna get one more chapter out before Isomer drops. And even a long one besides. It's going to be at least a few weeks until the next one though, as I've started clear guides but that leaves out Ranking and such, so I'm afraid it's gonna be a bit before I can properly write again. For my Fire Emblem readers, Darkness Unto Light will get an update after the next chapter for this, baring a flash of inspiration for that (next chapter is about 2k words in, and it's all shit).
Questions, comments, reviews, etc, are always appreciated, and make sure to yell at Branded King in appreciation for his beta work. This chapter needed it. And go read Toy Soldiers if you haven't already.
