[Joel puts his shoulder into a sharp turn 'round a bend, ignoring the chorus of honks -- and Heine's question. He makes another turn, speeds through a run-down neighborhood, and then directs the car into a narrow alleyway. He knows the side streets around this neighborhood, knows how to get them over to the warehouse district without being seen on the main streets with all their cameras.]
Someplace we can hide. [He finally answers after a long silence. The docks are coming up, and maybe he could just pull into park and..... knock Heine out, in one easy motion.]
[ Heine grunts in acknowledgement to the suggestion of hiding, focusing back on the code. He can almost see the pattern. Almost. It's like there was someone else— ]
Fuck.
[ He hisses, fingers stabbing at keys until he finds a trace. It's hidden, but not well enough. Going back, he finds packets dropped from already-wiped video footage. He can't recover it, but it's clear that someone else was there and they're trying to hide. He follows the signature. ]
This asshole. [ Almost a mumble to himself, before he raises his voice. ] Gladstone used us as a cover.
[While Heine is tapping away, Joel parks the car behind the warehouse, hidden from sight by a chain link fence grown over with ivy. This would do for now, while he took care of business. The thief looks intent on his computer, and Joel has to strain to hear what he says. Something about Gladstone? Using them...? Yeah, that's a likely story.]
Sure he did. [With that, he lashes out, trying to catch Heine while he was still distracted and could be easily put into a headlock.]
[ Heine is concentrating on the screen, but he was alone on the streets for long enough that he reacts, one hand snapping up, aimed at Joel's throat as he scrambles for the inside handle of the door. His laptop slips to one side of his seat. ]
Hey—!
[ Struggling with holding off the arm going around his neck, Heine scrunches himself up and kicks out across the stickshift. ]
[He gets his head out of the way just enough to take a blow to the jaw instead, but Heine already has one arm inside the chokehold-- enough to avoid getting throttled unconscious. Joel abruptly changes tactics, trying to slam Heine against the dashboard instead when the other man kicks him. The movement knocks him against the steering wheel, and the horn sounds. BAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.
Joel instinctively freezes-- shit, this area's supposed to be abandoned, they can't draw too much attention-- but that's bad idea in the middle of a tussle...]
[ Heine's head snaps back when he hits the dashboard, but he kicks again, struggling. When the horn blares, he jumps and jerks back—and is able to this time, since Joel freezes. He scrabbles at the handle and falls backwards out of the car. ]
[Bad fucking luck-- the kick shoves him back against the far side of the car, knocks all the air right out of his lungs. With a click, the side door opens and Heine tumbles out-- damn thief's about to get away.
With one movement, Joel draws the pistol from his back holster, aiming down the sights. He can't afford to draw attention with the sound of a gunshot right now, but he sure as shit ain't about to let Heine escape either.]
[Real convenient for Heine while Joel's got his gun trained to his head. Still... there had been something real fishy about this job. And while he'd heard that Heine was good, it'd have taken a magic for him to whisk the painting out from under Joel's nose in the two seconds or so he'd been left alone.]
[ Heine waits, for Joel to either decide to pull the trigger or to believe him. And—it's the latter. Some tension leaves his body, but he doesn't sigh in relief just yet. ]
...I need my laptop.
[ It's in the footwell of the passenger seat. Heine hopes that it isn't broken. ]
[ Heine glares for a second longer (he can so type with just one arm), but he doesn't risk it. He goes past Joel to the car, eyeing him the whole time, and slowly picks up his laptop. He takes a seat on the passenger seat again as he boots it back up.
Thankfully the fall hadn't hurt it. Heine pulls up the trail he was looking at before, bracing himself to explain it to someone who doesn't look like they even know what a smartphone is. ]
[Joel... totally knows what a smartphone is! He has one, and is even able to text and make calls on it and everything.
At least the thief doesn't respond with another wise-ass remark. Joel waits impatiently as Heine opens up the laptop, typing into a screen filled with what looked like so much gibberish. Ten seconds go by... twenty... he adjusts his grip on the gun and if Heine glances up, gives him a look.]
Heine does glance up—just long enough to sigh a little and turn the screen further toward Joel. ]
Look, here's the bank account I got paid through. Guessing yours is the same. [ Actually, Heine knows it's the same, because he checked, but he doesn't mention that part. ] While I was in the system, I noticed there was a kind of interference, like someone'd been there before.
[ More typing, more blah blah about tracking accounts and IP addresses and usage of the same encryption, etc. ]
So his payment was just to get us in there as a distraction, but the painting's long gone. [ Heine pauses, then continues more slowly. ] Well—for the guy who used to own it, anyway.
[It... sort of makes sense. Maybe. Heine sort of lost Joel when he was going on about account numbers and IPs and double-down tracing markers, or whatever, but he thinks he got the gist of it.
He doesn't much like the picture that Heine is describing though. Getting double crossed by the buyer... that just meant it was Tuesday. But Joel had thought he was past that point in his life, thought that he'd gotten canny to this kind of bullshit.]
...Suppose that's true. What're you proposin' to do about it.
[ Heine accepts that with a shrug; given that Joel'd been screwed out of just as much money as he was, and endangered as well, he can understand. Ish. ]
I don't have anything to follow the painting directly, but I have eyes on most of Gladstone's assets. He'll make a big thing out of securing the Klimt, so I can locate it.
[ As for his money, however... ] I'd have to be there physically anyway, since I need closer access to find information on his accounts. I've got numbers, but not the passwords.
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Someplace we can hide. [He finally answers after a long silence. The docks are coming up, and maybe he could just pull into park and..... knock Heine out, in one easy motion.]
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Fuck.
[ He hisses, fingers stabbing at keys until he finds a trace. It's hidden, but not well enough. Going back, he finds packets dropped from already-wiped video footage. He can't recover it, but it's clear that someone else was there and they're trying to hide. He follows the signature. ]
This asshole. [ Almost a mumble to himself, before he raises his voice. ] Gladstone used us as a cover.
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Sure he did. [With that, he lashes out, trying to catch Heine while he was still distracted and could be easily put into a headlock.]
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Hey—!
[ Struggling with holding off the arm going around his neck, Heine scrunches himself up and kicks out across the stickshift. ]
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[He gets his head out of the way just enough to take a blow to the jaw instead, but Heine already has one arm inside the chokehold-- enough to avoid getting throttled unconscious. Joel abruptly changes tactics, trying to slam Heine against the dashboard instead when the other man kicks him. The movement knocks him against the steering wheel, and the horn sounds. BAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.
Joel instinctively freezes-- shit, this area's supposed to be abandoned, they can't draw too much attention-- but that's bad idea in the middle of a tussle...]
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With one movement, Joel draws the pistol from his back holster, aiming down the sights. He can't afford to draw attention with the sound of a gunshot right now, but he sure as shit ain't about to let Heine escape either.]
Don't move.
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He stops where he is, catching his breath. ]
What. [ Well—he knows what. ] Look, Gladstone's the problem here, I didn't take it.
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[Real convenient for Heine while Joel's got his gun trained to his head. Still... there had been something real fishy about this job. And while he'd heard that Heine was good, it'd have taken a magic for him to whisk the painting out from under Joel's nose in the two seconds or so he'd been left alone.]
Prove it.
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...I need my laptop.
[ It's in the footwell of the passenger seat. Heine hopes that it isn't broken. ]
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Then get it. I'll wait.
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[ Heine's walking a very thin line here, and he knows that. He pushes anyway. ]
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Don't bullshit me. 'nless you'd rather type with one arm.
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Thankfully the fall hadn't hurt it. Heine pulls up the trail he was looking at before, bracing himself to explain it to someone who doesn't look like they even know what a smartphone is. ]
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At least the thief doesn't respond with another wise-ass remark. Joel waits impatiently as Heine opens up the laptop, typing into a screen filled with what looked like so much gibberish. Ten seconds go by... twenty... he adjusts his grip on the gun and if Heine glances up, gives him a look.]
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Heine does glance up—just long enough to sigh a little and turn the screen further toward Joel. ]
Look, here's the bank account I got paid through. Guessing yours is the same. [ Actually, Heine knows it's the same, because he checked, but he doesn't mention that part. ] While I was in the system, I noticed there was a kind of interference, like someone'd been there before.
[ More typing, more blah blah about tracking accounts and IP addresses and usage of the same encryption, etc. ]
So his payment was just to get us in there as a distraction, but the painting's long gone. [ Heine pauses, then continues more slowly. ] Well—for the guy who used to own it, anyway.
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He doesn't much like the picture that Heine is describing though. Getting double crossed by the buyer... that just meant it was Tuesday. But Joel had thought he was past that point in his life, thought that he'd gotten canny to this kind of bullshit.]
...Suppose that's true. What're you proposin' to do about it.
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[ STRAIGHT UP. ]
He can't have secured the painting properly yet. If I move now, it's still attainable.
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...Well, you ain't takin' it by yourself. [The painting AND the money.]
What's your plan?
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I don't have anything to follow the painting directly, but I have eyes on most of Gladstone's assets. He'll make a big thing out of securing the Klimt, so I can locate it.
[ As for his money, however... ] I'd have to be there physically anyway, since I need closer access to find information on his accounts. I've got numbers, but not the passwords.