Henry had done a good job. Perhaps a little too good. 

The little Chinese restaurant just off the pier was owned by Mr. and Mrs. Yan, and was always busy. Mrs. Yan cooked in the back and yelled at Mr. Yan while he greeted customers and watched the register line an eagle. Their son, David, waited and bussed tables. Tonight, the place appeared mildly busy, with about 2/3 of the tables occupied. All the patrons were employees of Illania Santoro, either body guards or her own small army of informants. Tonight required the utmost privacy without giving much suspicion. Though, there wasn't as much of the usual hum of people. Mr. Yan perched on a stool behind the register with his head hidden in a Chinese language paper. Mrs. Yan was in the kitchen, but she didn't bark orders at David or her husband as usual. David dutifully waited tables with his head down and voice low. What in the world had Henry told them when he came to rent the place out for the night? It was a dinner, just a meeting over food that required a bit more confidentiality. She'd have to ask him later if he arranged it all at him point or something. 

"Hi, David. How are you?" 

Illania gave him an easy smile as she walked through the door. The young man smiled very lightly and bowed his head. 

"Welcome, Miss Santoro. We have your table prepared." 

All business, as usual. Illania followed him through the dining room to a four-top that was set for two. She had no coat or jacket to hang, as she'd left the more staunch business attire in her office. Instead, she wore a navy blue A-line skirt, and a silk cream colored blouse with a string of  pearls. Her long, dark brown hair was down, which was unusual for her. 

When she was seated, David brought an ornate ceramic tea set on a tray and poured her a cup, then left her alone to wait for the mysterious Billy Pilgrim. 

​​​

As the man approached, Illania stood from her seat and greeted her guest, returning a smile. 

"Yes, hello, Mr. Pilgrim. Please, have a seat."

She gestured to the waiting chair, and while he settled himself, she poured him a cup of the steaming hot tea before taking her seat again. 

"I appreciate you coming all this way to meet with me face to face. I realize that may be unusual for a man in your business, so I've taken plenty of precaution on your behalf, and mine."

David came again to the table and brought glasses of ice water then disappeared into the kitchen. Illania knew he'd begin bringing the food fairly quickly, so she cleared her throat softly. 

​​​​​​"I should get right to it so we can enjoy the meal. I hope you don't mind. Some things have developed since I spoke to you on the phone. The Greek problem I have is going to have to take a back seat. Something else a bit more complicated has come up. I know that I need information, but I'm not exactly sure how close I need to get to the subject."

Illania slid the same note written by Jack Mezzo across the table that bore the name Ada Berg. 

​​​​​​"Is this name familiar to you?" 

​

Illania was immediately impressed by the man seated across from her, and that was saying something. As a general rule, she admired people with intelligence. Anyone in Billy's line of work needed a sharp mind, and he had it in spades. 

She listened carefully, making mental notes of things she thought most pertinent. Billy's warning was an echo of Jack's back in Los Angeles, and the more she learned about the woman, the more Illania understood why. 

When Billy finished, Illania gave a slow nod, one hand resting on the table. She considered her words carefully. 

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you who I work for, I'm sure you've done your homework there. Recently, my client came into contact with someone with very close ties to the Iceberg, and he's asked me to find out her current status, whereabouts, et cetera. My assumption is that he wants to be sure his new acquaintance is protected from her."

Illania took a sip of tea before continuing. 

​​​​​​"The information you've given me may suffice, but I insist on being extremely thorough. With respect to your warning, what would you recommend for my client? Go with what we've got now and leave well enough alone, or-carefully- persue additional measures?" 

"This is personal. Very personal."

She paused as David arrived at the table with a tiered plate of appetizers. Up until that moment, Illania hadn't realized how hungry she actually was. With a grateful nod, she dismissed David and waited a few moments before continuing. 

​​​​​​"I doubt there's a concern that Berg is going after my client's associate, but given this woman's history of chaos, he's not prepared to take any chances."

Her next phase was practiced. She'd made it up herself, so it couldn't have been too difficult to decode; especially for someone like Billy Pilgrim. She looked directly at him, keeping her tone casual as she reached for a stick of terryaki chicken. 

​​​​​​"My client recently came into possession of a late model car that only arrived in the US a few weeks ago. A nice car, really; good curves and painted pink. In the process of getting the vehicle registered, he wanted to make sure there were no outstanding issues from it's previous owner."

Either Billy would be able to pick her code apart, or he'd be very confused in the sudden change in subject. Either way, her biggest concern was that he didn't burst out laughing at her attempt.

​​​​​​

Relieved, Illania gave a nod.

"Precisely. My client would simply like to look after the security of the vehicle now that it's in his care."

The food, as usual, was excellent. Illania had probably eaten her weight in Mrs. Yan's teriyaki chicken since she opened her office on Race Street. Tonight, it seemed especially good. Perhaps it was just comfort food in a high-stakes situation. Food had a funny way of helping things like that go a bit more smoothly.

"At this point, having very little knowledge of the situation on a whole, and more knowledge on the Iceberg than I ever needed to know, I'd like to stay as far away as possible; but my main concern is- as always- asset protection. This...car...is an asset, and it's my job to see that it's protected. in this case, to advise my client on how best to protect it."

The metaphors were getting a bit silly, to Illania's taste. Still, she had a decent idea of the reach of this crazy European assassin woman, and like Jack wished to take no chances. Billy Pilgrim seemed to know a lot- probably more than he was saying, and for good reason. Illania found herself curious- not so much about Ada Berg- but about Billy Pilgrim himself. 

There was still plenty of meal to go, so Illania made an executive decision to let the most pressing topic rest for a while. She softened her expression and settled into her chair a bit more.

"So, I'm curious- you said you were in Europe in 1915. You must have started this business pretty young. Did you always want to do...this?"

As he spoke, Illania nibbled the chicken and listened to his story. She had a slight suspicion that Billy Pilgrim wasn't his actual name. He was still an active...spy? And it just sounded like a spy name to her. It was all quite interesting, really. Far and away from the life she had growing up. 

"That's about it." 

Illania couldn't help but giggle at his somewhat sheepish finish. 

"Why the shrug? That's an awfully exciting story. You've been more places than I have, and my parents owned an airline." 

She finished her chicken stick and reached for a pod of steamed snow peas. 

"Undercover work sounds unbelievably exciting. But you have to keep up with so many details about your alias, right? And have to be believable."

This time, it was Illania that shrugged. 

"I just grew up here, went to college and law school, and became an attorney. Rather a boring story next to yours."

She grinned a little, and David showed up again with a small bottle with a label that was written in Mandarin. 

"For Miss Santoro and guest, from my father."

Illania bowed her head gratefully and picked up the bottle curiously. 

"Wonder what this is?" 

​

Illiana lifted an eyebrow and laughed a bit.

"Well, aren't you the gentleman?"

Into the small glass provided, Illiana poured what was roughly two fingers and then lifted the glass to her nose. The clear liquid was extremely strong, almost like vodka, but different. Shrugging, she took a sip. 

"Woah. Oh, wow. That's...really really strong stuff."

She seemed to shiver a bit, then poured a glass for Billy and slid it to him.

"If there was any poison, it got burned off by the alcohol."

From somewhere behind her, she heard the muffled chuckle of an older man. 

"I think Mr. Yan just wanted to see me cringe."

She braved another taste as David arrived with the main courses of the meal. Mrs. Yan had really outdone herself, even including items Illiana had never seen on the menu. To her surprise, she found that the strange liquor went very well with the food, and the bottle was slowly emptying. Also to her pleasant surprise, Billy was more than an interesting fellow. He had a raw, sarcastic wit that just barely tickled 'over the line,' which Illiana found refreshing. Pushing her plate back, she gave a soft, satisfied sigh and relaxed in her chair a bit. Her golden-brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she looked at Billy- the edges of her vision maybe a bit hazy from the drinks.

"I always thought spies were naturally stoic and tightly-wound. You're not like that at all."

Illiana was considering another drink; weighing the pros against the possibility of becoming too uninhibited.

"So....how am I doing?" 

Illiana laughed and picked up the bottle, pouring one of maybe two or three more servings before it was empty. 

"At what? Drinking this stuff? I'd say you're doing an impressive job, but then again, you've spent a lot of time around European liquors, so you're probably better equipped for this stuff than I was."

The taste was fading, at this point. She downed the drink and took a moment to enjoy the warm, fuzzy feeling it sent to her insides, then gathered her wits a little more tightly. She knew what he was really asking. And she knew that he'd likely picked up on her intentions in asking about his career thus far. Her face took a shade closer to its usual, professional solemnity. 

"Look, Mr. Pilgrim, I've got people that get information for me. They're good, and I've known them a lot longer than I've known you. Bringing people into my employ...and that of my client...is something I have to weigh very carefully."

She paused for several beats, and then cracked a bit of a smile. 

​​​​​​"You blow them all away. The network you have b built up, the skill you've gained in undercover work; you're an immense asset and I don't think freelance work is paying you enough."

Reaching down between her feet, she picked up her handbag and put it on the table, making it very easy for him to see that there was nothing threatening coming from it. Instead, she pulled out an very thick manila envelope bound with a rubber band and placed it between them. 

"That's fifty-thousand for the info on the Norwegian, and fifty to retain your help with my Greek problem later. I don't know how often you've made a hundred grand for eating Chinese and talking, but I'm prepared to make you an appealing offer to join the Race Street Company."

​​​​​​

Her face broke into a grin. 

"I thought you might. I think you'll find Race Street a rather agreeable place. The people in this organization are good folks. I think you'll like Jack, especially. He's a very down-to-earth kind of guy for being as powerful and influential as he is."

Her brain reminded her of the next evening's appointment with the boss and she grimaced a little. 

​​​​​​"Anyway, at this point, I'd usually make an appointment for you to come by my office and have your photos done for the decoy project, but I think I'm going to keep you out of that, given your background. Instead, you can just come by tomorrow and pick an office in my building to set up in. We have plenty to get working on."

David appeared to clear away the finished dishes. Giving her mouth a final swipe, Illiana looked toward one of the tables and nodded, signaling its occupant to begin clearing out and get her car ready. 

​​​​​​"Have you got a place to stay here? Can I give you a ride somewhere?"