A Lesson in Deception [Masque, open]

[Anslem Aslem]

March 8th, 1960
1307

A distinct smell of cooking meat filled the kitchen, and on the table there were countless diagrams of the Dai Buffoni restaurant. Over his career with the Liberatores Anslem had been there countless times, however he always refreshed his memory on the possible escape routes, sniper shots, and general lay-out of the restaurant. The meeting be in a backroom below a well known whore’s bedroom. He had already ordered the building completely empty, only the owner be kept as a host and waiter. The capo seal off all chances for interference he could.

As he flipped over the sausage sizzling in the frying pan he frowned a little, now just came the second part of the plan and how much trust he truly placed in his protégé. Anslem was a man concerned with personal integrity, that didn’t mean however he didn’t bend rules or walked along his boundaries. He teach Masque the same sort of half truths that had sustained his life so far, and he could only hope one day she would not be the one to serve that karmic backlash.

He glanced at the clock, as far as he knew the girl usually woke around noon unless he roused her earlier. It was not for him to speculate what she did so late at night as long as she kept her obligations to him. He yawned as he placed the cooked meat on his plate. He needed more coffee, and some sort of peace of mind all would go as planned tonight. He hoped she would appear soon, he still had much to before he faced the man he had spoken to on the phone in person.

I wonder if you are just as accommodating in person, Allen.

[Velia Walsh]

Gah, Anslem!? What's he doing in the kitchen? He's never here... He's waiting for someone? If I'm to believe his body language, anyway. But who? Me?

But I'm barely presentable! I have to go back and get ready... But... The smell of sausage~! Food...

...

"Good morning Mr. Aslem." The starved girl stated quickly, stepping into the kitchen and wasting no time as she dove into the pantry, gathering the necessary materials for a quick sandwich. "Uh, what are you doing up so early?"

... Wait, it's noon...

"Uh, ahaha! Just kidding, of course! But, um, what brings you to the kitchen at such an hour?"

... It's fucking noon!

Yet more nervous laughter escaped her as she turned red from embarassment, unable to control her own body language stating that she was making a fool of herself.

"Um, just... Nevermind..." Meekly stating this, she timidly pulled the necessary materials from their respective places, setting them on the counter as she went about her business.

[Anslem Aslem]

Anslem frowned that Masque seemed surprised to see him. That maid must have not given her the note--I'll see to it she's fired. Still this was fortunate then. He lit a cigarette before he began searching for a fork.

"Good afternoon, I hope you don't mind Masque but I will need to speak to you for a few minutes, I spoke to that man this morning," 'that man' of course being the Innocenzo capo. He yawned and blinked after setting a fork on his plate.

"Doch--so meet me out on the veranda when you're done," he asked as he picked up his diagrams after him. He gave her a small smirk before he walked through the paneled French doors to the small balcony. The glass doors assured no one could lean against the door and the high, secluded location made it difficult for anyone to read lips, much less eavesdrop.

His expression and the meeting place should be enough to indicate to her he was going to confide something to her.

[Velia Walsh]

Velia, Anslem. Why can't you call me by my name?

She pouted internally, but otherwise gave no indication of her being irked by his nickname.

However she turned to this man when he gave mention of "that" man. From prior experience with the man, though, she imagined that he meant the Innocenzo's capo, his alternate, she supposed.

Regarding that little Innocenzo boy, no doubt.

But what was this body language? What was he going to tell her that required such utter secrecy? Negotiation tactics? It was true this would be her first time at a significant negotiation, but with her set of talents? It'd be a breeze... Right?

She quickly finished the creation of her sandwich, sparing no time as she strolled out toward the veranda.

"Yeah, Mr. Aslem? What do you need?"

Or is he confiding in me something more personal? Not just private, but intimate...?

... No, focus! Focus, damn you!

[Anslem Aslem]

Anslem was not one to linger over food; his meal was nearly finished when Veila walked outside. He politely wiped his mouth, and sat back to enjoy the cool breeze. If there was one thing he could appreciate about Italy it was the mild climate; too bad it was full of spaghetti-fresseren.

“The Innocenzo capo while overly congenial is not a total fool. “ Anslem began as he poured himself a glass of his favorite beverage; strawberry schnapps. “I had to broker a deal with him regarding weapons. Namely one of each of our parties carries them. I’ve led him into thinking I will be the armed one, and that’s fine, I will be when we are doing the pat-downs and displays, however that’s when you come in.”

He paused to take a drink; his head was feeling muddled, too many hours awake and not enough alcohol to fuel him.

“You know I customarily carry two pistols, I’ll slip one to you when we sit down. The meeting place is at the Dai Baffoni restaurant, the tablecloths are long, if we are careful they will not notice. That way while I’ll be a decoy, you can be the true marksman if things go badly.”

He looked at her closely; obviously this was a great sign of trust that the capo willingly give up even one of his weapons. That would make his next statement all the more surprising.

“Of course this is not fool proof, I may be asked to give up one of the pistols, in that case, I will still give a gun to you. Then I will just be a decoy.” He gave a small laugh, wanting to downplay the absolute gravity of that remark. If Veila had ever doubted that Anslem saw her as just another soldier this would shatter it. He certainly never trust another soldier’s competency like this.

“Or they’ll pull the same trick on us, but that’s why we hired you for your deductive reasoning skills, eh Masque?” he asked with a small smile as he took another drink.

[Velia Walsh]

This... This level of trust. Even if the man was rather stoic, subtle body movements gave away his true intentions. He truly saw her as something special. A prodigy. But most of all, trust worthy. She felt her lip tremble at this realization. This man, this shell shocked, traumatized, war-torn man, somehow found himself able to place his trust fully and totally in her.

"Anslem..." She muttered, a tear forming in her eye as she stepped forward. Spontaneously, she wrapped her arms around him, more a reaffirming gesture than an affectionate one.

"Don't worry. I'll be incredible, the best negotiator ever. I'll make sure that it never, ever, comes to bullets. I'll have them eating out of my palm before it comes to that."

[Anslem Aslem]

What? What am I supposed to do?

It wasn’t that Anslem was horribly unfamiliar with women, he certainly had had his share of whores, and you did meet a few professional women in this world. This was different however; he had certainly never been friendly with one outside of what was necessary to getting access between the legs. This was certainly not the case with his recruit.

He tensed and put his hands up, blushing, and he had no idea why. Certainly he had been groped and touched salaciously before without a flicker of emotion, why should a hug be so scandalous? It peeved him, but he didn’t take it out on the girl. Anyone else he would have told to ‘fuck off’, but perhaps he simply didn’t want to destroy their relationship.

What relationship? She’s my soldier, and this is unprofessional! That thought roused him to gently push her away. He glanced around; as if fearful someone had somehow seen. Though what he was more aggravated about, this inappropriate albeit friendly embrace, or simply his blushing, wasn’t clear.

“I have confidence in you Masque, but don’t forget your rank,” the brush-off is said kindly enough, but it is what it is. He looked away to take another drink. I can’t let her think we’re friends, I can’t let anyone think she is more than just another face to me. It would be safer for both of them.

[Velia Walsh]

Somewhat defeated, she stepped back, looking up into his face, taking note of the blush.

Oh, so stupid! Of course he'd be opposed to physical contact, he's militaristic! He views me... As... As an underling. Right. I'm not worth anything outside of my abilities...

Her lip quivered, but otherwise, she remained firm, nodding half-heartedly. "Right. I won't. I apologize, Mr. Aslem."

A few more moments were spent in awkward silence. Perhaps the girl was holding some small hope that he'd take back what he said? That he would open up his arms and his heart and accept her reaffirmation?

It's no use. He's cut himself off. It's the only way he was able to protect his mind from the psychological traumas of war...

Her head sank, perhaps to hide her blushing form. "I... I really am sorry."

Sorry I can't pull you out of this. With time, perhaps...

[Anslem Aslem]

Anslem sighed and put a hand through his hair. Why did that hurt expression make him feel uncomfortable? As if he had never caused pain to another human being. As if he had not killed women’s husbands or maimed mothers’ sons. Still his social contact had been restricted to a professional level; he had never had a real friend in his life.

“It’s fine Masque, but in this world…appearance is important,” he tried to explain. It’s only for her own good. She can’t have any sort of idealism if she is to survive. “Emotional displays are weakness, even if you’re a woman. You can never let anyone know what you truly think.”

He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

“Just keep in mind who I am, your capo, and I can be nothing more to you.” You’re smart and bright, but I cannot be any sort of companion for you.

[Velia Walsh]

"Yes... I know. I apologize, again. I forgot my place. I'll not make such a mistake again."

Velia sighed, wrapping her arms around herself underneath the trench coat, perhaps to take the place of the expected returned embrace from her superior.

"Rest assured, I will have nothing but a professionalism at the meeting. This I guarantee you."

And with that she stepped away, turning away from Anslem and, slowly, returning to the kitchen through the French doors, their business clearly done. "Oh I'm sorry." She turned back around. "Is that all, Mr. Aslem? Or may I be dismissed?"

Hair covered her face, but the patches that shown through showed completely red.

I just need time to rethink my approach. Anslem, it's OK. I'll save you from this lonely abyss.

[Anslem Aslem]

“Don’t give them anything Masque, unless they can give us something of equal value,” That was his advice concerning the negotiations, and he knew the girl understand the stolid look in his eyes. It was nothing to them if that boy died, and to not forget it. Better to let Beyond or Xenophon have him then let him be used against them. He looked away after a few seconds however, this cruelty they must inflict upon other human beings; she had chosen it as much as he had.

So why had she reached for him?

“Dismissed,” he said simply, turning to face away from her, and taking another swig from his ubiquitous flask. This was all for justice, and a new world, only this, and he could never forget it. Love, friendship, brotherhood, they were all meaningless in a world where a small child could have his innocent mother taken away in another man’s war.

I still have so much to do. He thought remorsefully as he watched the sun climb higher.