follow the money

   Ｒｅｓｉｄｅｎｔ  ａｃｃｏｕｎｔａｎｔ  ａｎｄ  ｔｒｅａｓｕｒｙ           Ｓｏｍｅｏｎｅ  ｈａｓ  ｔｏ  ｋｅｅｐ  ｔｒａｃｋ  ｏｆ  ｔｈｅ  ｍｏｎｅｙ.                 Ｌｕｃｋｉｌｙ  ｉｔ  ｈａｐｐｅｎｓ  ｔｏ  ｂｅ  ｍｅ

          “Less violent,”  Wesley echoes the phrase with a mild hint of breathy laughter that’s politely stifled, the young Watcher pausing as he allows for a few individuals evidently in a bit of a rush to move in front of the pair - the small crowd  (  a blur of well-tailored suits  )  that was increasingly growing by the set of lifts in the corridor is enough to deter anyone from venturing closer, the brunet instinctively veering in the opposite direction to head towards the stairwell. This was always a hazard after larger meetings, the kind that invited segments of varied departments to attend to raise concerns  (  whether they were heard or acted upon was another matter entirely  ).  He had been present merely to observe as opposed to make any formal complaints, hours spent in the Council’s archives in search of scripture eliciting a ‘break’ of sorts.

                    “Given the nature of our calling and the propensity for the dark forces to show a complete disregard for humanity as a whole, I think you’ll find that things may exacerbate before settling.”  A slow pace is adopted as they descend, a hand curling into Wesley’s pocket as the other firmly clutches onto a briefcase, brow knitting together a tad as his bespectacled line of vision flits back to the man.  “Then again, we do have alchemists on the Board. It may not be a viable resolution in the long term, but I shan’t think our monetary woes would be an issue in the near future…”

     It’s fortunate he supposes, the fact that the other man had the same idea as him upon the discovery of the lifts current state.  It meant they could continue their conversation without really having to worry about the others trying to join in or make idle commentary that he absolutely did not care for.  The walk to the staircase is short, but the decent less so, the hard leather of his shoes audible against the cold stone stairs, the echo they create wonderfully distracting for a moment.

     And then their conversation continues.

     “ They usually get worse, I’ve only ever heard of something getting better a small number of times, and that only seems to follow the worst of days. “

      With a deep breath Armitage lifts his free hand to carefully at his eyes, steps slowing on the stairs for just a moment as he does so.  There’s a deep sort of exhaustion set into him, something that simply rubbing at his eyes or another cup of coffee wouldn’t quite cure.  But at least the mention of artificially inflating their wealth manages to distract him from it, earning a little laugh in the process.

“You know full well that if I were to go through the official channels, I would be informed that you were unable to spare the finances.” But, considering that such a thing had not been the immediately response, Mycroft could only conclude that there were different factors at play than the ones that others would attempt to dismiss him with.

As he spoke, he took the offered notebook and began to glance over it - eyes dancing over the words and absorbing the details. Multitasking was a skill that he had mastered many years ago, the ability to take in new information while discussing a topic that was not always related proving itself to be immensely useful in his line of work.

“MI6 can handle the situation, but you know how it is - there are so many hoops to jump through in order to ensure we are no liable for anything that the public may potentially discover and declare morally repugnant. It takes time, and I do not believe that time is something that we have here.”

Mycroft had been willing to give his own people time to solve the problem themselves. He had even consider step in himself to do it! In the end, though, he had more important things to do than babysit people that should be able to do better. The situation was a troublesome one, yes, but it was far from the worst thing he was dealing with. His attention was required elsewhere, hence his desire to have Kingsman provide assistance.

“Now, if you believe this to be well within MI6′s capabilities then - according to what I understand of how Kingsman thinks of its own skills in comparison - you would hardly need to provide your best agents, hm? This would, of course, be to your advantage. If you turn to the 12th page in the file I gave you, you will see some financial calculations should this issue not be resolved. I may not know all of the details of your investments and whatnot, but I can decipher enough to estimate significant losses.”

      “ You’re right, I would say that. “

      Even if they were in a better position with their finances then they had been in a long while.  The habit of turning down initial prospects for them to come back with a better attitude and monetary incentive was built in deep and had served him well over his Kingsman Tenure.  Turns out people are willing to pay quite a lot more than they had originally planned when they needed something like a private and professional spy organization.

       Still, this was becoming a pattern of its own, going right to Morgana rather that Merlin or Arthur.  A sporadic patter, but a pattern still.

       With a deep breath Armitage begins his casual flip through the folder, gaze scanning over the information quickly to see what exactly was the worst thing he needed to look out for.  One investment here, a stabilization project there, and while he’d already been aware that the majority of these were in some small amount of danger, when he flips to the twelfth page he finds himself reaching for his drink once again.

      In the past 24 hours it seems the group had expanded exponentially, they’d taken in another gang in such a rapid overthrow that projects he’d hadn’t had to think about in years were now suddenly in danger.