Doug, Cain - Friday afternoon

[x-juggernaut.livejournal.com]

Needing some help with the financial aftereffects of his encounter with Cameron Hodge, Cain enlists Doug as a combination personal assistant/chauffeur for the day. They take the Good Car.



Fiddling with his cuffs, Doug knocked briskly on the door of Mr. Marko's suite. He'd instinctively headed for the boathouse initially before remembering that with Mr. Dayspring setting up his nonprofit organization, there'd been a swap. As he waited for the door to open, Doug pondered. The large groundskeeper had mentioned he needed some help, and that Doug should dress professionally, for a meeting. Past that, he'd been somewhat close-lipped, and Doug was curious as to what Cain needed him for.

Cain answered the door, shrugging into his suit jacket. Nodding to Doug, he picked up a pair of sunglasses and placed them in his pocket. "C'mon," he grunted. "We're heading into the city, got a favor I need. You and your jabber language thing."

Doug's eyes widened minutely. He couldn't recall if he'd ever seen Cain Marko in a suit. But if there was a meeting, it made sense. Recovering quickly, he accompanied the larger man down the hall, hurrying his stride to match the longer ones Cain took. "So, what, am I supposed to be your personal assistant, translator, and general factotum?" he asked. "Does that mean I get to drive?" he added with a grin.

With a smile, Cain locked his door and headed down the hall. "Yeah. We'll take the nice car, then. The black one."

At that, Doug's eyes -did- widen in shock. "The Rolls?" he asked breathlessly. "I get to drive the -Rolls-?" he squeaked slightly. "We must be going someplace -really- nice." He paused. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"La Banque Suisse," Cain intoned, heading towards the garage. "I got some money to get back."

Doug restrained himself from continuing to repeat Cain in a shocked tone like some demented parrot. "Credit Suisse, right," he muttered to himself. "Um, you do have the account numbers and all that, right?" he asked hesitantly after a moment. "And I'm not going to need to hack anything, am I? I'm good, but I'm not -that- good," he admitted candidly.

Cain held up a folded piece of paper before tucking it inside his jacket as they entered the garage and headed straight for the car that no one touched. The thing was practically a museum piece. Walking almost reverently around it, Cain opened the door and slid carefully into the spacious back seat. "I ain't exactly countin' on being too communicative with these kinds of folks, if you get my meaning."

Doug didn't answer for a moment, sliding behind the wheel, closing his eyes and reveling in the field of old money. Turning the key in the ignition and hearing the gentle purr of the motor, he found he could totally understand why Mr. Summers was such a car junkie. Then Cain's words registered with him, and he tossed a puzzled look at the rear view mirror as he drove the car down the driveway. "Huh?" he asked inelegantly.

The only answer was a simple nod and a motion of two fingers, as if to silently say 'Drive, boy'.

Minutes later, on the freeway, Cain pulled out the paper to look over the numbers again. "Appreciate the help," he said bluntly. "I ain't used to all this high society stuff. And besides, I don't speak Swiss."

"Swiss?" Doug asked, doing his best not to snicker. You didn't snicker at a guy who could twist your head off of your shoulders like a bottlecap. "There's no such language as Swiss, Mr. Marko," he corrected the older man quietly.

"Then what do they speak in Switzerland, Ramsey?" Cain replied with exasperation, looking through the window.

"French, Italian, German," Doug ticked off on his fingers. "Well, there's Romansh, which I guess is as close to 'Swiss' as you get. But only about one percent of Swiss people speak that." He paused. "But Credit Suisse has a branch in Manhattan, and I'd imagine they speak perfectly good English there."

Cain looked over his sunglasses at Doug. "You're shitting me."

Doug raised one hand off the wheel. "Scout's honor, sir." His lips quirked. "...not that I ever -was- a Scout, mind you..."

"Huh," Cain said, resting his hand on his chin. "Well, you can still do the talking anyway. You got more patience than I do with the pencil pushing geek types."

And that Doug had no problem with believing. "Can do, sir," he replied cheerfully, already falling into what he thought of as his role: the prim, somewhat fussy personal assistant to Mr. Cain Marko. Maybe he tended to play things up in his head, but he was game for it.

Cain handed the paper up to Doug as they pulled up to the bank. "All the info's on there, figure we can be in and out before an hour?"

Doug perused the paper, flicking his eyes to it occasionally, then back to the road. "Assuming that everything is 'in ordnung', as they say. Swiss bankers are sticklers for having every I dotted and every T crossed. At least that's the cliche, but there are a reason cliches exist..." he trailed off, belatedly noticing the drawings in the corners of the paper Mr. Marko had handed him. "What the fuck?" he asked incredulously. He recognized those drawings. He searched his brain. "Er, pardon the language."

"Hmm?" Cain leaned forward. "It ain't missing something, is it?" He saw then what Doug was staring at. "Oh. Yeah, there's the bit where Hodge was bugfucking insane. But I'm betting those numbers are right, he was plenty lucid then."

Doug shook his head. "I've seen these sorts of images before," he said. The question was, where? And then it hit him like a thunderbolt. "Angie's diaries..." he whispered.

"Angie? What's she..."

Then it hit Cain as well. Cameron's ramblings. They made sense, for all of a second. He shook his head, opening the car door. "Hell of a coincidence, I suppose. Anyway, it's those numbers that're important. You ready?"

Doug didn't believe in coincidence anymore. At least, not where his girlfriend and her diaries were concerned. But he recognized a brushoff when he got one. Getting out of the driver's seat and hustling to the back door, he smoothed his suit and held the door for Cain. "Yes, sir."