xp_logs | MIXTAPE: 'Centerfield'

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Minor league baseball parks were ignored by everyone who didn't live in the community. After all, who wants to come to a slightly shabby park in A ball to watch kids with a marginal chance to make the majors. But there they were, in the outfield bleachers in Fredericksburg, Virginia, at the Bank of the James Stadium that even Kane could explain the reasons behind the name. He passed a hot dog to Clint and slipped both Budweisers into the chair drink holders.

"So this is one of the dumbest FBI consults ever."

"Shit, I'm still shocked they asked SHIELD-through-Phil for a consult - what the hell? - and that he recommended me for it. I don't even work there anymore. Then again, maybe he didn't want to send one of his actual agents on this... thanks for the hotdog, man - so much chili..." He took a bite, savoring it. "Man, if there's a better way to spend a Wednesday, I don't know it - baseball, beer, and food... and sunlight."

"Hard not to enjoy it. Now, I know you've got enhanced sight. Was I correct that you can also read lips?" Kane said, remembering it from the file but doublechecking.

"Yup," Clint agreed, nodding. "Comes in handy - who'm I lip syncing for you?"

"The only set of box seats. The guy on the right, with the dark hair, is part of the five families of New York. He conducts business here because he knows we can't bug his box and he has people scattered in every game to check for people using binoculars." Kane said with a nod to the area he was pointing out. "He's conducting meetings right now and planning something... trying to work around Madam Masque's people. The FBI would like to know what."

"Gotcha," Clint said, nodding as he took a second bite of his hotdog. He chewed as he focused up on the box seats, finding a dark-haired man sitting with a light-haired one, bodyguards standing behind both of them. "Mm... pleasantries at the moment. The guy he's currently talking to is...

"Mr Blouch -- "

"Call me Lloyd."

"Nice weather -- "

"You didn't ask me here to talk about the weather, Bruno."

"No, no I didn't. Please, sit. I like that you're direct, Lloyd - right down to business."

"I don't like wasting my time, Bruno. There's precisely three reasons you'd decide to come to me."

"Look, I know everyone has settled into the new arrangement. No challenges. But I'm getting squeezed here. The Manfredis and the Libris are muscling in on trucking, the gambling income has cratered, and Tony keeps saying we don't have the men to hit back. Your sister is smart. She knows this kinda thing hurts the bottom line for her as well as us."

"Your business is yours to keep or lose, Bruno. Tony understands that. Why don't you?"

"I ain't coming begging. I got something to trade. You help me and I give you the name of a rat in the Nefaria Family."

"What did you say?" Lloyd and Kane said at basically the same time.

"You've got a rat," Clint continued parroting, elbowing Kane in the arm to keep him quiet. "Somebody's snitching to the FBI. Let your sister know and we can talk details."

"Lloyd's turned around - can't see his face, he's doing some vigorous pointing... Bruno's just smiling - definitely an asshole," Clint said. "Lloyd's pulling his phone out. Still can't see what he's saying."

"Shit. Clint, do they have a name?" Kane said urgently.

"Lloyd's handing the phone over to Bruno," Clint says, then motions for Kane to wait a second. "Miss Frost," he continues. "You help me, I help you - both our businesses stay on solid ground." He paused, muttering, "He's nodding to whatever she's saying. Looking smarmy as fuck at Lloyd -

"You give me a show of good faith, Miss Frost, and I'll hand you your mole on a silver platter," Clint finished. "No name," he said, directing it to Kane. He didn't take his eyes off the box seats, though. "Looks like they're discussing terms - what a good faith showing should be. Bruno's suggesting violence. Lloyd looks like he's gonna blow a gasket. Miss Frost's apparently disagreeing with Bruno - ah -

"You think pulling orders from the Manfredis and shifting them to non-affiliated businesses is going to be enough? What about the Libris?" Clint related.

For his part, Kane had already put a message into the office. They only had one decent mole in the Neferia Family, and it was time to activate his exit strategy.

"This is weird. This is the kind of thing that would go through Tony, not Bruno. He's playing with fire doing this behind his brother's back."

"Yeah... pretty sure Bruno's tired of being under his brother's thumb," Clint said. "His face is all over the place with microexpressions of rage - not to mention the whole... sidestepping Tony altogether thing," Clint offered. "Lloyd's pissed, too, but I'm not sure if that's cause Bruno wouldn't deal with him or if it's because of Bruno in general." He shrugged, glancing away from the on-going conversation for a moment. "You want me to keep monitoring him for the rest of the game? Any other meetings he might have?"

"We had some worries about our CI. Glad to know it was warranted." Kane said. He was about to tell him to keep an eye out but both Karnelli and Blouch got up and left, deciding to conduct any further business out of sight. "And that's that. Thanks for the assist, Barton. I owe you a footlong corndog."

"Fuck yeah, corn dogs," Clint said, grinning as he slouched down in his seat to finish his hot dog. "And no problem, man. My pleasure, foiling Maggia murder plans."

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xp_daytripper

Nice use of the part of Clint's skillset that doesn't involve shooting things at people, along with the reminder the Gar is an active agent for the FBI. The dialogue is so natural I could almost hear it in my head. <3