Ingrams & Assoc 6: Downfall Ch. 01

There was more silence as everyone considered their thoughts on this. Talia was nodding intently, Megan was going slightly crimson from keeping whatever it was she was obviously bursting to say, - probably something not so nice about nerds, - and Jessica was thinking intently, considering the problem and April's solution.

"He has an older brother? Why haven't any of the other law enforcement agencies leaned on him? Seems like an obvious way in?" asked Megan suddenly, her other comments forgotten.

"Another good question," replied April. "It's because he hasn't spoken to his older brother in almost twelve years. They didn't part on good terms. Chris had a girlfriend at school who was never college material. He went to college, she did not. While he was there, in the first year, her mother died unexpectedly. Chris couldn't be there to 'comfort her'," April used air quotes, "and I'm sure you can see where this is going. He got a Dear John letter a few months later. His older brother, Mike, is still married to her, - they live in Atlanta. Chris hasn't spoken to his brother since. So yeah, no love lost there, and as a result, no leverage."

"Talia," said Jessica in an even voice after considering for a few moments, "do we have any idea how much putting on an event of this kind would cost?"

"Oh, I doubt you could do it for less than three hundred grand," replied Talia, in her smoky voice. "Probably more like four hundred. Maybe even half a million. Hard to tell. It's not an area of expertise for us. I could find out though."

Jessica sucked her teeth for a second, considering. She glanced again at Desirea, who pursed her lips and then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Can you look into that, and get back to me tomorrow? I can pass this by the client, see what they want to do. I tend to agree though, April," she said, directing the last comment back to April, "I think making him come to us is probably the only way to make this work. Clever idea by the way. Smart thinking."

She made some notes on a pad, then said, "Yes, I think this is the only approach. I'm going to tell them this is the only way we think we can do it. Either they want to spend the money, or we can't help them. Might have to round it up a bit though."

Jessica shared a smile with Desirea, and April mentally rolled her eyes. Jessica may be a first-class therapist, but she also looked after the bottom line more than diligently.

* * * * *

It took three days for Jessica to pass the plan up to the client, and the client to come back and approve it. There was budget for up to half a million, and then the work started in earnest.

April immediately co-opted Talia, because she was the local expert on the subject matter, and then started researching how you actually put on a convention. She was surprised to find there were actually companies who specialized in putting on conventions in other countries, - they weren't experts in the subject matter, but acted as a support network in partnership with whatever body wanted to put a convention on.

These companies handled all the booking of venues, ordering of audio-visual equipment for the days the convention was on, plus the handling of getting qualified people to operate that equipment, along with dealing with any union involvement that might be required. She learned of the advanced notice that was required for printing of things like banners, that were put on stage, to advertise sponsors, and badge printing, - and the organization of how badges are even gotten to attendees. She learned about how evening parties at conventions were organized and how most convention planners had sponsors for these kinds of events to offset expenses, because the difference in how much these events cost to put on, and the amount you can take in ticket were often inverted. So, sponsors were required.

After all that, she also learned exactly where the third-party conference organizers left off in terms of things they covered, - where she had to pick up the reins. Firstly, she had to make a bunch of decisions that she realized she had no business making, - how many days was the conference? How many tracks, - i.e. the number of talks that could be going on simultaneously. That would inform the organizers of how many rooms they needed to book, which would probably change the hotel they recommended, based on how many they could offer. How big would these rooms need to be? How many people in total could she expect to host? And what was the cutoff point in terms of maximum tickets they could sell? Who would be handling the lunch menus? Would there be an expo room for companies to display or sell products? If so, how big did it need to be? What would they be offering booth-wise to potential exhibitors?

Finally, while the third-party organizers would help corral speakers for this event, they had no understanding of the subject matter. Finding speakers and exhibitors for this convention, - and persuading them to speak and show up, - would be April and Ingrams responsibility. And that's where it started getting sticky.

April did her best, but realized early on that she wasn't up to the task of making these kinds of decisions. She delegated to Talia the task of finding actors and those people involved in the show that prospective convention goers would be interested in hearing from.

Talia also sub delegated, enrolling the help of several fan bases, and podcasts, notably a Canadian based pod cast group, named 'Gallifrey Underground', who knew more about the inner workings of the show than almost anyone.

They started organizing, - April liaising with a third-party group they hired to actually do the booking and sorting out of venues, and making the higher-level decisions, Talia attempting to track down actors and show makers, to offer them the chance to partake, and the 'Gallifrey Underground' guys acting as advisors. They were promised the position of MC of the event, and a free flight and hotel to partake, and they grabbed it with both hands.

It took almost eight weeks to even begin to organize, - April was astounded that they actually managed to get two of the principle actors, who had played the title role, plus multiple companions, one off actors, writers, even a few directors. She was even more amazed to find that most of the main actors didn't ask for more than a few thousand to appear, plus flight and hotel. They, apparently, made a bundle on doing photo ops with fans, at fifty dollars a pop.

Eventually, they ended up with three days of content, and at this point, the ticket sales went up on the Internet. And that's when April's astonishment hit all-time record highs.

They sold out in less than a week. Ten thousand tickets sold in less than a week.

When she checked with Talia and the contract accountant they had employed to help track everything, she found they'd actually made a profit. Not much of one, only twenty-five thousand, based on the five hundred-thousand-dollar budget they'd originally put in place, but with ticket sales and the four sponsors, they'd actually made a profit.

Jessica was astounded. The budget they'd been allocated was signed off, and as such, not refundable. Everything they'd made was pure profit. April had made a joke about "being awarded one hell of a bonus", to which Jessica had simply raised an eyebrow, and then walked out of the room. April wasn't going to hold her breath on that bonus.

On hearing that the convention was sold out, April immediately ordered a review of all ticket sales, to see if they could find Chris Morgan among the purchasers, but to no avail. She didn't really expect to find him in there, but it was worth checking anyway.

At this point, it was a question of holding tight, waiting for the extra six weeks to roll around, and the convention to begin.

April spent most of the time creating plans as to what to do if and when they located Chris Morgan. She couldn't be everywhere, and so they decided to bring in at least five other field agents to help out. Even Megan was tapped for a free trip to Madrid, pregnant and all.

They had to work out how April was going to approach Captain Morgan, in the event he showed up, and how she'd work herself into his life. April, Desirea and Megan spent hours coming up with multiple plans, but at the end, as April herself said, "It comes down to using the fact that I have access to the actors, and basically throwing myself at him."

April was good, she was a master seducer, and could manipulate the best of them, but this was a worrying situation, even for her. There was no guarantee she would achieve the goal of being able to insinuate herself into his life; for all they knew, he was now gay. Or already had someone, - chances were fifty/fifty he already did. Or was now celibate. There was a huge degree of the unknown, not the usual situation for Ingrams & Associates, who prided themselves on thoroughly investigating and preparing for the roll their field agents had to play in the unfolding drama of the lives they were inserting themselves into.

And this was assuming he showed up at all, and if he did, that they recognized him.

It was all very speculative, and April was more than a little nervous when the day rolled around for the crew she had assembled to load themselves onto a plane to Madrid, ready to put on a convention in a subject area they had little clue about, not counting the fact that they had no business putting on a conference in the first place. Three months from the day Jessica had laid this on her, to her little group boarding a plane for Spain. She was nervous that he'd even still be in the area, - they'd had no new sightings of him and for all she knew, he might be in Australia by now. But they had to go on the intelligence they had, and this was the best shot she had of finding him. She'd wanted the whole process to go faster, but had been assured that a complete conference from nothing to announced, booked, speakers organized, tickets sold and the whole thing ready to roll was nothing short of a minor miracle.

April had immersed herself in the Doctor Who Lore, - and there was a lot of it, - because if he did show up, she needed common ground, and was amused to find herself actually liking some of it. It was imaginative, inventive, had a strong moral message and enough humor to make her actually laugh at times. The Doctor was the alien we all wished we were, - more human than human. Someone we can never measure up to, but we would all like to.

April had prepared for the trip, - Max the dog was staying with his next-door neighbor, Kim Mcghee, - and she'd closed up her house for the two weeks, - at least, - that she expected to be away. She'd chosen her wardrobe carefully, - she had an entire section she called "Business Slut". Proper suits, with tailored skirts and jackets. But the skirts were just a bit too short. The blouses just a bit too tight, with necklines that were just a bit too low. It was wardrobe that screamed "I am a woman first, a business-person second," and that hinted at all sorts of late evening assignations. She needed to tempt Chris Morgan. The issue would really be fighting off the other people who would see her as available and approachable. April was experienced in letting people down nicely; she was just worried about how many there might be. She didn't want to be in a situation of fighting off nerds so she missed Chris Morgan actually showing up.

Once they arrived in Spain, they decamped to the Novotel, where the conference was being put on. It seemed like the best place and they actually had space and experience to put on an exposition of this type.

Three days later, most of the group had overcome their jetlag, and were deep in work, trying to be sure that everything was covered. The expensive printer they had ordered arrived, and they started printing badges. The idea was that the evening before the event started, - the Friday, - they had a party that evening where conference goers would attend and pick up their badges. This was by design, to force people to arrive and pick up their badge, meaning they had to show up in person. April had arranged it so there was one table with all the badges, and three people working it, so she could stand behind them and watch everyone as they arrived. It was a calculate risk that Chris Morgan, - if he was there at all, - would send someone else to pick up the badge; they had required everyone to provide photo id to make this more difficult, but if he'd sent someone else and used their name in the first place, well, they were out of luck. So much of this depended on a sequence of events being followed and it was all very iffy as far as April was concerned. But there simply wasn't any other way. They had to bait the trap and see if he'd come sniffing around.

The party was being held at Teatro Kaptial, a dance club relatively close. One of the sponsors was helping them defray the cost. It was suitably Doctor Who-y, - lasers, high tech environment. They'd even managed to track down a local who had a home-built Tardis Police Box, who'd loaned it to them. They'd put the box in front of one of the main doors, so people had to enter the club through the Tardis, promoting the concept that the Tardis was 'bigger on the inside than it was on the outside'. It was small touches like this, mainly from Talia and the 'Gallifrey Underground' guys, that made April smile. Occasionally, she found she was worrying more about how the conference was going to go, than the reason for it actually existing in the first place; she had to keep reminding herself that she was here to find Chris Morgan, and everything else was secondary to that.

It was a tense evening. A lot had been done leading up to this, - if he didn't show, April would have to spend the rest of the expo running around being everywhere at once, looking for him. She was the proverbial person in the dark room, looking for the black cat that she wasn't even sure was there.

To that end, the badge pick up was staffed by Megan, Talia and Steve, - one of their other male field agents, - all people trained to see through disguise like wigs, glasses and fake facial hair. They had no reason to believe Chris Morgan would do something like that, but he was a trained intelligence operative. You just never knew.

As it was, it was almost anti climatic. He showed up, in a leather jacket, looking barely shaven but with a twinkle in his eye. April noticed him first, and was struck by how much he actually resembled his photos. His hair was slightly shorter and had more grey at the temples than the pictures she had, but he had that same lopsided grin she knew.

April saw him in line, waiting patiently and rubber necking at the Tardis they'd set up, and discretely nudged Steve, who was running the line he was standing in. Steve looked up, saw her face and then announced loudly how he was desperate for the bathroom, and then he wandered off, leaving April to deal with handing out the badges. She knew Steve would go inside the doors, watching, and come back out again right after April had handed Chris Morgan his badge, ready to take over, so she could then walk into the party, hopefully alongside their mark. It was nothing if not meticulously planned.

As the line shuffled forward, April glanced up a few times, in between finding and handing out badges. She tried to make it random who she looked at, but three times she looked at Chris Morgan. The last time, she caught his eye, looking at her. There was amusement in them, and she ended up holding the look just a fraction of a second too long. It was a well-worn trick. A happenstance glance that lasted a second too long was a psychological inducement, - a message saying 'you are interesting to me' and almost invitation to contact. It said 'if you approach me, I probably won't dismiss you'.

He caught it, too. She could see that, in the microsecond before she looked away at the man she had to find a badge for. Just to hammer it home, right after she got the name of the man she was dealing with, she glanced back. He was still looking at her. The second glance was designed to confirm his own perception, - the fact it was so soon meant he had struck a chord with her. She looked away immediately their eyes met. That was meant to imply that she was interested but didn't want him to know she was. It was an invitation to flirt, basically. Now she had to hope he was interested.

It was all done in seconds, - an entire dialog of interest displayed, an invitation for further flirtation, and all done with just the eyes, head movements and to all intents and purposes, totally off the cuff.

Except it wasn't. April was skilled at what she did. She had all the tools at her disposal and she was very good at using them. But she kept reminding herself, this was a trained military intelligence operative, who was very much the target of a manhunt, and therefore he'd be on his guard to the max. In order to get close to him, she'd have to be as natural as possible. Generally, Ingrams agents are trained to find the good in the situation. If there was a mark to get close to, and they had to flirt to do it, they looked for the attractive elements of the target. Get genuinely excited and interested, so the flirting was natural and not forced. The hardest situations were those where, for whatever reason, the mark was not interested. Trying to get them interested was often a chore, and required more time than a casual meeting might give them, so they would try and arrange a second chance meeting, - although that would be as much as they'd do because more than two chance meetings are suspicious, so if they couldn't close on the second meeting, it was time to regroup. It's why Ingrams tried to put their agents into the life of the target in a way that there was more justifiable exposure than simply by chance.

April had done her research and worked up a profile of Chris Morgan. While she didn't have direct data on what he liked in particular in women, the other traits she did have information on suggested he would prefer a competent woman. Someone who was in control of herself and her life. Someone with their shit together, basically. He would want someone he didn't have to babysit, independent but appealing. She had no data of physical traits he might like, so she didn't overdo her makeup, and kept her hair simple. What she needed was a look that was more a hint that could go in many directions rather than a specific direction already taken. She could appear slutty, if that's what he liked. Or confined and closed, if he preferred that. She needed a look that conveyed everything; a look that encouraged the viewer to see what they wanted to.

She'd gone with a simple skirt, - form fitted so it showed her ass in the best light. She was wearing dark stockings, and they were hold-ups, not tights. 4-inch heels, cream blouse that was cut low and a frilly lacey bra, that could be just about seen from the neckline. Long earrings and her hair was down and free, and she had simple red lipstick on, - something brightly colored, - but nothing else.

Chris Morgan arrived at the front of the queue and April looked into his eyes more significantly, and smiled as brightly as she could, putting real feeling into it. And it wasn't hard, - Captain Morgan wasn't exactly hard on the eyes. He wasn't a pretty boy, no hard angles or pronounced cheek bones in his face. No piercing blue eyes, nothing to mark him out from the herd. He was a little unshaven, close cropped hair, brown eyes, spot on six foot, and, if her dossier was to be believed, one hundred and ninety pounds. He was a fairly close facsimile of Chris Martin, from Coldplay, but more filled out.

April's professional eye roved over him. Cheap converse shoes, black jeans, nondescript T-shirt, not too tight, so you didn't see the body beneath. Nothing about him to mark him out, exactly as you'd expect an intelligence officer to look, if you knew what one of those would look like. Entirely unmemorable. April suddenly realized this man was just as good at blending in as she was. His clothes were carefully chosen, even down to his shoes. The facial hair, even more so. He was Mr. Average, and just because of that, he wasn't.