[to be fair, Paris is far from the meeting place he would have picked, either. what scattered shards of MSF he'd been able to pull back together and relocate were still back in Rhodesia, and they were no longer effectively leaderless but entirely leaderless without him. sure, he had a line of succession set up, but it wouldn't last more than a week when he'd talked down two mutinies in as many months.]
[he's learning, increasingly, that the only reason these men ever listened to him was because everything he'd said before implicitly carried the weight of Boss' orders. without that, they don't regard him as a leader, not really. even if Kaz knows what to do, where to take them and the best way to ensure their survival, he's never been able to inspire people to follow him. right now, he has what amouts to a tenuous agreement of cooperation in the interest of getting their actual leader back, and he's doing his best to make it work. if it doesn't, he'll have to start resorting to other tactics, to manipulating them into seeing him as the sort of person they should be following. but hell if he knows how to do that, either.]
[so he's further from his people than he'd like, in a country he's only been able to navigate through a cheap 100-phrase guidebook and a whole lot of bullshit, looking for someone he shouldn't need to talk to in the first place. but at least he blends into the shady bar easily-- the neighborhood around the base in Yokosuka had been full of places like this, signs written in broken English promising the rowdy occupation troops cheap beer and sexy women, so in an odd way, the atmosphere's familiar. his attire matches the venue-- slacks, a distinctly 70s corduroy jacket and a white button-up rolled to the elbows underneath-- half a year ago, he would've opted for something much flashier, tried to impress the person he was seeing with bright colors and expensive accessories, but that's not really the impression he wants to give anymore. even so, he's still wearing his usual Rolex and Ray-bans, so the vestiges of the habit are still apparent to the discerning observer.]
[the man Zero's network of informants has led him to is supposed to be wearing a red beret and spurs, which is easy enough to pick out of the crowd. Kaz casually makes his way over, glancing around the room to get the layout of it. he's still not entirely convinced that this isn't an assassination attempt, either for him or for MSF back home. when he finally turns to speak to Ocelot, his voice is wrapped in a fake friendliness that doesn't reach his eyes.]
Hey, you've been here a lot, right? What's your favorite place to visit in the city?
[the first half of the arranged code phrase. Kaz may not be a spy, and his inexperience probably shows in the way he delivers the words, in English instead of French, but he's nothing if not good at acting, lying, and bullshiting his way through situations with less skills and knowledge than he actually possesses. so he's at least definitely convincing to bystanders, if not to an intelligence professional.]
no subject
[he's learning, increasingly, that the only reason these men ever listened to him was because everything he'd said before implicitly carried the weight of Boss' orders. without that, they don't regard him as a leader, not really. even if Kaz knows what to do, where to take them and the best way to ensure their survival, he's never been able to inspire people to follow him. right now, he has what amouts to a tenuous agreement of cooperation in the interest of getting their actual leader back, and he's doing his best to make it work. if it doesn't, he'll have to start resorting to other tactics, to manipulating them into seeing him as the sort of person they should be following. but hell if he knows how to do that, either.]
[so he's further from his people than he'd like, in a country he's only been able to navigate through a cheap 100-phrase guidebook and a whole lot of bullshit, looking for someone he shouldn't need to talk to in the first place. but at least he blends into the shady bar easily-- the neighborhood around the base in Yokosuka had been full of places like this, signs written in broken English promising the rowdy occupation troops cheap beer and sexy women, so in an odd way, the atmosphere's familiar. his attire matches the venue-- slacks, a
distinctly 70scorduroy jacket and a white button-up rolled to the elbows underneath-- half a year ago, he would've opted for something much flashier, tried to impress the person he was seeing with bright colors and expensive accessories, but that's not really the impression he wants to give anymore. even so, he's still wearing his usual Rolex and Ray-bans, so the vestiges of the habit are still apparent to the discerning observer.][the man Zero's network of informants has led him to is supposed to be wearing a red beret and spurs, which is easy enough to pick out of the crowd. Kaz casually makes his way over, glancing around the room to get the layout of it. he's still not entirely convinced that this isn't an assassination attempt, either for him or for MSF back home. when he finally turns to speak to Ocelot, his voice is wrapped in a fake friendliness that doesn't reach his eyes.]
Hey, you've been here a lot, right? What's your favorite place to visit in the city?
[the first half of the arranged code phrase. Kaz may not be a spy, and his inexperience probably shows in the way he delivers the words, in English instead of French, but he's nothing if not good at acting, lying, and bullshiting his way through situations with less skills and knowledge than he actually possesses. so he's at least definitely convincing to bystanders, if not to an intelligence professional.]