"That's what we're going to find out," Malcolm says, making a flourish in the air with a tea spoon before turning to scoop loose leaf tea into a diffuser.
It takes, in Neal’s opinion, forever for the first meeting. Gil ends up getting Dani to go with Malcolm after he catches himself bring surveilled, but Neal, Ellen, and Peter all get to listen in and watch on the pen microphones in Malcolm’s breast pocket and the little camera placed in Dani’s top coat button. Both courtesy of Mozzie and better than the FBI could supply without turning heads.
“Testing,” Neal says, just to get his voice in Malcolm’s ear. “One-two-three.”
That makes Malcolm grin at the floor before glancing at Dani and composing himself.
Dani’s been dressed to pass as Malcolm’s assistant. She didn’t seem happy about that, but she is fine with Malcolm doing the talking.
Malcolm, who doesn’t really play parts, he just gets inside heads, offers his hand when they reach their mark. “Malcolm Bright. Nice to meet you.” He’s rich and a bit sketchy; they can check if they want.
"That's him," Ellen says, fascinated by the video on the little computer screen. "He looks so much like his father."
Neal reaches out to take Ellen's hand, quietly furious that this guy came after them and he dares to share air with Malcolm. Even though that's the whole point of the meeting.
The would-be assassin eyes Malcolm with interest as he shakes the man's hand. He's broad-shouldered, blond, and his suit is expensive and well tailored. Not perfect, and not effortless the way Malcolm and Neal tend to be. This is a man not used to polish trying hard to pretend that he is. "Dennis Flynn Jr, though I guess you know that already. Good to meet you too."
He gestures toward the private bar Malcolm met him in, connected to the distillery he's been building for almost a year. "Please, have a seat. What's your poison?"
The other man smirks a little, reaching for one of the highest-caliber bottles. Not the highest, but close.
Neal says, “Ask him if he’s saving the Yamazaki Single Malt for a special occasion. When he goes for a bottle, say not the twelve year, the twenty-five.”
Ellen glances at Neal, eyebrows raised. Gil seems similarly impressed from his place on an adjacent couch, but Peter, on Gil’s other side, just rolls his eyes.
Malcolm does as instructed and the would-be gangster takes down a different bottle, splashing two fingers into the glass carelessly, like he’s pouring water.
“Sláinte,” Malcolm says, tilting the glass towards him before taking a swallow.
Dennis Jr knocks back his own glass, squinting in what he manages to frame as appreciation. “Mmh. Amazing. You know your whiskeys.”
He tops off his own glass before adding an extra splash to Malcolm’s. A glance at Dani shows he’s not going to offer the assistant any, and she purses her lips, annoyed by everything but the lack of booze.
The man leans the small of his back against the bar and shelves behind him. "I'd have to hear more about what you mean before I could answer that properly."
“I need distribution,” Malcolm says, enunciating the word slowly, like he’s talking to an idiot. He gets up from his stool. “Look, you’re not really great at paying attention; I’m not sure I’ve come to the right place. But thanks for the drink,” he adds, tapping his hand on the bar and gesturing to Dani that they’re going.
Malcolm hesitates, then shrugs and returns to his seat gesturing for Dani to hand him his briefcase, which he opens on the bar, taking out a bottle of whiskey and setting it there.
"Okay, but this one's on me." He nods at the bottle. "Pour. Let me know what you think."
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“Testing,” Neal says, just to get his voice in Malcolm’s ear. “One-two-three.”
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Dani’s been dressed to pass as Malcolm’s assistant. She didn’t seem happy about that, but she is fine with Malcolm doing the talking.
Malcolm, who doesn’t really play parts, he just gets inside heads, offers his hand when they reach their mark. “Malcolm Bright. Nice to meet you.” He’s rich and a bit sketchy; they can check if they want.
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Neal reaches out to take Ellen's hand, quietly furious that this guy came after them and he dares to share air with Malcolm. Even though that's the whole point of the meeting.
The would-be assassin eyes Malcolm with interest as he shakes the man's hand. He's broad-shouldered, blond, and his suit is expensive and well tailored. Not perfect, and not effortless the way Malcolm and Neal tend to be. This is a man not used to polish trying hard to pretend that he is. "Dennis Flynn Jr, though I guess you know that already. Good to meet you too."
He gestures toward the private bar Malcolm met him in, connected to the distillery he's been building for almost a year. "Please, have a seat. What's your poison?"
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Neal says, “Ask him if he’s saving the Yamazaki Single Malt for a special occasion. When he goes for a bottle, say not the twelve year, the twenty-five.”
Ellen glances at Neal, eyebrows raised. Gil seems similarly impressed from his place on an adjacent couch, but Peter, on Gil’s other side, just rolls his eyes.
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“Sláinte,” Malcolm says, tilting the glass towards him before taking a swallow.
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He tops off his own glass before adding an extra splash to Malcolm’s. A glance at Dani shows he’s not going to offer the assistant any, and she purses her lips, annoyed by everything but the lack of booze.
“Is that why you reached out?”
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But he doesn't sound disinterested.
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Neal shifts in his seat, leaning forward a little, speaking in Malcolm’s ear. “Now offer him a taste of what he’d be transporting.”
It took the better part of a day and a half and an almighty hangover, but Neal and Mozzie pulled their counterfeit together.
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"Okay, but this one's on me." He nods at the bottle. "Pour. Let me know what you think."