Christine cocks her head at Merlin's question. "The fuck should I know, he owns his own business?" she says. "We don't meet the clients directly, it's all done through cut-outs. He's... he's just a checkbook, with legs." It seems unlikely that Christine works in Client Relations.
Harry bursts in partway through Merlin's monologue, grinning madly. He leans in close to the blonde and they have a whispered conversation before she abruptly stands and leaves while Merlin's still talking about ransoming systems. Harry eases himself into his chair and lets the computer wiz finish before he cuts in.
"Sounds like some real Lex Luthor shit you got in mind, there," he says to Merlin. "'A course, that's a bit beyond what we're typically looking to do here. We're not really into the whole 'one beeellion dollars' thing," he adds, pinky to his lips like a certain movie villain. He tears a page off of a legal pad and hands it over to Dizzy.
"Client's name is Noah Hanford. The client liaison gave me that, and the address there--it's an address for a storage locker he owns. That's all the info we have on him, but given the types of clients we cater to chances are there's something in there worth taking. Hell, we might not even bother asking him for our cash," Harry says, laughing.
Harry picks up his controller again. "See you when you get back. You need to transport anything big, just go to the U-Haul on 14th, we've got what you might call a standing reservation there. Just tell them I sent you." And with that, he goes from Boss Man to Party Boi, focused on his Xbox again. As the two men leave there's a crack and a hiss from a can opening up; probably ain't a soda.
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