What the hell are you doing here?

                                    

                                          
Chris
                          
Chris stared at her. The words, though unspoken, were clear on his face. What the hell are you doing here?
                          
For a moment Jenny stared back. "You're okay," she stated. Only two words, but Jenny's expression, too, carried a subtext of its own: what the hell do you think you are doing, putting yourself in danger like this?
                          
"This is Daryl, the hacker," said Chris. "Peyton here has the idea that you want him as a witness who can testify against the Yakuza operation."
                          
Jenny frowned. "We want him because of what happened to Travis."
                          
"Something happened to Travis?" The hacker's voice carried a lot more expression this time; he seemed genuinely surprised.
                          
"Travis? Who the fuck cares about Travis?" The gangster, who had remained by the hall, now moved closer to where Jenny and Chris were standing.
                          
"We care," said Jenny, holding her ground.
                          
The gangster turned to Chris. "You're talking about that beanpole who was with you the other day? Have you forgotten whose stupidity it was that got him hurt?"
                          
Chris raised his hands in a placating gesture, taking a small step back. When he spoke though, he addressed himself to Jenny. "And they know about the raid."
                          
"They do? How can they possibly know that? It was supposed to be a secret even from me."
                          
"None of your goddamn business," said Peyton. Whatever effect the drug had had on him earlier, there was little evidence of it now.
                          
"Look," said Chris, lowering his hands but still trying to maintain a peacemaking stance. "Let's everyone keep calm, okay. There are clearly some misunderstandings going on. But if we can just talk it through in an atmosphere of mutual respect, I'm sure we can clear things up and find an arrangement that will let everyone go away happy."
                          
Again the gangster looked at him like he was insane.
                          
Jenny's expression was not a lot more encouraging. "What have you got that they want?" she asked. "Surely they've given up that idea of you using me to infiltrate spyware into IntSec?"
                          
"Not that. Something else." Chris was looking at her with all the intensity he could muster, willing her to play along.
                          
"What happened to Travis?" asked the hacker, taking advantage of the brief lull. Nobody paid any attention.
                          
The gangster spoke next, addressing Jenny: "How did you know he was here? How do you even know where here is?" He looked at Chris, the beginnings of another threatening gesture. "You were expressly instructed not to carry any sort of tracking device."
                          
"I didn't. Honest. I was as surprised as anyone when she turned up. She's acting on her own."
                          
Jenny interjected. "IntSec has considerable surveillance resources. You must know that."
                          
"You mean you've put a watch on me?" Peyton was becoming visibly more exasperated.
                          
Jenny ignored him, speaking instead to Chris. "You still haven't told me why you are here."
                          
"I'm here doing what I have to do. What you can't do because of your job."
                          
"That's not an answer. And what's my job got to do with it?"
                          
Chris sent her a pleading look – let's have this conversation somewhere else – received no sign of comprehension in return. His feeling of exasperation rose. "Because I'm trying to arrange a truce. But I'm finding it difficult because this guy thinks you're here to arrest him. He thinks you want Daryl over there to testify against him. If that's true then everything we have been working on will fall apart. So whose side are you on? Are you with me or are you with the establishment?" There was no way Chris was going to say the word "Simon" out loud, but he couldn't avoid its echo in his own mind.