peggie vela's father is an asset that Rocket had been unhappy to lose. As was customary, however, they'd cut ties with their compromised asset and were awaiting such times as they might be able to pull strings enough to get the man released through legal means — let the public think the League corrupt, rather than worry about the implication behind some prison breakout. They were still reeling from Cotillard.

It gets Gavin's attention, then, when whispers travel up the chain that someone — not the man himself — was attempting to make contact with Rocket.

He intends to ignore her, at first. Children often sought any angle out of desperation when losing a parent to the judicial system. It's likely she knows nothing of their business and to reply in any manner would be to affirm the existence of something in the shadows.

"She's real persistent, boss," and that's what sticks with him.

He arrives disguised, dark hair and no glasses, contacts turning his eyes a soft blue. His tailored suit is neatly pressed, its jacket shed and somewhere out of sight. When Plank enters the room, she is greeted with the sharp-eyed stare of a man wielding chopsticks with a Barraskewda sushi roll halfway to his mouth. He lowers them as she enters without invitation, dark eyebrows vanishing behind his fringe.

"It's custom to await invitation after a knock," he drawls, slow; his deep voice conveys no hint of anger or annoyance.

She's terrified.

Like a predator, Gavin knows her fear — it's in her posture, stiff with her hands in her pockets. It's in the nuances of an expression that struggles to settle on something fierce and confident. It's in the beads of sweat gathering at her temple.

Good. She should be frightened. peggie vela knows not the lion's den she seeks.

"You waited for me." His smile is languid, dangerous. With his sushi roll set back on the plate, he tents his long fingers and leans forward. Amber eyes burn into hers. I made you wait. "You have my attention. Speak."

"Mm." He hums, amused. "Exactly."

He was not meant to be found. Such was the purpose of the middle-men who'd sent word up the chain that a young lass was sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

She ought to have stayed away. Rocket wasn't a place meant for the young. He'd seen what Rocket had raised jayden cross to be. Yet he could sense a fire in her spirit that resonated with him. Would he, at sixteen, have settled for the word no?

He thinks of his sister, then. Lulu Flint had been turned away from Rocket and found an alternative that was worse. They'd nearly killed her.

He and Chu-e Choi prized loyalty above all else. Rocket would be a family. This girl's father was a part of that family. He had not asked them to protect her; perhaps out of fear, or stubbornness, or whatever else, but he didn't need to ask.

"You want in," Gavin repeats, the corners of his lips curling. He stares her down. "In where, exactly?"

How much do you know, peggie vela?

Rocket.

What peggie vela does not realise is this: she has said the word that will seal her fate. She knew too much. She would leave this room a Rocket, or she wouldn't leave alive.

His expression barely shifts. Behind his glasses, his eyes narrow. That's what you are, right? It rung with a confidence different to her false bravado. The return of his smile is slow, light catching on sharp canines as he tilts his head.

"If Rocket was wiped out, perhaps they didn't want to be found."

Behind her, the soft click of an electronic lock can be heard.

She steps forward, and Gavin is conscious of the weight of his gun against his chest. He thinks about just how much time it will take to quick draw and fire it. He has long since learned to underestimate no one. She's small, likely quick; he'll need to aim carefully.

He doesn't draw his gun, merely watching her like a hawk might eye its prey.

"You'd insult your own father like that?" There's an almost playful lilt to his tone that's ill-fitting for the tense situation. "His leads are the ones that brought you here — yet even then, you know so little about me."

It was Gavin, in the end, who'd allowed himself to be found.

"If Rocket is so easy to find, why does everyone assume them buried? Think on it, girl." He balances chopsticks delicately between his fingers and, at last, pops the sushi roll into his mouth. He savours it as he awaits her response.

She steps into a trap. Gavin's smile vanishes, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"You admit, then, that his records are sloppy." He sets the chopsticks down gently. "I'll answer for you: Rocket remains hidden by cleaning up loose ends — sloppy operatives."

How will she react when her family is so clearly threatened?

"Rest assured, those records now lead to dead ends." The first step upon finding out that a route of communication is compromised was to eliminate the trail.

Gavin gives a sharp shake of his head. The deep timbre of his voice, once almost pleasant, now rumbles with command. "You will not burn them. You will give them to me, and I'll decide just how nightmarish they are."

He allows her a brief moment of hope, perhaps, should she recognize these words as a hint that she will be allowed to leave.

If realized, that hope may be fleeting. Gavin stands up slowly, straightening his sleeves and reaching for the suit jacket neatly tucked against the back of the chair. His eyes never leave hers as he shrugs it on.

"Unless they're on your person, we've got some travelling to do. I'll cover any expenses."