Though Gavin has previously scouted the bar from the outside, he's not yet stepped foot inside the establishment. Tonight marks the exception, the lithe blond stepping through the doors just as a young couple is leaving. Drunk and giddy, they pay him no mind, nor do the other patrons. He is quiet and unassuming as he approaches the bar.

The I.D. he flashes, brief, is for one Patrick Cavalli. His League identity, provided to him by one Seraphine D’aureville at Zev's recommendation. With Rocket's gradual disappearance from Hoenn's radar, he too has gone to ground.

"Whiskey, neat." Softer, that only Zev might here. "Back room available?"

He's here for business as well as pleasure.

Zev Harcourt

Gavin takes a delicate sip of the whiskey, relishing the burn in his throat. He takes the glass with him as he follows Zev down a back hallway and into a room that seems to strip the façade from Harcourt's face.

Good. He feels more comfortable with the assassin's truth.

His gaze flicks to the indicated door, then back Zev. "I came to discuss the contract." There's little doubt as to which contract Gavin refers to; on his last visit with the other, he'd only solidified the one. "We've heard no further activity from the mark. Might I assume he's been dealt with?"

The question seems to be mere formality, for Gavin lifts his drink in silent appreciation before knocking it back.

Zev Harcourt

Gavin's stomach turns at the thought of the victim's liquefied remains, but no trace of his discomfort shows on his face. He's seen worse in Kanto, done worse in Kanto, and if Rocket have taught him anything it's how to mask.

So there he sits, by all accounts the picture of a cold-blooded monster, and dips his head.

"You have my trust," he says with a flick of his wrist, "but our associates... well, you know how cagey they are after Blackwell."

There was a lack of trust among the criminal underbelly after Rocket had betrayed their leader, but what other choice did they have? Follow him down into madness and crumble from the inside out? No. Those who'd made the decision to bring him down had made the right one.

"He was smart enough not to leave much, but there was an encrypted flash drive on the floor of the hideout." They'd been careless, likely dropping it as they fled. "We were able to put out the fires before they reached it. Intel's working on it now."

As he was best friends with marcel maeda, Gavin has faith in him, too.

"Should we find any more names, they'll be added to the list." A list of traitors. A frown touches the edge of his lips; brief, but visible to the perceptive eye. "Your brother was on the list."

Zev Harcourt

Gavin's eyes narrow at the demanding note in Zev's tone, muscles tensing around the empty glass he still holds as if preparing for a fight. Instinct response. After pursing his lips together, Gavin seems to overcome whatever surge of emotion claimed him.

"Was," he repeats, deliberate. "I took his name off."

He wasn't supposed to do such things lightly. He hasn't been underboss long; he has the trust of Cadis, but how many others might question the alteration to their hitlist so soon after assuming office? He'd taken that risk, however, because Zev was a friend. The other man was likely, in Gavin's assessment, sociopathic and unable of reciprocating the same genuine emotions felt by Gavin, but you didn't need emotions for loyalty. That was the part he cared about the most.

"It'll buy time until you can find him, and we figure out what he's been through." A hesitant pause, then, "Cadis is different than Blackwell. He can be reasoned with."

Zev Harcourt

Gavin's muscles tense as Zev slams the glass down. A surreptitious glance is spared to the exit of the room, but it's only animalistic instinct that urges Gavin to flee. Logically, he understands that he's safe, and recovers with a deep pull of breath.

Some traumas never faded, no matter the years.

Nodding at the offered favour, he nevertheless assures him, "I didn't do it for that."

The rest is unspoken. I consider you an ally. Friendship might have been an impossibility with the other man, but loyalty was not. They'd had each others backs when Rocket had become an uncertainty.

"Have there been any new leads?" Somehow, he doubts.

Zev Harcourt

That isn't good. But Gavin doesn't waste breath on stating the obvious aloud; Zev knew as well as he did, and it wasn't a stretch to imagine he didn't want to be beaten over the head with the reality.

Instead, Gavin latches onto the hint of something actionable.

"It's not something I've had to look into yet, but I can." His duties have been a lot of damage control, so far, and not a lot of delving into secrets. "A friend of mine has taken up intel. If something can be found, he'll find it."

Gavin tilts his head, considering. "He may ask why I'm looking into it. How much do you want others involved?"

Zev Harcourt

Gavin inclines his head, understanding. "I'll say as little as I can get away with. I trust Maeda. If I want to keep something quiet, I don't think he'll push." They'd been friends for a long time.

Zev's trust does not go unnoticed, nor unappreciated.

"That's a good thought," he agrees of Seraphine D’aureville. "Do keep me in the loop. I'll let you know what I find, if anything... and if Rocket requires your services again soon, I'll be in touch." They would. They always did. Even with Silas dead, Rocket had bloody business that needed taking care of. No better than Zev for that job.

Zev Harcourt