After ensuring Slate is securely knocked out for a couple of hours, Kage receives a notification of the Cleaners' arrival. He descends the stairs with purpose, returning to the hotel's foyer and reception to speak with the clerk.
The hotel foyer exudes a quiet charm. An old man sits in an armchair, engrossed in his newspaper. Behind the reception desk, an elderly woman meticulously organizes guests' mail into an oak wood rack filled with room keys.
Kage approaches the desk and hands over his room key. "Do you have any messages for 325?"
The hotel clerk shakes her head. "No, sir. The only message was about the briefcase that was delivered earlier. Did you want us to continue holding it?"
Kage replies, "No. No, I'll take it now."
"Of course, sir." The clerk retrieves a sleek silver briefcase from behind the counter and hands it to Kage.
Kage smiles, his demeanor polite. "Thank you. Also, a friend of mine will arrive soon, and he will be staying in the room for the day. I will pay for it."
The hotel clerk nods, accepting the payment and noting the name of the expected guest. She returns his smile warmly. "You are welcome, sir.
With the briefcase in hand, Kage turns and heads toward the exit.
Kage leaves the hotel, his footsteps blending into the hum of the bustling street. The city's energy is palpable, a constant motion of people and cars. A bronze-colored hydrogen-powered Ford Ka glides silently through the traffic, driven by a young Bolivian woman, Camille Montes. She spots Kage and smoothly maneuvers her car to the curb beside him.
"Get in," she says, her voice cutting through the street noise.
Kage, lost in thought, doesn't notice the car at first. "What?!"
Camille's expression hardens. "I said, get in."
He glances around, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Then, with a resigned nod, he slips into the passenger seat. Camille accelerates briskly into the flow of traffic.
Inside the car, Camille's tone is clipped. "You're late."
Kage studies her, searching for any tells. "I got pulled into a meeting."
"Who with?" Camille asks, her eyes briefly flicking towards him.
"A friend of Mr. White's," he replies, watching her reaction. She seems genuinely puzzled, unfamiliar with the name. Kage notices her purse tucked between the seats.
"I don't think I know him," she says.
Unbeknownst to her, a burly Haitian gang member on a motorbike is weaving through the traffic, tailing them.
Camille continues, her voice tinged with curiosity. "It's funny. You don't look at all like I expected."
Kage, without missing a beat, surreptitiously opens her purse and extracts an identity card. "Really? What were you expecting?"
Camille glances at him, her eyes narrowing. "I didn't think geologists looked so…"
"So?" Kage prompts, a small smile playing on his lips.
She ignores his question, her focus shifting to the rearview mirror. Spotting the gang member, she asks, "A friend of yours?"
Kage had already noticed the tail. "I don't have any friends," he says flatly, sensing danger.
At the next intersection, Camille suddenly swerves into oncoming traffic, threading a needle between the cars. The Haitian gang member curses, struggling to keep up as other drivers react to the unexpected maneuver. "Get out of the way! Move!" he yells, his voice lost in the chaos.
Camille accelerates away from the chaos she has caused, expertly swerving through the streets until she finds a small, secluded road to pull into. Meanwhile, the Haitian gang member searches frantically for Camille's car, combing side road after side road.
Once safely stopped, Camille turns to Kage. "We didn't settle on a price."
Kage, calm and collected, replies, "Make me an offer."
A slight gleam sparkles in Camille's eyes. "We can work it out later. Over drinks."
She motions to Kage to open the briefcase. As he does, she continues, "Dominic didn't give you any trouble, did he?"
Kage shakes his head. "No."
Camille rifles through an empty notepad Bond had given her, which was covering a pistol and a picture of Camille herself. "What the hell is this?"
Kage shows her the briefcase contents. "I think someone wants to kill you."
Alarmed, Camille thrusts a gun toward Kage. He quickly deflects it, and the bullet tears through the open passenger window with a loud crack. In the chaos, Kage leaps from the car as Camille drops the gun and speeds away.
Watching her drive off, Kage mutters to himself, "Now, I have to track her."
The sound of the gunshot draws the Haitian gang member, who finds the street Kage is on and pulls up alongside him. "You were supposed to shoot her," he accuses.
"Well, I missed!" Kage retorts, striking the motorbike's throttle. The sudden burst of power throws the gang member from the bike. Kage swiftly kicks him unconscious and grabs the bike, revving the engine and driving away.
As he rides, Kage pulls out the sleek, futuristic Stark phone, its minimalistic frame and transparent display emphasizing its advanced design. Activating its tracking features, he begins to trace Camille's car. The screen quickly pinpoints her location, and Kage speeds off, determined to catch up with her.