By the time that Connor had shown up, the whiskey had already started to set in and take the edge off. It was cheap liquor - what else could one expect from a pub on the grimy streets - and it would take several drinks to actually inebriate a person, but it served it's purpose, filling Jane with a slight, relaxing warmth.<br/><br/>Jane sat at the bar, her body turned at an angle to face Thomas as the two of them spoke, casually joking and making light conversation with the bartender, an stocky, moustached, older man who had grown accustomed to the pair over many similar instances. The man - people often called him Crowbar, a nickname Jane had yet to understand - had also grown accustomed to housing rebel meetings in the pub's basement. The lower room was just as shabby as the main floor, but it was a room meant for games and lounging. It was a useful disguise - if anyone walked in with questions, they could pass of the meeting as a round of billiards.<br/><br/>The circumstances were different that evening, however; after the previous night's downpour, the basement had suffered water damage, and the flooding hadn't quite subsided yet. Crowbar decided to shut down the pub instead, hanging a closed sign on the door while the rebels gathered. It was more suspicious, but there was nothing they could do about it at that point. Thomas and Jane had been the only people there that day, but as the evening approached, a few familiar faces had begun to filter in, and the other rebels took seats around the pub, waiting for Connor to arrive.<br/><br/>"Hey, old man." The door chimed once more as Connor made his entrance, followed by Levi, who had made a habit of trailing Connor like a shadow. The two of them walked over to the bar where the others were sitting. "Business is booming, I see," he joked. Jane made brief eye contact with him, and he half-raised an eyebrow at her, a silent challenge that asked, 'Got anything to say today?'<br/><br/>If one thing was certain, it was that Jane was anything but afraid of Connor. She had admired him at one point, idolized him, even, but she saw him in a different light now. Although he was smart, strong, and absolutely necessary to the rebel cause...he was also a hypocrite. No one else seemed to notice the irony, how backwards it was to consider murder as an option, but Jane saw straight through it. The rebels were a democratic group - officially, they had no leader, but everyone followed Connor's words, as readily as Levi did. She wouldn't be intimidated by him, though, regardless of how many condescending looks he shot her way. If anything, Jane almost wanted to thank him; she'd developed more of a backbone over the past month because of him.<br/><br/>Jane merely nodded in his direction as a greeting, then finished the contents of her glass in a single swallow. "What's the news today?"<br/><br/>"Nothing pretty, I'm afraid. You're gonna want another few drinks, I'm sure."<br/><br/>"Oh, I don't doubt it," she agreed, swinging her legs around the barstool to face Connor completely. Although the man was in good condition - his dusty brown hair was well-kept, along with the hair that lined his jaw, his casual clothing was intact, and the bruises were long gone from his body - Jane would never forget the way he looked that day, beaten with bloodshot eyes, like a wild animal. Every once in a while, she thought about the image and shuddered, and without fault, it was immediately followed by the image of the officer's bloodied face as she lay helpless. Quite often, she thought about what had become of the officer after her group fled - who knew what Vitcor had done. Given his track record, she was probably dead.<br/><br/>Jane sighed heavily. "So what's the deal?" she asked. "Tom here already said you need me for something."<br/><br/>"Right, right." Connor paused, turned, then raised his voice for the rest of the people in the room. "Today, we're here to talk about something that is absolutely crucial to this cause: the death of Victor Lavonne."<br/><br/>Jane had to blink a few times to process the idea. Around the room, a few people started to mutter hushed questions and comments. It was no question that Lavonne posed a major threat, and - as much as it bothered Jane to admit it - she wouldn't object to seeing him dead, but there was no conceivable way that their group of misfits could kill that man. They just didn't have the resources.<br/><br/>"It's come to my attention," he continued, "that rebels from different chapters have been disappearing, especially the newer recruits. I suspect that Victor is responsible, and...well, I'll just say from experience that you don't want to be alone with him, so I urge you all to be careful." There was unmistakeable pain in his voice when he spoke about Victor, but Jane was almost sure he was only using it to evoke a sympathetic response from his audience.<br/><br/>"All due respect, Connor, but how do you suggest we kill Victor?" Thomas asked, scratching the back of his head. "Don't you think he's a bit much for us to handle?"<br/><br/>"My thoughts exactly," Jane added.<br/><br/>Connor faced her again. "Well, Jane, that's where your expertise comes into play. We need...more information about him. His schedule, his motives, his weaknesses, if he even has any. Anything that can help us figure out how to eliminate him."<br/><br/>"Are you telling me that you want me to<i>spy</i>on Victor Lavonne? You can't be serious." Jane's words came out slightly rushed; she had meant to sound snarky, but a dark fear crept into her voice. If it were up to her, she would stay as far away from Victor as possible, avoiding the very thought of him and of what he would do to her if her found her, much less found her<i>spying</i>on him. "Connor, if you despise me that much, there are simpler ways to get rid of me."<br/><br/>"Listen, Jane," he said, lowering his voice. His tone grew soft. "I know we're rarely on the same page, but this has nothing to do with that. You're a competent lookout-,"<br/><br/>"How flattering."<br/><br/>"-and that's all I need you to do: to look out, to watch and observe. You wouldn't even have to get close to him. Just...think about how helpful this could be to the cause."<br/><br/>Jane rubbed her temples. He was right; Victor was an issue that needed to be solved, but they needed to know more about him before they could do anything. "Fine, fine. But where would I even start...?"<br/><br/>At that moment, Jane's eyes trailed away, her attention was drawn to the door as the chimes sounded.