<div class="floatright">(http://data.whicdn.com/images/12108300/large.jpg)</div><strong>Character:</strong>Danika Quinn<br/><strong>Location | Time:</strong>63 Wall Street, New York, Penthouse. | Sometime after 1000 hours<br/><strong>Attire:</strong>Cropped blk & wht varsity jacket & red hoodie, blk beater, pale jeans, blk sneakers, mis-matched multi-color socks, blk beanie<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>David | Open<br/><hr/>For a brief second she'd thought Oestreicher was going to launch into some sort of speech. Either rehashing the details she'd already heard or trying to play 'daddy' or wise old man or some such crap because apparently something about her tended to have males wanting to tell her what to do all the damn time. Okay, so she had a<em>slight</em>tendency to make decisions that others would consider "foolish" or at least "rash" but whatever trait it was that caused that particular quirk also tended to have her hearing that Charlie Brown noise for adults when people started launching into their lecture mode. So really it was a waste of time for all involved. And it would have set the two of them off on the wrong foot for sure so there was relief when the man took his seat and began to talk something other than the facts already committed to memory or "rules".<br/><br/>Remaining standing, Danika set aside the envelope and box in her hand and tucked her headphones into the top of her shirt, sliding her then empty palms into her back pockets as she listened. Admittedly the more he said, the more her little mask slipped so that her vagueness became genuine interest, a perhaps slightly devious glint filling her gaze as she gaze a little hop that had her facing him a little more directly. It was only comms of course but Danika liked getting her hands on new toys whenever she could and it was easy enough to ignore the part about not being in charge of them. All in all it sounded at least a bit more intriguing than finding blueprints. At least until David got to the end.<br/><br/><em>Gonna be the what for what now?!</em><br/><br/>"Whoa. Whoa. Hold on. On the first ... objective, thing, job, whatever... I'm just getting the blueprints for the rest of y'all, right?" She of course recalled that as well as the fact that he'd put her on locating the research data on site and off but she'd been imagining all that as tasks accomplished from behind her screen. The way he made it sound though... Her smirk dropped away behind a raised brow.<br/><br/>"Real talk... I'm good with my hands--you know, magic fingers--so the rest of it is easy, at least<em>in theory</em>. Probably a little more complicated in practice though. For one the security feed may not be accessible from offsite. Depends on how cheap whoever makes the decisions is of course. What I really need is a solid set up but unless you can pull some strings and get my personal computer, I'm gonna have to make due with whatever I can find for today." She tried not to pout over that. "Unfortunately that's probably gonna be some cheap ass WalMart reject unless you got some contacts that can hook me up." She did have some things tucked away but getting them today was out of the question. Not to mention there was a high chance it would be tagged and intercepted long before it got to her. There was probably a computer of some sort in the penthouse but unless she was mistaken she didn't want to use that unless there was absolutely no choice. "In all honesty the biggest help will be y'all capturing the target. Reading him will lead me to his research much easier than fishing around, ya know?" She tried not to wonder whether or not Oestreicher was thinking something different from her intended meaning of "reading him" and failed.