Kieran lounged beside the terrace pool of his penthouse, looking for all the world like a man who had forgotten that the rest of star city existed. A fluffy white robe hung loosely around his shoulders, the fabric soft enough to make him feel as though he had been wrapped in a cloud. One leg rested over the other while his hand lazily cradled an absurdly large watermelon cocktail, the drink so enormous that it bordered on being a novelty rather than alcohol. A ridiculous, curly straw disappeared beneath the mountain of fruit and ice floating inside the glass.
He took another sip through the straw, the drink making a loud pop when he finally released it from his lips. Kieran hummed along with the music playing softly through the terrace speakers, his attention returning to the folder resting across his lap.
The reports were, for once, good news.
With Brickwell out of the picture, Dre had moved quickly. The remnants of Brickwell's organization had begun folding into the Underpass almost immediately, exactly as Kieran had expected. Whatever loyalty Brickwell's people had possessed had been loyalty born from fear, money, or convenience. Once their leader was dead, there was little reason for them to remain divided from the organization that had already demonstrated its superiority.
Dre understood that as well.
Rather than wasting time hunting down every remaining member, he had offered them a place within the Underpass. Some had accepted immediately. Others had required convincing. A few had disappeared before they could make a decision.
Kieran couldn't blame them for that.
Criminal organizations were remarkably similar to water. When one container broke, the contents simply flowed into whatever space was available.
He turned another page, scanning the latest figures before finally closing the folder with a satisfied sigh. He placed it on the small table beside his chair and reached for the cigarette resting in its silver case.
The flame from his lighter briefly illuminated his face as he lit it, drawing deeply before leaning back.
"This is the life."
He exhaled toward the open sky and melted further into the lounge chair. The city stretched beyond the terrace, its lights glittering beneath the evening sky while the pool's gentle filtration system provided a soothing rhythm beneath the music.
For once, there were no gunshots.
No negotiations.
No assassins.
No desperate phone calls.
No one demanding a favor.
Just a drink, a cigarette, and enough quiet to make Kieran wonder why he didn't spend more time doing absolutely nothing.
He had no idea how long he remained there.
It might have been twenty minutes.
It might have been an hour.
Kieran could have happily remained in that chair until morning if the terrace entrance hadn't opened behind him.
"It's me, boss." Dre's voice carried across the terrace.
"Ughm." Kieran groaned sitting straighter, "I was having such a nice evening." He yawned picking up his drink and frowning at the empty contents
Dre laughed as he approached. "I figured you were."
"I suppose you've come here to ruin it."
"Nah. I got my recommendations for the branch manager positions."
Kieran immediately sat a little straighter, "Perfect timing."
Dre shook his head as Kieran held the enormous glass toward him, "Trade you."
"Jesus look at that thing." Dre took the empty glass anyway, laughing as he handed Kieran a stack of folders.
"I'll get you another one." Kieran accepted the folders and settled back into his chair.
Kieran opened the first folder, "Amanda."
He studied the photograph before beginning to read through her history. She had been with the Underpass since the early Gotham days, long before the organization had hotels, legitimate businesses, or anything resembling the polished operation it had become. During the gang war, she had been responsible for coordinating several groups of noncombatant members, keeping people supplied, relocated, and informed while the more violent elements fought across Gotham.
Kieran nodded slowly, "That's good."
He continued reading.
Amanda had also distinguished herself in Star City, helping organize operations and demonstrating an ability to keep people working together when circumstances became chaotic. She wasn't a fighter by any meaningful standard, but she had something Kieran valued just as highly.
People trusted her.
He looked at her age again.
"She's young, too. Good. She won't be looking to retire on me in five years."
The terrace entrance opened again. Dre returned carrying a much more modest glass.
"Sorry, boss. I'm not too good with those exotic drinks. I whipped up a vodka soda."
Kieran accepted it and took a sip.
"It's perfect. Thank you."
Dre nodded approvingly before taking the empty cocktail glass away.
Kieran turned back to the folders.
The second belonged to Darren.
"Show me what you've got, Darren."
Darren had joined the Underpass after the Gotham gang war and had distinguished himself through his willingness to learn. More importantly, he had come up through the original Continental and understood how the organization functioned from the ground up. He had spent considerable time training under Deadshot and, according to the reports, had taken every lesson seriously.
Kieran smiled faintly.
"That's useful."
Darren understood the hotel system already. He understood security procedures, guest expectations, internal hierarchy, and the delicate balance between hospitality and intimidation that made the Continental different from an ordinary hotel.
He was thirty-five.
Kieran shrugged.
"Hardly ancient."
He moved on.
The final folder was thinner than the others.
"Lenny," he said. "Len."
Kieran read more carefully this time.
Lenny had played an important role in helping acclimate the Underpass to Star City. He had demonstrated initiative, adaptability, and a willingness to take on responsibilities without waiting to be told. He was intelligent, resourceful, and, unlike Amanda, had some experience handling himself when situations became violent.
Kieran closed the folder and placed all three in front of him.
"So, Dre." Dre leaned against the railing overlooking the pool.
"Yeah?"
"Who do you think I should pick?"
Dre's expression immediately became more serious, "That's the problem."
Kieran raised an eyebrow.
"They're all good."
"Exactly."
Dre walked over and picked up Lenny's folder.
"I like Len. He's smart, he's adaptable, and he learns fast. But he's young. Youngest one we're considering, and that worries me. He could make mistakes because he hasn't been around long enough to understand the consequences of some decisions."
Kieran nodded.
"But you like him."
"I do."
Dre set Lenny's folder down and picked up Darren's.
"Darren's good. Really good. But he thinks tactically. Everything is a problem to solve, and sometimes I think he'd rather shoot a complaint than listen to it."
Kieran snorted.
"That could make customer service difficult."
"Exactly. He's got people skills to work on, but when it comes to security, he knows his shit. Deadshot's lessons stuck with him."
"And Amanda?"
Dre hesitated before picking up her folder.
"Amanda's probably the closest thing we have to perfect for the position. She's organized, people trust her, and she's been around long enough to understand how we operate. But she hasn't killed and I'm not sure on her ability to make hard calls."
Kieran leaned back, "So all three are qualified."
"Yeah."
"And you can't decide."
Dre shook his head.
"I can't."
Kieran took a slow drink from his vodka soda, considering the folders.
"Let me tell you something about Naima."
Dre looked toward him.
"Naima is one of the best fighters we have. Her tactical instincts are exceptional, she's adaptable, she's resilient, and the people under her trust her completely. If I put her in a room with ten armed men, I'd expect her to walk out."
Dre nodded.
"But if I put her behind the front desk of the Continental and gave her responsibility for fifty guests, she'd probably hate every second of it."
Dre chuckled.
"Probably."
"That's because the Continental requires a different kind of adaptability. Combat is simple compared to people. Someone shoots at you, you respond. A guest complains because their room isn't exactly the temperature they wanted, and suddenly you're expected to smile while they threaten to ruin your establishment."
Kieran gestured toward the folders.
"That's what we're looking for. Someone who can adapt socially. Someone who can negotiate, manipulate, de-escalate, and recognize when a guest needs to be reminded of the rules without making them feel as though they're being threatened."
He picked up Lenny's folder first.
"Len is too green. He's going to become something, I think. Give him enough time and he'll probably be excellent, but putting him in charge now would be asking him to grow up too quickly."
He set it aside and picked up Darren's.
"Darren is going to be useful, but you're right. He'd have a difficult time dealing with the more irritating aspects of the job. Give him an angry VIP with a bruised ego and I suspect his first instinct would be to solve the problem permanently."
Dre nodded.
"That's about right."
Kieran placed Darren's folder beside Lenny's and finally picked up Amanda's.
"Amanda understands people. That's what matters."
Dre frowned.
"I'm worried about her combat ability, boss."
Kieran looked up.
Dre immediately raised his hands defensively, "I'm not tryna be sexist or nunthin."
Kieran burst out laughing that Gotham accent came out strong!
Dre's ears turned slightly red, "I'm serious."
"I know you are." Kieran wiped at the corner of his eye.
"But you're right about one thing. Our managers need to be capable of handling themselves. The guests who come through our doors aren't always going to respect the rules simply because they're written down."
He closed Amanda's folder, "So we don't promote her yet."
Dre frowned.
"What?"
"We test her first."
Kieran leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"She'll spend some time training with you. Put her through the same sort of physical conditioning you put everyone else through. Teach her enough that she can protect herself and, if necessary, protect someone else. She doesn't need to become Naima, but she needs to be capable of handling a serious situation without freezing."
Dre nodded slowly.
"Okay."
"And Darren becomes her second."
Dre looked surprised, "You sure?"
"Absolutely. His tactical mind will be useful to her, and the position will force him to develop the people skills he's currently lacking. He can also take responsibility for training the security staff. That gives us two problems being solved at once."
Dre considered that.
"And Len?"
"Give him more responsibility."
"More?"
"Controlled responsibility," Kieran clarified. "Don't throw him into the deep end, but challenge him. Give him problems that require him to make decisions without someone standing over his shoulder. If he makes a mistake, we correct it. If he succeeds, we give him something harder."
Dre nodded.
"Let him grow."
"Exactly."
Kieran took another sip of his drink and looked out over the city.
"Eventually, all three of them might be managers. There's no reason we need to decide who has the most potential when we can simply give them opportunities to prove it."
Dre smiled, "Okay. Yeah. Let's do it."
Kieran leaned back into his chair, satisfied, "Good. Now go tell Amanda she's being promoted."
Dre turned toward the terrace entrance.
"And get her ready for training?"
"Tomorrow."
Dre paused.
"Tomorrow?"
Kieran smiled.
"Did you think I was going to let her enjoy the promotion?"
Dre laughed as he walked away.
Kieran watched him disappear into the penthouse before looking down at his empty glass.
He sighed.
"Another drink, then."
From somewhere inside the penthouse, Dre's voice called back.
"I heard that!"
Kieran grinned.
"Good, call Brock in here I want a pineapple drink this time!"