Bonus Scene: Emily Piggot:
When she opened the door, the man had the gall to smile at her.
"Director," Anthony Hassan drawled from where he sat, pocketing his phone with a cold little smirk on his face.
She stepped into the room, a file under her arm.
"Is this the part where we begin the verbal barbs and the not so subtle interchanging of threats?" He asked with a throaty chuckle.
Piggot frowned, tossing the file on the table. It wasn't the first time she'd gone into a verbal fight with someone who used humor, it was however, the least common tactic in her experience.
"Anthony Hassan," She responded, deciding to get right to the point. " I did some digging on you."
"Only after I stepped on your toes, I see."
"I've been busy, as you can imagine," she said. "You're the one that decided to climb to the top of my particular shit list."
"And people say I've gotten out of shape in my old age."
She opened the file, reading out of it, or at least pretending to, she'd committed the thing to memory already.
"Military experience, got out and applied for law-school in your mid thirties, graduated three and a half years later, was arrested in teenage years for breaking and entering." She watched him carefully. "First wife's name was Aaradhya Hassan, murdered in nineteen sixt-"
The man's smile grew, interrupting her. "Time for the punchline? I've heard this one before. I'm afraid. Murdered in Nineteen Sixty four by Anthony Caldwell, known white supremacist."
"Who also happened to be your father," she pointed out, irritated at his lack of reaction. "Who was also reported missing three months after this event, hasn't been found since. Many suspected you had a hand in that."
"Oh my," he laughed. "Is this the part where you threaten to open up a decades old cold case if I don't become your yes man?"
"Perhaps." Emily frowned. "If you make it necessary."
He tsked, like a parent scolding a child. "Tut-tut-tut Director. A case over four decades old, in the current anti-Nazi climate of the Bay. This isn't exactly a case a prosecutor would be lining up to try. How many greased palms would it take? How many expenses can you justify in your budget meetings, hmm?"
She glowered at him.
She had been bluffing. But she'd hoped she'd have gotten more of a reaction than simple dismissal.
He smiled almost in answer to her thoughts. "This is an
old dance, director. And unfortunately, from where you're sitting, I have thirty years experience over you in the careful little steps."
"Fair enough," she admitted. "Then let me be clear. This is the part where I tell you that your… grudge against white supremacists is
yours, and yours alone. Ms. Hebert isn't to be manipulated by you to carry on any vendetta that you might have." She pulled out a sub-folder, tossing it to him, one that held every single case he'd ever tried as a prosecutor against white supremacists in the Bay.
Over thirty years experience with over two hundred eighty six cases taken against them.
One didn't need to be a psychologist to put two and two together.
"No, of course," he admitted with another of his enigmatic smiles. "She would be better off being wholly manipulated by you."
"If that's how you wish to see it," she said scathingly. "I won't argue the semantics with you." She then took a seat across from him. "The fact is the Protectorate's resources
are the most well-equipped and capable of dealing with her particular difficulties, your obstructionism prevents their full use."
He gave a single grunt that sounded like a laugh, looking at her with green eyes that glinted like flint knives.
"Piggot," he began. "How would you like to be my lawyer?"
Of all the responses he could have given,
that certainly wasn't what she'd been expecting. "What?"
"Well you certainly have the cutthroat nature for it, and the selective tunnel vision for your set goal. Your personality is a tad more unpleasant than most but there are many divorce clients who are looking for
just that mindset. Having gone to law-school or not, you'd still certainly make a better lawyer than PRT director."
She grit her teeth. "You're working an angle," she bit out ignoring the thinly veiled insult. "One that intends to utilize a very dangerous, highly unstable young woman."
"Not quite as unstable as you seem to think," he laughed.
"This is your
only warning," she pressed on. "Advise your client all you want, but step
one foot out of line and I
will tell her exactly what connection you have to the Empire. That won't go over well for you."
He took a breath, sighing through his nostrils. "No… I don't imagine it would at all."
With a smack of his hands onto the armrests, the old man stood, smiling down at her again. "Pleasant as this has been director... I'm afraid this conversation is done."
"Not quite," Emily said. "Tell me how you found out I'd called for Taylor?"
"Brockton Bay's economy isn't exactly
booming, director," he pointed out. "You'd be surprised how many are willing to tell an attorney his very sympathetic client is being called into someone's office for a minimal bonus fee. One could almost liken it to a civic duty. Or common decency." He smiled. "Now. If you'll excuse me, I need to have an important conversation with my client."
He marched around the table and walked right out the door.
Bastard.
(X)(X)(X)
My thanks go out to @Axel Fones ,@nitewind and @DarkMagyk for their work as Betas
As promised, a Bonus scene. It takes place simultaneously to 1.4. Expands a little on Hassan's background and motivations. Hope you all enjoyed 
One more Interlude that I'll try to get done this weekend before Dark Souls 3 hits and I'm sucked into the game.