"Because Alexander is, for the next two weeks atleast, something like your next door neighbour. He has rented a warehouse in the Docks where he's apparently recruiting local...talent...for his next step. I thought that offering you the job made sense since A) I wouldn't have to worry about getting weapons and personnel smuggled in and out of the country and I figured you among those having the good sense not to work with a bastard like him."
"Miss Illin'worth, we're in the business of insuring the future of Scotland and her countrymen. We don't like it when foreigners intrude on our birthright and we most certainly don't like it when then set up shop without tellin' us. Out of respect for who you are, we'll look in to the matter...but you have to appreciate the fact that we don't normally deal with anyone outside of the island. There's an old Scottish proverb me father used to tell me in matters such as these,
The worth of a thing is best known by the want of it.
"So, what's it worth to yer to be getting rid of this Alexander fella?"
"Five thousand Pounds Sterling to an account of your choice for checking the location. You have a look, then tell me how much you ask for the real job."
Shaemus sits quietly as Catesby looks over to him. He pauses for a long second, then nods at the offer.
"Agreed. It's a deal, Miss Illin'worth. I'll give you an account number for the transaction and expect the transfer to be done within 12 hours of your return in Edinburgh. For now, I believe the matter is closed and Shaemus would like to get back to bed."
Catesby turns to her bodyguard.
"Sean, please see that Miss Illin'worth has a safe trip back."
Current time on computer's clock display as Brian stares intently at the blank screen, nervous as pregant nun waiting for any sign of Jess. The video feed had gone dead halfway through the trip and Brian wasn't liking the silence one bit. Being no stranger to the long periods of solitude waiting for the one clean shot, this brings back memories. His momentary nostalgia is quickly set aside as the laptop screen comes to life with a familiar face. It appears that Jess has survived the meeting.
Onboard the boat
Jess' blindfold is removed, as Sean returns the knife to her. The harbor lights of Edinburgh can be seen in the near distance (maybe 1km).
As the boat moves towards a docking point with shore, the pilot calls out to Sean.
"Eh...Sean! 'ave a look over there! Port side, two-hundred meters."
The bodyguard retrieves a pair of NV goggles from a side hatch and has a look-see, panning about the designated area
"Shite!"
(Turning to Jess and pulling out a pistol)
"Miss Illin'worth, I believe we're in fer a wee stooshie!* Being who yer are, I'm supposing' yer know how to use one of these."
(Pulls the slide on the pistol and hands it to her)
Sean begins a reply as the sound of bullets whizzing overhead followed by the occasional popping of penetrated fiberglass. The bodyguard instinctively dives ontop of his client, taking one in the arm as two boats close in on eachother
*wince*
"Garrgh! Does that answer your question? Craig, full throttle...we gotta get to shore before we're cut to pieces!"
The boat lurches forward as the pilot goes wide-open on the engines. Two muzzle flashes can be seen coming from the enemy boat, their weapons apparently silenced.
Jess fumbles around for a thin piece of cloth nearby, wrapping it around her firing hand as an inpromptu glove. Then, she holds the gun over the rim of the boat's edge, emptying the magazine into the rough direction of the incoming fire.
Jess gets off two bursts before the recoil halts her barrage. The first trio goes over the incoming boat but the the second stitches a path on its bow, the driver temporarily taking shelter below the control panel.
The boats close within deadly range of eachother, the enemy vessel apparently attempting a broadside. Sean quick-draws a pistol from his gunrig, kneeling down for a good bead on one of the gunmen.
His first set strikes the boat's windscreen, shattering the thick plastic into bits. The second burst hits its mark, the gunman taking three to center-mass.
As the dueling boats approach eachother, Sean's pilot steers his vessel right for the other.
"Hang on to yer arses! This is gonna be close!"
The game of chicken comes to its breaking point as the opposing boat veers off at the last moment, getting its hull sliced open by the daredevilish manuever.
Craig the Pilot steers the battered boat towards the pier as Brian draws down and covers its approach.
The HMS Titanic is currently one man down and leaking like a sieve. Thanks to the flurry of gunfire provided by Jess and Sean, the lights and siren of a Harbor Patrolboat are seen and heard in the near distance. Not having an explanation for the their illicit firearms, the mystery boat and its remaining crew make for open water.
Jess and Co. arrive at the pier, docking in an expedient fashion. Sean quickly sizes up the situation as he looks up at the awaiting Brian.
"You! An educated guess would tell me yer with milady. Would yer be having a means of escape...preferably of the motor-vehicle design?"
Sean grimaces once from the pain of his GSW then again at the sight of his pistol spelunking down to the bottom of the harbor.
"Ach! You wasted a perfect good weapon, but dunno worry yer pretty face 'bout it. The serial number was burned off n' there's so much muck at the bottom you'd 'ave to dredge it fer a week to find anythin'. Now...(looking at Brian) let's make wit the goin'...eh Nicky?"
"Take care, Sean. And where I come from, half the guns don't see their second magazine before they're disposed off. One pistol isn't worth losing sleep over."
"I may not be rich, but at least I dunno 'ave a price on my head like yer. Good luck, lass...and from the spit-shine look of yer friend (staring at Brian), you'll be needin' everythin' yer can get! I suppose yer soon enough."
Sean shakes Jess' hand and gives a rough look to Brian before stepping back on to the boat.
"Alright, Craig. Do yer think yer can make it back without bushwhackin' another boat?"
Jess watches the boat depart, then motions for Brian to follow her. Still speaking with Samantha's voice, she starts up a conversation.
"Nicholas, I bring you good news. Ms. Catesby has agreed to my terms. Soon, we will have our revenge. Ah, you never know how many allies you can find when you really try."
Her innuendo is speaking a slightly different language.
Not sure if she fell for it. Go to alternate location and check for bugs before meeting rest of the team.
Brian gets the general idea of her message, but knows he's not nearly good enough to keep up with the banter for long. He quickly picks the role of the double-duty bodyguard/assistant, flavoring his voice with a light dose of High German accent.
"That is good news Ma'am. I will see that your affairs are in order for our departure. I trust the trip was not too uncomfortable for Ma'am, save perhaps for that little display at the end?"
Sean's boat tears off across the harbor and into the darkness of open water.
Brian and Jess leave scene and make their way into populated areas. They duck into a hotel lobby where Brian calls Carla. She informs him of her and Ayumi's "infiltration" into a sleeper cell residing just beyond the Red Rooster Inn. The two young fellows are most likely foot soldiers but they do have associations with McLaren.
The search for any sort of bugging/tracking devices yields nothing...which means either Catesby has some trust in Jess' story or is craftier than anyone thought.
Everyone meets up at the predetermined rendevous point, heading back to the safehouse. Ian is waiting at the door when they arrive.
"Good, you're alive and well, I trust? I heard about gunfire being reported at the harbor and half-expected one or more of you to be bleeding..."
Jess drops the knife sheath onto a nearby table, then retrieves the video bug from it.
"I don't know what's on it, but it should be useful. Catesby met me personally, so either her organisation is pretty small, she's not actually the head of it, or she suffers from the good old 'See the face of your killer' syndrome. I'd rather not find myself in the middle in case it's the last one, but it does come with the territory."
Jess pulls out her phone, speeddialing a certain number within the agency.
I figured you among those having the good sense not to work with a bastard like him." 
Gatac
