Koloman had never gotten a straight answer, but he was fairly confident White was the reason why he had landed the Spectra Lin contract. The two men got along well, considering their line of work, and while neither had any delusions of real friendship, both accepted the other was good at their job. If Koloman couldn't take a contract, White was his first suggestion.
Part of what made Pervaya so highly sought after was that they were less hands-on then other companies. Of course, that was because they were so preemptive about trouble. If they thought someone was fixing to take a shot at one of their clients, they would find the person and set them straight (or horizontal and six feet under) before it came to needing to jump into the line of a bullet bound for their client.
He shadowed Miss Lin on her daily errands, and made a point of giving the woman her space. She was a dangerous one, the sort that if crossed would see their perceived enemy destroyed. And he had little interest in being embroiled in that. He could see why White liked her. The two were of a kind in that regard, although White's hands were covered in blood, while Spectra seemed the type to have someone like Koloman do the work for her.
The day's photo shoot wasn't exactly his cup of tea. He stood a bit removed from her entourage, tired of being chastised by the photographer for getting in the way of his light, or disturbing the wind or whatever ridiculous bullshit the fruit had been rambling about, but more importantly, because Miss Lin's image did not include large, imposing bodyguards, and the image of his client was important. So he stood to the opposite side of the bridge, and watched the crowd that passed by and looking more like a guy waiting for his date then like a professional bodyguard.
It was quite the feat when a man as large as Koloman could go unnoticed in a crowd. He leaned against the rail, looking around from time to time or glancing at his watch, his Wallet, back to looking around. Too bored and relaxed to be a dangerous man. Of course there was the occasional glance Spectra's way; he was a man, after all, and the way she lounged along that narrow rail was impressive to say the least.
When the trouble finally stirred, it was not the sort that Koloman was there to counter. A simple accident, a ruined shoe and various shoot assistants panicking and rushing to her aid. Then there was a crowd, and Koloman stood from the rail. The people nearest him started in surprise, glancing up at Koloman as he strolled past and into the small crowd of sycophants and gawkers, but Koloman's gaze was locked on the man that was not one of her photographer's assistants, a man who nearly had hands on Miss Lin.
He elbowed past the photographer, and the yappy little man snapped insults at Koloman's back. Some people did not fair well in a crisis, no matter how imagined it was, so he would let the pansy little cameraman's insults go without incident. The fleeing assistant that had first come to her rescue was casually pushed out of his path; another one that apparently did not do well under pressure.
When he reached Miss Lin and the unknown man, Koloman's hand rested on the stranger's shoulder, his seemingly casual grip painfully tight, fingers pressing against the man's collarbone, and carefully eased the man back from Miss Lin. In most professional fighting circles, it was an easy grab to break free of, but a careful eye would likely notice that Koloman's other arm was partly raised, ready for a sharp jab to the stranger's ribs if he made any sudden moves to try and break free. The stranger was built for speed, but Koloman was larger, more solidly built.
"Excuse me, sir. Miss Lin needs a moment."
He studied the stranger's face a moment, having subtly stepped into the space between Marcus and Spectra, such that she was out of Marcus' line of sight and reach, but then cocked an eyebrow. A flash of recognition and he let go of Mr DuBois' shoulder. It was the American accent that confirmed it for him. It was the Ascendancy's newest Sigma that had swept in to save the day.
"My apologies, Sigma Marcus DuBoiss. Yours is a new face in Moscow."
While he might have recognized Sigma Dubois, there was no hint of concern in his features.
He of course intentionally mispronounced Marcus' last name. It would give Spectra a chance to correct him, and he could become a bit of a lightning rod for any animosity that was growing between the two in their former anonymity. He had no doubt she would realize who Marcus was once Koloman had said it, and that would likely check her attitude before she caused a scene. There were, after all, many witnesses about with Wallets and cameras, although Koloman made an impressive wall against those infernal wanna-be paparazzi's.
Edited by
Hood, Aug 29 2014, 10:04 PM.