10-24-2013, 08:41 PM
Reed and Shawn were quietly talking when Trano came out of the bedroom. Shawn swiveled on his chair toward Trano at the sound, but Reed glanced up only briefly before resuming her study of the device in her palm. He was pale and drawn, coming back down from the aftermath of the hectic all-nighter, but he stiffly picked himself up to make introductions. He offered to shake Trano's hand. "Shawn Escobar," he said. "You guys sure threw me for a loop last night." Then he pointed at the kitchen. "There's coffee and the rest of some pishki...russian donuts..." he clairifed, "or whatever Sam didn't inhale."
Nick rubbed painful eyes. If Shawn looked tired, Trano looked exhausted. Each had been working tirelessly, after all. Neither could possibly understand the toil it took on each. After shaking Shawn's hand he glanced at Reed and winced. "Sounds good. Any news?"
Shawn led them to the ktichen, which was only delineated from the rest of the room by a single-basin sink, grubby old fridge, and a few cheap cabinets.
Reed snatched her own coffee from its nearby table. Housed in a paper cup, it'd gone cold already, but she had no interest in shoving it in a microwave at the moment.
Shawn answered for her. "The two DPS agents in the video are known as Lorenz and Corvinis. Reed's partner is dead," he said quietly so Reed wouldn't hear. Abram's death had been hard on her, though she'd never admit it. "It looks like the plan was to sack your hotel room while you were locked up with the rest of the press corps. Abrams was going to help stage it all and shift the blame to the Chinese, who I've now confirmed also have a presence in the building following your friend Ke Si Chen around. When it comes to the media, they don't play well with others. Same thing was set to happen on their side, but blamed on the Americans. You see where this is going? Everyone would have bought it, and Brandon would have a splintered the tension a little bit wider between us all."
Shawn shook his head. That was probably the main reason all these news corps were here in the first place. He bit into a doughey pastry. White powder puffed up around his moustache. He continued while chewing one bite after another. "Have to wonder what the hell the Aussies are here for then."
He took Shawn's lead on keeping quiet about Abrams death. Lowering his voice, he asked the million dollar question. "So why is he dead, then? Makes no sense for Brandon to kill his own guy.
" He paused. "Still can't believe I thought he was the good cop."
Trano hit the nail right on the head. "That's what took me so long to figure out." He swiped his hands together and grabbed a second pastry that had the look of jelly filling. He took a bite and gestured that Trano had to try one of these.
He glanced at the pastry but shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks. Can't stand jelly."
More for Shawn, then. Trano looked back at Shawn. "But you did figure it out, right?"
"Come on, when in Rome?" He waved it off, "You know what I mean. Anyway, you blew the coop early," he hated to be the one to lay the blame at Trano's feet, but it was his fault. "The Kremlin contacted the DPS agents. Now that was a difficult transaction to follow." He shook his head at the hours of work it'd taken him even with Reed's insider links. "They accused Abrams of being in on your early-escape and double-crossing them. I have to admit, it looked bad for the guy."
"So they just killed him? Can't say I'm sorry the guy who was spying on me for Brandon is dead, but that's cold."
He looked away, an expression of regret flashing on his face. "So where does that leave us?"
Shawn agreed. "Due Process isn't in the CDPS manual. And Brandon's policy for traitors isn't to ship them to Guantanamo." Shawn licked the jelly from his fingers then swiped the rest on his pants. "You see what Sam has to deal with every moment of her life," he cautiously shot a glance her way. She got up about then and disappeared in the bathroom. No doubt to freshen up after restless dozing on the couch all night.
"Yeah. Guess I can't blame her for being so..."
He gestured. "Reed."
He changed the subject. "Any idea if their summary execution policy extends to us?"
"She's an incredible agent," he said to himself. But that was probably the sugar talking. He washed his hands off in the sink and rubbed his eyes. "Good question. After half an hour ago, I confirmed that they tracked the call between you and Jon. What was with that anyway?" He grabbed a towel and waved off the answer for now. "Jon was apparently at some not-a-strip-club called Kallisti's. It's owned by a chick that blackmailed a former government higher up out of his fortune." Again, interesting stuff, but he was determined to stay on point. "Actually, it fits in with our story well. You've been at a strip club all night about two miles from here. DPS scoped it out, bought it, and went back to headquarters after checking in with Reed, who vouched for you. I'm pretty sure she called you a pig." He looked apologetic. "The price of secret identities my friend. Anyways. The official story is you fired the staff reporter Abrams was playing over a difference of opinion. We don't know yet if DPS will insert another man in his place. Reed hopes not."
"Me too. Guess I can take comfort in the fact that if I don't win the election I'll have a hell of a book to write."
He rubbed his eyes again, he looked damn tired. "So when do we head back? And we need some real food."
"As soon as she gives the word. I'll of course be staying here." He cocked his head toward the computer set up, then looked down at the box of donuts, disappointed. "What do you mean, 'real food'?" He smirked, but something Trano mentioned prickled. He had to ask. "Did you really tell Sam you were going to sit on your ass and wait around for Brandon to die of old age?"
He winced. "Not exactly... Yeah. But I could have put it a bit more eloquently. We go to war with him we die. But we've got time he doesn't have."
Shawn raised his coffee mug. It said 'I heart Moscow' on the side. "Here's hoping."
Nick rubbed painful eyes. If Shawn looked tired, Trano looked exhausted. Each had been working tirelessly, after all. Neither could possibly understand the toil it took on each. After shaking Shawn's hand he glanced at Reed and winced. "Sounds good. Any news?"
Shawn led them to the ktichen, which was only delineated from the rest of the room by a single-basin sink, grubby old fridge, and a few cheap cabinets.
Reed snatched her own coffee from its nearby table. Housed in a paper cup, it'd gone cold already, but she had no interest in shoving it in a microwave at the moment.
Shawn answered for her. "The two DPS agents in the video are known as Lorenz and Corvinis. Reed's partner is dead," he said quietly so Reed wouldn't hear. Abram's death had been hard on her, though she'd never admit it. "It looks like the plan was to sack your hotel room while you were locked up with the rest of the press corps. Abrams was going to help stage it all and shift the blame to the Chinese, who I've now confirmed also have a presence in the building following your friend Ke Si Chen around. When it comes to the media, they don't play well with others. Same thing was set to happen on their side, but blamed on the Americans. You see where this is going? Everyone would have bought it, and Brandon would have a splintered the tension a little bit wider between us all."
Shawn shook his head. That was probably the main reason all these news corps were here in the first place. He bit into a doughey pastry. White powder puffed up around his moustache. He continued while chewing one bite after another. "Have to wonder what the hell the Aussies are here for then."
He took Shawn's lead on keeping quiet about Abrams death. Lowering his voice, he asked the million dollar question. "So why is he dead, then? Makes no sense for Brandon to kill his own guy.
" He paused. "Still can't believe I thought he was the good cop."
Trano hit the nail right on the head. "That's what took me so long to figure out." He swiped his hands together and grabbed a second pastry that had the look of jelly filling. He took a bite and gestured that Trano had to try one of these.
He glanced at the pastry but shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks. Can't stand jelly."
More for Shawn, then. Trano looked back at Shawn. "But you did figure it out, right?"
"Come on, when in Rome?" He waved it off, "You know what I mean. Anyway, you blew the coop early," he hated to be the one to lay the blame at Trano's feet, but it was his fault. "The Kremlin contacted the DPS agents. Now that was a difficult transaction to follow." He shook his head at the hours of work it'd taken him even with Reed's insider links. "They accused Abrams of being in on your early-escape and double-crossing them. I have to admit, it looked bad for the guy."
"So they just killed him? Can't say I'm sorry the guy who was spying on me for Brandon is dead, but that's cold."
He looked away, an expression of regret flashing on his face. "So where does that leave us?"
Shawn agreed. "Due Process isn't in the CDPS manual. And Brandon's policy for traitors isn't to ship them to Guantanamo." Shawn licked the jelly from his fingers then swiped the rest on his pants. "You see what Sam has to deal with every moment of her life," he cautiously shot a glance her way. She got up about then and disappeared in the bathroom. No doubt to freshen up after restless dozing on the couch all night.
"Yeah. Guess I can't blame her for being so..."
He gestured. "Reed."
He changed the subject. "Any idea if their summary execution policy extends to us?"
"She's an incredible agent," he said to himself. But that was probably the sugar talking. He washed his hands off in the sink and rubbed his eyes. "Good question. After half an hour ago, I confirmed that they tracked the call between you and Jon. What was with that anyway?" He grabbed a towel and waved off the answer for now. "Jon was apparently at some not-a-strip-club called Kallisti's. It's owned by a chick that blackmailed a former government higher up out of his fortune." Again, interesting stuff, but he was determined to stay on point. "Actually, it fits in with our story well. You've been at a strip club all night about two miles from here. DPS scoped it out, bought it, and went back to headquarters after checking in with Reed, who vouched for you. I'm pretty sure she called you a pig." He looked apologetic. "The price of secret identities my friend. Anyways. The official story is you fired the staff reporter Abrams was playing over a difference of opinion. We don't know yet if DPS will insert another man in his place. Reed hopes not."
"Me too. Guess I can take comfort in the fact that if I don't win the election I'll have a hell of a book to write."
He rubbed his eyes again, he looked damn tired. "So when do we head back? And we need some real food."
"As soon as she gives the word. I'll of course be staying here." He cocked his head toward the computer set up, then looked down at the box of donuts, disappointed. "What do you mean, 'real food'?" He smirked, but something Trano mentioned prickled. He had to ask. "Did you really tell Sam you were going to sit on your ass and wait around for Brandon to die of old age?"
He winced. "Not exactly... Yeah. But I could have put it a bit more eloquently. We go to war with him we die. But we've got time he doesn't have."
Shawn raised his coffee mug. It said 'I heart Moscow' on the side. "Here's hoping."