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Stages
#21
Doggedly, Reed turned away from her reflection, and was more staring more at the threadbare rug on the floor than Trano's loafers, but soon the silence was screaming loud in her ears. Trano was far too talkative to stay quiet this long unless something was wrong. The guy had an endless motor.

Up the clean line of his clothes, she noticed a rather distressing look cross his face, like he were concentrating on some unrecalled memory, but there wasn't another moment to consider what had him so drawn. Something clamped down on her wrist and she was yanked to her feet.

Every muscle in her body tensed on instinct, but she was drawn as surely as if someone dragged her by the wrist across the room, until she was in arm's length of Trano. He was practically euphoric, like someone tasting their first shoot of heroin. In response to this violation of --- whatever, Reed's nostrils flared defiantly and she snaked a hand up under her skirt.

In a flash, a diminuitive .380 was in hand and pressed hard under Trano's jaw; not the best gun for a lot of reasons, but adequate for fitting beneath a woman's skirt. Since he was pinned by the dresser behind, and with Reed unable to retreat, she pressed into him, effectively pinning him herself, jaw clenched and eyes darting across his.

"Well that explains a thing or two. Unless you can do more than yank people around the room," she said sarcastically. Yet she didn't struggle to get away. Either because she didn't want to -- unlikely -- or she knew it was worthless to try. What she did know, however, was it was a lot harder to dodge a bullet when the barrel was pressed to one's throat.

That meant only one thing. Reed was already acclimated to the use of magic.
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#22
"Christ, calm down Reed."
He was a lot less scared than he probably should have been. "You've got your answer."


She flexed her trapped hand. "You going to let me go?"

He supposed it was a reasonable reaction. Now if only he could... "this is going to sound really stupid."
He gave it another shot, then winced. "I don't know how."


"Oh my god." She rolled her eyes and lowered the gun to her side. "Seriously?" She didn't even try to contain the laughter. "This is the epic warrior that has the Ascendancy turned inside out!"

He had to admit, it did make for a funny picture. She was standing there with her arm stretched awkwardly, unable to stop laughing, and he had no clue how to release her. But before he joined in the laughter he noticed something didn't add up. "You seem a little too comfortable with this, Reed. Don't tell me this is something you already knew about."


She gave him a look like he was a moron--or, at least, more of that look than usual. "A man at the forefront of all the news in the world, and you're going to tell me you haven't heard the rumors about him? There isn't a cleaning-lady in the Kremlin that hasn't heard the stories."

He sighed. "There's a difference between rumors and facts. What, if Bigfoot walks up you're not even going to bat an eye?"
He really hoped she knew more than rumors--otherwise he was still stuck at square one. It took several tries during the conversation, but he finally figured out how to dissipate the yellow wires coiled around her wrist. "There. Feel better?"


She rubbed her wrist and set the firearm aside. When she turned back, she shrugged. "Fine, Mr. Wizard. You're right. It's probably not real at all." She stared flatly, then pointed at her wrist. "That hurt."

If that was enough to hurt her, her laughter was misplaced. "Calm down, you're supposed to be a big girl. Now that I know I'm not crazy... you already know what he can do?"


Her eyes narrowed, "Do you?"

He knew a lot less than he would have liked, that was for sure. "Just that he's had sixty years to work this stuff out. I think we can agree that makes him pretty dangerous."


Of course, Trano could never be direct enough for Reed. "So how much do you know?"

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Until five minutes ago I thought I was going insane."


She nodded slowly. "Well. Now that you know that you're not. What now?" There was only a brief knock before Shawn opened the door, eyeing the two of them.

"Custody check-in bought his alibi. Abrams--they took his body."
Reed just nodded and told him to keep them informed. After being interrogated on what dinner was and when it would be coming, he made a hasty retreat.

After Shawn left, she pulled the thigh holster off her leg and set it aside. "Looks like we got a while." And she slipped off her shoes and sat once more.

"Good. We need all the time we can get. There's a lot you're not telling me, Reed."
He sat down next to her, and looked her straight in the eyes. "If I'm supposed to be the thing keeping Brandon from conquering the world I want some answers. I want everything you know--either agency--about... this."


That set her off. Or maybe that's just how she talked normally--sometimes he wasn't sure. "I'm not your informant, Trano. Ten minutes ago you were just another asshole and my job was to find out why the Ascendancy of the fucking Central Custody of Dominion wants you out of the picture." It still rankled a bit that she'd knowingly dragged him to enemy territory. "Now I know. And we can get on with our lives. Assuming we walk out of this building tomorrow."

"What about your little great white speech? Face the facts, Reed--this isn't going away. Ascendancy's not going to stop trying to take over and right now you're screwing over our best bet to stop him."


She met his eye, "It's not my call what and what not to debrief you. I keep you breathing. That's my job." She said it with a sense of finality, but she didn't try to leave. Reed was wavering.

He shook his head. "And if I end up killing myself because I have no clue what I'm doing--what then? Do your job, Reed. Tell me what I need to know."



Edited by Nick Trano, Oct 21 2013, 08:25 PM.
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#23
Reed was quiet for a few extra moments. Even for her, this was a lot to handle. There was a lot at stake, and her agency was putting a lot of faith in her to not screw it up. As Trano said, he was the best option at stopping the Ascendancy from taking over the world.

"Alright," she began, hoping that the decision came of her own free will. How had Trano gotten out of that room? Suspicion rankled, and she had a feeling she knew the answer now.

Trano was sitting closeby, but the guy was so tall that he still managed to tower over her. It rankled, but she didn't make a move about cowering away.

"I've seen him do similar shit, Trano," she gestured at the arm he'd magically captured, holding back a shiver. "CSS all know, and a few higher ups in CDPS. Hell, even some of his aids know, and..." she gestured with contained disbelief, "...probably every woman he's ever slept with," she nodded poignantly. Reed wasn't confessing to belong in such a prestigious club, but there were things people living in the shadow of power just knew went on.

"So of course I told my handlers at the CIA." She looked briefly overwhelmed. It had been an incredibly long and tortoruous briefing everything she knew about the CCD to the Americans. They were quite thorough. "What they did with the information, I don't really know. Only I hope it went all the way to Eagle. Understandably, I don't have limitless clearance, but there's nothing I can tell you to help you," she waved her hands around as though they were magic wands, "except, get better at it."

Nothing at all. "Besides practicing. Push yourself hard. Like you are trying to kill yourself. But you know... don't."
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#24
He was pretty sure she was telling the truth--although the fact that it was so difficult to get almost nothing out of her was more than a little annoying. She had absolutely nothing of use to tell him.

"Besides practicing. Push yourself hard. Like you are trying to kill yourself." She paused for a moment and looked at him. "But you know... don't." He laughed a bit at that.

"Didn't know you cared, Reed."
He started with a smirk. "So, any ideas? Aside from a few Klan holdouts I can't think of any grand wizards that'll be willing to give me lessons."
He doubted she'd get that reference either. "Dinner's not going to be here for a while."


She looked blank. "I have nothing." Then, after thinking a moment, she offered up something. "To be as good as we are, we are trained until no more room for thought, doubt, or question is left. You will accomplish your task or you die. So, all I can say, is push yourself until you're a hair's breadth from the edge. You have sixty years to catch up on."

"That sounds like it's a bit easier said than done--let's start small."
He searched the room for something to grasp. He had seen other wires with different properties, but the yellow ones seemed safest for now. "I'm guessing you're not going to let me drag you around."


Another flat stare. "Sure, start small. In sixty or seventy years, maybe you'll be able to actually do something by then." It really was nice to get criticism from someone who had no idea what they were criticizing. "Come on!" She wanted something spectacular.

He sighed. "Alright, hold on. Just don't try to shoot me this time."
It took a couple minutes' concentration--keeping track of time was hard when you were busy blocking everything else out--but he was able to seize the light again. "Ready?"
He asked, perhaps a little more coldly than normal.

At first he thought about picking her up, but he didn't want to risk killing her with ignorance. Or a few bruises after he let her down. He started to think out loud. "Why don't we find out what everything does, first?"


He sent yellow wires out and coiled them as closely together as he could. Eventually, he had a solid sphere floating in front of them. He did the same for the others--he had only discovered red, white and blue otherwise. In any other situation the coincidence would have amused him.

After some concentration and time, four orbs hung in the air. "Can you see anything?"


She'd been watching Trano closely, but at his question, she peered forward. "I'm not sure what I'm looking at," A moment later, she lifted a hand to sweep an arm through the disturbance. Her hand bounced off the yellow sphere and she raised an impressed eyebrow at Trano.

"So you don't see anything? I have four spheres floating in front of you, each a different color. Nothing?"


She took a long breath and looked back again, like she was maybe giving him the benefit of the doubt. Then she shrugged. "Maybe you are insane after all." She smirked.

"Maybe."
Maintaining a sense of humor was hard, but somehow he managed. He dissipated the spheres and conjured up more of the yellow wires. Perhaps it wasn't the most intelligent decision, but it was pretty satisfying when she jumped at the pinch. "But I'm pretty sure neither of us is dreaming, at least."


She had actually looked a little bit sympathetic until the sharp prick pinched her skin. She frowned at his comment but stubbornly refused to rub the spot.

A moment later, Shawn popped his head in the door. When he saw the two of them sitting on the bed he snuck an approving nod at Trano.

The good news was that nothing seemed inherently dangerous in and of itself. Maybe it was time to start experimenting with the other wires.


Edited by Nick Trano, Oct 22 2013, 07:42 PM.
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#25
Trano darkened at her joke. The guy must have really been worried about his mental health before all this. Reed's people-skills weren't the best. Should she try to take it back? Let up on prodding at this sore spot? Of course, being pinched wiped all thoughts of sympathy from her mind.

She was glaring at him when Shawn entered. His reaction to their posturing did not help her gleeful expression.

"You keep doing whatever it is you're doing." She said while she slid to her feet to go rummage through drawers, then the closet. When she turned up empty, she tapped her fingers on her hip, and stepped out. "Hang on a second," she told him, eyeing the air before him, and wondering if there was something there she simply couldn't see.

With that she ducked out. She was gone maybe two minutes. When she slipped back in the room, she waved a freshly refilled flask his way, and a satisfied smirk lit her lips.

"Get anywhere Gandalf?" She sat back in her former spot and knocked back a sip.

He was clearly surprised by the sudden change in her manner, but he didn't lose that distant expression. "Thanks."
It seemed in the interim, he had managed to work out something, because the flask ripped from her palm and landed in his lap sure as a kid batting another's toy away.

She crossed her arms. "You're welcome, but i'm not too worried. That's Lordanov vodka genius. Half that flask and you'll be passed out in no time, and I'll take it back. Or have my way with you."

He smirked and took a swig. "Doubt I could stop you even if I was stone cold sober."
After the drink, it took a little more concentration on Trano's part to float it back to her. There were a couple moments where it dipped dangerously close to falling.

So Trano wasn't dead inside after all. He was, however, clearly struggling with his shit. She snatched the flask out of thin air before it was dropped unceremoniously in her lap. She took a second sip and graciously tossed it back. "You need this more than I do." Not true, but if she got drunk every time she was inches from blowing a cover, she'd not accomplish shit.

After catching the flask and taking another gulp, he tossed it back. "I'm not so sure about that. You look like you could use a whole bottle."
Considering how much he'd drank already that night, it was surprising his words weren't slurred.

She picked up the flask. "You really want the person in charge of your mission here to keep drinking?"

"Why not?"
The flask floated out of her hand and hovered in front of her. "Magical powers, remember?"


"Oh well aren't you suddenly superman."

"Better. He didn't do well with magic."


She shook her head. "Don't be an idiot, Trano. After half a dozen attempts you can finally pick up something that weigh a couple grams by sheer thought. Congratulations. Let's go storm the Kremlin now."

He laughed. "Why bother? All we've got to do is hold out until he croaks."


She gaped, flashing angry. "Oh! Really?!" In a heartbeat she was on her feet, standing over him, hands on her hips, "You little shit. I thought there was fight in you. Wait till he dies? Since he looks like he's about to croak any day, fine. Let's do that. Let's wait around a couple more years. It's not like the last superpower in the world is about to fall into his hands or anything. Nah. This works out great for you. The USA probably won't even be around by the next election cycle. Your single white ass can keep your pretty little fanclub and not worry about a goddamn thing."

He looked puzzled. "And what's the alternative, we go to war? A war we're almost definitely going to lose--for what? The goal's containment--that's what it's always been."
He snapped out of the distant look. "Every dictatorship eventually fails. We go in and I will guaran-fucking-tee you ICBMs fly. So tell me--is it worth the world?"


So that was it. She was risking her cover, her life, and her allegiance so Trano could sit this one out. She more fully felt the weight of Abram's corpse drape across her shoulders. "Fine." She left the flask with him and went to the door. Now that she was leaving, it was obvious she'd locked it when she'd came back, because now she was unlocking it. "Brandon will be happy when he finds out you're already broken."

She left him alone while he sat there. She didn't bother to call him when dinner arrived. He could get up and check on it himself.
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#26
Well that stung.
He'd been with enough women in his time to know that no matter what he said, he'd just make it worse. Whenever you're wrong, admit it. Whenever you're right, shut up.
Wise words. He ignored the flask.

Fact was, going to war with the Custody would end with untold millions dead and no tangible gain. He'd essentially be sacrificing the free world for a grudge match. In the real world, Goliath crushed David every single time. He hated being David.

Instead of making an idiot of himself trying to smooth things over with Reed, he went back to experimenting. The discovery of green wires was a surprise. They seemed to resonate in some way with metal objects.

He wondered if he could project the--What do I call them? Forces? Flavors? Colors... elements?
--the colors in different shapes. He had only discovered wires, but perhaps there were other ways. As far as he could tell any shape could be built by cobbling different wires together but that led to quite a bit of complexity.

He didn't glance at the clock until he noticed sunlight shining through the blinds. Three balls of fire orbited in front of him, and he was pretty sure anyone could see them judging from the light they gave off. They wouldn't be as useful as a flashlight and if he wasn't careful it was pretty likely he'd burn the place down, but he was more than a little bit proud of the achievement.

He just wished he could find someone else with the ability. Brandon probably already had an evil apprentice or fifty, and he didn't want to even think about those implications. Unless I find someone else who knows what they're doing I'm not going to get very far.
He didn't have sixty years to wait.

That aside, Trano found it quite interesting how utterly illogical the application of magic seemed to be. He was able to--on instinct alone--effectively control someone's mind, but consciously he had barely been able to pick something up. He'd have to tell Reed about the mind control thing. To be honest he didn't trust himself with that kind of power.

He sighed and got up. His back ached, he'd been sitting in the same spot all night. He wondered if Shawn had found anything out. Reed had been so pissed off it was unlikely he'd get anything out of her. Still, he needed to smooth things over with her soon.
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#27
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."
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#28
As it turned out, the Custody bought Trano's alibi. He'd spent the night at an upper class strip club, and now it was time to head back to the hotel. He didn't know how they expected him to react to Abrams' disappearance--Reed was probably supposed to tell him that the man had been 'reassigned.'

It was pretty late in the day when Reed and Trano got back to the suite, and she was still angry. He got more words out of her than when they'd first met, but not by much. By the time she'd secured the room and ensured that there was nothing unexpectedly out of place, Trano was downright tired. He'd spent the whole day practicing out of sight of Shawn. Reed had probably told him everything, but he still didn't want to take unnecessary risks.

Once Reed left--probably to bring her Custody "superiors" up to speed, Trano nearly collapsed in his bed. Oddly, the knowledge that Abrams had been murdered in that very room didn't bother him much. Some good scotch and a lack of sleep probably contributed to that. He was still trying to figure out a name for the magical powers he'd discovered when sleep took him.

Continued in "A Friend in Need."


Edited by Nick Trano, Oct 28 2013, 11:43 PM.
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