11-07-2022, 01:58 AM
[[OOC: Continued from Going Deeper]]
It was the next day before Jay was released from the Facility. He didn’t mind the poking and prodding, especially since it came with a shower and a clean kit. The doctors were pretty concerned with the scars from Placaso’s electrocutions, but once they figured out they had nothing to do with the undercity’s vermin, nobody cared. He debriefed the events of the mission factually. His weapons were confiscated for video-recorded verification, but Jay had little to turn over in that regard. The weapon he’d used the most was himself, and he was exhausted.
The car rolled to a stop and the driver raised his voice.
“Oy, mate we’re here,” he said loudly. With a start, Jay jerked awake, rubbing his eyes and practically climbed out of the car. He recognized the entrance to the skyscraper where he’d stayed before the mission began. The building was in downtown Moscow, a much more modern scene than the old world around the Kremlin. He didn’t so much as have a bag to carry so as soon as he was deposited onto the sidewalk, the car rolled away. The only thing on him was a wallet - still powered off as he hadn’t had the energy to bother checking messages yet.
He stood out as he crossed the hotel lobby. He wasn’t in uniform, which would have been the more preferable reason to draw attention. Instead, he wore plain slacks, a plain button down shirt tucked haphazardly in at the waist, and a plain black belt. It was like a prisoner being released to the streets with nothing but donated clothes. Not that he cared. He’d walk the lobby buck naked if it wouldn’t get him arrested, but he didn’t have the energy to put up with the barrage of questions.
He was stopped before he was half way to the elevator. You’d think an American in a hotel wouldn’t be an anomaly, but the Russians probably assumed he was a terrorist or some bullshit. They didn’t believe he was one of the Ascendancy’s Rods of Dominion, nor that he was came from the Kremlin itself. He was about to resort to powering on the Wallet and proving his identity when he thought to name-drop the guy he was supposedly here to train.
One mention of Adrian Kane and he was not only allowed entrance to his own suite, but an apologetic tray of food and drink was delivered shortly after. Normally, he’d jump head first into the giant serving of Osso Bucco, but instead, he passed out on the bed and didn’t intend to wake up for at least a week.
It was the next day before Jay was released from the Facility. He didn’t mind the poking and prodding, especially since it came with a shower and a clean kit. The doctors were pretty concerned with the scars from Placaso’s electrocutions, but once they figured out they had nothing to do with the undercity’s vermin, nobody cared. He debriefed the events of the mission factually. His weapons were confiscated for video-recorded verification, but Jay had little to turn over in that regard. The weapon he’d used the most was himself, and he was exhausted.
The car rolled to a stop and the driver raised his voice.
“Oy, mate we’re here,” he said loudly. With a start, Jay jerked awake, rubbing his eyes and practically climbed out of the car. He recognized the entrance to the skyscraper where he’d stayed before the mission began. The building was in downtown Moscow, a much more modern scene than the old world around the Kremlin. He didn’t so much as have a bag to carry so as soon as he was deposited onto the sidewalk, the car rolled away. The only thing on him was a wallet - still powered off as he hadn’t had the energy to bother checking messages yet.
He stood out as he crossed the hotel lobby. He wasn’t in uniform, which would have been the more preferable reason to draw attention. Instead, he wore plain slacks, a plain button down shirt tucked haphazardly in at the waist, and a plain black belt. It was like a prisoner being released to the streets with nothing but donated clothes. Not that he cared. He’d walk the lobby buck naked if it wouldn’t get him arrested, but he didn’t have the energy to put up with the barrage of questions.
He was stopped before he was half way to the elevator. You’d think an American in a hotel wouldn’t be an anomaly, but the Russians probably assumed he was a terrorist or some bullshit. They didn’t believe he was one of the Ascendancy’s Rods of Dominion, nor that he was came from the Kremlin itself. He was about to resort to powering on the Wallet and proving his identity when he thought to name-drop the guy he was supposedly here to train.
One mention of Adrian Kane and he was not only allowed entrance to his own suite, but an apologetic tray of food and drink was delivered shortly after. Normally, he’d jump head first into the giant serving of Osso Bucco, but instead, he passed out on the bed and didn’t intend to wake up for at least a week.
Only darkness shows you the light.