10-19-2013, 07:27 PM
He really wanted to believe her story--it'd be a lot simpler that way. But she did join Custody intelligence first, and he really had no proof that she wasn't playing him. For all he knew, Abrams was the CIA agent and she was still Custody.
She continued. "But you could be a Great White. I'm going to make sure you live long enough to become the thing Brandon fears." She smirked, "though I don't see what has him so worried."
Grand gestures and statements from Reed aside, Trano had only one question. "So why did you do it? Where are you actually from?"
She backed away pretty quickly from that one. "That's not an easy question to answer, Trano." The look on her face told him it was time to shut up.
He wasn't going to be deflected so easily, though. "We've got nothing but time, Reed. I want to trust the woman who has the power to get me killed on a whim."
He crossed his arms and waited.
She just smirked. "It looks like you have no other choice." She turned and walked back to the couch, sitting down to watch tall-awk--Shawn
--work.
Silence stretched for a few minutes--during which Trano took the chance to lean against the edge of the counter and empty the last of Reed's flask. Finally she glanced back at him. "St. Petersburg," she said with more than a hint of a Russian accent.
After she gave the opening, he dove right on in. "So why did a Russian decide to switch sides? I'm pretty damn certain the pay's worse."
The list of reasons for a natural born Russian to defect to the U.S. was very short.
She fixed him with that challenging stare of hers. "Why do you think?"
Logic rarely applied in decisions like those. "Realize Nikolai Brandon's a bit of a bastard?"
It was probably something personal, and he didn't want to guess. Best he could do was draw it out of her.
His question scored a smirk. "I'm not a double agent because of his cute ass." Not exactly the response he was looking for. Still, at least she didn't shut him out; he could keep probing.
"Then why?"
Reed went back to her flat stare. "Look. I'm not going to divulge every state secret I know," she stood back up and crossed her arms, "But yeah. He does Stalin proud." With that, she walked over to Shawn. Either something important came up that Trano missed, or she didn't want to go any further with that particular conversation. Probably the latter.
Trano sighed and went back to searching the kitchen. It was going to be a long, boring couple of days. Maybe they've got something to drink.
He only got to search for a couple minutes before his wallet started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the number. Jon Little Bird. The hell?
He must have moved his contacts over to the secure wallet the CIA had given him. That didn't explain how Jon got the number.
It was probably a dumb risk, but he picked up the call. He'd been told the encryption tech on the CIA-issued wallet offered some modicum of safety."Jon? Hello?"
There was a slight pause before Jon's voice came through the line. "Nick Trano? I thought that was your voice I heard earlier."
Now that was odd--Trano had no idea how Jon got the number. "It's me, but I think you're mistaken. I didn't call you."
Which still left the question of how Jon got the number. Nicholas was more than a little surprised to be getting a call from him of all people--then of all times.
"You sure did just a minute ago."
Jon seemed pretty sure of himself. "I wasn't aware you even had my number. What's up?"
<strong>Son of a bitch...</strong>
He must have butt dialed him. I thought you couldn't
do that with a wallet!
He didn't think Jon heard the muffled curse. "Nothing incredibly interesting."
He sent a flat look of his own at Reed and Shawn. "I've been meaning to call you though. How's Moscow treating you?"
"It's enough to make you miss home, that's for sure."
Again, that weird slight delay. Maybe it was the phone's security. "I read that you were out here as well, that correct?"
He shrugged it off--probably the liquor. "Yeah. I've been given the privilege of accompanying Nikolai Brandon's propaganda team for a few weeks."
Jon chuckled at that. He knew how much Trano hated the Custody's press. Not that it was exactly a secret. "That's got to be fun for you."
"Not really."
He sighed tiredly. "I'm better at being the marksman than the target."
Maybe it was something in his voice--he didn't think he sounded that stressed, but there was a long pause. "Target?"
"Turn of phrase."
He decided there was no time like the present to direct the conversation away from that uncomfortable subject. "So, you get the chance to talk to Napoli again after you thrashed him?"
"No, I haven't seen him around."
Sadly, the redirection didn't work out. "You sound a little stressed--everything okay?"
Trano figured what the hell, Jon would find out about the "terror attack" soon enough anyways. He half-chuckled as he begun, "Just keep an eye on the news tomorrow morning."
He didn't notice Reed until she was right in front of him and looking like she was about to punch him in the face. "Look, Jon, I've got to go. I'll talk to you soon."
Before the call ended, Jon got most of a sentence out. "That doesn't sound too good... need anything, let me know."
He looked down at Reed. She was pissed.
Edited by Nick Trano, Oct 20 2013, 04:26 PM.
She continued. "But you could be a Great White. I'm going to make sure you live long enough to become the thing Brandon fears." She smirked, "though I don't see what has him so worried."
Grand gestures and statements from Reed aside, Trano had only one question. "So why did you do it? Where are you actually from?"
She backed away pretty quickly from that one. "That's not an easy question to answer, Trano." The look on her face told him it was time to shut up.
He wasn't going to be deflected so easily, though. "We've got nothing but time, Reed. I want to trust the woman who has the power to get me killed on a whim."
He crossed his arms and waited.
She just smirked. "It looks like you have no other choice." She turned and walked back to the couch, sitting down to watch tall-awk--Shawn
--work.
Silence stretched for a few minutes--during which Trano took the chance to lean against the edge of the counter and empty the last of Reed's flask. Finally she glanced back at him. "St. Petersburg," she said with more than a hint of a Russian accent.
After she gave the opening, he dove right on in. "So why did a Russian decide to switch sides? I'm pretty damn certain the pay's worse."
The list of reasons for a natural born Russian to defect to the U.S. was very short.
She fixed him with that challenging stare of hers. "Why do you think?"
Logic rarely applied in decisions like those. "Realize Nikolai Brandon's a bit of a bastard?"
It was probably something personal, and he didn't want to guess. Best he could do was draw it out of her.
His question scored a smirk. "I'm not a double agent because of his cute ass." Not exactly the response he was looking for. Still, at least she didn't shut him out; he could keep probing.
"Then why?"
Reed went back to her flat stare. "Look. I'm not going to divulge every state secret I know," she stood back up and crossed her arms, "But yeah. He does Stalin proud." With that, she walked over to Shawn. Either something important came up that Trano missed, or she didn't want to go any further with that particular conversation. Probably the latter.
Trano sighed and went back to searching the kitchen. It was going to be a long, boring couple of days. Maybe they've got something to drink.
He only got to search for a couple minutes before his wallet started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the number. Jon Little Bird. The hell?
He must have moved his contacts over to the secure wallet the CIA had given him. That didn't explain how Jon got the number.
It was probably a dumb risk, but he picked up the call. He'd been told the encryption tech on the CIA-issued wallet offered some modicum of safety."Jon? Hello?"
There was a slight pause before Jon's voice came through the line. "Nick Trano? I thought that was your voice I heard earlier."
Now that was odd--Trano had no idea how Jon got the number. "It's me, but I think you're mistaken. I didn't call you."
Which still left the question of how Jon got the number. Nicholas was more than a little surprised to be getting a call from him of all people--then of all times.
"You sure did just a minute ago."
Jon seemed pretty sure of himself. "I wasn't aware you even had my number. What's up?"
<strong>Son of a bitch...</strong>
He must have butt dialed him. I thought you couldn't
do that with a wallet!
He didn't think Jon heard the muffled curse. "Nothing incredibly interesting."
He sent a flat look of his own at Reed and Shawn. "I've been meaning to call you though. How's Moscow treating you?"
"It's enough to make you miss home, that's for sure."
Again, that weird slight delay. Maybe it was the phone's security. "I read that you were out here as well, that correct?"
He shrugged it off--probably the liquor. "Yeah. I've been given the privilege of accompanying Nikolai Brandon's propaganda team for a few weeks."
Jon chuckled at that. He knew how much Trano hated the Custody's press. Not that it was exactly a secret. "That's got to be fun for you."
"Not really."
He sighed tiredly. "I'm better at being the marksman than the target."
Maybe it was something in his voice--he didn't think he sounded that stressed, but there was a long pause. "Target?"
"Turn of phrase."
He decided there was no time like the present to direct the conversation away from that uncomfortable subject. "So, you get the chance to talk to Napoli again after you thrashed him?"
"No, I haven't seen him around."
Sadly, the redirection didn't work out. "You sound a little stressed--everything okay?"
Trano figured what the hell, Jon would find out about the "terror attack" soon enough anyways. He half-chuckled as he begun, "Just keep an eye on the news tomorrow morning."
He didn't notice Reed until she was right in front of him and looking like she was about to punch him in the face. "Look, Jon, I've got to go. I'll talk to you soon."
Before the call ended, Jon got most of a sentence out. "That doesn't sound too good... need anything, let me know."
He looked down at Reed. She was pissed.
Edited by Nick Trano, Oct 20 2013, 04:26 PM.