Operation "Russia with love"

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Satyr, Mar 19, 2016.

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  1. Dawn had recently risen, its warm rays reflected off Luis' helmet. He was on his way to the CIA headquarters on Langley. He had been driving most of the night, but he wasn't all that tired. As Luis approached he got in line to pass through the gate. Several Servicemen and women passed before he was at the gate. He lifted his visor as a SF, Security forces, personnel signaled for him to halt. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show his CIA badge. "Have a good day sir." The young man, perhaps in his early 20's waved him through. Luis drove on, the loud hum of his motorcycle's rpms increasing was the only sound the guard got in return.

    He parked in the lot outside the building he was to report to. Luis still had roughly an hour until he needed to be upstairs so he made for the food court. Once inside his first stop was the coffee shop; he ordered a large White Mocha with a few extra shots, a pizza bagel with egg sausage and cheddar, and a pack of chocolate covered espresso beans. He was expecting a long weekend. Luis sat off on the outer edge of the court, the uniforms avoided him.

    @LeRagester
     
  2. Damn it all to hell.

    Genevieve’s inner monologue was seldom so violent or enraged so early in the morning, but today was an exception. Well, somedays, if somebody tried to talk to her before her coffee, she did get this enraged. Surprisingly, nobody had yet provoked her. The staff knew better. Genevieve’s blue uniform was crisp, and admittedly the only outfit she bothered to straighten. However, the neck up seemed to be a storm of controlled rage. Genevieve’s lips were pressed in a firm line, her hair was tightly pulled back, and her dark eyebrows were furrowed in a v of unparalleled loathing.

    Parking duty.

    Insubordination was a bitch. Genevieve angrily shoved past the front doors into the parking lot. As a veteran, the tough woman was furious. Pretty, surprisingly, but furious. Being saddled with menial tasks as punishment was humiliating. Seething inwardly, Genevieve’s normal ferocity was heightened. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be out for blood - instead, she was out for lazy drivers, her newest victims. Vehicles and their owners would be the true ones to suffer.

    Stalking the parking lot, Genevieve sought out a victim. What could she ticket…. taking a handicap slot? Double parking? Parking like an asshole? Broken lights, expired tabs? Scouring the parking lot, Genevieve impatiently clicked a pen, till she found her first victim: a motorcycle. Checking her clipboard, Genevieve gleefully found that the victimized vehicle was a guest. Not only that, but the tabs had expired. Somewhat satisfied, she slapped a ticket onto the seat, eyeing the motorcycle with begrudging admiration. After doing a few more rounds and ticketing a few more unlucky bastards, Genevieve entered the building she’d exited from in a slightly better mood, pocketing her pen with a whistle.
     
  3. Luis lifted his head at the faint sound of mechanical parts moving, a familiar sound. "Well I'll be damned, Genevieve it's been a long time. Come join me for some coffee!" He hadn't moved from his seat so all the airmen were looking at him funny. Luis took note of their looks and replied, "What? Am I covered in fur or something?" It was rude, he was well aware of that.
     
  4. Startled, Genevieve turned, confused and slightly thunderous. Nobody ever called her by her first name, not without getting a good smack upside the head. Moreover, she was addressed as “Miss Gunner” or “Lieutenant Gunner”. She had earned respect, and the underlings had suffered enough to remember it. Who dared to call her by that name, in her own temple of terror?

    Letting her eyes ferociously rake the scattered officers - a few shivered in confused fright - Genevieve looked for the offender. Within a second, she saw one of the few men not trembling in the room…. a familiar face. Scowling ruthlessly, Genevieve’s brows ceased to furrow, and she looked genuinely surprised. For a moment, she blinked at the familiar man, much less scary when she didn’t have a murderous expression.

    “Well, I’ll be damned!”

    Briskly, the intimidating woman approached Luis’ table, clearly much more at ease. It was good to see an old friend, especially as Genevieve had few to begin with, much less ones she’d got to keep over the years. With a quick, wry smile, Genevieve scoffed at Luis, gesturing dramatically to his coffee. “If I knew you were such a cheapskate, I would’ve demanded that you buy better coffee before dragging myself over here.” The woman seemed gruff, but it was unusual for her sense of humor to show.

    Truthfully, she was just glad to see him.
     
  5. "Had I known I was going to run into you I'd have bought more." He replied, his traditional left sided smirk plastered on his lips. Truth be told he hadn't the slightest clue she was military, or at least he didn't remember she was. Luis passed his cup over to her, he had only a few sips of it so it was still relatively full. He looked at her hands and for a moment, glancing at the metallic one he cringed. "Sorry that was rude, I'm just remembering the sore jaw and missing teeth. Oh they grew back, just so you know." He smiled to show the teeth that had once been missing. Realizing his helmet was on her side of the table he moved it.

    Luis glanced around the room, most of the enlisted seemed to have disappeared leaving only a few officers remaining. Those that remained outranked Genevieve by a few ranks, but they seemed more interested in their breakfast and coffee then a conversation between a "Spook" an a low ranking officer.
     
  6. Genevieve rolled her eyes, both unimpressed and grateful. However, she accepted his peace offering of caffeinated crap, more out of politeness than greed. The coffee offered here was terrible, but hey, it was a gift from Luis: free. That was the biggest preference for Genevieve, even over flavor. Free crap trumped tasteful, expensive crap. Unless it was cheese. Genevieve knew better than to be cheap about certain food products.

    Noticing his wince, the hardened woman shrugged. She did a good job of hiding her mild satisfaction. She fondly remembered beating the crap out of this man. At least for Genevieve, she’d chalked it up as a moment of surprising bonding. “I would’ve only accepted if it were from somewhere better,” she noted. Despite her apparent dislike, she took a sip of the coffee before it could be reclaimed, impervious to the heat it gave off due to her metal hand. Losing a limb had some unusual perks.

    Casting a glance at Luis’ teeth, Genevieve nodded shamelessly. “I figured they would,” she admitted casually, pulling a piece of hair away from the coffee cup before it could contaminate the entire beverage. “Since you didn’t die, and all.” she added with a nonchalant shrug. To be fair, he’d also bitten her. Or tried to. If he had, he’d probably lost a few more teeth than what was necessary. Eyeing the helmet, Genevieve’s brows furrowed again, and she suddenly lost her youth. “You ride a motorcycle?
     
  7. Luis laughed and shook his head, clearly something had amused him. He had decided not to share it however due to location, and he didn't need to lose any more teeth...or have a limp jaw for a few days. Looking back up he still appeared to be amused. "What can I say, I like the wind in my hair. Yes yes I know, how very dog of me. Why do you ask though? You look like you've just kicked a small animal." He didn't seem to make the connection that she had just entered the building from outside... From the parking lot.

    Luis suddenly got a phantom itch, right where his ears would be if he was in his wolf form. He quickly started to scratch at it, using his right hand much like a dog would use it's hind leg to scratch behinds it's ear. "Don't you dare laugh at me!" He said quickly, obviously flustered. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him in the slightest but, he wasn't trying to bring excess attention to himself and he was normally on top of his wolfish tenancies while on the job... or at least in a primarily human area.
     
  8. Genevieve eyed Luis’ hair, obviously unsurprised and unperturbed by its funniness. Normally, Genevieve’s hair would be doing its best Hermione-Granger impersonation. It had been a laughable subject of comedy, when she was in the army. Times had changed, however. Today, it was regulation slick, tamed. In comparison, Luis had a freedom that Genevieve had been robbed of. Beneath the surface, however, her wildness remained, just under the surface, causing subtle mischief.

    Startled out of her momentary guilt by Luis’ words, Genevieve couldn’t help but crack another short-lived grin, a small snort escaping her. She did her best to cover it by coughing, which in turn made her choke on the coffee. Taking a deep breath, Genevieve managed to still her breathing pattern, though her eyes watered. Before responding to Luis’ initial question, she gulped down the rest of the coffee, knowing very well that it would probably be relinquished from her otherwise. “I may’ve given you a ticket,” she admitted as casually as she could. Of course, in her rage, the first victim was one of her few friends. Typical.
     
  9. Luis' flustered expression faded to a mildly annoyed one. "Oh course you did... Oh well. So what'd I do, park in the commander's spot? Director of the CIA? I sure as hell know it wasn't a handicap." He was more amused as he finished talking. He looked at his watch and cursed under is breath. He stood up and his cell rang. "Hello? Yessir. Uh yes she is sir. Are you sure? Of course you are. We're on our way up." He sighed and looked at Genevieve. "So the director wants us both upstairs, now." He stood up from his seat and grabbed his helmet.
     
  10. Genevieve blinked blankly at Luis, unrepentant of the punishment she’d apparently dished out. “Your tabs are expired.” she admitted quite innocently. Genevieve had her very stubborn moments of rebellion, but according to the law, she was a very strictly abiding citizen. If Luis questioned her, she would be unflinching in the area of discipline. She may’ve have issues with being insubordinate, but she was a damn fine meter maid.

    She missed being a first sergeant.

    Genevieve’s expression immediately became sour, rather chagrined. Of course he wanted to see them…. but why them, specifically. Brow furrowing, Genevieve stood, smoothing out the wrinkles of her uniform. “Why?” she questioned Luis, sounding quite suspicious.
     
  11. Luis didn't seem to catch the part about his tabs being expired, or he didn't acknowledge it. His mind was racing trying to figure out how the head of CIA knew that he and Genevieve had a past together. Of course they knew about him and the other entities that went bump in the night, the gifted and that whole shebang. How much did he know? How much did the government actually know about what transpired during the events of Phoenix City and Dream Catcher Village? Luis pushed those thoughts out of his head, he had far to many unpleasant memories from that time. Memories he would rather not revisit. He looked at Genevieve, "I have no idea, I didn't know he knew that we knew one another."
     
  12. Genevieve began a brisk walk, knowing better than to keep the director waiting. She wasn’t one for tardiness, and she sure as hell didn’t need to get reprimanded…. again. Her eyes clouded with confusion, though she didn’t seem particularly worried. Little in life seemed to ruffle this woman’s feathers; they were made of steel. Genevieve was secure in her job, but she was slightly perturbed for a sake not her own.

    With a momentarily anxious expression, Genevieve turned an eye to Luis. “Does he now?” she asked, sounding slightly apprehensive. Genevieve wasn’t scared of the director, but she knew what he could do. For once, she looked at Luis with a new expression, viewing him as something other than a simple friend, for once. He was something else.

    Baggage.

    Turning her face away, Genevieve felt a momentary stab of shame. She detested herself for momentarily thinking of Luis as a weakness, but if the director knew of their friendship, he’d do everything in his power to exploit it. Genevieve didn’t need more bargaining chips against her. After all, the director had even used her deceased husband as blackmail material. Grimly, Genevieve’s expression became stodgy, granite. She would have to take great care.
     
  13. Luis led the way to the elevator, silent as a mute. He was anxious, not something that happened very often. If he knows about Genevieve an I, what else does he know? Winter, Olivia, Lupus, hell even that asshole of a bird could be in danger... His thoughts raced, but he had to push those out of his head. He couldn't lose it now, that would be very bad... His thoughts were officially broken by the impact of cold steel on his nose, the elevator door... He recoiled back a startled look on his face. Luis took a step back and pushed the call button. The 60 seconds it took for the steel box to descend felt like an eternity. He was again startled by the "ding" of the elevator and the occupants were almost greeted with a full toothed snarl. Luis bit down to prevent this, his enlarged canines punctured his lower lip leaving a taste of blood in his mouth. What the fuck is going on? He questioned himself as he stepped inside.
     
  14. Luckily, Genevieve wasn’t as worried as Luis. She was paranoid, for his sake, but not much shook her deeply. She had already been robbed of much; there was no longer a threat of great loss unto her. Truly, Genevieve was a woman who had little left to lose. As if realizing that she wasn’t quite so vulnerable as she anticipated, the dark-haired woman heaved a quiet sigh, dreary determination in her chilly eyes. The heels of her boots clicked in the silent tension she and Luis created, yet still faded away when she came to a standstill in front of the elevator, leaving the pair stranded. In this silence, Genevieve’s steely mind churned.

    Her thoughts were interrupted by the ding, and the strangled noise that wafted over from Luis, incredibly faint. He was weathering this anxiety far less gracefully than she. As they stepped onto the elevator, Genevieve turned her eyes straight ahead, measuring her breathing. If she appeared unruffled, it would probably positively affect Luis. Standing next to him, she abruptly and very briefly pressed her arm against his in an invisible gesture of comfort. “It’ll be alright,” she said softly, retracting her arm and folding her hands. The doors of the elevator closed, and Genevieve hoped that she was right.
     
  15. Feeling Genevieve's touch was comforting, her words even more so. He was lucky to call her friend, a title that few held... fewer still yet living. He breathed in heavily and released his breath, some tension followed. "You're probably right." His words were said aloud, though they were more for his comfort. With his blood family gone all he had left were his friends, he would go to great lengths to protect them. The elevator door opened to a single room, a strong scent of flowers filled the air. Luis wrinkled his nose at the powerful scent.

    "I'll forgo the greetings and get to the point." His voice was deep, sounding in his mid 40's. Director Silenus was a tall stocky man of European Descent. His hair was brown and close cut. His eyes were a pale gray, they were like marble. "The two of you are going to Russia. You're posing as Newlyweds on your Honeymoon. You need to find a black market dealer named Irving Zhidkova. He is in possession of an artifact, it will be held in a black wooden crate roughly the size of a dinner plate. It's contents need to be brought back, stateside. You're paper work is in the envelope." He finished his instructions and rested his chin on his hands. He was sitting behind a large wooden desk, arms resting on top of its sleek surface.
     
  16. Genevieve was grateful that giving comfort had paid off. She was terrible at consoling anybody, let alone men. While Genevieve’s assurance had been heartfelt, it had also been extremely awkward for her. She was about as compassionate as a rock, with very few womanly nurturing skills. Mostly, she’d just wanted to find a method to keep Luis from attracting a lot of unwanted attention, or from injuring himself. God, he could be such a dork. She didn’t need him to make a scene by breaking his own nose on an elevator door or something. Worse, she didn’t need him accidentally inuring others. What a pain.

    Upon opening the doors, Genevieve made a small sniffing noise. She couldn’t smell a darn thing, but something made her nose hairs tickle. Not having a sense of smell was both a blessing and a curse, but her mild allergy usually alerted her to anything that contained pollen. It made flowers far less appealing.

    Blinking, Genevieve tried to absorb all the information thrown her way. She straightened her spine, spread her feet, and clasped her arms behind her back. “Good afternoon to you too, sir,” Genevieve greeted stoically. She’d never been particularly skilled at keeping her mouth shut, and she had a long reputation of problems with authoritative figures. Quickly getting over her small, innocent outbreak of sarcasm, Genevieve’s brow furrowed in such utter skepticism upon absorbing the Director’s plan. Newlyweds? Genevieve glanced at Luis, with enough doubt in her expression to probably hurt his feelings.

    Genevieve immediately took the envelope, rifling dubiously through its contents. She didn’t look pleased. “Those are some pretty vague instructions,” Genevieve replied bluntly, handing the envelope to Luis before adding a half-hearted “Sir,”.
     
  17. "You know what you need to know. Lastly do not open the box, period. Luis will be able to smell it's contents, to verify it's inside. Now get going, your flight leaves in 6 hours." Silenus's tone indicated he was done speaking, furthered by his sitting back in his chair.

    Luis inspected his passport once he was back in the elevator, he was curious on his name. "Wallace Abernathy.... Well at least it isn't something like Richard..." He joked. Luis looked to Genevieve, "So Mrs. Abernathy, how do you deal with airport security?" It was an honest question, but his amusment showed through his smirk. He was probably going to have a bruise here in a minute, but he felt it was worth it. Humor lightened the mood.
     
  18. Genevieve was neither amused nor pleased. She’d had enough of the military bull crap. Six hours was definitely enough time to pack, but there were many aspects of the mission that she already detested. Genevieve liked plans. She could be spontaneous, but hell, it wasn’t her forte. Genevieve was stubborn like that, and pretty predictable. Being thrown into some last minute shenanigans ruffled her feathers a little. However, she didn’t show this to Silenus. She didn’t let him know that he was getting under her skin - again.

    Walking with Luis, Genevieve’s strides were long and crisp, her boots plodding in time. Remembering the name on her passport, Genevieve allowed herself an expression of disgust. “Agatha,” she relayed weakly. Wallace and Agatha. Good God. Unfortunately, Genevieve could see herself being an Agatha. It was a name far less illustrious than Genevieve. Agatha was plain, and it suited her. For some reason, she felt slightly cheated by the director.

    Shooting a scowl at Luis, Genevieve’s forehead furrowed into it’s usual stubborn line. In contrast to Luis’ more lighthearted attitude, Genevieve was incredibly serious, especially about missions. “I make Silenius ship all of my things over by Amazon,” she replied with incredible seriousness. A very small smirk briefly twitched up the corner of her mouth. Generally, causing her boss pain was one of the few things that seemed to bring her joy.
     
  19. "Agatha Abernathy? AA.... That's kinda funny, more so if you had a drinking problem. You don't have one do you? Its been awhile so I wouldn't know." Luis began to ramble, a normal occurance when his mind was distracted, or he was troubled by something. Once he realized he was going on an on he shut his mouth and fell silent. A scowl on his face, his forehead muscles tense. What the hell? Why am I nervous?

    He followed Genevieve out of the building and into the lot. He proceeded to his bike and pulled a small duffle from the cargo rack. It held his clothes and weapon.
    "I'm asuming we're heading back to your place so you can pack, right? I can't exactly take a 9mm on a commercial flight. I'm also quite curious to see what your home looks like inside." he moved back to Genevieve with his bag slung over a shoulder.
     
  20. Shooting him a scowl, Genevieve took long strides across the lobby, dividing the tide of people with her confidence. “What’s next, a battery joke?” she asked flatly. There was no venom to her words, but she didn’t seem particularly humored at this junction, just feisty. Truthfully, her mind was a little troubled, and she was resenting the director. He knew her backstory - asking her to play house was a damn insult. Genevieve roughly pushed the doors open, an abrupt gust of wind tugging her some of her hair free. Frustrated, Genevieve pulled a nasty looking pin from her bun, letting her hair tumble free. It seemed like an action of rebellion, but it was one that she relished.

    Striding to her jeep, not parked far away, Genevieve eyed Luis, evaluating her trust in him. Sighing, she seemed either chagrined or resigned to her fate. “Just how badly do you want to see my house?” she asked curiously, a little surprised by his enthusiasm. Genevieve’s poor jeep was an old soul, painted in chipped, dusky grey with a rather bare canopy. The backseat was littered with spare car parts and other miscellaneous machinery, as well as a few empty liquor bottles and some chip bags. Outside of the workplace, she wasn’t extremely organized.
     
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