Spies Like Us...
Who: Elena, Spy (Fabien Devereux)
What: After weeks of being watched Fabien decides it is time to confront his little "stalker"
Where: Streets of Clairbourn
When: Sometime during Spring Break
( What is the fuss? )
What: After weeks of being watched Fabien decides it is time to confront his little "stalker"
Where: Streets of Clairbourn
When: Sometime during Spring Break
( What is the fuss? )
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Clearly she was not as much of a "professional" that Fabien had immediately assumed, causing his cognitive skills to deduce that she wasn't from such places as the CIA or Interpol. But at least whoever sent her had the class to send someone who was "easy on the eyes". And with his back turned but with the ability to still see behind him he ad the ability to ensure that without being caught looking at her.
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"You should watch where you're going more carefully!" the woman said in reproach. "Texting while you're walking isn't very smart."
"I'm sorry," Elena said, picking up her cell phone and the battery and slotting them back together. The woman continued on her way and Elena looked up-
Damn. Where did he go?
Her lips compressed to a thin line in irritation. But she knew where he had parked, so she kept going in that direction - she would catch up with him eventually.
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A faint smirk was pasted on Fabien's face as he saw Elena get irritated by the fact that she lost him. But she would prove to be undeterred, as she continued to walk on. Clearly she knew where the counselor had parked his late model sports sedan. His internal dialogue chirped a "...Clever girl..." like he was some kind of jumpy Australian man with a funny looking hat.
He followed the young lady to where he parked his car, but stayed in the shadows, ensuring he wouldn't be seen. It was nigh time he got some answers.
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It didn't matter too much. He had to come back to his car eventually - but still, Elena didn't like losing him. He was altogether too good at slipping away from her sometimes - especially when she was staking out his house at night, and he left and... managed to get away from her without her even realizing where he was going.
She changed direction, heading for her own car nearby, fishing through her purse for her keys. Goddammit, why do they always end up at the very bottom of my bag... She stopped in front of her car door and put her purse on the hood, rifling through it. This is what I get for carrying a goddamn tote bag...
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Devereux had been completely silent. She hadn't heard him approach, but she hadn't spent months trekking across the US by herself - a young girl, alone, seemingly helpless - without learning how to pay attention to her surroundings.
Before he opened his mouth to speak, she was already withdrawing her hand from her tote, moving it down by her side. Stupid, she berated herself - but then again, she had never expected him to get the drop on her.
When he spoke, her hand immediately went for the gun she kept tucked into the back of her waistband.
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She leaned back, propping her hands on the hood of her car. She didn't disobey his order to keep them where he could see - but she wasn't going to act like he was intimidating her. Even though he is - Jesus, who is this guy? Not the guy I thought I was following at all.
"Don't take the gun personally," she said. "It has nothing to do with you; I'm always armed. Although I would appreciate it if you wouldn't point it at me - I'm perfectly willing to talk to you like a civilized person."
Elena didn't answer his question. She didn't think she was the only one tailing him, and she was almost sure that Gio was smart enough to put someone else on her trail to make sure she hadn't been made. Well, here she'd been made. She only hoped ( ... )
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Assessing the entire situation the counselor had come to terms that he had proven his point by outdrawing and holding his surveillant at gunpoint. Also the former spy knew that were he to choose between the gun in his hands and the knife holstered in his jacket he'd rather use his "preferred weapon" anyways. However he chose not to give the girl her gun back in one piece.
He unloaded and pocketed the magazine, pulling the slide back he released the chambered round onto the ground. A number of quick hand motions later and the guidance counselor had dismantled the firearm into three pieces; the lower portion of the gun, the slide, and the barrel. He laid the pieces on the ground. "You appear to be hesitant to answer who I made angry, perhaps I should ask what I did then?"
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If this got too dangerous, she might have to leave it. That thought didn't sit well with her, but Elena had been around the block enough times to know that your life was the important thing and everything else was expendable. If she had to cut and run, she'd do it with no hesitation.
'Madmoiselle' caught her attention, though. Maybe there was a way for her to keep from getting her fool self killed. She switched to French, hoping he was as fluent as his accent made him sound. "You'll forgive me if I'm not going to name names. I may have no loyalty beyond my paycheck, but I do like not being dead." She gave him a sharp-edged smile. "The student you got a little... close with has protectors who want me to make sure you keep away from him."
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Fabien had already gathered a proper clue as to the identity of the "contractor" through her statement. The fact that she wouldn't give a name meant she at least knew, which meant whoever wanted him watched on might have wanted him to know it was them. The theory had practically solidified when he heard the purpose. It was because of Trevor...
"What happened with Monsieur Gilchrist was a mistake that I continue to pay for everyday since. Your presence only verifies that, but clearly you should know by now I have no intentions of going back to that."
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Apparently not as professional as you thought, if the school teacher drew on you. Gotta find out who this guy is. She snorted and blew her hair out of her face. "If you're trying to convince me to stop tailing you, you're wasting your breath. I like my paycheck. And seriously, if you have no more intentions toward the kid, why in the world would you send him flowers?" She raised her eyebrow at him and crossed her arms, waiting for the answer to that particular question.
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Continuing on in French he said, "I could not convince you one way or another on anything like that Mademoiselle, much like a good little soldier I'm sure you'll do what your told. If that means following me while I do every last boring thing I can think of, then at least you know you will not have to pull out your weapon, were it in one piece, for your paycheck."
As he continued to smoke on his cigarette Elena brought up the flowers, "Pute," he thought to himself.
However the former spy would call her bluff, "I don't know what you're talking about."
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She smiled sharply, watching him smoke. Her nerves were still jangling, and her heart fast. The fact that he could handle her weapon so easily meant that he probably carried one of his own. She didn't feel like getting on the wrong end of it.
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Of course Fabien would omit that she didn't keep up because he wouldn't allow her to, but he would keep that to himself. Just like he would keep to himself that he bought Trevor red and white roses. Clearly she knew what she was doing, but the details always seemed off. The former spy would admit to himself she had potential ( ... )
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