FIC : crackdown -- part one
(Los Angeles International Airport
Los Angeles, California)
Nikolai should've known to stay away from the airport, after the last time he managed to nearly get himself arrested. He really, really should have known not to go in public, where they use face recognizing software on a daily basis as people enter and exit the terminal buildings. But he was meeting someone, and as he sat near the baggage claim, checking his watch and eyeing the overhead boards announcing the flight from London's Heathrow airport as having arrived on time, he eyed the slow flood of passengers that began to make their way out.
"Excuse me, sir?"
There's a female voice, as someone taps him on the shoulder, and he turns his head to eye the woman, in airport traveler relations uniform according to her badge.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, actually, could you come with me please?"
Not wanting to raise eyebrows, Nikolai nods and then follows the woman towards the office. It's as he's walking, he catches sight of the person he's here to meet, and a glance is shared between the two of them before he turns his head and walks straight into the office, and the waiting airport security. "Is there a problem?"
"We just need a little information. Do you have any identification, sir?"
"Of course."
Of course it's not his real name, or his real address, he wouldn't be quite so stupid, and he hands over his driver's license and then waits for them to do whatever it is they want to do. There's quiet chatter on the radio, before one of the doors open and a federal agent steps through.
"Mister Sergeyev, we need you to cooperate fully with the authorites, unlike the last time you were here," the taller of the two agents comments, not giving him a very pleasant look. "And we'll need you to come with us." There's the click of handcuffs being opened. "Do you have any weapons on you or anything else that would present a threat if we searched you?"
Nikolai merely shook his head.
He didn't move as they patted him down and opened his jacket, to reveal the fact that he was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath. He didn't tell anyone that, and they eyed him before he just shrugged. "Lot of people want me dead."
Once they had searched him, and cuffed his hands behind his back, they led him out of the small office and into the main body of the airport. His face betrayed nothing, despite the looks given to him by curious passengers and children. One glance caught the eyes of another younger man, then he turned his gaze toward the exit, where a squad car was waiting. He ducked into the vehicle and sat there, silently.
Fuming to himself.
Los Angeles, California)
Nikolai should've known to stay away from the airport, after the last time he managed to nearly get himself arrested. He really, really should have known not to go in public, where they use face recognizing software on a daily basis as people enter and exit the terminal buildings. But he was meeting someone, and as he sat near the baggage claim, checking his watch and eyeing the overhead boards announcing the flight from London's Heathrow airport as having arrived on time, he eyed the slow flood of passengers that began to make their way out.
"Excuse me, sir?"
There's a female voice, as someone taps him on the shoulder, and he turns his head to eye the woman, in airport traveler relations uniform according to her badge.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, actually, could you come with me please?"
Not wanting to raise eyebrows, Nikolai nods and then follows the woman towards the office. It's as he's walking, he catches sight of the person he's here to meet, and a glance is shared between the two of them before he turns his head and walks straight into the office, and the waiting airport security. "Is there a problem?"
"We just need a little information. Do you have any identification, sir?"
"Of course."
Of course it's not his real name, or his real address, he wouldn't be quite so stupid, and he hands over his driver's license and then waits for them to do whatever it is they want to do. There's quiet chatter on the radio, before one of the doors open and a federal agent steps through.
"Mister Sergeyev, we need you to cooperate fully with the authorites, unlike the last time you were here," the taller of the two agents comments, not giving him a very pleasant look. "And we'll need you to come with us." There's the click of handcuffs being opened. "Do you have any weapons on you or anything else that would present a threat if we searched you?"
Nikolai merely shook his head.
He didn't move as they patted him down and opened his jacket, to reveal the fact that he was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath. He didn't tell anyone that, and they eyed him before he just shrugged. "Lot of people want me dead."
Once they had searched him, and cuffed his hands behind his back, they led him out of the small office and into the main body of the airport. His face betrayed nothing, despite the looks given to him by curious passengers and children. One glance caught the eyes of another younger man, then he turned his gaze toward the exit, where a squad car was waiting. He ducked into the vehicle and sat there, silently.
Fuming to himself.