06 / 28 / 10 - Illyana, Isabel, Jean-Paul, Xen
"And fuck him, he's the only useful thing we've got." Isabel's voice is darkly quiet, her strides long and fast. She glances at Illyana and then falls into silence, which carries them back to the quiet security of the safehouse. Only once there does her com flare back into life, jerked on with teke before she's three steps into the door. "Northstar?" she calls over it, hands lifting to work her wig free.
"Here," Jean-Paul says from high above someplace, somewhere. He leaves off on his email to Isabel, taking the direct call.
Xen looks up from his own laptop at the radio call, looking across the way at Jean-Paul.
Illyana jerks the scarf out of her hair, and tosses it on the nearest piece of furniture as they enter. She should have given it to Dmitri! "It doesn't mean I'm not going to imagine just what I'd do if he /wasn't/ useful..." She starts pacing, attention cocked to Isabel's conversation, though.
"Please tell me you caught all of that," Isabel bites over the com systems, giving Illyana only a short glance before she crosses into the kitchen, teke tugging at the refrigerator.
"Yeah." Leaning back against the chair, Jean-Paul glances over at Xen with a slight grimace. "Some of it was a little muffled but -- we got it. We heard."
Xen's returned look isn't much better than a grimace of his own as he pauses in whatever he was doing to listen to the conversation over the communicator.
Illyana finds a pillow to slam back onto the couch before she sits herself, forcing down some of the emotion by forcing stillness. She turns on her own com to join the conversation. "Why didn't they warn us who the contact was?"
"Good." The bite of Isabel's voice is sharp, and her glance toward Illyana from the kitchen likewise. "Would /you/ have, if you wanted our help?" she asks, low-voiced and bitter in a moment's wallow before she draws in a deep breath and wraps her hand around a water bottle, ice cold from the fridge. "Okay. Assuming he sends us the shit he swears he will-- what else do you have for us to yank on when you get here?"
"Because that's typical government M.O," comes Xen's growled reply to Illyana, his own voice adding to the mix. "Regardless, he is who he is. We just have to deal with it."
"We're pulling locations for the two men he mentioned," Jean-Paul says, going back down his list. "We were going to ask for more information on the contact, but -- I guess we know now. We had a few ideas about what to do once we hit the ground. Dynamo wants to go after Kozlov's kids to make contact, question them. Two adult sons." Skepticism frosts his tone, but he moves on. "Alexeyev seemed doubtful about posing as buyers, but still -- it would be a good way to get information. Otherwise, track the two men, see what we can find out about the stolen nuke -- size, transport -- and check where it was stolen from. What am I missing?" he asks, which is presumably not directed to Isabel or Illyana.
The reply comes quickly on the heels of Jean-Paul, Xen's voice once more speaking over the communicators, "We need to try and find a way to track the nuke, if possible. As for finding confirmation about the missing nuke, we figured that we should be trying to see if the CIA has some 'unofficial' ties that might admit to something missing." There's a brief pause, "Looking at the site it disappeared from might be useful, too. Finding out how they got this thing out might tell us more about their transport methods. Maybe give us a better clue what their mystery mutant can do."
"Oh. Other associates," Jean-Paul tags onto Xen. "Other criminals. Anything we can get on the local organized crime scene."
"Pretend to be associated with one of the existing buyers, maybe. If we can find enough information. Rather then being a whole new one." Illyana pinches the bridge of her nose, to aid thought past her frustrationg and anger. She falls silent to listen to the others.
"Okay," Isabel breathes, glancing at Illyana as she circles around to drop into a chair. "Good. He didn't mention the kids, so I'm not fussed about them unless we run out of more likely strings to pull." She pauses and then adds, "We've got remote control of his com, by the way. GPS, ability to listen in if we need it. Ask Intel to keep an eye on where he's going? I don't want to raise suspicion by listening in yet, but we can at least get a map of his movements around the city." Isabel's shoulders slump downward, and she rubs at her eyes briefly. "And see if they can feel out how feasible posing as a buyer would be. I don't know that anyone's going to be willing to front that sort of cash into the Russian mob, but even if we underbid, it may be a route into information." She pauses to nod quietly at Illyana, and then vocalizes, "Not a bad idea, if there's anything that looks likely. We need to get an idea of who his potentials are first, though. Hopfully the names can help with that." For a moment Isabel pauses, letting thoughts swirl muddily through her head before she adds, "Okay. Alright. We'll see about the site and recon once everyone's here. Tonight, Rebound, check with the CIA on that. Northstar, talk to Intel about the tracking and buying a fucking nuclear weapon from the Russian mafia. And everyone else, pray Dmitri wasn't lying when he said he didn't know any of the buyers."
"Convenient," says Jean-Paul, approving. "I want to bug Slavin's phone, speaking of. Once we get addresses on Slavin and Kozlov, we can try tracking them, then getting a hold of his phone." Possibly by asking nicely for it.
"Ibis, Dmitri said they had the mutant safe and secure, but he mentioned he wasn't anywhere that Dmitri knew of. I would suggest putting Analysis to find out all of Kozlov's and Slavin's holdings around the city. Narrow down our search to any locations that are easily securable, possibly recently acquired. Nothing in their usual holdings that sees a lot of use. That might narrow down the search for our mystery mutant to a handful of locations." Xen goes quiet for a moment and then adds, "Looking at Slavin's file, and then listening to what Dmitri had to say about him, I think we are going to need to be exceptionally careful here." Another brief pause, and his voice is laden with tension, "We are walking a razor-thin tightrope. If Slavin feels the squeeze too quickly, I'm worried that he'll go for the 'splash' Dmitri's talking about by having Kozlov arm the damn thing. Maybe detonate it."
"Absolutely," Isabel agrees to Jean-Paul. She slumps for a moment longer before finally stirring, steps slow as she moves to dig through her bag for her laptop. "He's said he had some suspicions," she corrects Xen. "He's sending us a list of addresses, apartments. Actually, Northstar, I'll contact Home with most this shit, including that, if you can follow up on the possibility of a cover as buyers." Her lips twist, rueful and faintly annoyed, at Xen's comment, but she makes no audible response. Instead she says, "Have you guys gotten any sleep?"
"Here and there." Only a little evasive, Jean-Paul says, "Yeah, I can follow-up. I'll see what Old Home can get about any groups bidding. Alexeyev didn't know, right? Slavin or Kozlov might."
Xen checks his watch, calculating the time they have left in the air, "As long as I get a few hours here, I'll be alert when we land. I've got some time to rest before we show up." He glances around at the rest of the plane, "Most of the others are catching up on that right now." There's a look over at Jean-Paul, an eyebrow arching at the evasion. He doesn't say anything about it, though.
"He's passing along a few names who might give us a direction to look. Contacts who make contacts," Isabel answers, stirring her laptop into life as she settles back down into her chair. "But it's a long route and not very effective. If we can get a tap on Slavin or Kozlov, that's better." To Xen, she smiles faintly and says, "Make him sleep more than here and there, Rebound. We're not going to be any good if we're not sharp on the ground."
Jean-Paul growls with feigned irritation at Isabel's MOTHER-HENNING. Then he says, "All right. I'll ask them to ... prepare to be flexible, based on what he sends."
Off the radio, Xen voices to Jean-Paul, his voice tinged with mild, dark humor. "Hear that? It means you need to put away your toys soon. We have no more than five hours left in the air before we land." The pilot grins slightly at the feigned irritation, then replies into his comm unit, "Alright. We will send our inquiries from up here, and then I will make sure Northstar closes down. We'll be down in five hours. At the safe house thirty minutes later."
Isabel's laugh is quiet and dark in response to Jean-Paul, and she gives a nod that no one can see. "I'm going to do the same and then-- try to crash." Briefly, wistfully, she adds a thoughtless murmur of, "I wish Sunshine were here," before her voice raws firm again. "See you soon. Safe flight."
Checking in with Iz. And swimming.