(Story Thread: Just jump in and take off): A New Cell

[Ed Wetterman]

Mister E looked down at her watch. They were late. She'd have a talk with them about punctuality when they arrived.
She quickly scanned the park, the nice green grass, the trees-their leaves turning into many hued shades of color, and the walking path. There were only a few joggers out today. Guess it was too cold for many of the regulars. Winter was coming and the first of many cold weather systems had blown in the day before. In the far distance she could hear the traffic on the streets of New York. There were always honks, beeps, and bad language to be heard, but here there was a sense of peace.
A jogger approached. Male, nice looking, good shape, no hidden weapons, nothing to indicate he was one of her protectors. There were three in all. The other two were nearby, somewhere.
She sighed, her only visible sign of irritation and considered the mission she was going to give her new cell. Her fingers wound into her blond, nearly white, hair, and her angular, yet feminine face held a determined look. Her grey eyes constantly scanned the area, always looking for any signs of danger as she was very well versed in counter-intelligence techniques. She had been an Oblivion agent for six years, and had only recently been granted the promotion and the right to gather a new cell. Her agents had been trained at secret facilities and were to report to her here.
She thumbed the romance book she held in her right hand. Marco's Love was the title, but it actually contained a brief of the mission for the agents.

[Sivad]

He was called the "Boogeyman" for a reason. The infiltration suit seemed to be working to perfection causing him to blend into the colorful leaves of the tree he was hiding in. She was looking around, but not up. The cold wind didn't bother him, he was used to it. Years in a Russian gulag would inure one to environmental conditions. Never-the-less he controlled his breathing insuring that the tell-tale condensation wisps of his breathe wasn't visible.

He watched as "Mister" E walked along the path thumbing her book. A snide smile creased his features at the thought of her handle. Women wanted equality with men without the responsibility. The fact that she was the cell leader galled him to no end. Whatever. He was professional above all else.

Knowing she wouldn't be alone, he glanced around the park surreptitiously looking for her rear guard. There! The jogger. One down. He knew there would be others, but couldn't quite make them out from his vantage point. He waited for her to pass under the tree and then silently dropped down behind her.

"Does Marco love Polo?" He asks in Interlingua.

[Ed Wetterman]

Mister E slowly turned, raising one eye-brow, assessing Boogeyman. "Only in the water or in China," she answered in Interlingua. She gestured to a nearby bench and moved to sit.
"We are still waiting on another friend. I trust you are settled in the apartment." She continued, making the question into a statement of fact. She placed the book between them and her right hand moved to a small, silver bracelet on her left wrist. There was an audible click, and she smiled. "We can speak freely now. I'm impressed with how well you've caught on to our protocols and Ops."

[Sivad]

Alexandr Petrovich meets her gaze, before looking around the park one last time. He follows her to the bench but doesn't sit. Instead, he stands to her left . Taller than most Ukrainians with broad shoulders and bulging chest. Dark eyes scan the horizon behind them, lips pursed. Wanting to insure there was a 360 field of vision, just in case.

He pulls back the hood of the infiltration suit and runs his fingers through his black hair, smoothing it. "Hat head" is what the Americans called it. He is ruggedly handsome, in a menacing sort of way. There is a light scar on his right cheek, mostly hidden by plastic surgery, that runs down to the corner of his mouth. It creates an illusion of aloofness and a "bad boy" look that attracts women.

He nods are her question statement. "Da. Room is nice." Most Americans would probably think it's a slum. Small, one bedroom in a bad part of town. Compared to the gulag the Oblivion agents rescued him from, it seemed like a palace. His complexion darkens slightly at her compliment. "Training is good. Very different from Agency..." Clenching his jaw and doesn't finish the sentence about how they sold him out to a triple agent and left him to rot in Siberia.

[Bazin]

Frank Robinson walked down the pathways of the park. He was wearing what he considered acceptable attire, but the suit was rumpled and unkempt. Fashion and appearances didn't matter to Frank, he preferred to work behind a screen. He well-versed in the use of techcraft, but the art of stealth and combat were areas of weakness.

Training had assisted him somewhat with those areas. He was a little more confident about his new line of work, but it still concerned him. This was a far cry from his London flat.

Ahead, there was a bench with two individuals sitting at it. A jogger passed.

Frank approached the bench.

"Is this the bookclub?" The Brit asked, in Interlingua.

[Ed Wetterman]

Mister E cocked an eyebrow and studied the unkempt fellow who had just joined them. "Welcome Agent." She flicked her fingers and a lit cigarette appeared in right hand. She cooly took a long drag, and her lips parted slightly as she exhaled the smoke from her lungs.
"Okay. Let's get started. The details of the mission are in the book," she nonchalantly motions towards the the book and the cigarette disappeared once more.
"Here is the gist. Agent Talmer has been captured by a mystic-summoner named Kyle Freeman. Freeman's family was killed by a Zylin demon. He has hunted them ever since. Talmer, though he works for us, is a Zylin demon. I have provided you with the address to Freeman's home. It's in an old townhouse on West 95th street. Just remember that Freeman is a powerful mystic and his home will be trapped. Your mission is simple. Rescue Talmer and return to your apartments with him. I'll be monitoring your progress."
She looked from one to the other, "any questions?"

[Bazin]

Frank scratched his head. Zylin demon? He tried to recall what that exactly meant. Or maybe he didn't know. Training was a comprehensive and exhaustive process. He thought he was going to explode from all the knowledge he gained in the past few weeks.

"How will we, uh...detect these traps?" The fact that magic existed was still a concept that was hard to fathom for Frank, and he really didn't understand how it worked, so he tended to ask questions that might seem a little on the dumb side.

[Sivad]

Bogeyman watched the other agent approach, but said nothing. He listened quietly to Mister E's very abbreviated mission briefing and to the other man's question. Dark eyes meet the other's gaze.

"Actually, I know quite a lot about getting into and out of secure facilities and disarming traps." His voice has a slight accent, Eastern European or Russian maybe. "But...I'm not very skilled with mystic traps. I might be able to spot them and find an alternate path." He shakes his head slightly as he emphasizes "might".

Looking back at Mister E, he clears his throat before speaking. "So, this Talmer is one of us, but some sort of demon? Why would we want to rescue a him? If he was dumb enough to get caught by one mystic, what makes you think he won't get caught by another after we bring him in?"

[Ed Wetterman]

Mr. E raised an eyebrow at Boogieman and a smile played on her lips. "He has helped us...from time to time. We don't waste assets, and we follow orders. Does that suffice." She made the question a statement and moved on.
"You recieved training on mission resources. You have limited resources. Simply let me know what you think you need for this mission, and I'll try to make it happen. You have an hour to plan, let me know via the secure line on this phone." A small sat phone appeared in her right hand. She placed it on top of the book.
"Anything else, Zeroes?"

[Sivad]

Alexandr narrowed his eyes and clinched his jaw at her response. Typical. The CO asks if you have questions and when you do the answer is always chain of command speak. Don't ask why and do as you told. But it was being called a Zero that really frosted him especially since it was a woman saying it. Did she have to be so condescending...or was she referring their chances of successfully completing the mission?

From the shell-shocked look on his partner's face it was obvious that neither of them had any real experience dealing with magic, mystics or whatever they were calling themselves nowadays.

"So...we've got a whole hour to review the mission information in the book and make a resource requisition?" Said through clenched teeth, his voice is somewhere South of a hiss and North of a whisper.

He looks at the other agent with a "May I?" motion towards the book and phone.