The redhead didn't even try to contain the rush of delight that filled her at the gleam in his eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips as he agreed to her proposal, all of it. Even such a small taste of victory was heady after months of chafing at being a glorified coffee girl. Not wanting to ruin the spell she kept her silence though outside of letting him know which movie lot to head to. Part of her itched to give him every bit of the intel she had, the things that just didn't add up about Veronika, but she controlled her impatience and decided to let him make his own opinion now that she had extracted his promise to be open minded. But of course sitting in silence made her realize that now that she finally had a decent chance of catching Norman... she didn't really want to give up Veronika's friendship.<br/><br/>That was an unexpected complication.<br/><br/>When he parked the car she glanced up, frowning to realize that everyone else was filing out but the leggy blond was no where to be seen. That was odd, normally Veronika was one of the first out the door with how much the director annoyed her. If it were another young woman she might have thought the actress remained behind to bribe the director, but Ver...Norman didn't work like that. Probably because of the risk posed should his incomplete transformation be revealed. Connie slid out of the car, shutting the door behind her while grateful that her cover meant she wore practical flats rather than heels and she had every right to bustle into the building as if she had a purpose. Costume designers did come and go at odd hours.<br/><br/>"Normally in the director's office, this way." With her voice hardly above a whisper she indicated their path, her nerves sharpening because the movie set was a ghost town. This wasn't normal, typically there would be back stage crew hands, custodians, and an assortment of others bustling around. Now it was just she and Trevor, bringing back the instincts that had kept her alive on the other side of enemy lines during the war. She didn't draw a gun, anymore than she had while in German occupied France, but instead stayed light on her feet with sharp attention to detail.<br/><br/>The cry for help had her pausing, glancing at Trevor before giving a nod to the door that lead to the director's office. Their target it appeared was in there, and under some duress. Trevor was moving swiftly, all deadly elegance as his gun came out of his holster and he clearly was ready to act only to pause at the last moment and recall her cover. She almost wanted to laugh, her operation was at an end the next morning anyway, but it meant something that he cared enough to do that. Not that he resisted the damsel in distress, hiding his weapon and rushing into the office to pull the sleaze of a director off Veronika. Now things became difficult, after all Jack Thomas wasn't use to being interfered with, and it was the word of a woman and a black man against his own. Well, two women, as she stepped into the office as well, ignoring the pang that filled her at the gentleness Trevor showed the Russian.<br/><br/>"Mr. Thomas, we heard distress and were just trying to help." the director's gaze swung to her, his costume designer with strong connections in Hollywood. Her word might not hold up in an argument, but she at least could make things difficult for him. It was part of why though he had eyed her often he had never acted on his impulses with her. She would really have to thank Peggy for the air tight background they had created for 'Sandra'.<br/><br/>"Get the...." Whatever Jack was about to say was cut off the moment four armed, muscled men walked into the office and Connie retreated behind the desk with a curse even as the director made a staying motion with his hands to the men, a smile on his lips that wasn't at all sincere. "Gentlemen, you're early. I'm not really ready for you yet..."<br/><br/>"Too bad, the boss wants what you promised. Now." The leader of the men, his accent hinting at Italian origin had swarthy skin and dark eyes that flickered through the office before landing on Veronika with a grin. "Is this the one? You are certain she won't be missed?"<br/><br/>Missed.<br/><br/>Connie frowned, trying to understand the implication before cursing mentally. The director had singled out the young Russian because she had no family, no one to notice if she vanished. Italian muscle meant the mob, and that meant she and Trevor had unintentionally saved the blond from being treated like so much property. It also meant they had landed themselves squarely in a situation. Glancing at her partner she wondered how he would want to proceed, keeping the civilian pretense or using their skills. The look at Trevor meant she wasn't prepared for when one of the thugs took hold of one of her arms, bruisingly tight and jerked her forward. "I think the boss would like this one, redhead and all." Connie attempted to jerk her arm free, glaring up at the man.<br/><br/>Jack at this point was sweating heavily, "You can't, she's my costume designer and connected."<br/><br/>The man holding her grinned, "You could always just say she ran off, why you stalling?"