Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery & Deamonbane)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Deamonbane on 08-08-2016, 05:01:33</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>08-08-2016, 05:01:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i2.birminghammail.co.uk/incoming/article10955620.ece/ALTERNATES/s615b/Scott-Adkins-3.jpg)</div>He wasn't much of a nightlife kind of guy anyways. Truth be told, when the call came in at half past midnight, he hadn't even gotten around to getting to bed. Still in a dress shirt and pants, still buried in a pile of paperwork from his last few months in the field. They expected this shit in by Monday, not caring that he'd been away from home for three months and some stuff had been piling up. They needed the damn reports and mission statements in by Monday, and to hell with laundry, cleaning a house that hadn't seen the blessed touch of a broom for months, bills, all that had to be put aside because the Agency just couldn't fucking wait on their damned field reports. It wasn't like they were going to do anything with them. Just black out the vital bits and put it in an underground vault to show that yes, they were keeping track of their field agents. Yes, they were making sure that no laws were broken. No, they didn't know of any discrepancies, but just in case, you can check all these blacked out files.<br><br>Yeah, working for the agency was no hoot. It meant being away from home a lot, and while the pay for field agents was half-way decent, and the back-pay was even better, with the power of hindsight, he probably should have used his GI-Bill-earned degree in International Relations probably would have been put to better use in some other field. Like lion taming, for instance.<br><br>He smirked at his exhausted face in the mirror at the joke before stepping into the shower. Cold as he could make it too. Better than coffee for waking you up after a long day of dotting i's and crossing t's. It was a quick shower though, and he stepped out, shivering from the icy water and drying himself off quickly with a rough towel. Probably could have been tossed in with the rest of the laundry, he mused, but it was too late for that now. He shaved the stubble that had begun to spring up like so many weeds across his face, running a brush over his short black hair, and brushed his teeth. With rugged looks, strong cheekbones and a good jawline, he wasn't the kind of pretty that most women found attractive, but he wasn't the ugliest man on the planet, and he was satisfied with that. What few emotional attachments with women that he'd had over the years had faded and been replaced by a string of one-night stands, which was all he could really commit to, as he was on call to be just about anywhere in the world at a moment's notice for any amount of time required. Girlfriends tended to take it personally when he didn't call, text, write or even so much as appear for months on end, so he put a stop to all that in his life for the moment.<br><br>He hadn't always been a field agent, of course. He started out, after graduation, as a desk monkey like everyone else. And then, thanks to his combat experience and his choice in bachelor's, he had been on the short list for field agent training, and that had pretty much been that. It had been a blur of international visits, information acquisition and all sorts of things interspersed with a handful of weeks spent in his lonely apartment.<br><br>He really needed to hire a maid. But when would he ever have the time to read the classifieds, anyways? Maybe he could find some sort of agency, he mused as he worked on his tie know and straightened his jacket and slipping his Glock into the in-coat holster.<br><br>A call in the middle of the night had told him to drive out to a air strip just outside town where a private jet would be waiting to take him to a black site. The kind of language that filled spy novels with thrills and mystery were in fact just a hum-drum away from being a snooze fest. He drove out to the strip where his car would be parked until he got back, and he stepped onto the plane that flew for 45 minutes before landing. There was no briefing team in the airplane, which was when it would have been best in his humble opinion, but there was a group waiting for him at the car with blacked out windows that was prepped and ready to take him to the black site.<br><br>He was handed a file without a picture, but instead a bunch of facts and figures.<br><br>"Brie Kessler," Said the handler, an older man with graying hair and a bald spot beginning to show, as well as something of a pot belly, ill-concealed behind his expensive suit," Also known as the Cutthroat. Former KGB asset, but she has been disavowed for a couple of years and been working solo since then. We caught her a couple weeks ago when our contacts at the KGB let slip that she was going to be entering the country from JFK Airport in New York."<br><br>"Seems like you have everything under control then," Jason Avery said in a quiet tone, still not quite sure why there was such urgency," I had a lot of paperwork to do. I have just come in from the field, you know."<br><br>"Your paperwork's been handled already, Agent Avery. This is a delicate matter that requires your full attention. Kessler was born in the US, but disappeared along with her parents on a visit to Russia before the Balkans Incident. We'd heard rumors that she was planning a defection before she was disavowed, and is a veritable goldmine of KGB intelligence. But our... interrogators have failed to drudge up anything useful so far. We were hoping that, as a fellow field agent, you might appeal to her more closely."<br><br>"What kind of leverage do I have?"<br><br>"We have her parents in custody as well. We also have the location of her younger brother who managed to escape from Russia when the disappearance happened."<br><br>"What do we need from her?"<br><br>"Anything you can get us, Agent Avery. You have 24 hours."<br><br>The car ground to a stop, and he could tell immediately that they were underground.<br><br>"One last question," Avery asked, stopping the handler from exiting the car," Why doesn't her file have any pictures?"<br><br>"You'll see soon enough," The man's smile was cryptic and annoying all in one, but Avery didn't press, instead following the team deeper into the bunker, down into where prisoners would be isolated and kept for interrogation. It was a dirty tactic, but times were hard enough as it was, and even if the modern media didn't appreciate the kind of straights that they were in, he did. Necessary evils sprung up all over the place, and it was hard enough to stomach as a civilian. As someone who was in the knew of just how evil the necessary ones were, he found himself questioning whether he'd gotten into the right line of work every day.<br><br>Finally, they reached her cell. Several locks were opened, and they entered. The place... smelled bad. It smelled of all the dirty work that had been done here. Several weeks in a CIA black site could do things to a person that some people would debate was even human. He scowled as he saw the state of the woman. Strung up to the ceiling by her wrists, just low enough to allow her to stand on her tip toes, barely. Exhaustion torture was generally last resort, Avery mused, his scowl deepening. This girl must have been a tough nut to crack. Then again the KGB did tend to emphasize anti-interrogation techniques in their agents. He shook his head as the interrogators watched him, turning their attention away from the woman and facing the newcomer with annoyed looks on their faces. One of them had spit all over his face. Avery forced his face into a blank and sat down at a nearby table, opening the girl's file again, his eyes looking to be deep in concentration as he looked over the material that he'd already committed to memory. Finally, he looked up.<br><br>"Cut her down," He said, and the interrogators were a bit slow to respond," Now."<br><br>The last word was emphatic, and the boys jumped into action, lowering her chain down to the ground.<br><br>"Sit her down," He pointed to a chair across from him at the table," And take a walk," They nodded, dragging over to the chair and snapping her cuffs to the link in the table.<br><br>"Wait," He said, pulling his gun from it's holster and handing it to one of the men, who took it outside. First rule of interrogation: Never step into a room with someone while carrying a weapon that they can turn against you. He'd almost forgotten about that. Showed how tired he was. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone, finally. He sighed and stretched, finally turning his focus to the beautiful, if ragged, blonde bombshell sitting across from him.<br><br>"Miss... Umm Kessler? Was it?" He smiled politely," I'm Special Agent Nicholas Smith, with the Central Intelligence Agency. I'm... sorry about the rude treatment you've been receiving from my colleagues. They're barbarians. I keep saying, torture doesn't work. But do they listen? No, of course not. The boys in the lab do love trying out their toys."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>13-08-2016, 11:09:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i61.photobucket.com/albums/h80/Longhorngal710/Playby/Playby5_zpssjrczmxd.jpg)</div>It looked like the rooms that were shown on those TV shows and movies. The almost barren room, simple gray concrete floors with plain gray cinderblock walls. Fluorescent lights that haphazardly flickered from blindly bright to dim. The room looked just like the ones that movie writers dreamed of. Right down to the to the reddish-brown stains that littered the floor. Perhaps they were a sign that the others before had crumbled under the pressure; had been beaten into submission. In the middle of the room, under the light, was a slender metal table. At either side sat one chair in the middle. There was one door in and out, next to it a sizable one way mirror. But perhaps the most "unique" thing about the room was the woman chained to the wall. Arms outstretched above her head, wrists shackled in black iron restraints. Her ankles had the same matching hardware, keeping her firmly against the wall. She was suspended just above the ground, the tips of her toes just barely able to graze the floor if the outstretched them. White noise streamed through the speaker in any attempt to break the woman against the wall. Just yet another tactic they had tried. <br><br>All of their previous tactics had failed. Water torture had resulted in her having a surprisingly easy time in holding her breath. Dripping water on her continuously had yielded not much better results either. Deprivation of food and water would prove to be yet another dead end. After all, there was only so much they could hold out on before she would die. And well, that was certainly not the end game for them. Denial of restroom use. However, the filth was soon too much for them to bare. They had hosed her down, giving her fresh clothes as well. But the smell still did linger in the room. One of their final attempts was to keep her awake with constant injections of adrenaline. But it provided little results as well. Everyone knew she was deranged but the way she continued to prevail through it all was maddening. No wonder why the woman had been such a valuable KGB asset. <br><br>The battered and bruised woman smirked, blue eyes grazing over the guard who leaned back against the opposite wall from her. Their eyes met as she pressed her lips together. "I have something to say." She replied in her thick Russian accent. "Come here." She whispered in teasing tone to draw him in. The man didn't seem to buy it, despite her best attempts. The young woman slowly licked her lips, giving yet another smirk to him. After a few moments, the man caved and treaded closer. Perhaps she had finally cracked? Perhaps there would be some small tidbit she would give up. He looked to his counterpart who stepped closer with him as well. They were cautious as they moved closer, waiting for her to strike. She was unpredictable at best and they weren't sure what she would do next. The two men stopped a few feet away from her, crossing their arms over their chests. One arched his brow, waiting for her to say what she needed to say. <br><br><em>“I am not telling you anything, bastard.”</em> She spoke in Russian, spitting right in one of the mens face. She laughed maniacally, as if this was some game to her. “Oh, you have to do better than that.” She continued.<br><br>The man whose face she spat in lunged forward, his hands wrapping tightly around her neck as she gasped for a breath. It took all of the strength of the other agent to pull him off. "She is not worth is Lopez!" He yelled, yanking Agent Lopez off of the girl. She continued to laugh, writhing against the chains as she spoke. "We should do this again sometime Lopez. Perhaps when I am out of these chains and I can show you who has the upper hand." She taunted. <br><br>The door suddenly opened, a new man appearing. One that she had never seen before. Oh this would be interesting. Lopez and Anderson turned to the newcomer, taking their steps back from Brie Kessler. The new man gave instructions to cut her down, immediately. While they faltered for a bit, she soon found that they obeyed. Brie was soon cut down, revealing the raw and bloody wrists and ankles. The two men roughly moved her over to the metal table, sitting her down and almost knocking her off of the seat. They made sure to now handcuff her to the table as well before taking their leave. The new man made sure to give his gun to the two men before they left. <br><br>So now it was just the blonde and him in the room. Brie eyed the new man, tilting her head to the side as she gently flexed her hands and arched her back. Her blonde hair was matted and slightly bloody in a few places, tangled and disheveled. Almost every part of her visible skin was bruised or cut. But still, she somehow looked rather appealing beyond all of it. There was a rather irritated sigh as the man started off. Miss Kessler. How terribly boring of him. She gave a long roll of her eyes when he spoke. <br><br>"Oh yes, the accommodations are dreadful I say. You would really think the CIA would provide me some of the best care since I am the most wanted woman in what? I think I lost count after thirty countries you know." She replied, easily shapeshifting her hands into small cylinders. She slipped her wrist out of the handcuffs with ease, pulling her hands up and checking for dirt under her ragged nails. "Like this. I really could use a manicure and a hot shower. I mean, how is a woman supposed to stay prim and proper in these atrocious conditions hm?" Brie replied, looking up from her nails to the man. From the look on his face, he wasn't informed that she was a shapeshifter. There was a devilish smirk at finding out this piece of information. "Oh did they not tell you? How disappointing that it was not listed in my file!" She added in a shocked voice, placing her bruised yet slender hand against her chest. It seemed as though she was genuinely hurt that it was not listed in her file. "Allow me to properly introduce myself then." She explained, flashing a smile. It was then that her form slowly started to morph. It started with her face, her nose reducing in size and her eyes switching color. Her blonde hair was quick to disappear in favor of brown tresses. Within thirty seconds or so, a brand new woman was sitting in front of him. Still rather beautiful with her shining hazel eyes and curvy form. "Brie Kessler." She mentioned, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her ample chest. <br><br>"So why did they send you in here? I know Nicholas Smith is not your name. Believe me, you are not that stupid. But I am just interested to see why they brought someone else in here. The first ten people failed, even the woman. Oh, it was so funny to see their frustrated reactions. Especially that Agent Lila. She was not too fond of my memory of our last encounter. Oh I remember it so well. Then again, I never forget. She was a rookie at the time, thinking she was the best agent out there. However, I did my best to knock her down a peg or two. It was so easy to slip out of her way. And getting those guns on the cargo ship? Child's play." Brie rambled, a small yet playful chuckle to follow. It was something that was detailed in one of the thousands of reports in a vault somewhere. Brie had always been rather chatty and confident in her speech. She knew the exact details to divulge and when to divulge them. It seems as though the KGB had made perhaps the ultimate spy. <br><br>With yet another exasperated sigh from her, she merely looked to her fingernails once again before looking to the man. "So are we done here? I think it has already been established that I am not going to merely give up the confines of my mind that easily. So I really do not see the point in continuing this further. Why don't you let me go and allow me to go on my way? I stay out of your way and you stay out of mine. We both win." She suggested, giving a rather innocent smile. She knew that she had been in there for four weeks, six days, seventeen hours and...twelve minutes if her calculations were correct. Considering she had an autobiographical memory, she could say with certain that she had been there for weeks. Was that another thing listed in her dossier or was it something else left out? There was only five documented cases in the world with an eidetic memory. And as far as she was aware, she was also the only shapeshifter of her kind. It made her the perfect asset for any agency. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>22-08-2016, 01:51:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Well... that wasn't something you see everyday. He'd heard whispers about this sort of thing, people with unbelievable abilities, explainable abilities. He'd heard stories from some very reliable and unreliable sources alike, and he had accepted that with a grain of salt. Some people were naturally gifted at some things and that was all it had been. People expanding on tales that they'd heard from a friend of a friend's gardener or something like that. That was all they were, rumors with the tiniest grain of truth in the mix. He'd never really believed them, and never taken them very seriously. Until now. It was unbelievable, and it was undeniable. There was no trick of the light, no exaggeration, no way to spread any sort of lie like this. His eyes didn't believe what they were seeing, but his mind was already working on the details. He wasn't the kind of guy to deny the evidence that his eyes saw, but he certainly wasn't going to take ground-shaking information like this lying down. It wasn't in his nature. He would attack it, analyze it from any angle that he could, and come to an informed decision when he decided that he had enough information.<br><br>Of course, none of this showed on his face. In fact, he looked bored, even managing to stifle a yawn, covering his mouth and speaking from behind his hand," I'm sorry... really sorry. I'll be more impressed when I've gotten something resembling a good night's sleep. I know..." He chuckled," Me complaining about lack of sleep to you, kind of stupid, I know, but still," He rubbed his eyes a bit, forcing himself to focus. He was sure he would be able to process this better with at least 5 hours of sleep, but they would have to do with the cognitive abilities that he had now.<br><br>He'd always been a decent fighter. Pretty good shot, not the best by any means. But he had a talent that made him great to any field agent, and that was a silver tongue. He knew how to work angles, get people on his side, make them see things his way, even get them to do things for him if they let him talk long enough. Of course, she didn't know it, but she had broken the cardinal rule of any negotiation: You never play a player. Sure, she was good, playing her tricks at him like she knew her stuff, but the hours, days or weeks of torture that she'd endured had left her a little anxious to get going.<br><br>He needed a fucking coffee. He should have asked for one before the other guys left. Sure, the coffee in these places always sucked, but it was better than no coffee, he supposed.<br><br>Anyways, to the task at hand," You got me," He raised his hands and let a playful smile touch his lips," I'm not SA Nick Smith. Nice catch. But it's not like I'm going to give you my real name, so you better start calling me that. Or anything else you'd like. I'm not here to play 20 questions."<br><br>"Look... the boys at the Agency have been talking about someone with your unique set of abilities for a long time now. Nobody's really believed it until you sorta dropped into our lap. So, in the interest of keeping everything honest here, allow me to be blunt: You might know a thing or two that we'd like to know about the KGB, and sure, it tickles us that we're trying to get it out of you, but come on. You knew you were in the little leagues when they brought you to a place like this. Sure, they want you to talk, but that's not the endgame, sweetheart. As we speak, they're prepping a lab in some distant New Mexico desert facility that's gonna poke you, prod you and do all sorts of things to you to figure out what makes your tricks tick. Sure, they want information, but what they really, really want to know is how you can do... whatever it is that you just did."<br><br>"So," He leaned forward on his elbows, looking at her intently, the smile disappearing from his lips and looking a great deal more serious now than he had ever since he entered the room," You don't know me from Adam or Steve, but let me offer you some advice that'll spare you a whole lot of bad times: You gotta make yourself more useful to the boys upstairs as an asset than as a lab rat. You have no reason to believe me, I have every reason to lie, but I'm not. You know the CIA because you know their mirror image across the bay. You know what they want, and how little they won't do to get it. They know about your abilities - it's not like you've tried to hide them or anything - and you know what they would do to get their own grubby mitts on them."<br><br>He spoke of 'them' and 'they' like he wasn't even a part of the very same organization, but that didn't mean that he didn't mean what he said. Sure, he was a field agent, and because of that, he hated the pencil pushers, bureaucrats and politicians in the agency more than the KGB. And he let that hatred flow into his words.<br><br>"Step one is being cooperative. Tell them what they want to know, but not all of it. You know that as soon as these guys have what they want, they'll move along and you'll be seeing a lot more of New Mexico than you'd like. Feed it to them piece by piece. Make it useful, but don't give up the whole puzzle. Make sure that they have to keep coming back to you. The reward for this kind of strategy is no needles and no crazy scientists trying to figure you out. Maybe some nicer accommodations too. And step two is..."<br><br>Avery smiled, stopping himself," Well, I'll just be taking my own advice, and making sure that you want a bit more. I'll tell the boys to give you a room, some food and a small modicum of privacy that we can afford you for the night while I get some sleep, and we'll talk in the morning, talk about what you decide to do. I'm not going to kid you and say that I have your best interests at heart, but our needs have... aligned in some pretty interesting ways, and I'm sure that we can work out some sort of arrangement that keeps you away from the CIA boys with their toys," Avery took to his feet, trying not to show just how tired he was, mentally as well as physically, as he walked over to the door and tapped on it. There were no metal sliders and from what he'd seen her do with the cuffs, he was fairly sure that the security around that door was made with her in mind specifically. It opened, and Avery stepped outside, and the door closed behind him.<br><br>"Well?" Asked the impatient handler who had been waiting on the other side. Avery supposed that the man had been watching the whole thing on the live feed cameras that had been planted all around the room.<br><br>"I gave her a piece of my mind. Now it's up to her to think about it I'll let her stew over it while I get some sleep and I'll talk to her later. In the meantime, she needs to stop seeing us as the enemy that's trying to dig info out of her. Get her a secure room, with a bed, some decent food and as much privacy as you can manage.<br><br>"But..."<br><br>"I assume you brought me here for a reason?" Avery growled, at the very edge of his patience," This is what I do. I know what I'm doing. If you didn't think so, I wouldn't be here. Get her comfortable, let her think about my offer, and we'll see where it goes, okay?"<br><br>"If we move her out of that room," The handler said, looking exasperated," She'll try to escape. That room is secured against her abilities, but the rest of the facility isn't."<br><br>"Get a room secured. If she tries to escape during the transition..." Avery rubbed his eyes again, fighting back the headache that was pounding in his skull," Stop her, try to capture her. I'm assuming that the only way out of here is by road, and long one at that, so if she manages to get some free air, take her out. Otherwise, contain and capture procedures only. And... stop with the torture, okay?" Avery looked at the men in the hallway with in a rather disappointed glance," She's obviously not going to break, and at this point, you guys are just flexing your sadistic muscles."<br><br>Avery stepped away, and then turned back, coming to a rather important realization a bit later than he had wanted," I need a room, someplace to sleep in for five hours minimum."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>08-09-2016, 22:55:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oh he was rather good. Brie had an ego the size of Russia and one that would rival Kanye West. He seemed very unimpressed with her shapeshifting abilities and even balked that he needed more coffee before he would be impressed. With a long roll of her eyes, Brie just chalked it up to him playing the field like she was doing herself. They had no doubt brought him in because he was good at playing people like she was. After all, the others had gotten no where with her. They simply got frustrated and gave up on getting anything from her. Brie watched each of his movements, looking for any tells that he had. At the moment, it was blatantly obvious that he was tired. His face showed it and she made a note (not like she would forget it anyways) of what he looked like when he was tired. There was a small hint of a smirk on her lips when he mentioned that Nick Smith was not his name. "I have not gotten this far in my line of work without knowing a thing or two. Or a thousand." She replied bluntly. Her eyes casted down once again to her ragged nails, examining as she seemed to be passively listening to him. <br><br>Her eyes finally did meet his once again when he was "blunt" with her. Yes, he told her that if she didn't help herself that she would be shipped out some some desert facility in order to get poked and prodded. She had enough of that for her life. The KGB had done so more than a few times, attempting to figure out her powers. The rest of her family was completely normal for some reason. Her parents seemed to have a good memory but nothing compared to hers. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he mentioned the poking and prodding. Sure, she was trained to handle a lot of it but there would be a breaking point. And Brie did not want that to come any time soon. Her breaking point would mean that she had been through hell and back. The man in front of her explained that she needed to be more <em>useful</em> as he put it. Normally, that was meant for her to spread her legs. However, he meant it in a different way. The CIA certainly would do everything in their power to figure out how she got <em>her</em> powers. He had valid points and there was a flash in her eyes, perhaps of understanding that she just might be in over her head. But it was soon replaced with her normal "tough" visage. <br><br>The advice he gave was good, which half surprised her? Brie wasn't exactly thinking that she was going to get halfway decent advice from this man. But he had a point. If she gave small hints, she could string them along just enough to get out of here. Or enough to get some of the things that she wanted. He soon explained that he was going to depart. Brie leaned back in her chair, smirking at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh darling, we were just getting to the good part. But if you need some sleep, I <em>guess</em> I can entertain myself somehow." She said, her eyes stalking him as he moved out of the room. There was a few minutes before someone even attempted to get back into the room. <br><br>Anderson was the first one to come back in. Lopez had been replaced by two hefty bodyguard types. She had a feeling that Lopez was to the point of wanting to strangle her so he let others step in. "Alright Kessler, we are going to get you a shower first. God knows you need it. Then some food and a place for you to sleep." Anderson chronicled for her, allowing the two men to take the lead and go over to her. "And if you think about escaping, we do have orders to kill." He warned her. <br><br>Now that had been an idea. In fact, she could easily shape shift into someone and sneak away. But that would be later. She needed a shower, some food and sleep. As well, they still had her parents. Getting them away from the KGB was one thing. She knew their inner workings like the back of her hand. Getting her parents from the CIA? Well that was just playing with fire. So as much as Brie hated to admit it, she was the pawn in this game for the moment. Until she could formulate something better, she would be playing along...mostly. "Now Agent Anderson, where would you get such an awful idea about me? Why, I have been nothing but a true delight." She replied, her voice easily slipping into a southern drawl as the sarcasm dripped heavily from each of her words. Not only could she look the part of other people, she truly could mimic their voices and mannerisms. Yet another reason why she was such a valuable asset to any organization. <br><br>Brie stood up, one of the men taking the liberty to yank her wrists behind her back and this time zip tie them. There was a sharp twinge of pain that radiated from her raw wrists, it not even registering on her face though. Each men gripped her biceps roughly, surely enough to leave some finger shaped bruises in their wake. Anderson was the one to lead them out into the room just opposite of the room she was held in. It was nothing special, dark with a few monitors. Anderson then pulled the door open into the overly bright hallway. Brie squinted her eyes at the brightness, her eyes dilating and adjusting to the new steam of light. Two other men fell in line behind her, making sure that everyone was keeping an eye on her. With their uniforms of dark pressed pants and long sleeve navy button ups, Brie could have sworn they were clones. Yes, she saw each one of their faces and they were etched into her memory but she didn't give much thought. Instead she was watching the way they took her. The way they all wove through the labyrinth of hallways and doorways. She was constructing a map in her mind, if it was ever needed in the future. The hallways were barely large enough for the three to walk in a row down, the guards elbows and bulging biceps sometimes brushing up against the concrete walls. Anderson would glance back briefly every once in a while, checking to see if perhaps she was truly there. Brie met his glances with a wicked smile instead. <br><br>Their first stop was to a locker room of sorts, Anderson slipping behind her and using a knife to undo the restraints. "You have fifteen minutes. Fresh clothes are on the bench." He muttered, taking a step back and out of her range as quickly as he could. <br><br>Brie pulled her arms to her front, giving a roll of her shoulders before inspecting her wrists. "Only fifteen? I was really hoping for someone to join me. How else am I going to reach my back? Any takers?" She offered, looking in between all of the men. She batted her long, black eyelashes a few times as if to get them to waiver. All of them men held their stoic faces, not moved or even tempted by the offer. "Looks like you have all been trained well. Interesting..." She trailed off. "No matter. You may have to yank me out of there though. I cannot tell time very well." She lied before opening the door. <br><br>She stepped into a rather sterile looking room that was impossibly small. Porcelain white tile (with the matching white grout) covered the floor and extended up the walls to the ceiling. Hell, even the ceiling was tiled. In the corner was a small, white toilet with a matching white sink. There was a white tile shower (surprise right?), the shower curtain missing. A small alcove in the shower revealed a small bottle of shampoo, conditioner and a bar of soap. Brie had almost run into the bench that Anderson told her about, the metal bench bolted firmly into the tile. On top resided two white, cotton towels and some grey monstrosity of a track suit she assumed. Brie rolled her eyes and maneuvered around the bench to turn on the shower. She turned on the water, testing it to see if it would ever get hot. Thankfully, they at least had hot water. She stripped down, easing into the shower before turning it up higher. She turned the knob as hot as it would go, relaxing her sore muscles. Then came the scrubbing of her skin almost raw as well. She finished in roughly 10 minutes (give or take a few seconds; she hadn't been counting perfectly), her skin bright red from the scrubbing. Brie was sure that she had scrubbed off a layer or two of her skin between the scrubbing and the hot water. She towel dried herself, slipping on the baggy track suit and zipping it up most of the way. She left part of it unzipped, showing off some of her cleavage. She pushed the sleeves up to her elbows, rolling her shoulders back before reemerging from the bathroom. <br><br>She was met with the same stern faces, although she was sure that a couple of the guards did look at her chest if even for a brief moment. "Oh look, you are still here. So about that food...I could really go for some chateaubriand. Cooked medium rare please." She replied, as if she honestly had a choice in her meal. Anderson gave a roll of his eyes before the same process was repeated. Hands behind her back, zip tie to her wrists and men on each side. <br><br>Their next stop was the room she would be sleeping in. No different than the interrogation room except the fact that there was a bed in there instead. Of course, it was also bolted down to the floor. The pristine white sheets were tucked in, a black blanket covering the perfectly made bed. The zip tie was cut again, all of the guards alert for her movements. Brie walked further into the room, gently taking a seat on the twin bed.<br><br>"Someone will be in to bring your food. When you are done, just place it at the door." Anderson merely mentioned, turning on his heel and heading out the door. The guards followed in suit, filing one by one out of the room. There was the sound of locks being done to secure the door shut. There was a slot int he middle, no doubt where her food would be delivered. Brie scanned the room once again, making mental notes. But what surprised her was an older woman who came in with not only the food but a first aid kit of sorts. Of course a guard accompanied her but she went over to Brie. She merely opened the kit that held some gauze, antibacterial ointment, alcohol wipes and strips of tape. They probably had learned long ago never to leave scissors in there. The woman with light gray hair adjusted on the bed next to Brie, grabbing the alcohol wipes and opening them up. She grabbed Brie's hand, swiping it across the raw skin of her wrists. Oh hell yeah did it sting. And perhaps there was a small wrinkle in her nose at the discomfort but it was quickly covered up. The woman put on antibacterial ointment, dressing the wounds in gauze before securing them with medical tape. She repeated the process on the other wrist before gathering her material in the kit. She packed it up, standing up and then grabbing the tray of food. Again, she was quiet as she handed over the tray of food before leaving. Brie once again heard the sounds of the door being locked and secured. <br><br>She looked down at the blue plastic tray divided into sections. In one section was what seemed to be a previously frozen section of peas, corn and diced carrots. The one next to it held instant mashed potatoes no doubt. Her "meat" so to speak was some oblong piece of beef she guessed with some sauce over it. Food was food and she could fake eating the food for now. Brie inhaled the food, trying not to linger too long as it was not very edible. After she finished eating, she went and placed the tray onto the floor near the door. <br><br>Brie headed back to her bed, pulling back the covers as the lights were killed. That was her cue to go to bed. As if she needed any incentive though. She crawled into the thin mattress, just happy to be lying down. She pulled the covers over herself, looking at the door once again before settling in. It didn't take much after her eyes were closed before she had fallen asleep. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>16-09-2016, 13:21:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dreams didn't come, or if they did, he didn't remember them by the time that he woke up. The bed provided had been barely adequate, a couch with one of those scratchy, seemingly home-made woolen blankets. That said, Avery had spent nights sleeping o the dirt or on mats on cold concrete, which was to say that, while working with the CIA, he had acquired a very useful and oft underrated talent for falling quickly asleep anywhere that he had a mind to. Of course, this had resulted him him having to teach himself how to jump from a deep sleep to instant alertness at the first indication of danger, as well as being able to detect the signs of danger while deep in the REM-cycle, but it was a trade that he gladly made. Even though, the waking up, on his own accord without needing an alarm clock, resulting in a lot of stiffness-inducting neck-rolling, growling at the fact that an Agency like the CIA couldn't afford to put decent beds or cots in their facilities and a reluctant set of morning calisthenics to get his body working again.<br><br>A quick shower and a change into his second suit later, and he was ready for action again. Staring into the mirror as he finished shaving, patting some aftershave onto his cheeks, he scowled at the stubborn circles under his eyes. He still looked like he needed another week on that shitty sofa, but he wasn't going to get anymore rest. Avery sighed, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, before leaving the office that had been improvised as his sleeping quarters. He really, really hoped that his pep talk to Brie the night before had had a much greater impact on her than he actually thought it had, allowing him to move out of this hellhole and get back to his 2 months of vacation.<br><br>With his luck, though, she would probably have a list of demands that would take the Agency another week to process, resulting in him having to get used to calling that stuffy little office home.<br><br>He stepped into the control room, where the smell of bad coffee drew him into where the rest of the five man team were alternating keeping watch on their prisoner. They nodded at him as he entered, letting him pour a grease-stained mug filled with the thick black gasoline for humans. He winced at his first sip. It even tasted the part.<br><br>"This tastes like battery acid," He commented, drawing a few less than pleasant looks his way," Sorry," He added, with a bit of feeling. It wasn't their fault that they were so underfunded that they couldn't even afford decent coffee. He suddenly felt bad for these guys, who actually did have to live here, at least for a couple of months every time that there was a prisoner to hold.<br><br>"Any updates?"<br><br>"Well, she ate the food that we gave her, and then went to sleep. We have the motion sensors and the night vision cameras trained on her, so if she's working on some way to get out, she's being really discreet about it. I wouldn't put it past her, but..."<br><br>"Noted," Avery nodded," Thanks. How long has she been asleep?"<br><br>"Little more than six hours?"<br><br>"Good. Wake her up, I'm going to have a quick chat with her."<br><br><hr><br>The lights would have flickered on for about five minutes before the door to her room buzzed and opened, revealing Agent Avery toting a chair that he'd snagged from the mess.<br><br>"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," He said in as cheerful a voice as he could muster before placing the wooden chair on the ground with a clatter, spinning it around so the back was facing her, and settled in, facing her as well. The non-chalantness of the move wasn't the reason for it, as it had been a trick that he'd learned over the years. Sitting on the chair as he was, resting his forearms on the back of the chair and leaning his chin on them, made it so that, should he need to get up suddenly for any reason, he could do it without being forced to take a step closer to her. It also provided something of an obstacle between him and her should she be the reason behind the need to stand up quickly.<br><br>"Sleep well? Breakfast should be around in a minute. I'd avoid the coffee though," He added that last part in a confidential whisper, even though he knew that the boys in the control room could hear everything.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>28-09-2016, 04:43:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her sleep wasn't deep but that was to be expected. She had long ago learned that the deep sleepers would get themselves in trouble. She always toed the line of being conscious and asleep. Brie wouldn't be having a good, restful nights sleep for a while she presumed. Not until she was out of this place and knew where she stood on things. The lights were turned on and she could tell the difference from it being dark. Even if her eyes were closed, they were not shut tight. Meaning that she could sense the change. But she continued to pretend to be asleep, eyes still shut as she waited for any sounds or noises to be heard. She had not moved a single centimeter during the night, her still facing the wall where the security camera could not catch her face. Brie would continue to "sleep" until so called <em>Nick</em> would come back in. It seemed as though he was the CIA's last chance at getting information from her. And he had made a good first impression on her so far. Perhaps she might let a few things slide... <br><br>Brie was "awoken" when he came in, the chair dragging ever so slightly on the ground and making a rather irritating scraping noise. <em>"Rise and shine, sleepyhead,"</em> He spoke, as if almost mocking and singing it. Yes, Brie wasn't exactly in the mood for pleasantries but she would deal. The metal chair clambered and clanked around, only serving to irritate her further. But he finally seemed to settle down. That is when Brie rolled over, facing him and opening her eyes. She squinted them as they adjusted to the light, waiting a few moments before she moved to sitting upright. She extended her arms above her head, the bottom of the jacket riding up ever so slightly to show off her heavily bruised stomach. After her shower and a sleep, more of her bruises seemed to be apparent and littered her flawless skin. "You should come back in five more hours. That was nearly not enough enough time to even sleep." She replied, resting her arms down onto her thighs as her bare feet rested against the cold concrete. The zipper of her jacket had shifted ever so slightly during the night, revealing a smidgen more of her ample bosom to the man. Brie seemed to be rather unfazed by that anyways. Her eyebrows furrowed at the mention of avoiding the coffee. Was that his attempt in getting closer? In order to "bond" with her? Perhaps... <br><br>Brie tilted her head back ever so slightly, narrowing her eyes halfway at him. "You know, the KGB wasn't known for five star food. Although, there was some fantastic restaurants in Russia. But as cliche as it is, the French do have some of the best food in the world. Simply delicious." She seemed to ramble, tilting her head down and gently rubbing at the bandages on her wrists. They were soon interrupted as there was a knock at the door before someone appeared. It was Anderson with a tray, moving over to Brie and setting it down onto the bed before quickly retreating out of the room. "You can save your pleasantries. We both know the answer to that is a resounding no." She explained, looking to the food. In one of the compartments was some scrambled eggs, powdered eggs she gathered. There was a piece of dry toast in another compartment and what she assumed was some type of meat was in another one. Sausage perhaps? The coffee was in a small styrofoam cup, steaming still. She picked up the cup, inhaling the aroma and eyeing Nick before taking a long sip. <br><br>Yes, the coffee was just as retched as he spoke. But her face didn't contort or even show any signs of disgust. "I thought Americans were supposed to have good coffee." She merely mentioned before then picking up her tray and crossing her legs on the bed. She set the tray onto her lap, setting the coffee down onto the tray before picking up the toast and taking a large bite. She chewed and swallowed before speaking. "Now look. All of you already know that I am not a fan of the KGB and I am sure you know the destruction I left in the wake of leaving. I pledged my allegiance for so long and what an I say. I got bored. I got tired of it. Why not cause havoc? After all, that is the best part of the job." She started. Considering they had her parents in custody, she knew that they had gotten a picture of what was going on. The CIA wasn't stupid. They could put things together. No doubt her brother had made it home safe and the story was publicized. Her prints would ping to that long lost girl. The one who wasn't Brie Kessler. But the one who was Aurora Montgomery. But she hadn't been Aurora for seventeen years. Brie had made sure to morph her fingerprints to the point where she generally never had any prints. It came in handy very often. "I don't know what you want from me. If the CIA is as good as everyone thinks they are, they can find out anything about the KGB without <em>my</em> help." She lied. She knew that they wanted details. Details of the things that the KGB was doing. Names of operatives and names of locations. They wanted everything. And since Brie never forgot, she knew more than she should have. <br><br>Taking a bite of her eggs, she chewed and looked towards Nick. "I don't care what happens to the KGB. So what do you want to know? The locations of safe houses? Names of operatives? Schemes they are planning?" She mentioned, narrowing her eyes a bit as she finished her bite and swallowed. "Besides not being probed in some lab in the desert, what do I have to benefit from telling you? Surely all of you are not going to just let me off and allow me to leave. So I want to know the end game. What do <em>I</em> get for cooperating besides keeping my life and not being probed? I want to weigh my options before I tell anything." She finished, seeming to be done talking as she focused on eating her food. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>09-10-2016, 16:48:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His face was unreadable, calm, collected and unassuming as she had her say, which spread out into the the delivery of her breakfast and as she started eating. She did have a tendency to ramble, he realized. She liked the sound of her own voice. If this was her own voice, he thought with a small, hopefully hidden smile. She thought Americans had good coffee. She thought the CIA actually knew what they were doing instead of having their heads up their own asses with hundreds of different tendrils spread across the planet that refused to work with each other at the bottom and were bogged down in bureaucratic nonsense at the top. Whether she actually thought that the CIA was capable of finding its own ass in the morning without a map on the toilet paper would be a mystery for now, and while he would have loved nothing but to delve into that brain of hers right now, there was the small issue of a clock that they were on, and the fact that she hadn't exactly agreed to help them out.<br><br>Yet.<br><br>Yeah, sure, he might have profited from a couple more hours of sleep. He was resisting the urge to rub his eyes and yawn himself, but business was business. Even so, he stifled a yawn, a genuine one this time, behind his hand and leaned his head on his forearms, crossed in front of him on the back of the chair. The position wasn't exactly comfortable, but neither was his position with her. Who was to say if she decided that talking to the guys that had tortured her for weeks just wasn't a good idea and tried to turn the tables? He was about as expendable as yesterday's spaghetti that was left out on a warm Miami evening, but she might still think it would be a good idea to try and take him hostage in order to attempt an escape.<br><br>It was something he wanted to avoid at this juncture. His eyes flickered to her still-bandaged wrists and the way that she was rubbing them, his own fingers rubbing the back of the chair in an unconscious, empathetic gesture. <br><br>He smiled when she mentioned the KGB's lack of propensity towards five-star meals, jaw clenching.<br><br>"Well, CIA black sites aren't known for their serving's of escargot or grilled filet mignons. Unfortunately. I could do with a good steak right about now," That was neither here nor there, so he changed the subject quickly.<br><br>"Look," He said, mind still on that steak and wondering if he shouldn't have gotten some breakfast before coming in to talk with her," I've only been given the authority to offer you staying alive, untortured and un... probed, I guess. And I had 24 hours to get you on board. Of that time," He checked his watch," We have 12 left. The CIA is willing to offer more, but they are trying to play hard to get. Normally, I would recommend the same, but since we're kind of on a clock here, you need to switch up your game. Remember what I said. Bite-sized pieces at a time, make sure that you keep them... er, us rather, coming back for more. Keep yourself more useful as an asset than as a lab rat."<br><br>He raised himself up on his seat, looking her firmly in the eye now," So... give me a piece of valuable, verifiable intelligence, something that we don't have yet so that I can ensure your safety and well-being, as well as advocate some more time and more benefits from my bosses. I'll take it back to them, and tell them that if we want more, we had better be prepared to offer you more than just three meals a day in a cage in the middle of nowhere."<br><br>He was hungry, dammit. Why hadn't he thought of getting something to eat before. The gruel that they'd given her was beginning to look appetizing, for chrissakes. He blinked, forcing himself to focus," So what do you say, Brie? Can you help me help you here?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>13-10-2016, 03:59:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her main focus now was eating the rest of her food and listening to what "Nick" had to say to her. By far, he was the most personable male to come her way since she was arrested. And Brie was in the mood to play games with not only him but the CIA in general. She would tell them anything they wanted to hear about the CIA being so great or that she was terrified. Whatever she could say, she would. Brie could not even remember the last time that she <em>actually</em> told the truth. Her job was deception and lies, so much so that it infiltrated her daily life more time than not. If the CIA was anything like the KGB, they projected what they wish they could strive for. The CIA was bound by some rules. The KGB seemed to have no rules. Torture became a running game, trying to outdo each other in the most sadistic and violent ways. But more times than not, the KGB was left scrambling to make it out like they were all together. She was more than sure that the KGB was run by complete morons. In fact, she was positive as she had met them. <br><br>Brie looked up when he moved, placing a hand in front of his mouth presumably to cover a yawn. Yes, he was not hiding it as well as he hoped. She mirrored his action, yawning herself before taking another dreadfully long sip of the black sludge that was called coffee. At the mention of a steak, there was a throaty groan that erupted from her chapped lips. "Don't mention steak. I could really sink my teeth into a thick, juicy steak." She replied, licking her lips as she then looked down to her sorry excuse for a meal. Sadly, it was no steak. Whenever she got out of this place, she would be getting some real food first. <br><br>When he mentioned a small bite, Brie went ahead and stuffed a giant piece of meat into her mouth to make a statement. She chewed, the corners of her lips upturning into a smirk as she then swallowed. "Well now dear, I wouldn't mind <em>you</em> probing me." She mentioned, giving him a wink as she licked her lips. While the clock was ticking, Brie didn't make it out like imperative to tell him anything. She seemed to block out everything else he said as she finished eating her food. The room went silent after his last question, the sound of her chewing gladly filling the void. Once she downed the last part of the coffee, she placed her tray onto the floor before adjusting on the bed. She moved around, resting onto her back and closing her eyes. "Hummmmmm. Information you say..." She responded, relaxing into the firm bed. <br><br>"Volgograd. The CIA should really check into who owns Savva." She replied first off. Savva was a fairly well known restaurant. However, it was partially owned by a man who preferred to keep private. He wouldn't be probably on any radar though because he was incredibly good. He tied up his lose ends and Brie rarely got more than two words out of the man. Without saying it, Brie was mentioning that Savva was a part time safe house. As well, there was many illegal operations run via the KGB through Savva. But Brie didn't want to make it downright obvious. <br><br>"Foxtrot India Tango Bravo. Warsaw, Poland. 2nd of November at 1800." She mentioned slowly, cracking her eyes open and then turning her head to look at Nick. "Lima Echo Charlie Delta Sierra. Mosul, Iraq. 18th of October at 2300." She finished, arching her brows towards him. They were mid level operations. As in mostly the agents with a few missions under the belt were assigned to it. Brie wasn't going to give out the biggest missions right away to them. But too small of a mission and they would not allow her to leave. These missions were important, but not anything the CIA was probably hoping for. She was not going to tell them the big attack they had planned. She only knew of two to begin with and they were still in the planning phase. If she somehow ended up trusting them, maybe she would spill the rest of the details they craved. <br><br>Sitting back up, her eyes looked from Nick towards the one way mirror. "I am sure that is more than enough to keep the boys busy." She replied with a sigh, turned her attention back towards Nick. "So, about that steak... you want to offer to take me out for one? Or are you the type who likes the woman to make the first move? And they say chivalry is dead..." She replied with a chuckle, flashing a smile as she tilted her head up just slightly to gaze at him. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>22-11-2016, 02:50:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He leaned back as she started giving him things. Of course, he didn't need to be taking notes or anything. His job was simply to get her to start talking. The taking notes and fact checking would be someone else's department, and as such, held little interest to him. Avery had been at this business for a long time, not as long as some but longer than most, and the reason why he was stil a valuable asset, and alive besides, wasn't because of his skillset, or at least, not because of it alone. He had learned a long time ago, the easy way, that sticking your nose into company business that the company didn't want any noses in was the fast track to getting pushed away from the job, one way or another. His lack of interest, real or feigned, was one of the reasons why he was still in business for them. Why they trusted him enough to not retire him, forcibly or otherwise. He was good at his job, and good at doing it and nothing more. Leave the creativity and initiative to the analysts in Virginia, where they wouldn't be killed for knowing too much.<br><br>Still. He had to at least look like he was interested in what she had to sell. Even if he wasn't the one buying it.<br><br>Subtle body language. Leaning forward, his whole body pointing at her like he was a hound on the hunt. Eyes a little wider, eyebrows adjusted just a little higher than normal, ears perked, nostrils flared. Taking the time to absorb the information that she was giving, and then promptly forgetting it. Once she was finished, he smiled and raised an eyebrow at her comment of them having that steak together. Pale blue eyes danced as he stood up from his seat, careful not to get too close," Well, it'll be around 24 hours until we can verify this information as valid. If it is - and it's not that I don't trust you, it... well, it's that I don't trust you," He smiled again. She would understand. Hopefully.<br><br>"Anyways, if it is, the Agency will be assigning you a handler, someone that you'll be talking to more regularly. Giving your demands along with any other tidbits you feel like divulging. Until then, you'll be in here. You'll be fed, of course, and another trip to the shower room will be arranged, if you want it. I... don't think we'll be seeing each other again, unfortunately."<br><br>As enjoyable as her company was, he had to admit that he was looking forward to getting back to his much deserved vacation. He pushed the chair back into the spot that he had found it, and turned to the door, tapping lightly three times with his knuckles. The thick metal door buzzed and opened, and Avery stepped out.<br><br><hr><br>"I hope you boys were taking notes?"<br><br>The men in the observatory room grumbled the affirmative. It hadn't been like they had been trying very hard with the torture, but for a guy like Avery to just waltz in and do what they hadn't been able to do for weeks in less than a day was a severe blow to their ego. Avery had to admit that he was feeling a little elated about the whole thing. Even if she was lying, by the time that they discovered that, the 24 hours that he had been given would be up and Brie would be on her her way to New Mexico to start her new life as a lab rat. And he would be back home.<br><br>"We checked into the Savva place that she mentioned. In Volgograd, like she said. Seems like a pretty stand-up place. They have their site and everything," They showed him the screen of the restaurant's site. There was even an English translation of the page, as well as a handful of other European languages, showing the fine dining as one of the things not to miss on a visit to Volgograd. They failed to mention how a visit to the city itself was something to miss, but that was neither here nor there.<br><br>"Weird. She said it like it was a safe house or staging area of some kind. But that doesn't make sense. Why would the KGB be staging operations on Russian soil?" Avery growled, shaking his head, "Send it to Langley anyways. Fact checking is their department. Yours is to keep an eye on her. Don't let her try any tricks, but don't stay too close either. Budding relationships and all that. For all we know, she might have just offered us the first of many olive branches to come."<br><br>"Roger that."<br><br><hr><br>A nap on the couch, which was interestingly enough more comfortable than the cot one which he had spent the night. Just what the doctor ordered. He wasn't a part of the facility, and thus not called upon to do any of the errands that the others were being called upon to do. He was notified when she was given her meals, and any other changes, but other than that, he was mostly left to his own devices. Checking emails and social media wasn't allowed in government facilities, as there was the chance that any such outside interactions could be traced back, so for the most part, he was left catching what Z's he had missed out on during the previous evening. The audio and video recordings of Avery and Kessler's interactions, along with a printed transcript of everything said and done. It was up to the analysts to do their thing now.<br><br>The nap was rudely interrupted, however, by a poke on the shoulder.<br><br>"What?" He growled irritably, still feeling like a couple more hours of shuteye.<br><br>"AIC's here. He wants to have a word."<br><br>Avery scowled, but pushed up from his horizontal position on the couch. Fuck, his back hurt. And his eyes felt like they'd been rubbed with sandpaper. He stood as the man left the room, stretching, trying to get the creak out of his back as he did. Finding a paper cup with some lukewarm coffee inside, he sniffed it, winced and downed the rest of the liquid, making a face as he swallowed it.<br><br>Sometimes no coffee was better than bad coffee.<br><br>Adjusting his clothed and straightening his tie, he stepped out into the meeting room, where the Handler was seated, along with a couple other men in expensive suits and grey and balding heads. Avery scowled, but took his seat alongside the men in the room.<br><br>"We've dug into what she's told us, and so far, it checks out," The Handler said, after a few seconds of gathering his notes.<br><br>"It's only been," He checked his watch," 16 hours since we sent the info in. I thought you guys needed at least twenty-four."<br><br>"We don't. Not anymore. The intel that she's given us is being studied and sent out to field agents in Warsaw as we speak, and the restaurant... well, we know what we need to. We haven't made any moves yet, but now that we know, they can't make any without us knowing about it."<br><br>"That's... good, right?"<br><br>"Right. Brie Kessler's going to be upgraded from this facility to one in Boston. A safe house. Any demands, within reason, that she makes, will be met. We can't let her see her family just yet. That's something that we'll be dangling on the hook for a little while longer."<br><br>"Okay. Why are you telling me this? Aren't you guys going to be flying in a handler to babysit her?"<br><br>"We have."<br><br>"Fuck."<br><br>"You're going to be her handler for the immediate future, Agent Avery."<br><br>"I just got off mission, sir..."<br><br>"Your country needs you, son," The Handler said, with a firm voice that would book no opposition," You and her seem to have hit it off. She'll trust you more than she'll trust anybody we could fly in. You're our best bet of capitalizing on the information that she has. You know the drill. There's a chopper ready on the roof waiting to take you two to Boston. Get her ready. You have fifteen minutes."<br><br>The three men took all their papers and snapped them up in expensive briefcases, beginning to take their leave. Avery beat them to it though, fuming as he made his way to where Kessler was being held. He tapped the door once outside, and, when it buzzed, he pushed it open.<br><br>"Rise and shine," He said in a bright and cheery tone he definitely did not feel," The Agency's upgrading you from this dump to a more comfortable safe house in Boston. There's a chopper waiting for us, wheels up in five."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>24-11-2016, 02:31:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They were both playing each other. Each reading the way the other moved and playing the psychological game. Yes, she knew exactly what he was doing to her. Interrogations were just as much of a mental game as a physical game. The CIA had been rather lax with their treatment of her. She fully expected them to bring out the heavy things and the real torture. However everything they had thrown at her so far had simply been things that she had learned to deal with through the KGB. The waterboarding they had done was limited and she had learned a few tricks to save herself from most of it. Still, her shapeshifting abilities came in handy when the CIA least expected it. But she was not going to give away her secrets that easily to them. Although, Brie never understood why she had her powers or how she even got them. It was as much of a mystery to her as it was to anyone else. <br><br>He still kept his distance as he moved away from his seat, most likely worried that she could strike at any moment. There was a chuckle as he spoke about not trusting her. "And to think, I thought we had a connection. But not to worry dear. I didn't make it this far in my life by just randomly spilling secrets." She replied as she watched him. She did understand that he didn't trust her. The nature of their business was not to trust everyone. Trust was something that was earned through hard work. Hell, she knew that everyone was skeptical of the information she just divulged. However, there was something about this man that she felt...normal around. There was something about this man and she couldn't put her finger on it. Something...<br><br>He explained that she would be given a handler and that they would not be seeing each other again. With an overly dramatic pout of her full lips, she pouted and frowned. "And to think, I was thinking we were going to enjoy a wonderful dinner, followed by a nightcap and a romp in between the sheets. That saddens me darling but I guess it is for the best. American's are terrible lovers." She replied, a smirk soon to curl upon her lips. Her hazel eyes hungrily watched his movements as he approached the door, a buzz being heard before the man disappeared. Pity, she was truly enjoying his company around here. After all, he was the one nice enough to get her a hot shower and some sub-par food. Brie had a feeling he would be back in one way or another. This man had gotten information out of her in&nbsp; less time than anyone previously. <br><br>He would be back... <br><br><hr><br>Brie knew the game was she playing and she knew how they would react. No doubt the men behind the glass had been grumbling in their seats. Amazed that this man got what they needed within seconds it seemed. Surely their high and mighty egos took a massive hit. And that is exactly what Brie had hoped. To piss those men off and get under their skin. She loved to see the irritated looks on their faces as they got no where with her. Perhaps Brie really toed the line of being a insane a little <em>too</em> often. But mind games had been her defense for so long that she wasn't sure she even knew anything other than that. After all who was normal anyways?<br><br>The restaurant looked to be a very high class place. It was the type with pristine alabaster tablecloths, a myriad of silverware and a wine list that spanned pages on the menu. Their website was pristine, beautifully crafted with intricate designs and stunning photos of their delectable dishes. They would rave how many good ratings the had, how many Michelin stars they had. Everything seemed to be on the up and up there. However, no one came to Russia to visit Volgograd. People visited Russia for Moscow and the likes. So why would such a fancy restaurant be in such a small town?<br><br>Why would the Russians operate on their <em>own</em> soil? Because they were smug bastards. Plain and simple. They had covered their asses so well with Savva that only few knew of the link. It wasn't some place that was given out to any common criminal. One had to <strong>earn</strong> the right to learn of such a place. Brie had been one of those to earn the right but she still never earned the trust of the man who ran it. She learned of operations running through there but was never heavily involved in them. The things men would spill to her over simple pillow talk... <br><br>The most common was "business" meetings that would take place in the private rooms. As well, the wine cellar was only accessible to the owner of the restaurant and a few others. This is where, for the right price, the KGB would keep operatives and plan operations. Brie got a peek of these areas, saw enough to gather what exactly happened behind those doors. Brie wanted nothing more to obliterate the KGB. To wipe them off of the map. But she couldn't do it alone. The CIA was half way competent in helping her with her mission. Once the KGB was gone from her life, perhaps she could entertain the possibility of starting over. <br><br><hr><br>After her meeting with "Nick", she was given her space. Without making a demand yet, she decided to take the time to catch up on some sleep. Brie knew it would be restless sleep but at least it was better than nothing. It would give her tired eyes a small rest. She was roused by a buzz at the door, it being pulled open as Brie turned over to see who disturbed her. It was the older woman once again, holding a tray of food and her small medical kit. Without words, Brie moved to sit up and watched her. The woman approached, setting the food down and sitting next to Brie on the bed. She undid the previous dressings, checking to see that her wrists were now starting to scab over slightly. She repeated the process of cleaning the wounds and redressing them. Again, not a single word uttered throughout the whole process. She was soon off through the door, leaving Brie to her own devices. She looked down at her second meal of the day. What she assumed was a cheese sandwich, browned apple slices and some canned green beans. Appetizing. But Brie needed food so she wasn't going to complain just yet about the food. Soon she would be out of there and actually having some real food. <br><br>She allowed about an hour after her lunch before she stood up. Brie approached the mirror, primping herself as she tousled her slightly frizzy and waved hair. She would need to be getting some good beauty products. In a due time she reminded herself. "I would like to take a shower!" She called out, staring at the mirror. No doubt, she was most likely making direct eye contact with at least one of the men watching her. She curved her lips into a dazzling smile, batting her long and dark eyelashes a few times. Her look was innocent even if her intentions were not. This was her first official demand that she had made and it was for a shower. More demands would come later when she knew that she had leverage of some sort. Until then, a nice hot shower would suffice. The bandages would most likely need to be changed again but a shower was more important at the moment. After all, she could just avoid it anyways... <br><br>Brie turned on her heel, hair flipping behind her as she moved back over to the bed. She took a seat on the edge before looking towards the door. No more than five minutes later, there was the distinct buzz before Anderson appeared along with two guards again. Brie was a highly valuable asset and could not be trusted to behave. Then again, Brie knew that she wouldn't behave either. "Anderson." She simply replied as she stood. She knew the drill, turning her back towards them as she crossed her wrists at her lower back. Anderson was the one who produced a zip tie, securing her wrists before he spoke.<br><br>"Kessler." He replied, tugging her by her elbow. <br><br>Brie obliged, following as Anderson lead her out of the room. The guards flanked either side, a step or two behind Anderson and Brie. She knew exactly where they were going, part of the building already mapped out in her mind. She wasn't for idle chat with Anderson as he wasn't interested in it with her either. They remained quiet, only their footsteps echoing in the halls. As they approached the door, the ties were cut and she was given a ten minute shower this time. Once inside, Brie got undressed and found that there was yet another unappealing gray sweatsuit on the bench. What she would give for some good clothes... She shrugged off her clothes, arching her nude form as she stretched.<br><br>Before getting into the shower, Brie easily morphed her hands. Her hands bent back, fingers morphing to make a protective shield around the bandages on her wrists. Her palms would suffice for cleaning herself. She stepped into the hot shower, feeling the scalding water fall on her skin. She let out a long sigh, rolling her neck as she moved her body around in the shower. She didn't need as rough of a cleaning due to her shower the night before. However, a boiling hot shower had become something of a tradition with her. She learned long ago however, that boiling water wouldn't wash away a dirty feeling. <br><br>Out of the shower, she morphed her hands back and waggled her fingers before toweling herself off. After redressing, she appeared out of the bathroom and she was zip tied once again. The short walk to the cell was riddled with silence yet again. Brie was soon left in the room alone until dinner. The agency would be checking out to see if her information was valid and a handler would be assigned soon. Until then, she was left with her thoughts. <br><br>Dinner was no more appetizing than lunch. A piece of chicken or fish, some mushy carrots and bland mashed potatoes. Hey, food was food after all. Even if it was barely inedible... Brie decided to turn in early as she really had nothing to do. Her sleep had been so limited over the past several weeks that she needed some catching up to do. Sleep came relatively easily, even if she remained partially asleep. Brie couldn't even remember the last time she had deep sleep. There was always the worry of what could go wrong otherwise.&nbsp; <br><br>A buzz of the door, the heavy creak from the metal door. A voice was what made her fully come to. There was a smirk on her lips as she rolled onto her back, over to her side to face him. Her eyes opened, blinking a few times. "Mmm darling, I need a little more time. Why don't you come back in an hour?" She replied as her eyes closed for a moment. Her eyes soon opened back up and she sat up on the bed. Her arms extended over her head, her bruised tummy visible once again. "Well not like I have anything to change into." She replied, standing up and rolling her neck again. She brought up a hand to rub at her sore neck, letting out a groan. "I thought you wouldn't be seeing me again. What a surprise dear. I guess now you owe me that dinner and nightcap." She replied as she approached him. She knew he was guarded, watching her every move as she flashed him a toothy grin. Brie winked a him, eyes trailing from his to linger around his lips before traveling further. Her eyes stalked his form, darting and weaving around his body. "I enjoy a good scotch." She whispered slowly, her eyes slowly meeting his again as she took a step past him. Her arm ghosted near his, her fingertips gently brushing at his rough hand as she approached the door. She tilted her neck back, moving her hands behind her back with her wrists down at her lower back again. "Nice to see you again, <em>Nick</em>." She replied.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>20-12-2016, 03:41:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Yeah, you and me both, sister, he thought in what would have been a very growly and grumpy voice. Images of him buried in a pile made up of pillows and blankets with his laptop nearby playing something benign and ignorant to pass for entertainment alongside a much needed break from his regular diet in the form of pizza, pasta and chinese food started coming to mind as he kept his distance from his new assignment. There would be hoops to jump through, of course. Legalities and stuff that needed to be taken care of, but as things stood, he was stuck with her for the near future, perhaps longer. He had been giving her good advice, sure, for her benefit, but now that he was assigned to her, he realized just how he had shot himself in the foot. Fucked himself up bad. Up the proverbial shit creek without a paddle and a hole in the boat. She was going to be holding onto every piece of information that she had like the tiny little gold nuggets that they were, and he was going to stuck digging them out of her.<br><br>Just... fucking great.<br><br>"So... you're ready to go then?" He asked, trying to keep his voice upbeat and happy, and only half succeeding as his eyes scanned the room. He was still keeping his distance from her. Despite whatever help she was planning on being, she was still very dangerous, if his quick scan of her file was any kind of indication. And he didn't want his last action as an Agent, or even on the planet, to be him getting close enough for her to make her move. Whatever that was.<br><br>She was all smiles and flirtation, but she took the hint that they were in a hurry and, again, the red tape for transferring her could fill a stadium, so they had to get going. Security checks, all supervised by the agent in charge of the facility and Avery, making sure she wasn't carrying any weapons. Of course, they were dealing with a woman that could change her shape at a moment's notice. What exactly could they do if she decided to turn into something like the Hulk? Maybe she could, maybe she couldn't. They didn't know, and it wasn't like they could prepare for literally everything that she had to throw at them. The security check was a prayer, at best.<br><br>Bureaucracy at it's finest. Refusing to adapt to the brave new world for fear of it ruining its paperwork.<br><br>Finally, the warden signed off on Avery taking Kessler into his custody, and Avery countersigned, and finally with stiff farewells, the two moved to the helicopter, staying low as they moved under the rapidly rotating blades. Sure, the blades themselves would break upon impact, being made of such light material, but that was little comfort to whomever ended up with a head missing from the encounter. Better safe than sorry and all that.<br><br>Finally settled into the passenger seats, two burly guards who were there more for show than anything else, strapped Kessler into her seat and padlocked the belts before strapping themselves in. Avery and Kessler were both fitted with noise cancelling helmets with radio contact as the sounds of the rotors began to reach a whine and the helicopter shuddered on the pad and then took off shakily. Avery would never, ever get used to flying in these things. His fingers gripped his armrests and his face had gone a few shades between green and pale white as a little more turbulence hit them as they climbed higher.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Saving Face (Beautiful Mystery &amp; Deamonbane)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Beautiful Mystery</strong> on <strong>05-01-2017, 03:28:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Brie allowed her hands to be tied once again, a small roll of her shoulders. as he mentioned about being ready to go. "Oh no, I am not wearing the right clothes or have makeup on! Of course I am ready to go." She replied, the sarcasm dripping heavily off of her words. As much as the CIA was playing her, she was playing them right back. If she wanted to do damage to the KGB, she needed help. After all, her last informant sold her out to the CIA when he was caught. That rat bastard. She really did need to find Tony and "talk" to him about that...but that would have to be placed on a back burner for the moment. She walked as Nick got a good grip on her, walking her out of the room and into the small hallway. The guards reappeared as usual, making sure that Brie wouldn't try anything funny. Hell, Brie could do a whole list of things that they were not expecting. But she kept to herself, knowing that she needed things from them that she could not get on her own. It seemed as though they were on the same page and some mutual understanding. <br><br>Ah yes, paperwork. Brie watched as there was signing to do, documents to be notarized. It wasn't a very simple "Here is your prisoner, have a nice day." type thing. Paperwork to make sure that everything is done by the books and there is a record. Because heaven forbid something happened. The KGB didn't deal with this shit but they also weren't exactly government verified. At least, no one was supposed to know that they were backed by the government. Brie stood near Nick, humming as if she was an impatient child. Her tactics were to annoy the shit out of him. After all, maybe she was still a kid inside. She was robbed of a lot of her childhood by the KGB. But that was another story for a therapist. She could write a series of novels about the shit she went through. Perhaps that is what she would do if she ever retired. If she wasn't killed first that is. <br><br>They were soon making their way out into the open finally, her hazel eyes squinting at the blaring sunlight. It had been so long since she had been in the sun. She had just broken the five-week barrier last night. Almost a month and a half that she had been captured and forced to tell her secrets. But this man was the only one to get anything out of her. She made sure to stay low under the whirling black blades, the nondescript helicopter seeming to be buzzing in place. Brie was helped up inside as she still had her restraints on, scooting over to the passenger seat before she morphed her arms. She made her wrists and hands thinner, roughly one-quarter of their size as she easily slipped out of the restraints. She held the zip tie in her lap as she looked to the men who then strapped her into the seat. They were not at all amused with her little "antic" she just pulled and it prompted one of them to show his gun as a reminder. Whatever she did, she was not bulletproof. With the headphones over her ears, she looked over to Nick who was finally settled in. The helicopter lifted up off of the ground, wobbling slightly before he climbed higher. Brie watched as Nick gripped the edge of the armrests, his knuckles going pale ivory and his face flushed several various shades and colors. Was he not fond of heights? Or flying? Or helicopters? One of those was a possibility by the looks of his face. Brie had half a mind to tease and taunt him about it but she decided to keep quiet for now at least. There were very few things that phased Brie and flying was not one of them. <br><br>Their flight was about two and a half hours long, spent in complete silence on her part. Part of her time was spent looking out the window and another part was spent with her half sleeping. Her eyes were shut and she half dozed off but certainly was aware when one of the guards attempted to even touch her. It lead to her gripping his hand and twisting his wrist almost to the point of breaking. Of course, that ended with the other guard pulling his gun on her and pointing it at her head. Yeah, shooting someone in the middle of a flight made a whole lot of sense. Brie did let the man's wrist go and giving him a look before closing her eyes again. She did make sure to open them up as the neared Boston, eyes looking over the city. It was a city she had been to several times. It was very rich in its architecture, old charm with modern convenience as well. She had really enjoyed the times that she got to spend in cities with a rich culture. The helicopter wobbled slightly before finally touching down, the engine killed. They would have to refuel before heading back after dropping them off. <br><br>At this point, she was given over to Nick and they guards would no longer be with him. It was just Brie and Nick for the time being. Brie had a feeling Nick would be on edge and alert, making sure that she didn't try anything funny. But she was calm and behaved as Nick took her down from the roof to the parking garage where there was a car waiting. A short car ride and they pulled into the underground parking garage of a rather nice apartment building. Brie followed Nick as he lead her towards the elevator and up towards the 10th floor. He was quick to make sure to get her inside, not wanting people to stop and ask questions about them. He was quick to open up the door and lead her inside. There was a small and narrow hallway that extended into the living room. Nick finally let go of her, allowing her free reign for the first time in weeks. She took steps down the hallway, her shoes padding against the dark hardwood floor. <br><br>The walls were a warm gray color, inviting as she stepped into the open living room. It had taller ceilings than normal, making it feel as though it was much larger. The living room to her right was modest, housing an oversized, plush, dark gray couch that faced an alabaster marble fireplace. There was a TV hung over the fireplace, a few other odds and ends for decorations. It was minimal decorations, but just enough to make it feel like a home. She turned to her left, seeing a small area housing a dining table across from the kitchen. Brie moved over towards the dining room, then looking to the kitchen. It continued with a rather modern theme, dark wood cabinets, like gray countertops and a pristine white backsplash that matched the tile floors. It was equipped with nice appliances, stainless steel and offering a lot of counter space. Brie then gently moved back to the living room, seeing that there were two doors that most likely lead to a bathroom and bedroom. She opened up the one, turning on the light to see a generous bathroom. There was no tub, but in place a large walk in shower with glass enclosing it. The gray bathroom matched the kitchen, mixing white and gray tile on the shower, floor and counter. Again, rather nice but still very minimal. Not like they were going to spend a fortune on a place. Brie opened up the next door, revealing a decent sized bedroom with a Queen sized bed that had a simple white comforter. All of the walls were the same color and only the floor in the kitchen and bathroom were different than the hardwood floors. She smirked, then turning back to see where Nick had wandered off to. Probably the desk that was sitting against the wall in between the living room and dining room. While there were windows along this wall, they were much smaller. "Well dear, only one bed. I guess you really did want to have that romp in the sheets." She teased, moving towards him as if she was almost stalking her prey. "Now that we are here, I need clothes. You seriously cannot expect me to be stuck in this thing for weeks." She started, motioning towards the loose sweatsuit and then placing both of her hands upon her curvy hips. As she did so, her hourglass form was now more prominent in the loose fitting clothing. "I am sure you were told to give into my demands. This is my first one. I need clothes and underwear. Then again, I am sure you wouldn't object to me walking around naked." She mentioned, winking at him. "So take me shopping. At least you can tell me what looks good and what doesn't." She explained, adding an almost cackle at the end. The last thing Nick wanted to do was go shopping with her, sitting and watch her try on everything in the store. At least he wasn't fitting the bill for it. However, men were not fond of shopping no matter what. And Brie was going to use that to her advantage to work him. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>