2007-04-06: Back In Black


Erica_icon.gif Stuart_icon.gif

Summary: Captain Snow encounters the retired SAS man again and is forced to make a partial confession.

Date It Happened: April 6th, 2007

Back In Black

Near the Empire State building and later the NYSE, Manhattan, NYC

Night falls over the Big Apple, this city that never sleeps. It's just past eight p. m. when the tall woman emerges from her apartment. This time she's clad all in black and wearing gloves, her clothing thick against the colder air. In her pocket is a ski mask. Some time later she's in the area of the Empire State Building and looking it over, her goal to find some secluded part of the outside and go about her business.

As to Stuart, he's just dropped off a bigwig at a party and is.. stuck in traffic nearby. Still, this gives him plenty of time to enjoy his music, the big SUV's sound system thumping and pounding and wailing Iron Maiden at frankly obnoxious volume. Oh well, at least he's having fun.

"Damn." Erica mutters to herself as no spot seems to fit her goals, and so she begins walking toward the building itself. "Not sure if the thing is still open at this hour on a Sunday, Maybe I can just take the elevator to the top if it is and go that way." Feet move, soon she's about to cross the street and have a look at things, to find out if she has to pick another tall building altogether.

Thumping away on his dashboard, Stuart looks up just in time to see Erica about to cross the road. He honks his horn, winds the window down and calls out, "Captain!"

The tall woman stops and approaches the car when her rank is called out, the voice a bit familiar to her. The limo definitely is. Coming around to the driver's side, she calmly greets the Regiment Man. "Good evening, Sergeant. I hope work's treating you well." Inwardly she's wary, this is not so much a person she would want to be seen by dressed this way. In her mind, he's probably done a job or thirty in such garb himself and knows what it could mean.

The music gets turned down, not off, just down as the man looks Erica over, "Its a warm place to sit," Stuart says, grinning and raising an eyebrow, "Since its so cold out.. Its a nice look on you anyway, burglar-chic." he adds, with a chuckle. "Need to climb in and warm yourself up, or are you waiting for the squadcar?" he asks, after a moment or two, "Unless I'm presuming too much."

Her head shakes a time or two, and she crosses around to the passenger side, there her fingers seek to open the front door so she can get in and talk. Erica takes the time spent walking in front of the vehicle to compose herself and work up some kind of cover story for what she's doing. Classified ops? Surveillance on a wayward airman under her charge at the recruiting station? She hopes he'll keep whatever she decides to say between them, if he even buys it.

"Bit late for tourists," Stuart says as the airman gets into the limo with him, "Though, thinking about it, I've been here for 5 years and I've never been." He pauses then, to honk his horn and yell, "ITS GREEN, ARSE!" out of his window, "Sorry about that."

"I understand, sergeant," Erica replies. "I'm working on something sensitive, you see, and the recruiting assignment is part of it. I shouldn't really say anything, but you've seen me and I don't doubt you know something is up. The exact nature of things I'm not at liberty to discuss, however, and I'll thank you not to ask." Her tone is professional and confident, the words calmly spoken. But it's thin, so thin. The Captain purely sucks at lying.

"I'm not with the Regiment anymore, Stuart is who I am now," He says, with a wink, "So, theres something hush-hush going on and you're here skulking about doing what, recon, right?" Stuart asks, shaking his head. "Hows about you tell me what you're actually doing here and I don't decide we both might be better off at a club?" he offers, after an audible click indicates the central locking in the vehicle has kicked on, "I mean, wheres your handlers?"

"And my name is Erica," she replies, giving up the lie. Her head turns to face the man and make eye contact. "What I'm doing is private and personal, Stuart. It's not criminal, it's not connected to the armed forces in any way, or any other government agency. I am doing recon, for my own purposes. I could tell you what they are, but you'd not believe me." This statement is true. "So I'll just say it involves an extreme form of recreation which doesn't involve any drug, other than the chemicals of my own body."

It takes a few moments of staring at Erica for Stuart to unlock the doors, "Well, its a pleasure to meet you then, Erica," he says, at length, "You mean like.." he trails off, not wanting to imply anything offensive, ahha.. "You mean like that Parkour thing where the nutters run from roof to roof?" he manages, smiling, "Didn't strike me as one of them extreme sports types."

"Something like that," Erica replies with a chuckle. "I'm very much into the adrenaline rush it gives me. I have to do something to make up for not flying fighter jets while I'm stationed here. Nothing is perfect. The place I was before is in the New Mexico desert. I flew, but the area is so barren. New York has vibrancy and life, but no piloting, so… That's the basics. I'm addicted to adrenaline."

"Oh, I see," Stuart says, not seeing at all, "Thought you were about to say, "I can fly" and then I'd /know/ you were fucking with me." he adds, looking up at the building again. "Strikes me as a little tall for roof-to-roof jumping," he says, turning back to look at Erica, "You can't fly, or spit fire or overpower locomotives or such, can you? Christ, I'd have egg on my face if you could."

A grin spreads across her face as the questions are asked, and Erica answers with one of her own. "What would you say if I told you I could fly, Stuart? You'd go calling the guys in the nice white coats to come get me, right?" She's watching for his reaction, expecting it to be something along the lines of 'you must be joking' or 'that's impossible'.

"I'd say, "I can't talk to you any more, please get out of my car." Stuart says, "Probably followed up with "Don't ask why, just do it." since I like you. Then I'd call my friends in the white coats, but at least you'd have a head start on them." He looks back at his dashboard, then to the cars in front, then at the roof of the limo, with a sigh, "Secrets act, see."

That's… interesting. Erica watches the man for a bit longer, a smile still on her face. "Then I won't tell you I can fly. Well, I can, you know, but planes are neccessary for that. About what I'm doing, well, the service might not look kindly on it, so I prefer not to be too well known for it, if that makes any sense." She pauses for a moment, and laughs for another. "You didn't say one thing I thought you would, that you'd not believe such a claim."

The man just laughs, "You see weird and wonderful stuff when you're a grunt, s'all," Stuart says, "Like pretty redheads breaking into tourist traps, for example." He drums on his dashboard some more, apparently very happy to have a change of subject, "Sounds like a laugh though, need a hand? I've the night to myself till like three."

"I could use some assistance scouting out tall buildings and places to approach them unseen," Erica replies with a chuckle. "But as for the activity itself, well, I like that private. No witnesses." She glances ahead through the window, and asks "How long have you been in New York, Stuart?"

"About 5 years, driving for Primatech," Stuart says, driving in a very defensive and professional way as the traffic begins to thin, "See, its difficult to tell where would be a good place if I don't really know what you're doing. Also, y'know, no matter what my weakness for redheads is telling me, I'm not really sure if I want to help you, see? I mean, you're dressed like a- dammit- cat burglar.." The mild curse there comes as someone cuts him off, "So, aye, basically, I can drop you off wherever, or you can tell me what it is you're up to."

"Okay," she replies quietly, having hoped he wouldn't press and being disappointed. Erica looks around, spots a tall building which looks like there's dark space without people alongside it, and gestures slowly. "Over there, that one." Maybe it's the New York Stock Exchange headquarters, suitably dark and without many people around on a Sunday evening. "Thanks for listening, I'm… really sorry I can't tell the full story."

"No problem," Stuart says, as if understanding completely as he pulls over, "Tell you what though, take this, and give me a call sometime, we'll have a drink and talk shop about the services." and he pulls a business card from the ashtray (which is otherwise unused, aside from change) and hands it over. "The cell number gets me here, the work number is just a voicemail," he says as he holds it out, smiling, "have fun with your basejumping or whatever."

She takes it, and shares her own number. 283-8723. "Thanks, Stuart," Erica replies with a smile. "I hope you have a quiet evening driving around the city." His card is pocketed, and she opens the door to step out. Once free of the vehicle she strides quickly over to the dark zone along the side of that structure, and vanishes from view, unless he happens to be following her and watching.

Stuart isn't watching, since he's lambasting himself about being useless with the ladies.

Some short time after she vanished along the building's side, Erica dons the ski mask to cover her face and hair, taking advantage of the darkness and her black clothing to conceal her as she draws in a breath and rises from the ground, floating toward the roof above, her body close to the wall for the added cover of shadows. A smile settles onto her face, able to make use of the abilities and hoping to spot that guy with the greek letter again.

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