2010-03-21: Down and Dirty



Date: March 21, 2010


Poor Tracy, all she wanted was a bit of chocolate but Cody's too greedy to share.

"Down and Dirty"

Top Secret Apartment - The Basement

It's a dull and dank day outside, inside is a constant reminder of wrong doing and failure, which might be why Cody is hiding in the basement of the warehouse. Her skinny legs peek out from underneath a dilapidated VW wagon that's been hoisted up onto a set of blocks. The wheels are stacked neatly in the corner and laid out on a towel is a neat row of tools, all in pristine condition.

tink tink tink

tink tink tink

Who knows what mechanics do underneath the carriages of vehicles, most of the time Cody doubts they even know. Right now, she is trying to loosen a bolt in order to remove the oil pan. Unfortunately there's about 20 years of rust and dirt caking it.

If someone is working toward the same goal as you, and they happen to be a trained agent of some kind, intelligence dictates that you exercise caution in sneaking up on them.

Thankfully, Tracy isn't stupid.

She appeared quite silently in the same manner in which she visited last time, but now she gives a soft knock-knock-knock on the wall of the basement-turned-garage, faintly musical, purposeful. Instead of checking every corner of the building, looking for Erin without knowing who hides behind every closed door, here she stands, a good distance from Cody and the old vehicle she works on, dressed similarly as last time: a neat monochromatic assortment of wet clothes in the form of a black sleeveless shirt, better suited beneath a blazer — that's missing — and grey slacks. Granted, can't be sure it's Baker under there. It's not as if she's familiar with the agent's legs.

The sound of the knock is exactly when the last bolt breaks loose and drops the oil pan directly on Cody's face. There's the loud sound of cursing, lots of cursing, before the newly blackenned body and face of the agent rolls out from underneath the car on a tiny plank with wheels. She hasn't made any indication that she's noticed the sneaky woman yet, preferring to grab the first available towel to wipe the dark oil off her skin. It doesn't really work, so Tracy is treated to someone that looks like she's stepped out of a 1940's era black and white movie.

As she methodically begins to rub the dirt and grime from her fingers, she looks over at Tracy and raises one of her Groucho Marx eyebrows. "Erin should be upstairs, if you're looking for her." The blue eyes peer at the former aide and narrow slightly as if the agent is trying to deduce exactly why the woman is standing in front of her. "Unless you're here to help me get this heap running."

"No, I'm afraid mechanics isn't my strong point," the woman answers, a hint of amusement to her otherwise cut-and-dry factual tone. While Cody is covered in dirt and oil, Tracy is soaked and completely clean. "I'll get to Erin," says the agent's current polar opposite. "Noticed you have some other people staying here." Dark blonde brows pique upward slightly as she regards Cody with continual examination. "They were rescued?" It's barely a question, sounding more like a statement that she's seeking simple confirmation on.

"Yeah, one massive weapon of mass destruction, one weapons grade, and one slated for re-evaluation. The other one was dropped off at a bus station earlier yesterday." It's lovely how the agent thinks about her guests, completely clinical and noncommittal. Almost as though she doesn't want to invest the energy getting to know them before they do something stupid to betray her or the one she considers a room mate and friend. "I was hoping we'd get more, but we don't have the room here to put up any more of them. Plus, the squirrel on speed hasn't gotten in contact with us lately for another drop." After her hands are completely clean, Cody begins to work the towel up her wrists. It's somewhat strange, she doesn't use water and soap, preferring to dip the towel into a sandy mixture in a small bucket near the sink.

The clinical facts masquerading as real people don't seem to bother Tracy — she doesn't know them. She accepts the information with a slow nod of understanding, considering. While 'squirrel on speed' throws her for a loop for a second and she gives Cody an odd look, she realizes quickly that she must mean Erin's sister. "Mm," she voices in a comprehending murmur. "Well listen, I don't know if Erin told you— " Apparently not. " — but I have room, if you need to siphon some've these… refugees… somewhere else," she says, somewhat… impatient, annoyed, for an offer. But it's an offer, and well-meaning, even if she makes it sound like an imposition. "Plus, there are other safehouses. I can bring them, if more people need a place to go." Her study of Cody is critical throughout.

Turning to look at Tracy, Cody nods once and then looks up at the myriad of vents and pipes that mask the ceiling above them. "If any of them want to go someplace else, I'll consider it, but to tell you the truth I'd rather they all stay put now that they know where we live." The critical study goes either unnoticed or unnoted by the former AP agent. "It's easier to keep track of them if they're right under my nose." She comments idly, still working that sandy mixture ofer her skin. "That way I know for sure they're not going to turn Erin over." No concern for herself, as far as she knows Alpha Protocol doesn't have an inkling of what she's capable of.

More logic Tracy can get on board with, perhaps even commendable, but the look she gives Cody is now skeptical. She takes a step forward, though she doesn't venture far across the undoubtedly dirty floor. "I know you likely don't have much've a reason to trust me, but it sounds like I'm looking out for the same things you are." Except for Max. Wisely, she doesn't go there, save to pause and say: "…well. Mostly." More to the point: "But I wouldn't let that happen either."

There's a swift glance toward the former senatorial aide and Cody just shrugs one shoulder. "Erin trusts you, that's good enough for me. Besides, if you were planning on turning her over to save your own skin you'd have done in a while ago, wouldn't you?" That the only comment given to Tracy regarding that issue. Then, the dirty blonde reaches into her pocket to take out a very squished chocolate bar and unwrap it. It's a little bit disgusting because even the wrapper is coated in grease, something that doesn't seem to bother the shorter woman in the least.

Tracy did turn Erin in to save her own skin but that's neither here nor there. It's in the past. An expression of disgust runs across her face unabashedly, however, but since their topic of conversation is not Cody's habits… she moves along. "I…" Mostly. Gross. "…Erin knows how to contact me." It seems a parting statement, but the wet-haired blonde goes nowhere just yet. "If you don't mind me asking— how'd you get involved in all this?"

Cody is currently chewing on a bit of that disgusting chocolate bar and looking at the broken down vehicle. After swallowing, she turns to look at Tracy and grimaces a little as the taste of motor oil coats her mouth. "I'm after one of the weapon buyers. I got into the program to try to find him." There's a small pause as Cody considers taking another bite and risking more of the taste or starving in order to avoid all of the people upstairs. In the end, her rumbling stomach wins out and she takes yet another bite. "You know, if you're looking for a new angle… You should apply at Lane Industries, they're very interested in people like us. And connected to buyers."

"Buyers," Tracy repeats, the word unpleasant. It means bad news. She shakes her head at the thought of buyers for these "weapons" already being lined up. "… Lane Industries, the defense contractors?" Considering, she sends a narrow-eyed, curious look Cody's way, trying not to watch her eat. (Still gross.) "A good angle," she admits, "But it might be running a little hot. If you haven't noticed, I'm supposed to be dead."

Shrugging, Cody gives the other woman a quirked eyebrow. "So am I, termination ordered a few weeks ago. If you'd like to work up that bit, let me know and I'll fix you up with a better disguise than hair dye." That last bite of the chocolate bar did it and the agent just tosses the remainder into the pile of greasy rags that are slated for disposal. She might change her mind later on though. "That stuff washes out, or you get roots. Neither of them are a good thing."

"Tell me about it." Why do you think she went back to her natural blonde? Tracy seems to consider the option seriously, but comes to no quick conclusion. "I don't have to work for them to find out what they're up to," she adds matter-of-factly. This newfound aspect of her ability has many uses, and one of them is spying. On that thoughtful note, she takes a backpedaling step the way she came. "'ll go find Erin," she says with a hooking gesture over her shoulder before beginning to make her way out.

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