2010-02-06: FB: Live Cargo



Date Set: August 7, 2009


Cody needs a smuggler; a friend of a friend recommends one that's been out of the business for awhile.

Six Months Ago…

"Live Cargo"

A Church — Cork, Ireland

It's late Thursday evening when Cody finally makes it into the city for her rendezvous with a contact that a friend of a friend of another friend set her up with. Pulling a small red kerchief from her pocket she tucks it into her back pocket before crossing the road to the cathedral. Where better to meet a smuggler than a Church? It's in those pews where all of the business dealings of the black market go down.

The sun sets in the west just as Cody's hand reaches for the door to pull it open. There's always a Priest or two in the priory, ready to take the confession of a sinner or watch over a lost sheep as they light a candle or two. Giving a swift look around the place, she pulls the hanky out of her pocket and folds it around her left hand, using her right to cross herself as she enters the threshold.

The figure of a dark-haired man lights one of the candles at the front of the Church. His faded leather jacket, faded blue jeans, and hiking boots have seen better days, but then he hasn't worn them for some time. Turning away from the candles, Brayden moves towards a pew and seats himself facing the front. His nose is purple (although no longer bloody) and his knuckles are bruised. But his time at the monastery has come to a close, for now. They suggested he rethink his life, his direction, everything, really. With a sigh, he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and stares at the front in quiet contemplation. He's here on a job. Smuggling had always been his personal specialty and so his old crew told him he could have a job should he choose to — particularly on his monk-hiatus.

With a sigh he recognizes the irony of lighting a candle in a Catholic church when only days earlier he was a monk in a Buddhist monastery. The irony draws a smile to Brayden's lips.

In his hands he carries a carved celtic cross that he holds in front of him. It has a distinctive pattern carved into it — the Irish crew's symbol. Brayden has a tattoo of it on one of his shoulders, this of course, is covered by his red and green plaid shirt and leather jacket.

Cody is kneeling in one of the pews, her head bowed down, the hanky in plain sight of anyone that passes by. The cross is noted and she clears her throat softly, keeping her head bowed down and face out of sight should he decide to jet before taking the job. Not many of the underground trust strange women, but her contact said that maybe this man is definitely not one of those. In fact, there were comments quite to the contrary. Her curly blonde crown is still bowed as she lifts her blue eyes in his direction and then flitting to the pew in front of her. A silent bid for him to sit.

The smuggler-turned-monk-returned smuggler glances around the room and then catches sight of the hanky. With a smirk, he stands from his current pew and then slides next to her. "Beautiful August night to be inside, don't you think?" Brayden asks with an easy smile that produces two deep dimples carved into his cheeks. And then as a kind of sidebar he adds with a wink, "Nice hanky." The words are stated as he rolls the cross over in his hands.

The backpack next to the woman is hugged just a little closer as the man slips into the pew in front of her. "Beautiful August nights are like a gift from Heaven, I haven't seen many of them." she says bluntly as she tucks the red square away into her back pocket as she leans forward just a little to assist. Once that's finished, she rises and grips the backpack, swinging it onto one shoulder. "Why don't we go enjoy it in the garden near the Manse?" It's always been a little feature, on top of that it doesn't echo as much as the empty church.

Cody slides from the pew and leads the way to a side door hidden by a velvet panel. She seems quite familiar with the building oddly enough. Pausing just on the right side of the curtain, she waits for Brayden to catch up with her before opening the door and heading outside.

Sure enough, Brayden slides out of the pew, following her to the side door. With a grin, he follows her. He is much easier to deal with compared to the general smuggling sort. "The garden it is." He steps through the door and into the green space, still grinning. He waits for her to catch up before he shrugs slightly, "I don't exactly know what you need… moved." An interesting turn of phrase all things considered.

After they slip out into the garden, Cody relaxes a bit and turns to face Brayden. "First of all, are you absolutely sure you can get it to the United States tomorrow? I don't want to waste either of our time here." She's all business for now, apparently her precious cargo is a little too important to wait for small talk. "I also need to know how much you're going to charge." With all of her cards laid out on the table, she turns to face him fully and heaves a long breath. "You can call me Tiffany, by the way." No real names, she's already had her cover blown, she doesn't need the return trip tracked as well.

"Right. Tiffany," Brayden grins with a nod and an offered handshake, "Brayden. Brayden Calvert." Clearing his throat, he tries to suppress his grin, but fails miserably, "And yes, I can get it into the US tomorrow. I have a few ways of doing it depending on the size of the cargo. But you'll have to trust my methods. There somewhat… unconventional. Particularly for smaller cargo." He lifts both of his eyebrows before shrugging at the fee part, "And honestly, the price depends on the size of the cargo. Smaller is clearly cheaper — several hundred quid at least."

"It's a human sized package, me." Cody says, lifting the corners of her lips in a small smile. "You're the expert, as long as I arrive under the radar and alive.. and in one piece… I'll pay you as much as I need to." Seeing some of the priests looking their way, she reaches over and hugs herself close to Brayden as they stroll along. It gives the illusion to all onlookers that they're just a couple of travelers taking in the romantic ambiance. "It's good to meet you Brayden, so I hear you're the best at this."

Brayden whistles with a grin. "I can transport you well under the radar, but… it's unconventional." He stares at her incredulously, but he's still grinning as they stroll along together. "And it's good to meet you Tiffany. Well, I have a talent for moving cargo under the noses of the feds. Buuuuuut, you'll be my first job in a few months…" he shrugs a little, "stepped out of the game for awhile, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve still." At this he winks.

"Good, so how about me and my backpack?" Cody glances up at him, not fully trusting him to allow him to take the thing off her hands. Then she hugs a little closer and murmurs to him, "Pick me up and twirl me around, like they do in the movies. See if I'm too heavy." There's a few things in the backpack she can live without, she'd really just prefer not to. She turns and wraps her arms around his neck and smiles up at him, just as one of the priests does a little walk by of his own. "After that, I think I could probably go for a pint and a shower."

Sure enough Brayden follows the instructions, wraps his hands around Cody's waist, and then twirling her in a circle. "Couple hundred quid then. You and I can travel for cheap, but you have to be open to fairly… open travel." He smirks a bit. Fortunately he won't be seeing this lady again, and he'll try to disappear back into the monastery after all of this is said and done. "I still have my old flat here. It'll be in rough shape, likely, but the shower should work and there's a pub nearby…" Not the Wandering Rocks; he can't handle the idea of Caitlin seeing him here.

"That's it then? You have yourself a deal Brayden Calvert. I can be very open to any type of travel arrangement you have to offer, as long as I don't have to walk underwater, I'm good." When he puts her down again, Cody snuggles up to his arm and leads the way to the gate. She doesn't expect to see him again after the trip is over, and as long as he can get her out of this country and into the other one undetected, then she's golden. "Your place sounds great. Do you have a real bed? Not just a cot? Because if you do, I think I may just have to fall in love. I haven't had a real bed in almost a year."

"Nah. No walking underwater, I promise. Besides, I'll do the work," he winks. "It's a real bed. I left it here, when I — " Brayden grins, but stops midsentence anyways punctuating it with a shrug. "You haven't slept in a real bed in that long? Seriously? I can't imagine… although… I did it for a month and a half. It wasn't great. That's actually the one relieving thing about being here again." He shrugs with an easy smile, "It's just around the corner."

About 30 minutes later, Brayden has a blonde in his shower, belting out old 70's disco tunes. She's really not shy about it either, she also doesn't have a great singing voice. But it's a hot shower and you can't say no to one of those. The backpack is just outside the door to the bathroom, which has been left ajar so that her baggage is always in sight. Whether he gets a glimpse or not, that's really not a concern, she's been in the military long enough that probably half of the Eastern Seaboard has shared a shower with her on one occasion or another.

After all the hot water's been liberated from the confining tank and only runs cold, Cody finally steps out. She's wrapped in a fluffy white towel and her blonde hair seems quite a few inches longer while wet than dry. She's got a smaller hand towel and is busily scrunching the curls when she spots him. "Thanks for the shower, it's been about as long as the bed since I've had a good one of those too." It seems that the woman is really not used to things most people take for granted in every day life. Then she spots the bed and a longing groan seeps from her lungs before she practically falls into it.

Brayden places a six pack of Heineken onto a nearby small table before opening it and tossing a can towards Cody. "I'm not sure it was the best shower — hasn't been used in a while, but the water's warm at least." He stretches as he turns away from the blonde wearing the towel. He's supposed to be a monk, even if he's been temporarily expelled, but man, Tiffany is leggy. So instead, he faces the wall and tries to focus on business, "So where do you want to touch down in the States?"

A hot shower, a bed, a beer… Brayden sure knows how to treat a girl! She catches the can in midair before falling back onto the bed again and closing her eyes. It's been much too long since she's had these sorts of comforts. "You don't have to be sure of anything Brayden, but I'm sure it was the best shower I've had in over six months. You have no idea…." Her voice drifts off, she's already said enough to make him guess at her life but when he asks about her destination? Her eyes flutter open again and she stares up at the ceiling. "I need to get to North Carolina. I need to be there by the ninth, so we only have a couple of days. Are you sure you can get me there?"

"I can get us there… it's… not the hard part," Brayden says as he turns to face Cody. His expression is slightly grave before he hmms. He can't leave this until the last minute in case the scenario makes her gun shy. "Look I'm going to show you how I intend to travel… don't freak out." He marches to the window and closes the blinds before he stands in the centre of the room again. He gently kicks off the ground and hovers in the air before he comes down again, "We can land anywhere. Better outside of a city though…"

Another one, Cody's small smirk and the twinkle in her eye gives Brayden more than an indication that she's far from freaking out at that point. "Don't worry Brayden, I won't freak out. I think it's probably the best way to travel." She sits up on the bed and holds the towel up against her chest, her eyes follow his little solo flight and stay on him well after he lands again. Then she's up and headed toward her backpack to pull out some clothes. She really does travel light because all she has to wear is a tank top and a large scarf to wrap around her hips. From one of the pockets in the backpack, she produces a set of flip flops and tosses them to the ground. Once again, she's really not the least bit shy because the door is left mostly open when she goes to change.

Curious. No freak out one way or another. Interesting. The reaction is met with a broad grin as he pads to the bathroom and raps on the door even if it is open. "You met a flying man before, then?" he asks with a still present smile. He swallows hard as he gets a glimpse of the blonde changing, and averts his eyes.

Cody is just pulling the tank top over her torso when Brayden walks in. She straightens it out calmly and gives him a smirk before pulling the large scarf around her lower half in a sarong. "No, I haven't, actually. I was just sure you existed." Now is as good a time as any to reveal her own secret, after all, it'll save his freak out when she wakes up as either Powder or Chewbacca in the morning. She sidles up to him, slides her hand up the door frame and leans on it. Then, as she stares into his eyes, her hair begins to lengthen until it reaches down to her waist.

"Woah! That is amazing!" he grins broadly at the lengthening hair. "So you can make it grow at will." His lips curl upwards into a grin before he momentarily averts his eyes again. But then something occurs to the former monk; he's theoretically not a monk anymore, instead he's supposed to be rethinking monkdom and his life in the order. Wouldn't rethinking involve some less-than-monkly-acts? And so he turns to face her. "That's an awesome gift," he says smoothly as his hand lifts to touch the golden locks; he always had a thing for blondes…

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License