donnez-moi-vos-vivres:

oldboyjensrps‌:

She had managed to make him laugh somehow. Messenger couldn’t help but grin awkwardly with the tiniest bit of pride at making it this far. Not dead and he broke character for a second? Wow, high five to you, you not dead mailman. 

As soon as René leaned to check the TV, Messenger stiffened. It wasn’t a fear response, however. She simply stood up straight, arms at her sides, and stared ahead, barely blinking. She was unfazed by his flipping the switch, and simply listened at attention to her employer as the static cleared.

“Oh good, I see the TV at least got to you in one piece. Messenger, status?” She drawled, looking almost bored.

“Alive, ma’am.”

“Congratulations. If you’d gotten yourself killed this would be all the more irritating. Well, I suppose you’re wondering what the job is.” She took a drag on her cigarette, letting the smoke cast a bit of an eerie filter over the video, “I have an associate in Chicago that you are going to pay a visit. He goes by the name Benny Goodwick and runs a bar and game-room called Prissy Lips-”

Messenger made an ‘ugh’ face at the name.

“which is where you will find him. We have a trade to make, and I am sending you with the intelligence to keep it secure, and to make sure Goodwick keeps his end of the deal. This is an escort mission. Eliminate or neutralize any threats to the intelligence, both on the way out and the way back. Do you have any questions?”

An irritated sigh escaped René’s lips as he reached for the cigarette case in his jacket pocket. It sounded for all intents and purposes like a fairly simple mission: get in, sign a deal, and get out. But knowing the types of people the Administrator kept contact with, he had an inkling that this mission would be anything but simple. Nothing was ever quite so straightforward with Helen. Besides, just judging from the type of establishment the associate went by and the name of said establishment, René was already internally bracing for the overwhelming smells of cheap alcohol and bad musical taste. His eyebrows furrowed more and more as the Administrator spoke, clearly rather unhappy with the mission. He did not like the way this sounded: the simplest of briefings were often for the most complicated missions.

Fishing a cigarette out from the case, he flicked open his lighter and lit it, taking a deep drag before speaking.

“I assume I will be working alone,” he replied, “But is there anyone else I need to keep track of? In addition…” The Spy thought for a moment. “Transportation will be provided, yes? I hope I’m not expected to walk all the way to Chicago… It’s rather far from New Mexico, after all.” There were plenty of things that the Administrator wasn’t telling him. Plenty of extremely important things. “I also expect to receive a briefing of the man in question as well as his associates. There’s also the question of resources: what kind of equipment will be provided, and how much? I do not want to go into this blindly.”

“That was meant as a cursory ‘any questions.’”

Messenger shot René an apologetic look, even though she knew he was probably already very aware of Helen being… like that.

“Predictably, everything you just asked will be covered at the team briefing. Which starts now. To cover your first round of questioning, Messenger?”

“…Yes ma’am?” She had a bad feeling about this.

“You will be carrying the intelligence for this assignment. It’s sealed in the packet I gave you earlier.”

Messenger’s face drained of color and she looked down at the TV.

“To Chicago?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, yes Chicago. Goodwick refuses to play nice with my grunts, so you are the only viable option. Will this be a problem?”

“I, uh, no ma’am.”

She shoved her hands into her pockets.

“Fantastic,” she re-focused on René, “As for transportation, the Pit has finished outfitting a vehicle for your use. Since you will be driving, Messenger will brief you verbally on Goodwick and his entourage. Give him the grey folder.”

Messenger nodded rapidly and fished out a grey Manila envelope stamped with “confidential” and held it out for the spy.

“Your IDs, fakes, and information on your cover identity and appearance-mask included- can be found in that file. Most of the gear in the vehicle is defensive: bullet proofing, poison, etcetera. You have also been wired a front payment of $2000 to purchase anything more you think could be helpful blah blah your additional incentives are listed in your ID packet. Any further questions?” She asked, clearly ignoring messenger’s hand poking into the corner of the screen.