Operation: Melittology
Dec. 1st, 2007 07:27 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMarie-Ange is in European with Remy, working on maintaining their intelligence network, when a bit infomation catches her attention.
There was a loud chunk as the train passed Pankrac station; a sort of sideway shudder and bang that flickered the lights for a moment and made people grab for the handrails. Remy suppressed a smile as he read his newspaper from a seat at the end of the subway car. The metro in Prague had improved drastically since the first time he'd ridden it in the late eighties, and he wondered how Marie-Ange was taking it all in from her vantage point down in the middle of the car.
Maintaining the complicated intelligence network that they had set up was more than a full time job, using everything from cut-away to front companies to handle the delivery and receipt of information. Normally, they used third parties to handle their physical drop boxes and exchanges, funneling the encrypted data through blindly. But highly sensitive ones had to be done by hand, which is why the younger members of X-Force occasionally found themselves handling the more mundane drops under the watchful eye of one of the more experienced members of the team. They'd learned a lot of fieldcraft and techniques over the last year and a half, but nothing was a substitute for real physical experience.
Remy had boarded first, in Chodov, with his paper and umbrella, looking remarkably non-descript, like an accountant or a manager. When Marie-Ange had got on at Kacerov, they had made no noticed of each other, seeming to concentrate on their individual interests.
Had she more time then just a few hours, Marie-Ange would have liked to have done more then pretend to be a tourist. Prague was beautiful, and all she got to see was an airport, a taxi stand and a few subway stations. And every other commuter in the Czech Republic who was on
her train.
Inside the nearly full car, she stood, one hand on a pole and the other fiddling with the controls of an iPod, seemingly oblivious to the crowd and people.
The doors rattled open, and a man got into the car with the crowd, struggling to pull off his long coat without dropping his case. As he shuffled, he turned, bumping into Marie-Ange and the woman next to her. He muttered an apology in Czech, and turned, finally swinging his coat into a carryable position. As he did, Marie-Ange felt his hand squeeze her buttock once, before he finally shifted to the other side of the aisle and took a hand hold.
Remy looked at his watch. In two minutes, they'd be at the transfer point, which was Marie-Ange's stop, and less than five after that, at his own exit by the bridge.
Marie-Ange rolled her eyes at the clumsy commuter, and from all appearances, simply resettled herself and adjusted the volume on her iPod. She took a quick mental inventory of what she'd been carrying. Wallet, and travel documents in the inside pocket of her jacket. A trio of cards, just in case, in the pocket of her slacks. Keys to the hotel room, and a small handful of change in left-hand pocket of her leather jacket - and in the right, something small, and light, and new, that she could only barely feel.
The train shuttered to a stop at the transfer point, and Remy watched Marie-Ange walk out and down the platform. He was pleased to see her do so without a look back. She, along with Doug, Amanda, Mark, Sarah, and Illyana, had been receiving crash courses in their fieldcraft, and over the last couple of months, they were starting to see results. It would be years before they could be considered expert professionals, but they had the basics, and a couple of them were showing a real talent for it.
Remy waited until the contact, a cut-away no doubt, got off at the next stop, before he himself left the train, satisfied that any counter-espionage efforts that could have stumbled on them were not present. He jogged up the steps and flagged down a cab.
***
The hotel room was non-descript, close to the airport, and somewhat known to cater to prostitutes, which was the reason Remy had chosen it. He dropped his old fashioned key on the desk as he came through the door.
"Anything jump off de page on dat information yet?" Remy said, seeing Marie-Ange transferring the small flash drive onto her computer and behind the wall of encryption that Doug had devised for them.
"They have delayed my flight by three hours. I am going to go see the Astronomical Clock. Do you want to go with me?" Marie-Ange was lying on her stomach on the bed, with her feet dangling off the edge, with the laptop in front of her. She took a sip from a bottle of water and hit a key on the laptop. "This is very interesting. One of the Swiss accounts that belonged to Baron Von Strucker? Has just made a payment to an account at German bank." She frowned, and took another drink of water. "My German is terrible, I wish Amanda was here. I am not sure what this payment is for.."
"One of de flagged accounts... hmm." Remy made a noise, considering the possibilities. Someone could still have access to the accounts, it could be to do with his estate, or any number of scenarios. "Send it back to de Centre wit' a note. Dey can take a look at it while we in Lyon. Good job on de train. You getting better controlling you movements wit'out looking like you obviously trying to act casual."
"I was sending it when you came in." Marie-Ange said. "I am just waiting for the automatic response so I can justify closing my laptop and ignoring the email from my mother. She always has some sort of family crisis that she thinks I care about." She turned and sat up on
the bed, crossing her legs. "The iPod helped, but I am not sure I want to rely on that every time. It was very easy to be distracted by it."
"Dere's other methods. Remy's favorite has always been de newspaper, but magazines are good too. De key is being able to detach yourself from consciously playing a part. Dat's when you body language changes and makes you anonymous." Remy stretched and checked his watch. "Three hours? Guess we might as well see you clock and grab a bite before de plane. Lyon is going to be a driveby in dis case."
"The secret to pretending to be no one noticeable is to forget I am supposed to be pretending to be no one noticeable?" Marie-Ange said, more thinking aloud then asking Remy a question. "If I think about that too much I will get a headache. I suppose anything could work, as long as it looks like you should have it?" Her laptop made a quiet 'ping' and she turned her attention to it, hit a few keys, and then thumbed the power button. "They have the file. And Doug wants to know if we can bring him some Czech magazines. He says he is getting rusty on the local slang."
There was a loud chunk as the train passed Pankrac station; a sort of sideway shudder and bang that flickered the lights for a moment and made people grab for the handrails. Remy suppressed a smile as he read his newspaper from a seat at the end of the subway car. The metro in Prague had improved drastically since the first time he'd ridden it in the late eighties, and he wondered how Marie-Ange was taking it all in from her vantage point down in the middle of the car.
Maintaining the complicated intelligence network that they had set up was more than a full time job, using everything from cut-away to front companies to handle the delivery and receipt of information. Normally, they used third parties to handle their physical drop boxes and exchanges, funneling the encrypted data through blindly. But highly sensitive ones had to be done by hand, which is why the younger members of X-Force occasionally found themselves handling the more mundane drops under the watchful eye of one of the more experienced members of the team. They'd learned a lot of fieldcraft and techniques over the last year and a half, but nothing was a substitute for real physical experience.
Remy had boarded first, in Chodov, with his paper and umbrella, looking remarkably non-descript, like an accountant or a manager. When Marie-Ange had got on at Kacerov, they had made no noticed of each other, seeming to concentrate on their individual interests.
Had she more time then just a few hours, Marie-Ange would have liked to have done more then pretend to be a tourist. Prague was beautiful, and all she got to see was an airport, a taxi stand and a few subway stations. And every other commuter in the Czech Republic who was on
her train.
Inside the nearly full car, she stood, one hand on a pole and the other fiddling with the controls of an iPod, seemingly oblivious to the crowd and people.
The doors rattled open, and a man got into the car with the crowd, struggling to pull off his long coat without dropping his case. As he shuffled, he turned, bumping into Marie-Ange and the woman next to her. He muttered an apology in Czech, and turned, finally swinging his coat into a carryable position. As he did, Marie-Ange felt his hand squeeze her buttock once, before he finally shifted to the other side of the aisle and took a hand hold.
Remy looked at his watch. In two minutes, they'd be at the transfer point, which was Marie-Ange's stop, and less than five after that, at his own exit by the bridge.
Marie-Ange rolled her eyes at the clumsy commuter, and from all appearances, simply resettled herself and adjusted the volume on her iPod. She took a quick mental inventory of what she'd been carrying. Wallet, and travel documents in the inside pocket of her jacket. A trio of cards, just in case, in the pocket of her slacks. Keys to the hotel room, and a small handful of change in left-hand pocket of her leather jacket - and in the right, something small, and light, and new, that she could only barely feel.
The train shuttered to a stop at the transfer point, and Remy watched Marie-Ange walk out and down the platform. He was pleased to see her do so without a look back. She, along with Doug, Amanda, Mark, Sarah, and Illyana, had been receiving crash courses in their fieldcraft, and over the last couple of months, they were starting to see results. It would be years before they could be considered expert professionals, but they had the basics, and a couple of them were showing a real talent for it.
Remy waited until the contact, a cut-away no doubt, got off at the next stop, before he himself left the train, satisfied that any counter-espionage efforts that could have stumbled on them were not present. He jogged up the steps and flagged down a cab.
***
The hotel room was non-descript, close to the airport, and somewhat known to cater to prostitutes, which was the reason Remy had chosen it. He dropped his old fashioned key on the desk as he came through the door.
"Anything jump off de page on dat information yet?" Remy said, seeing Marie-Ange transferring the small flash drive onto her computer and behind the wall of encryption that Doug had devised for them.
"They have delayed my flight by three hours. I am going to go see the Astronomical Clock. Do you want to go with me?" Marie-Ange was lying on her stomach on the bed, with her feet dangling off the edge, with the laptop in front of her. She took a sip from a bottle of water and hit a key on the laptop. "This is very interesting. One of the Swiss accounts that belonged to Baron Von Strucker? Has just made a payment to an account at German bank." She frowned, and took another drink of water. "My German is terrible, I wish Amanda was here. I am not sure what this payment is for.."
"One of de flagged accounts... hmm." Remy made a noise, considering the possibilities. Someone could still have access to the accounts, it could be to do with his estate, or any number of scenarios. "Send it back to de Centre wit' a note. Dey can take a look at it while we in Lyon. Good job on de train. You getting better controlling you movements wit'out looking like you obviously trying to act casual."
"I was sending it when you came in." Marie-Ange said. "I am just waiting for the automatic response so I can justify closing my laptop and ignoring the email from my mother. She always has some sort of family crisis that she thinks I care about." She turned and sat up on
the bed, crossing her legs. "The iPod helped, but I am not sure I want to rely on that every time. It was very easy to be distracted by it."
"Dere's other methods. Remy's favorite has always been de newspaper, but magazines are good too. De key is being able to detach yourself from consciously playing a part. Dat's when you body language changes and makes you anonymous." Remy stretched and checked his watch. "Three hours? Guess we might as well see you clock and grab a bite before de plane. Lyon is going to be a driveby in dis case."
"The secret to pretending to be no one noticeable is to forget I am supposed to be pretending to be no one noticeable?" Marie-Ange said, more thinking aloud then asking Remy a question. "If I think about that too much I will get a headache. I suppose anything could work, as long as it looks like you should have it?" Her laptop made a quiet 'ping' and she turned her attention to it, hit a few keys, and then thumbed the power button. "They have the file. And Doug wants to know if we can bring him some Czech magazines. He says he is getting rusty on the local slang."
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