Marie-Ange and Kevin (backdated)
Feb. 6th, 2015 08:20 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to February 6. Marie-Ange and Kevin go to Finnegans and chat.
Finnegans hadn't changed and thank God - or whoever - for that. Marie-Ange had been just shy of on edge walking in, even though no one had come back saying it had turned into a sports bar or trendy bistro pub. Maybe, she thought, pubs were just a constant no matter where you were. She'd certainly seen the same kind of place in Lyon, in London, in Toronto, even in New Orleans, just with the little regional variants. More wine. Warm beer. The guilty pleasure of poutine. Po'boy sandwiches.
It looked to her that Kevin Sydney had made himself at home, taking up a booth and from the glance she saw of one of North's very tidy, very German expense account sheets, he was making it worth the time of the bartender and waitstaff.
She slid into the booth across from him and dropped her bag next to her. "Did everyone finally make it down, besides me? I thought to go last, unless Amanda has also not come down."
"They've all come in and out. I think some of them are being sharked at darts by Domino." Kevin said, taking a sip from the glass of bourbon in front of him. She started to respond but was cut off as he held up one finger and polished off the glass. "Jen, love. Another two please."
"Do you like that all that much?" Marie-Ange asked. "Bourbon, I mean. I had a bad experience with it, but... it is a very American drink, all oak and corn, yes?" She shrugged though, dismissing her own question. "Not so important a question, though I suppose we should keep some around for you, if you intend to stay."
"That's like considering wine as all grapes and rot. Drinks are like women; different nights you want different things." He said with a wink. "Don't worry though. I can stock the sideboard at the office. Just get me an office with a couch and we'll be all set."
Marie-Ange laughed, despite herself. "If you have the office I think Amanda gave you, it should probably already have a couch." There were not so many empty spaces that were offices, rather than cubicles. They had cleared what little remained of the personal touches - but it was silly to waste the furniture, and Wanda had her 'old office' back, just as it was. "One has very very good morning light, but you do not strike me as a morning person so I do not think you have that one."
"Of course I'm a morning person. I just prefer to get to it from the other side than most people." His drinks arrived and he took a healthy gulp. "Sadly, based on the few things I've seen, I don't think I'll get that many chances to use it for a while."
"No? I know that is not fishing for compliments, so I am curious why you think so." Marie-Ange asked. "You cannot possibly think you will not have any downtime at all, we are not so bad as all that." She took a moment to place an order of her own - wine, and a blt - and then continued when the waitress had left. "Unless I very seriously misjudged your earlier comment about why Mister Kane sent you to us."
"There is a tremendous amount of work to do. Your network needs to get whole quickly. That takes a lot of labour. I remember in the 50s when the Iron Curtain was still porous. We raced to recruit agents across all of Eastern Europe knowing that any day, things would slam down on our access. If we didn't have people in place before, it would be ten times harder to do it later." He pointed out. "This is no different. You've still got governments all over the world trying to figure out which way to jump. Once they do, things will get more difficult. My guess is that we have about six months working under old rules and transitional confusion before that wall slams down."
The organizational aspect of what Kevin had said seemed to skip across Marie-Ange's thoughts, and distilled itself down to two thoughts. First, that all of this was rather worse than she could've anticipated, and that she did not have anything like the experience to deal with it - and second that apparently, Kevin Sydney had lived through the infancy of the Cold War. "Christian Kane did not tell us you were ..." Marie-Ange started - and cut herself off. "Really I should have expected that. Forgive a very impolite question but how far back do you go?"
"I was recruited into the Agency out of Korea in 1951. Originally it was my skills as a sniper that caught their eye." Kevin lit a cigarette, pointedly ignoring the 'no smoking' sign. "I was promoted to a field agent in 1955. That was also my first year in New York City."
He grinned for a moment. "New York City in 1955... let me tell you. That was a time."
It was entirely not worth hiding her surprise. Marie-Ange shook her head, almost as if she was trying to shake belief into her mind. "You were.. you would have been a teenager during World War Two then?" Bad enough she'd worked with people her parents' age - this was someone her grandfather's age. "No wonder you think we are all children."
"That's not entirely true. I think you're children because you're trying to run a minor agency with a handful of years experience." He held up one hand. "It's not a criticism. I'm used to a different training level than you. But Domino is your age and I'd take her over a dozen more experienced people. I haven't had time to evaluate you properly."
"My mentor was, I suppose formerly CIA is not accurate. He worked for them, but I do not think he had the same trainers you did. It was a volatile relationship ." Marie-Ange said. "And other than David, none of the rest of us have done intelligence work outside this team. It has all been very specialized." Her hand twitched, again as if to go down to her lap and she shook her head. "Which you already know. So, what do you not know about us? What would make evaluating us easier?"
"Time. There's no easy way." He finished off one glass and set it aside. "Look, the best way I can explain it is that we need to spend time in the field and see what happens. But this isn't the same kind of intel work that I did for the CIA. You need all sorts of elements because you're supporting a different initiative."
"I imagine no one did much at all with the mutant issue when you were active, no?" Marie-Ange's wine finally arrived and she looked into the glass before taking a drink. "No Spy Kids coming to you and saying they had nightmares about North Korea's mutant slave army." She said, gesturing at herself with the wine glass. "We have no idea what North Korea is doing with mutants, but so far, no nightmares about them. But my precognition is not entirely reliable. I did not see M-Day coming at all."
"M-Day has been coming for years. We just never realized it." Kevin moved to his second drink and waved for another. "We should have. It's like the nuclear question."
"Mutant doomsday clock, hands on eleven and eleven?" Marie-Ange said. "That makes my North Korea comment rather frightening. They have sad dirty bombs and small range missiles at best, but one of us... It is easier to export a person than a bomb. It would not have to be North Korea either."
"I once had a good time in North Korea. Her name was Ming."
Incredulous, Marie-Ange stared for a moment, then drank her wine. "See, I think you will find use for that couch after all, if you can make time for Ming while you are sneaking around in North Korea."
"I am a shapeshifter, doll. It is a big part of my toolbox."
Finnegans hadn't changed and thank God - or whoever - for that. Marie-Ange had been just shy of on edge walking in, even though no one had come back saying it had turned into a sports bar or trendy bistro pub. Maybe, she thought, pubs were just a constant no matter where you were. She'd certainly seen the same kind of place in Lyon, in London, in Toronto, even in New Orleans, just with the little regional variants. More wine. Warm beer. The guilty pleasure of poutine. Po'boy sandwiches.
It looked to her that Kevin Sydney had made himself at home, taking up a booth and from the glance she saw of one of North's very tidy, very German expense account sheets, he was making it worth the time of the bartender and waitstaff.
She slid into the booth across from him and dropped her bag next to her. "Did everyone finally make it down, besides me? I thought to go last, unless Amanda has also not come down."
"They've all come in and out. I think some of them are being sharked at darts by Domino." Kevin said, taking a sip from the glass of bourbon in front of him. She started to respond but was cut off as he held up one finger and polished off the glass. "Jen, love. Another two please."
"Do you like that all that much?" Marie-Ange asked. "Bourbon, I mean. I had a bad experience with it, but... it is a very American drink, all oak and corn, yes?" She shrugged though, dismissing her own question. "Not so important a question, though I suppose we should keep some around for you, if you intend to stay."
"That's like considering wine as all grapes and rot. Drinks are like women; different nights you want different things." He said with a wink. "Don't worry though. I can stock the sideboard at the office. Just get me an office with a couch and we'll be all set."
Marie-Ange laughed, despite herself. "If you have the office I think Amanda gave you, it should probably already have a couch." There were not so many empty spaces that were offices, rather than cubicles. They had cleared what little remained of the personal touches - but it was silly to waste the furniture, and Wanda had her 'old office' back, just as it was. "One has very very good morning light, but you do not strike me as a morning person so I do not think you have that one."
"Of course I'm a morning person. I just prefer to get to it from the other side than most people." His drinks arrived and he took a healthy gulp. "Sadly, based on the few things I've seen, I don't think I'll get that many chances to use it for a while."
"No? I know that is not fishing for compliments, so I am curious why you think so." Marie-Ange asked. "You cannot possibly think you will not have any downtime at all, we are not so bad as all that." She took a moment to place an order of her own - wine, and a blt - and then continued when the waitress had left. "Unless I very seriously misjudged your earlier comment about why Mister Kane sent you to us."
"There is a tremendous amount of work to do. Your network needs to get whole quickly. That takes a lot of labour. I remember in the 50s when the Iron Curtain was still porous. We raced to recruit agents across all of Eastern Europe knowing that any day, things would slam down on our access. If we didn't have people in place before, it would be ten times harder to do it later." He pointed out. "This is no different. You've still got governments all over the world trying to figure out which way to jump. Once they do, things will get more difficult. My guess is that we have about six months working under old rules and transitional confusion before that wall slams down."
The organizational aspect of what Kevin had said seemed to skip across Marie-Ange's thoughts, and distilled itself down to two thoughts. First, that all of this was rather worse than she could've anticipated, and that she did not have anything like the experience to deal with it - and second that apparently, Kevin Sydney had lived through the infancy of the Cold War. "Christian Kane did not tell us you were ..." Marie-Ange started - and cut herself off. "Really I should have expected that. Forgive a very impolite question but how far back do you go?"
"I was recruited into the Agency out of Korea in 1951. Originally it was my skills as a sniper that caught their eye." Kevin lit a cigarette, pointedly ignoring the 'no smoking' sign. "I was promoted to a field agent in 1955. That was also my first year in New York City."
He grinned for a moment. "New York City in 1955... let me tell you. That was a time."
It was entirely not worth hiding her surprise. Marie-Ange shook her head, almost as if she was trying to shake belief into her mind. "You were.. you would have been a teenager during World War Two then?" Bad enough she'd worked with people her parents' age - this was someone her grandfather's age. "No wonder you think we are all children."
"That's not entirely true. I think you're children because you're trying to run a minor agency with a handful of years experience." He held up one hand. "It's not a criticism. I'm used to a different training level than you. But Domino is your age and I'd take her over a dozen more experienced people. I haven't had time to evaluate you properly."
"My mentor was, I suppose formerly CIA is not accurate. He worked for them, but I do not think he had the same trainers you did. It was a volatile relationship ." Marie-Ange said. "And other than David, none of the rest of us have done intelligence work outside this team. It has all been very specialized." Her hand twitched, again as if to go down to her lap and she shook her head. "Which you already know. So, what do you not know about us? What would make evaluating us easier?"
"Time. There's no easy way." He finished off one glass and set it aside. "Look, the best way I can explain it is that we need to spend time in the field and see what happens. But this isn't the same kind of intel work that I did for the CIA. You need all sorts of elements because you're supporting a different initiative."
"I imagine no one did much at all with the mutant issue when you were active, no?" Marie-Ange's wine finally arrived and she looked into the glass before taking a drink. "No Spy Kids coming to you and saying they had nightmares about North Korea's mutant slave army." She said, gesturing at herself with the wine glass. "We have no idea what North Korea is doing with mutants, but so far, no nightmares about them. But my precognition is not entirely reliable. I did not see M-Day coming at all."
"M-Day has been coming for years. We just never realized it." Kevin moved to his second drink and waved for another. "We should have. It's like the nuclear question."
"Mutant doomsday clock, hands on eleven and eleven?" Marie-Ange said. "That makes my North Korea comment rather frightening. They have sad dirty bombs and small range missiles at best, but one of us... It is easier to export a person than a bomb. It would not have to be North Korea either."
"I once had a good time in North Korea. Her name was Ming."
Incredulous, Marie-Ange stared for a moment, then drank her wine. "See, I think you will find use for that couch after all, if you can make time for Ming while you are sneaking around in North Korea."
"I am a shapeshifter, doll. It is a big part of my toolbox."
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