Training Day: Prologue
Sep. 14th, 2019 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsKevin recruits Gabe for an assignment in Europe.
“Gabe." Kevin slid a beer in front of the younger man as he reached the bar. "How do you feel about Southern Europe. Good? Bad? Indifferent? Was once locked in a room with a Sicilian for seventeen hours and still have trauma regarding it?" It wasn't the weirdest question Kevin had posed in Finnegans, but it was up there.
“Is this a question or an excuse to tell a story?” Gabriel finished his text before looking up at Kevin. He slid his phone into his pocket. “I like Southern Europe in theory,” he said. “Never been, but I hear the weather is nice and the food is good. Why?” He grabbed his glass and raised it. “Cheers.”
"I'm reactivating an old network which operates around Southern Europe and North Africa and I could use some help. We talked about some advanced training, so if you're interested in a little field work and you're free next week, consider this a formal offer." Kevin saluted with his own beer and drained a third down in a long swallow.
“Oh, a formal offer. Well!” Gabriel waved a hand at the bartender and pointed to a bottle of whiskey, then held two fingers up. “That almost sounds above board.”
"I submitted paperwork and everything." Kevin confirmed, before accepting the glass. "Cheers."
"Salud, as they say." Gabriel left the shot on the bar for a second. "Where are we talking, though? Spain? Italy? Places where tans might be default? Because if so, I'm in."
"Spain, Southern France, Italy and North Africa. I've got an old network there that I'm re-activating. Figured it would be a good place to get you some practice in handling assets." Kevin said. "And before you make the joke, I'm talking about real assets."
Gabriel grinned. "I am both disappointed and impressed that you beat me to that." He downed the shot and grabbed some beer to chase it. "Sure," he said after wiping his mouth. "I'm game. I could go on a Mediterranean jaunt, even if I'll be skulking in shadows the whole time instead of working on my tan."
"Expect both, kid." Kevin grinned. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Once James Bond got popular, we got really good at scheduling meets and drops at 'public locations', like bars and restaurants we normally couldn't afford, or nude beaches that our agencies got stuck getting us into. All in the name of national security, of course."
"Oh sure. Beach sangria for honor and duty and all that." Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "And by the way, I am only saying yes to the trip, on the condition that you and I never go to a nude beach together. Ever."
“Gabe." Kevin slid a beer in front of the younger man as he reached the bar. "How do you feel about Southern Europe. Good? Bad? Indifferent? Was once locked in a room with a Sicilian for seventeen hours and still have trauma regarding it?" It wasn't the weirdest question Kevin had posed in Finnegans, but it was up there.
“Is this a question or an excuse to tell a story?” Gabriel finished his text before looking up at Kevin. He slid his phone into his pocket. “I like Southern Europe in theory,” he said. “Never been, but I hear the weather is nice and the food is good. Why?” He grabbed his glass and raised it. “Cheers.”
"I'm reactivating an old network which operates around Southern Europe and North Africa and I could use some help. We talked about some advanced training, so if you're interested in a little field work and you're free next week, consider this a formal offer." Kevin saluted with his own beer and drained a third down in a long swallow.
“Oh, a formal offer. Well!” Gabriel waved a hand at the bartender and pointed to a bottle of whiskey, then held two fingers up. “That almost sounds above board.”
"I submitted paperwork and everything." Kevin confirmed, before accepting the glass. "Cheers."
"Salud, as they say." Gabriel left the shot on the bar for a second. "Where are we talking, though? Spain? Italy? Places where tans might be default? Because if so, I'm in."
"Spain, Southern France, Italy and North Africa. I've got an old network there that I'm re-activating. Figured it would be a good place to get you some practice in handling assets." Kevin said. "And before you make the joke, I'm talking about real assets."
Gabriel grinned. "I am both disappointed and impressed that you beat me to that." He downed the shot and grabbed some beer to chase it. "Sure," he said after wiping his mouth. "I'm game. I could go on a Mediterranean jaunt, even if I'll be skulking in shadows the whole time instead of working on my tan."
"Expect both, kid." Kevin grinned. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Once James Bond got popular, we got really good at scheduling meets and drops at 'public locations', like bars and restaurants we normally couldn't afford, or nude beaches that our agencies got stuck getting us into. All in the name of national security, of course."
"Oh sure. Beach sangria for honor and duty and all that." Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "And by the way, I am only saying yes to the trip, on the condition that you and I never go to a nude beach together. Ever."
