Kevin Sydney (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xp_changeling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xp_logs2023-10-16 03:18 pm
xp_changeling) wrote in xp_logs2023-10-16 03:18 pm
Entry tags:
Behold A Red Horse - Log 1
Christian Kane passes along a resource to Kevin Sydney which isn’t exactly what he expected.
“Oh my. A blocked number on a phone that almost no one on the planet even knows exist. Rather interesting, I must admit.” The clipped British voice was chipper, almost bubbly, if Kevin Sydney was ever willing to entertain the use of the word ‘bubbly’ in anything but the direst of circumstances. Snow Valley’s contacts had come up short in getting people close to the incident in Spain, which is why he’d reached out to Christian Kane for help. Christian had provided a name and number, with no guarantees whether it would be of help. Instead, it was up to Kevin to make a deal.
“I thought it might be a way to get your attention, especially since we likely to want to keep this off official channels.”
“Oh no, I’m sure you want to keep this off official channels. I might enjoy making this official and above board. So much more leverage for me, don’t you think?” Sonya Falsworth said, smiling to herself as she spoke into the phone.
“Fair enough.” It was going to be one of those conversations. “My name is Kevin Sydney. I’m a friend of Christian Kane.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do. You see, Kevin Sydney is quite dead. A heart attack in 1997. I remember it distinctly because I was never quite sure how a high-powered round through the back of the head could cause a heart attack. Would you like to try again?”
“Things have changed. Turns out I’m a mutant. Ended up being a little bit harder to kill than the Agency thought.” Kevin said. “The lack of aging was just a basic trick of my powers.”
“I had rather thought that your skin was entirely too tight for a man in his sixties. The uniform grey hair was obviously dyed but I had put that down to male vanity. However, light crows feet, no looseness in the neck, no spots on the backs of your hands.” Sonya replied. “If you can tell me how I know all that, you might earn yourself another few minutes of my quite precious time.”
“Langley, the fall of 1995. I was hosting a talk on the rising of white extremist terror groups in the US and Europe. You were on the far-left seat in the second row. Short red bob, wearing glasses you didn’t need.”
“I was so desperate to be taken seriously. After all, I didn’t even have a year in service yet.” Sonya said with a smile. “Very well, Mister Sydney. Congratulations on your surviving the CIA’s extreme version of retirement. Now, how does dear Christian think the Head of his Majesty's SIS can help?”
“The situation in Spain. I know you’re already briefed on it. I’ve got reason to believe a mutant might be involved and I’d like to get some people on the ground to confirm it. But I don’t have the right contacts in the Guardia Civil to get someone inside and you do.”
“I do. The question is what do I get out of it? After all, while my former mentor is quite important to me, the SIS isn’t a fruit machine that you can simply drop dimes in for prizes. I’ve heard rumours of a very focused, very well-trained shop operating around the world focusing on mutant related issues.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “That sounds exactly like a group that could be very useful or very aggravating to the SIS.”
“You should also know that I’m not about to compromise my people.”
“Of course not. If you were, my profile of you would have been entirely wrong, which would have made me very cross indeed. No, I don’t need anything compromising. Just you share the intel your people gather. No names, but I want the raw information, not just analysis.”
Kevin paused for a moment, thinking, before nodding to himself. “Fair enough.”
“Excellent. I’ll send along the information momentarily. I look forward to working with you Mister Sydney. I imagine it will cause a great deal of trouble and rather a lot of fun for us both.”
“Oh my. A blocked number on a phone that almost no one on the planet even knows exist. Rather interesting, I must admit.” The clipped British voice was chipper, almost bubbly, if Kevin Sydney was ever willing to entertain the use of the word ‘bubbly’ in anything but the direst of circumstances. Snow Valley’s contacts had come up short in getting people close to the incident in Spain, which is why he’d reached out to Christian Kane for help. Christian had provided a name and number, with no guarantees whether it would be of help. Instead, it was up to Kevin to make a deal.
“I thought it might be a way to get your attention, especially since we likely to want to keep this off official channels.”
“Oh no, I’m sure you want to keep this off official channels. I might enjoy making this official and above board. So much more leverage for me, don’t you think?” Sonya Falsworth said, smiling to herself as she spoke into the phone.
“Fair enough.” It was going to be one of those conversations. “My name is Kevin Sydney. I’m a friend of Christian Kane.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do. You see, Kevin Sydney is quite dead. A heart attack in 1997. I remember it distinctly because I was never quite sure how a high-powered round through the back of the head could cause a heart attack. Would you like to try again?”
“Things have changed. Turns out I’m a mutant. Ended up being a little bit harder to kill than the Agency thought.” Kevin said. “The lack of aging was just a basic trick of my powers.”
“I had rather thought that your skin was entirely too tight for a man in his sixties. The uniform grey hair was obviously dyed but I had put that down to male vanity. However, light crows feet, no looseness in the neck, no spots on the backs of your hands.” Sonya replied. “If you can tell me how I know all that, you might earn yourself another few minutes of my quite precious time.”
“Langley, the fall of 1995. I was hosting a talk on the rising of white extremist terror groups in the US and Europe. You were on the far-left seat in the second row. Short red bob, wearing glasses you didn’t need.”
“I was so desperate to be taken seriously. After all, I didn’t even have a year in service yet.” Sonya said with a smile. “Very well, Mister Sydney. Congratulations on your surviving the CIA’s extreme version of retirement. Now, how does dear Christian think the Head of his Majesty's SIS can help?”
“The situation in Spain. I know you’re already briefed on it. I’ve got reason to believe a mutant might be involved and I’d like to get some people on the ground to confirm it. But I don’t have the right contacts in the Guardia Civil to get someone inside and you do.”
“I do. The question is what do I get out of it? After all, while my former mentor is quite important to me, the SIS isn’t a fruit machine that you can simply drop dimes in for prizes. I’ve heard rumours of a very focused, very well-trained shop operating around the world focusing on mutant related issues.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “That sounds exactly like a group that could be very useful or very aggravating to the SIS.”
“You should also know that I’m not about to compromise my people.”
“Of course not. If you were, my profile of you would have been entirely wrong, which would have made me very cross indeed. No, I don’t need anything compromising. Just you share the intel your people gather. No names, but I want the raw information, not just analysis.”
Kevin paused for a moment, thinking, before nodding to himself. “Fair enough.”
“Excellent. I’ll send along the information momentarily. I look forward to working with you Mister Sydney. I imagine it will cause a great deal of trouble and rather a lot of fun for us both.”