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xp_logs2004-10-29 09:55 am
x-cable.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2004-10-29 09:55 am
Nathan and Alison, Friday morning
Nathan takes Alison to the Pack's safehouse in Brussels, where he checks on some things and makes some arrangments in preparation for going after Foley.
"You should get something to eat," Nathan said as he finished entering the code and the alarm system and the locks disengaged. He opened the back door of the rowhouse which was the Pack's safehouse in Brussels, gesturing for Alison to precede him inside. "Kitchen's second door on the left. Fridge should be stocked - someone comes in every week to do that, just in case we wind up needing the place." He dropped their bags inside, then closed the door behind them and tapped in another code on the pad just inside the door, reengaging the system. "I've got to call Berlin and make some arrangements."
"I'll go grab something for the both of us and then you can define arrangements for me," Alison answered easily. "Or I can listen in on the call," she amended, already walking away. The place smelled of war, if that was possible - metal and leather and the faintest lingering scent of gunpowder. She made her way to the kitchen, which was exactly where he'd said it would be, grabbing conveniently packaged foodstuffs at random to bring back for the both of them to share.
Nathan strode into the comms room, sitting down in front of the computer and firing it up. It showed the standby screen, of course, and he rapidly entered in his own set of codes, opening up his Mistra database. He skimmed through the list of files, bringing up the one entitled 'belgiantour.doc'. Eidetic memory was all well and good, but he wanted to review the first record he'd made of this particular exit strategy, too. Just in case. In another window, he pulled up the online banking site for the Argenta bank, rapidly entering the account number and password for the account Foley should have been pulling money from, if he was following the plan.
Food was plopped unceremoniously at his elbow, a faint trailing of 'eat this or else' thoughts accompanying the gesture. It was easy for Alison to fall into that - she'd done it with Betsy countless of times before and although there wasn't any link between she and Nathan, she knew he could pick up projected thoughts from someone who was headblind easily enough if they were the only person in the vicinity. Wandering off to find a chair she carried it back, settling down to peek over his shoulder while he worked without a second thought.
"Thanks, Ali," Nathan said, noting that precisely the right amount of money had been withdrawn from the bank yesterday. Mick was following the plan. Nathan chewed on his lower lip suddenly, remembering teaching Mick this particular exit strategy and half a dozen others, going over him with it in detail. "Hand me the phone over there? No, not the cordless, the funny-looking secured one."
It was his show just now and Alison wasn't about to complain about being asked to do things. She rose to her feet and fetched the phone, handing it to him without a word before sitting down again, absently lasering the edge of the food package before peeling it open. "Talk to me."
"Foley's following the plan. To the letter, which is probably going to wind up biting him in the ass, as much as it helps us when it comes to finding him. He's probably not in any sort of state of mind to improvise, if his conditioning broke on Wednesday." Nathan was already dialing the number of the safehouse in Berlin as he spoke. "Next step is to get on a plane, but he won't do that yet..."
"It's probably still nagging at him too," she pointed out calmly. It had lingered on for Nathan, after all, when he'd been in a similar situation. She repressed the urge to ask what Foley would do next, leaning forward to listen as he made the call instead.
Nathan started to reply, but then heard David saying hello on the other end of the phone in Berlin. "Guten Abend, Speedy... hey, I've been calling you that for five years, pal, get used to it. ... Right. No. ...you did? Good. Can I count on you to scramble with the Blackhawk if we need it? ... no, Gar can't come. Just you and Mina, unless Dom and GW get back from Florence by the time we call... well, I'm hoping we don't have to. ...Oh, you're going to charge me, are you? Very funny. Do I get a discount?"
"If you can't cover it I can," Alison murmured nearby, smiling a bit at the banter, even though she had no doubt Nathan would be able to take care of things just fine in that regard. She wasn't sure she was thrilled at the notion of the Pack being along for the ride, but they would need someone to airlift them to the location of the safehouse Foley was heading for, if nothing else.
"...okay, sounds like a plan. I'll take the satellite phone. Like I said, hoping we don't need you, but if we have to go airborne we'll have to do it fast. ...All right. Thanks, David. Kiss your wife for me." Nathan smiled tightly as he clicked the phone off. "They'll be waiting for our call," he said. "We'll take ground transportation to the safehouse in Tournai - it's not too far, and military-style helicopters attract a lot of attention. If we have to get somewhere else fast, they can be here in ninety minutes." He turned back to the computer, rapidly calling up SN Brussels Airlines' website. "This could be tricky," he said. "The old plan involved a ticket out on Sabena with a specific pseudonym, but they've since gone bankrupt..."
She pulled out the data pad she'd brought with her from the mansion, bringing up a few lists to the main screen and staggering them for easy viewing. "Just a few of the things I picked out of the mainframe," Alison murmured, sparing a moment to send silent thanks to Scott for the near fanatical habit he had of cataloging everything there so that it would be dead easy to find. It was all she had that could help in this particular part of the mission, really, though she was paying far more attention to everything than some might have thought she would.
"You got anything in there that'll let me get into this airline's passenger database? I could hack in, but it'll take time." He glanced at the food at his elbow, then back at the screen.
"Fourth window," she replied - it had been one of the data packets Scott had prepared with Pete's help, she suspected, from some of the side notes on the files. There were a few programs there too but she wasn't the expert and simply surrendered the souped-up palm device to Nathan without a word.
"Perfect... I detect a familiar British hand at work here," Nathan said, taking it from her. "This is as good as a call for help, you know," he said, almost in a non sequitur. "Him trying to get out this way. Like he wants me to find him..."
"You should get something to eat," Nathan said as he finished entering the code and the alarm system and the locks disengaged. He opened the back door of the rowhouse which was the Pack's safehouse in Brussels, gesturing for Alison to precede him inside. "Kitchen's second door on the left. Fridge should be stocked - someone comes in every week to do that, just in case we wind up needing the place." He dropped their bags inside, then closed the door behind them and tapped in another code on the pad just inside the door, reengaging the system. "I've got to call Berlin and make some arrangements."
"I'll go grab something for the both of us and then you can define arrangements for me," Alison answered easily. "Or I can listen in on the call," she amended, already walking away. The place smelled of war, if that was possible - metal and leather and the faintest lingering scent of gunpowder. She made her way to the kitchen, which was exactly where he'd said it would be, grabbing conveniently packaged foodstuffs at random to bring back for the both of them to share.
Nathan strode into the comms room, sitting down in front of the computer and firing it up. It showed the standby screen, of course, and he rapidly entered in his own set of codes, opening up his Mistra database. He skimmed through the list of files, bringing up the one entitled 'belgiantour.doc'. Eidetic memory was all well and good, but he wanted to review the first record he'd made of this particular exit strategy, too. Just in case. In another window, he pulled up the online banking site for the Argenta bank, rapidly entering the account number and password for the account Foley should have been pulling money from, if he was following the plan.
Food was plopped unceremoniously at his elbow, a faint trailing of 'eat this or else' thoughts accompanying the gesture. It was easy for Alison to fall into that - she'd done it with Betsy countless of times before and although there wasn't any link between she and Nathan, she knew he could pick up projected thoughts from someone who was headblind easily enough if they were the only person in the vicinity. Wandering off to find a chair she carried it back, settling down to peek over his shoulder while he worked without a second thought.
"Thanks, Ali," Nathan said, noting that precisely the right amount of money had been withdrawn from the bank yesterday. Mick was following the plan. Nathan chewed on his lower lip suddenly, remembering teaching Mick this particular exit strategy and half a dozen others, going over him with it in detail. "Hand me the phone over there? No, not the cordless, the funny-looking secured one."
It was his show just now and Alison wasn't about to complain about being asked to do things. She rose to her feet and fetched the phone, handing it to him without a word before sitting down again, absently lasering the edge of the food package before peeling it open. "Talk to me."
"Foley's following the plan. To the letter, which is probably going to wind up biting him in the ass, as much as it helps us when it comes to finding him. He's probably not in any sort of state of mind to improvise, if his conditioning broke on Wednesday." Nathan was already dialing the number of the safehouse in Berlin as he spoke. "Next step is to get on a plane, but he won't do that yet..."
"It's probably still nagging at him too," she pointed out calmly. It had lingered on for Nathan, after all, when he'd been in a similar situation. She repressed the urge to ask what Foley would do next, leaning forward to listen as he made the call instead.
Nathan started to reply, but then heard David saying hello on the other end of the phone in Berlin. "Guten Abend, Speedy... hey, I've been calling you that for five years, pal, get used to it. ... Right. No. ...you did? Good. Can I count on you to scramble with the Blackhawk if we need it? ... no, Gar can't come. Just you and Mina, unless Dom and GW get back from Florence by the time we call... well, I'm hoping we don't have to. ...Oh, you're going to charge me, are you? Very funny. Do I get a discount?"
"If you can't cover it I can," Alison murmured nearby, smiling a bit at the banter, even though she had no doubt Nathan would be able to take care of things just fine in that regard. She wasn't sure she was thrilled at the notion of the Pack being along for the ride, but they would need someone to airlift them to the location of the safehouse Foley was heading for, if nothing else.
"...okay, sounds like a plan. I'll take the satellite phone. Like I said, hoping we don't need you, but if we have to go airborne we'll have to do it fast. ...All right. Thanks, David. Kiss your wife for me." Nathan smiled tightly as he clicked the phone off. "They'll be waiting for our call," he said. "We'll take ground transportation to the safehouse in Tournai - it's not too far, and military-style helicopters attract a lot of attention. If we have to get somewhere else fast, they can be here in ninety minutes." He turned back to the computer, rapidly calling up SN Brussels Airlines' website. "This could be tricky," he said. "The old plan involved a ticket out on Sabena with a specific pseudonym, but they've since gone bankrupt..."
She pulled out the data pad she'd brought with her from the mansion, bringing up a few lists to the main screen and staggering them for easy viewing. "Just a few of the things I picked out of the mainframe," Alison murmured, sparing a moment to send silent thanks to Scott for the near fanatical habit he had of cataloging everything there so that it would be dead easy to find. It was all she had that could help in this particular part of the mission, really, though she was paying far more attention to everything than some might have thought she would.
"You got anything in there that'll let me get into this airline's passenger database? I could hack in, but it'll take time." He glanced at the food at his elbow, then back at the screen.
"Fourth window," she replied - it had been one of the data packets Scott had prepared with Pete's help, she suspected, from some of the side notes on the files. There were a few programs there too but she wasn't the expert and simply surrendered the souped-up palm device to Nathan without a word.
"Perfect... I detect a familiar British hand at work here," Nathan said, taking it from her. "This is as good as a call for help, you know," he said, almost in a non sequitur. "Him trying to get out this way. Like he wants me to find him..."