In Media Res

[.N.o.i.r.]

Nick nodded and climbed in winding the window down just enough for him to flick the butt of his cigarette out as they hit the main roads. Pulling down the sun visor Nick inspected his face, he couldn't lean back the bruise on the back of his head was still throbbing as was the broken rib sat half way down his torso. He looked like a thug, His face was a mess of scars and bruises and even after he had straightened his nose it was still off center. His cropped brown hair did nothing to hide the fact that there was a long incision scar across the left side of his skull running from his temple and something of a burn down his left cheek. Somewhat tanned from his frequent jaunts abroad Nick's dark green eyes were rimmed with bags adding a more haggard look.

Lighting a fresh cigarette he took a long draw and still avoiding eye contact with the slightly younger business woman "It was going well, the warlord loved his latest shipment," He paused for a draw "Though I don't get why they're still obsessed with AK's there are far more reliable weapons out there but I digress." Nick brought himself back on track, "The ******** had some pansy assed accountant keeping check on what he was doing, I didn't even know they had people who did that kind of thing, I was handed the case, we got our ride back to the village got the plane, flew back to Kenya, got on our flight and came back across. The paperwork worked in Africa and got us onto the runway at CDG but they were waiting for us, some one had tipped them off, we think someone got a man on the inside on the other end, tipped the UN off to us and that's that." He took a few long draws on his cigarette tilted his head back and blew the smoke towards the window. "What I want to know is how they were tipped off in the first place and who the hell has a man on your inside?"

[Ashtorel]

Isabel growled low in her throat, tossing away the polished businesswoman exterior for a brief second, allowing her inner beast to show.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been having a little bit of trouble for about a year. A small mistake here. An accident there. A couple weapons missing. Customers getting upset and beginning to buy their weapons from the US black market again. I’m loosing business slowly. But something has suddenly changed. What seemed to be a plan based on patience turned sloppy, and they started going big. You were their biggest mistake.”

She sighed, running her hand through her hair before holding the wheel with her knees to shrug her perfecto off, tossing it in the back. She resumed to driving properly after lighting a cigarette.
“I don’t really know what their goal is. Money alone? Power? Run me down? Are they working for my competitors? Do they want me to snap and make a mistake? Blow my cover and come out in the open as Isabel De Clèves, international arms dealer and diamond smuggler?”

She shook her head softly, shrugging. She seemed calm enough now, strangely sincere ever, as she explained her thoughts about the situation, confining in him without seeming to withhold any information.
But the anger was there, giving her blood red lips a downwards tilt and a metallic sheen to her otherwise light blue eyes.

“To be honest, I was waiting for them to get bold enough and try and screw with you. I’ve set this as the final limit about six months ago. I’ve been planning since, trying to track them down. Everything is ready. My new identity. Several leads on who they are and where to start looking…”

She paused, glancing at the man next to her, mouth drawn in a hard line. This was a woman who’s pride had been sung by people foolish enough to believe they could get out of it alive. “I’ll make them an example. I will hunt them down myself. I will find them. I will kill them. And I will make sure that our world knows, not to ******** with my business. I will not stand for it, and they will die for it.”
Then she smiled, eyes narrowing viciously. There was single name for that facial expression expression. Bloodlust.
"And you will help me."

[.N.o.i.r.]

Nick turned to his employer and raised an eyebrow at the comment. "They ******** with me," he commented, "You think I'm going to let that lie?" with his final comment he sounded somewhat more British than usual. Flicking his cigarette out the window he watched the streets as the car rumbled up the cobbles to Montmartre. "Mike's dropping my stuff in the morning straight after he lands." Nick lit a fresh cigarette and looked at the stolen packet, it was almost empty "Balls" he grumbled as he put it back into his still wet pockets.

Feeling the car stop Nick opened the door and stepped out, he was currently the most wanted man in Europe and he had just gotten out of a performance car in one of Paris' busier tourist areas but Isabel wasn't that stupid, hide in plain sight. Looking to Isabel he gestured over his shoulder to the Tabac "I'm nearly out" he stated as he reached to his pocket for a wallet only to find that he was cash and cardless too. "********" he grumbled as he looked back to his employer, "So what's the plan?" he asked as he made his way around to the pavement and waited near the door to the appartment.

[Ashtorel]

Isabel killed the engine when she was done parking and stepped out of the car. “Lay low,” she muttered, digging around her handbag for her packet of cigarettes. She lit one and arched an eyebrow, catching his expression. He was obviously craving the nicotine. In a rare show of generosity, she handed him the cigarette she’d just lit and got her-self another before walking towards the door

She took smaller steps that usual, and her walk lacked a little swagger, since she’d had bad experience with slippery cobbles and stiletto heels in the past. She pressed her eyes against the peephole and a flash of light indicated her retina had been scanned. The door popped open and she nearly smiled, pushing passed it.

Once the door shut behind them, she relaxed a bit more; crossing the small inner court made of cobbles and complete with a small rose garden. “Welcome. Make yourself at home. I suspect there should be clothes that will fit you lying around somewhere. The sports room is on the ground floor, next to the kitchen. The fridge should be full. The rooms are on the first and second floor. There is a swimming pool beneath the ground floor. You’re job is to somehow stay out of trouble for the next few days. You should be relatively safe out there as long as you’re with me. No one is looking for a young couple on a romantic vacation. Any questions?”