10:43 <Quaker> Badawi comes in to the greybox a day later, whistling. “Down on the beaches, looking at all the peaches…” She twirls her keys on her finger. She feels like she’s got something that’s starting to be figured out. 10:43 <Quaker> Who does she see? 10:44 <tom> At first, nobody. But Agostina can hear the harsh sounds of metalworking equipment squealing away at a machined surface long before she rounds the corner to see Bob silhouetted behind the safety screens by a shower of sparks. 10:45 <Quaker> That’s right. Just who she wanted to see. 10:46 <Quaker> Badawi will walk over to the little machine shop, standing out of the way of sparks but in Bob’s view. She raises a hand over the harsh metal squealing. 10:46 <tom> There's a pause, another barrage of metal noise, and Bob flips a switch. The whole thing falls asleep, one of the grinding wheels spinning down on inertia as he's turning, taking off his welding gloves. 10:47 <tom> "Ma'am." 10:50 <tom> Whatever he's working on is in its early phases, clearly. From the looks of it he's got the inner workings of some sort of spring mechanism with a catch. He shoves all that aside for now as the small woman steps into his workspace. 10:52 <Quaker> “Don’t call me ma’am. You good to knock off for a bit?” She jerks her head in the direction of the exit. “Pub down the block. My treat. You ever stop working?” 10:52 <tom> "Miss, sorry." 10:54 <tom> Bob hesitates. "Oh, I'm- not really here all that often. I don't have like, a real job." 10:54 <tom> At the offer: "Is this one of those like, Rolf-type pubs?" 10:55 <Quaker> “I don’t know. It’s England. In some sense they’re all Rolf-type pubs.” 10:55 <tom> "Suppose so. Alright." 10:55 <Quaker> “How do you stand that sound? Makes my teeth hurt.” 10:56 <tom> He snorts. "Army life teaches you to always wear earpro." In fact, he takes the opportunity to pop out the squashed orange plugs. 10:57 <tom> "Got up in CQC just after basic, forgot the damn things in my pocket. Tinnitus ever since. Never lost 'em after that." 10:58 <Quaker> “Alright. Enough Army talk. Let’s get a drink.” She holds the door open for him, both as they’re leaving and as they get to the pub. 10:58 <tom> He goes for his stupid sunglasses on his way out the door. 11:00 <Quaker> She takes hers off as they go inside. It’s dark enough, and the only people around are a few leaned-over regulars. If he looks at her, he’ll see her eyes are a very warm shade of brown. “You know English beers?” 11:00 <tom> "I barely know English." 11:01 <Quaker> “Fair enough. Get what you like.” To the bartender, she orders a Presbyterian. And a cream soda. And a water. 11:01 <tom> Bob will take off his coat as he sits down- no body armor, thank Christ. Then he'll just slowly diffuse down into the padded seating. 11:02 <tom> Why not, he'll get a beer. He picks one of the names he recognizes on the list. 11:03 <tom> "So, what's up?" Bob's scratching his nose as politely as he can. "You didn't feel comfortable on cams?" 11:03 <Quaker> “How’s the body?” 11:03 <tom> "Eh?" 11:03 <tom> "Eh." 11:04 <tom> He articulates his shoulder. "Doc says I'll never win another Boston Marathon, who cares." 11:04 <tom> "That's just what happens in your thirties. Whole thing starts to come undone. I'll do it for two hundred thousand a pop." 11:05 <Quaker> Badawi nods. “That’s right. Money’s good until one day you notice the limp doesn’t go away after two weeks.” 11:06 <Quaker> “And yeah, not every conversation has to be in the box. Got to get your head out of it every now and then.” 11:06 <Quaker> “Get some perspective. Stop thinking about the next little task, think about the future for a bit, that sort of thing.” 11:07 <tom> Bob kinda just looks at her for a while. It's a little unnerving, staring at her own reflection in his stupid aviators. 11:07 <tom> "...Yeah." 11:08 <Quaker> This will be the first time Goreman’s seen her up close. Without her glasses, under the dim light of the pub chandeliers, he can see her right hand tremble, the fine scars lining her face more or less at random, how her left eye is a bit unfocused. Her teeth are too straight and white and fine to be real. 11:09 <tom> He swallows, goes for his beer. It shakes in his hand, just for a second. 11:09 <Quaker> “How’s the missus?” 11:09 <Quaker> “Bet you had a hell of a time explaining the tractor-shaped bruise.” 11:09 <tom> "Fine. A little freaked out to be on Soyjak's radar, I think." 11:10 <tom> "Yeah I tried to keep that secret for like two and a half seconds. She's a medical student, the fuck was I thinking?" 11:10 <Quaker> “How did she take it?” 11:11 <tom> "Oh, I got a talking-to." He winces. "Hey, look.." He rubs his chin, noting the stubble with distate. "I dunno if I wanna... she's trying to keep a low profile." 11:12 <tom> "Me, I'll just spill every secret I got if you get one of these in me-" Clinks the beer with his knuckle. 11:13 <tom> He breathes sharply. "Learnin' a lot of lessons about secrets these days." 11:13 <Quaker> “No worries. Just curious. Good idea to keep a distance between the work and the rest of everything.” 11:14 <Quaker> She stirs her drink. “Did you tell her about the work?” 11:15 <tom> He squints, pushing up his sunglasses just so. "She got it outta me after a little while." 11:15 <tom> "Look, I was never one of the cleaner guys, I never touched the Muninn serum." 11:16 <tom> "Not much of an op-sec guy," he explains. 11:16 <Quaker> “How’s it feel? Her knowing. Assuming she stayed.” She gives him a crooked smile. 11:17 <tom> "Probably not much worse than she feels with me knowing her business." 11:17 <tom> "I'm more worried about the kid- Willie, I mean." He tries to shift the subject. "She didn't even have a gun out on the farm." 11:18 <tom> "Didn't really need it, I guess." 11:18 <Quaker> “That’s good though.” She cracks open the soda can. “Right? Having somebody you can talk to. Tell all your secrets. And they still love you. Isn’t it?” 11:19 <tom> "She doesn't know everything yet." 11:19 <Quaker> “Sorry. Probably sensitive about it.” She laughs. “Bit of a fucking moron myself about all this talking shit, myself. Never had the talent for it.” 11:20 <tom> "You seem like you're doing okay." He nods, going for the last of his beer. Gone in a flash. "I mean, the wizards let you hang." 11:20 <Quaker> “They’re just impressed by credentials and time in service. You hungry? I heard this place has good fish and chips. One good thing about this country.” 11:21 <Quaker> “And uh…don’t worry. Anything you say to me, I don’t tell the brain trust, right?” 11:21 <tom> "They as slick as Zeno and the g- sisters? See 'em throw any fireballs?" He'll nod as she points out the food. 11:21 <Quaker> “Gotta get away from them too every now and then, right?” 11:22 <tom> "Yeah, yeah, of course. I don't have anyone to tell, really." 11:22 <Quaker> “Couldn’t tell you. They’re a bit bookish. And their gang doesn’t really like doing magic that much, surprisingly.” 11:22 <tom> "I guess I could see if Van Riper is still ignoring my e-mails." 11:22 <tom> "Phhh." He snorts. "Everyone's so responsible." 11:23 <Quaker> “Who’s that?” 11:23 <Quaker> “Van Riper.” 11:23 <tom> "The old Liason outta Quantico. I'm still trying to do my Boy Scout bullshit, you know, warn of threats." 11:24 <tom> "Don't know why they'd listen but hey, shooters shoot." 11:24 <Quaker> “I thought you were on the run? From those sorts, at least.” 11:25 <Quaker> “3-letter agencies.” 11:25 <tom> "I know how to use a VPN," he half-laughs. "TF:V doesn't operate in the U.K. so they'll have to extradite me the regular way, makes news. They don't like news." 11:26 <Quaker> “Still.” 11:26 <tom> He slouches. "I have to do something." 11:26 <Quaker> She nods as the food comes in. 11:26 <Quaker> “How long were you in the Army?” 11:28 <tom> He squints, head askew every so slightly. "About a decade this Christmas, I think. They took me off the books in June, that's when all my shit stopped working." 11:29 <Quaker> “Straight out of school?” 11:31 <tom> He pats his collarbone, where Badawi can see the lip of a scar poking out from the collar of his shirt. "Yeah I was.. doing stupid shit with the local church. My girlfriend- at the time, I mean, God, I was dumb as hell. You know, mission from God stuff, fighting the forces of darkness." 11:31 <tom> "Police picked us up when a parishioner found the pastor's fucking arsenal in the back of his truck." 11:32 <Quaker> “Uh-huh.” 11:32 <tom> "Only reason I didn't get like, four decades in prison on felony explosives charges was some Lieutenant outta Fort Leavenworth liked some of the stuff I'd been cooking up. That's how I met Task Force: Valkyrie." 11:33 <tom> "Before that, shit, my future? I was a youtuber." 11:33 <Quaker> “Like that movie.” 11:33 <tom> "So no major prospects." 11:33 <tom> "Eh?" 11:34 <Quaker> “With the fellows in prison. Except they have to do a secret mission.” 11:34 <Quaker> “So the government lets them out to do one crazy job.” 11:34 <tom> "In my case it was many crazy jobs." 11:34 <Quaker> “Hunting monsters?” 11:35 <tom> "They didn't like, put me in penal battalion, or whatever." 11:35 <tom> "I was logistics and maint for like two-thirds of my time at Snake River." 11:36 <Quaker> “You seem to have picked up some pretty useful skills.” 11:36 <tom> "We got to play with all the best toys, miss. Someday you might get to see." 11:36 <tom> He chuckles wistfully. "God damn I loved it." 11:37 <Quaker> She smiles. “I bet it was fun.” 11:37 <Quaker> “Can’t go back, though.” 11:38 <tom> He buttons up, there's just a flash of a pained expression. "Sure can't." 11:38 <tom> "Well, you had me at a decisive disadvantage when we first met, and I ain't making up the deficit. Don't know anything at all about you." 11:38 <Quaker> “So no use putting letters in a bottle and hoping the one you guy you trusted reads them instead of the ninety-nine guys you can’t.” 11:39 <Quaker> “Well….you know me. I’m an open book.” 11:39 <tom> "Are you, though?" 11:39 <tom> He taps his knuckles on the table, remembers that he's barely touched his food. 11:39 <tom> "What happened?" 11:40 <tom> He's gesturing at her hand. 11:40 <Quaker> “Pulled out all the fingernails and then drove electrified spikes into the quicks.” 11:41 <tom> Looks like he'll be holding off on touching his food for a bit longer. 11:41 <tom> "Jesus, why?" 11:42 <Quaker> She shrugs. “Why not? They caught me. They had men who liked to torture. And men who might not have liked it but kept it to themselves, or else.” 11:43 <Quaker> “Paratroopers and special forces. Argentine Army. They were still in the smuggling and racketeering game in 2001, when everything went to shit.” 11:44 <tom> He instantly thinks about the look on Her face as she'd told him about The Keeper. The fear and the sadness of it. He realizes he's been letting the silence hang too long. 11:44 <Quaker> Badawi winks. “Maybe you met them once or twice. Is Snake River near Georgia? That’s where all those fellows trained, at the School of the Americas.” 11:45 <tom> "...No, Idaho. Rocky mountains, up by Canada." 11:46 <tom> "Whole place up to Glacier is just a huge god damn mess." 11:46 <Quaker> “Anyway…ask away, if you’re curious.” 11:47 <tom> "So that's how you got your rifle, ammo, you're your own supplier." 11:48 <tom> "You're buying it from, what, guys back in Argentina, old Argentine Army contacts?" 11:48 <tom> "I'm sorry, I know it's mundane, but a man likes to know." 11:48 <tom> "I just wanna make sure I'm not getting any god damn Turkish hot-loads." 11:49 <Quaker> “Oh, no. I don’t have many friends in the Army. Quite the opposite.” She drizzles vinegar over a beautifully golden piece of cod. 11:50 <tom> He breaks the fish up into chunks with his fork. 11:50 <tom> "Sicilians, then? IRA?" 11:50 <Quaker> “I work with a group of international suppliers and fences. Here in the UK, they source weapons from Russia. I gave them some general requirements, they gave me the rest.” 11:51 <Quaker> She laughs. “No, no. Sicilians…” 11:51 <Quaker> “IRA? It’s not the 90s anymore.” 11:51 <Quaker> “Those fellows are drawing pensions.” 11:51 <tom> "I don't know who has guns!" He pouts, quietly. 11:52 <Quaker> “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Prospects for the future.” 11:52 <tom> "If I knew where to get guns I wouldn't be zipping shit up in a toolshed on my spare time." 11:53 <tom> "Yeah... yeah?" 11:53 <Quaker> “No offense. But you seem to be a bit attached to your Army days. For a man who can’t go back.” 11:53 <Quaker> “You ever think about what you’ll be doing in five years?” 11:54 <tom> "Shit, I'll probably be dead." 11:54 <tom> He goes to town on the food. 11:55 <Quaker> She eats in silence with him. 11:55 <Quaker> “That works until it’s five years later and you’re still looking at the same ceiling when you wake up.” 11:55 <tom> "If I'm getting paid as well as I am now then I'll be a millionaire by then. She'll be one too." 11:56 <tom> "Whaddaya think, Badawi, think I'll make it long enough to get a million pounds before I get sliced in half by something?" 11:56 <tom> "Or, I guess, they take over my mind and make me climb up all in a wood-chipper, or something." 11:57 <Quaker> Badawi laughs. It sounds like someone tossing a bag of river pebbles up and down. “If you haven’t been audited, which is worse.” 11:57 <Quaker> “Besides, the money all gets burnt up quick just moving it around.” 11:57 <tom> "Oh, my girl's smart, she's feeding the money into the system in increments, legitimate income stream." 11:57 <tom> "I'm just trying to set her up with a nest egg." 11:58 <Quaker> “You’ll be a millionaire with two million in the bank, spending twice that much just for peace of mind, no savings. All the while the guy who’s been running you ragged with orders banks ten times that much.” 11:58 <tom> "This is kinda stressing me out, miss.. what's it matter to you?" 11:58 <Quaker> “This Sourjack thing is interesting. But working for somebody else is a mug’s game. And it won’t last forever. Maybe a year. He’s too weird.” 11:59 <tom> He shrugs. "Then it's onto the next hustle. Maybe I can start scrapping Cheiron tech." 12:00 <Quaker> She looks up. “What do you mean, ‘what does it matter to you?’. I’m not heartless. I was in your position once. Fresh face, don’t give a shit about the future, don’t want to think about it. Somebody’s got to look out for us. Why not each other?” 12:00 <tom> "Huh." 12:00 <Quaker> “You need a job, don’t you?” 12:00 <tom> "...Thought I had one," 12:00 <tom> He squints. "What are you thinking?" 12:01 <tom> He works his tongue around the inside of his lower lip, has some 'chips'. 12:01 <Quaker> “No, I mean a real one. One with business cards, tax forms, a storefront, business email accounts, somebody’s nephew behind the front counter.” 12:02 <tom> He laughs in her face. 12:02 <tom> Okay, okay, he pulls himself back. 12:02 <tom> "Oh jeez, oh wow- no way." 12:02 <tom> "I've looked down the barrel of that gun before, miss, uh uh." 12:03 <tom> "L-look, I got savings. I got investments. I can just- play the market." 12:04 <Quaker> “And why not? You’re going to die doing this job? Running errands for somebody who won’t show you your face because it’s the first thing you picked up after going on the run? What’s the missus going to think about that, eh? She going to like the news that you’re fucking Don Quixote with no retirement plan? ‘Cos I can guarantee you she’s thinking about a nice quiet life with you that stretches on and on quite 12:04 <Quaker> comfortably.” 12:06 <Quaker> wont’ show you their face* 12:06 <tom> "She's naïve. Pretty soon she'll get bored of my stupid bullshit." 12:07 <tom> "But the money will keep existing." 12:08 <tom> "Look- what- what do you want me to do? Go apply at TESCO?" 12:09 <Quaker> “I’m pretty sure that making yourself out to be a noble, doomed provider-martyr is for the movies. Not for real life.” 12:10 <Quaker> “Nah, nothing like that. Listen. Just for the sake of conversation. Say I was your interviewer. Tell me all the things that you can do that would command a very high price. Honestly, go for it. What can you do that makes you valuable?” 12:10 <tom> "I make things." 12:10 <tom> He kinda slouches back, clapping one hand on the back of the other. 12:10 <Quaker> “And I don’t mean throwing yourself in front of things. Talking about your brain. Applying yourself. Go for it.” 12:10 <Quaker> “What kind of things?” 12:13 <tom> "I mean, as you've seen, it's mostly Bubba shit these days. A few pounds of magnesium and copper nitrate, guns, which I mean, you can't just get a job making those here. Shit, this is all super illegal." 12:13 <tom> He quiets down a bit, looking askance. 12:14 <Quaker> She honestly looks taken aback. “You absolutely can get a job doing illegal things.” Jesus. 12:14 <tom> "How is that any different from this?" 12:15 <Quaker> Composing herself: “But I mean…you know what you can do. What kind of skills are we talking about? With full choice of materials, labs, assistants, whatever.” 12:16 <tom> "If I had better tools and some staff first thing I'd do is uparmor that van, get us a smokescreen, maybe a launch rail on the roof- for a drone, I mean." 12:17 <tom> "I mean I could fucking... man," He taps his thumb on the table. "I just really don't wanna have a boss." 12:17 <Quaker> “Alright. Vehicle modification. Electronics. Gunsmithing. Custom metalworking. Security, muscle if need be. Sound about right?” 12:17 <tom> "There's nothing stopping me going to a metal fabricating shop, right? Could just do that. Don't wanna. Fuck it." 12:19 <tom> "..I guess." 12:19 <Quaker> She leans back. “Look, Goreman…” 12:20 <Quaker> Badawi runs the right words through her head. “I don’t mean this as an insult. Really. But you’re new to this business, right? Super illegal things. You’re not a criminal. You’re a soldier.” 12:20 <tom> "That is a whole other deal, miss." 12:21 <Quaker> “A professional criminal, I mean.” 12:21 <tom> "No I mean...." 12:22 <Quaker> “What?” 12:22 <tom> He rubs his face. "Look." But then he doesn't say anything for a long time. 12:23 <tom> "I did criminal shit my entire stay in the Task Force. Only it was okay, right." 12:24 <tom> "It's not a crime if the guy commissioning it has a brass stripe." 12:26 <Quaker> “But I’m talking identity-wise. In your head. You wake up and think, ‘I’m a soldier.’ You can’t stop talking about fucking Snake River. You want to swap stories with the lads. You think to yourself - ‘I’m a Sergeant in the Army, damnit!’” 12:27 <Quaker> “You send emails with very sensitive information to older men because they outrank you!” 12:27 <tom> "Corporal." God damn it. 12:27 <Quaker> “Yeah. See?” 12:27 <tom> "Alright, alright, you got me by the balls." 12:28 <tom> He waves her off. "Just tell me what I'm gonna agree to already." 12:28 <tom> She is really pretty, in that sad sorta way. 12:28 <tom> Maybe she'd like Mari? 12:28 <Quaker> “I’m not trying to make fun of you or anything. But think about it for a second. That’s over. And as painful and shitty as that is, it’s the truth. You can’t go back. They wouldn’t take you back. Your missus probably wouldn’t want you to go back. So what’s left. I’ll tell you.” 12:30 <Quaker> “Listen, like I said - you’re knew to this. But take it from me. I’m not. Your skills, my skills, they go for a very good price. Very good working conditions, if you know the right people. You don’t have a boss. You pick the jobs. None of this Sourjack voodoo shit. No monsters. Regular fucking work. Somebody watching your back. Planning for the future.” 12:30 <Quaker> you’re new to this* 12:32 <Quaker> “I’m saying, the three of us - you, me, Sexy Beast out there - we don’t have a crown or a fancy degree, right? All we got is what we can do. But that’s a real good job if you do it right. It’s real security. And trust me, I know the right people, I already work with them. Real pros, not your movie gangsters.” 12:32 <tom> He's looking at her too-perfect teeth as he talks. "Real security?" 12:33 <tom> "...You aren't like, trying to recruit me into a death squad.. right?" 12:33 <Quaker> “And none of this blood in, blood out shit. We work until we don’t want to, then we say our goodbyes, buy each other out, retire to Spain with our respective loves.” 12:33 <tom> "That does sound nice." 12:34 <Quaker> She taps her dentures. “Yeah. Believe me. This was before I got serious. When I was like you. ‘I’ll do this until I die. I’ll fight the bastards until they kill me.’ Look what it got me.” 12:34 <tom> "Didja at least... get a few of 'em?" 12:35 <Quaker> Badawi laughs. “No.” 12:35 <Quaker> “World keeps turning.” 12:35 <tom> "I'd want to." 12:35 <Quaker> “I still have bills.” 12:36 <tom> "Yeah, okay, that's the smart way to play it." 12:36 <tom> "So, what, you want me to just.. fuckin', bail?" 12:38 <Quaker> “No, no.” She holds her hand up. “Like I said. This thing…it’s interesting. We all agreed, we’ll stick to it as long as we want. But trust me. This kind of arrangement never lasts if there’s a silent partner that you don’t know. Who the hell is Sourjack?” She shrugs. “So what does he want? Who hates his guts? Who’s he on the run from? What problem is he going to make our problem?” 12:40 <Quaker> “In the meantime, we’ve got to get real jobs. Regular work. With people we can trust, using our real skills. We talk to the right people, incorporate some things, buy an office once we can pool half a million. Hire some receptionists. Do simple things that keep us entertained. It’s a safety net. And a base camp for whatever comes after this.” 12:41 <tom> "...Have you talked to the others?" 12:41 <Quaker> “Independent consultants. Security consulting, surveillance, special crafts jobs on the legal side. Whatever we want on the other side. Working with real people. Not…well, no offense to your friends.” 12:41 <tom> "None taken. I don't even wanna be a people anymore." 12:41 <Quaker> “I’d only have to talk to Sexy Beast about it. The others have got their own things.” 12:42 <tom> Bob starts to get up to pay for the meal. 12:42 <Quaker> “Hey, I asked you here. I’ve got it.” 12:42 <tom> Through clenched teeth, painfully: "Please, at least let me split it." 12:43 <Quaker> “Just think about it, alright? I hate to see you all eaten up inside, thinking like there’s no future for you. No way to live, yeah?” 12:43 <Quaker> “Nah. Respect your elders.” She taps the temple next to her unfocused eye and winks. 12:43 <tom> "Lady, I was onboard from word one," he laughs. "C'mon.." 12:43 <tom> He lets her take the pay stub. 12:44 <Quaker> “You know, Goreman, my guy would like you. You’re not too bad once you stop being so squirrelly.” 12:45 <tom> "I'm just tired. Trust me, when I wake up it starts all over again." 12:45 <Quaker> “I think there’s medication for that.” 12:45 <tom> "Yeah.. there's a lot of medications for it. I need to talk to Aster about some of that stuff." 12:46 <Quaker> “That’s the spirit. Get yourself sorted out. Get a physical. Take care of yourself. Be normal. It’s nice, trust me.” 12:46 <tom> He looks like a condemned man as he slouches out of the pub, but he'll recover. 12:47 <Quaker> That went well. Why’s Mr. Badawi always saying she goes after conversations like she’s trying to conquer enemy territory? She finessed that.