10:57 <tom> There's a grey truck pulled off the road up ahead, just past the sign letting the reader know they're now in 'Crumpsall'. In the passenger seat is a man. The man has been drinking. 10:59 <tom> Still, he's in good enough humor to snort as the woman on the bicycle rounds the bend. Fucking really? 11:01 <tom> He hauls himself out the passenger-side door and pulls himself up straight, hauls up the water bottle and swigs. He proceeds around the back of the truck, patting his palm on the wheel well. Inside, folding tables, plastic cases, and bulky duffel bags. 11:02 <tom> He hefts one of the bags over one shoulder, grabs the folding table under his free arm. It's cold out, so he's in a hooded jacket. 11:02 <tom> He gestures out toward the field for her to follow. 11:02 <Quaker> Badawi brakes to a slow stop near his truck. “Is it near here? The ground is just a bit soggy.” She’s just a bit out of breath from pedaling through English mud. 11:03 <Quaker> She nods and steps off the bicycle, huffing as she grabs and lifts it into the truck bed before following the younger man into the clearing. 11:04 <tom> "Ha! Yeah, I already set up some targets out in the field, I just wanna get a little further off the road to avoid any rubber-neckers." 11:04 <tom> "...Shit, I'da picked you up, but uh, I can't drive right now..." 11:05 <tom> He has another swig of the water bottle. 11:05 <tom> He proceeds through the hedgerows into a cleared, fenced pasture that extends between two rows of trees for some distance. 11:06 <Quaker> “Are you drunk?” 11:08 <tom> "...Less than I was an hour ago." There, he'll unfold the table and sling the bag off his shoulder onto it. He heads back to the truck to pick up the rest, briefly leaving Badawi alone in the wet, brown field. 11:08 <tom> He hops back up the trail, trying to hide how red his face is. 11:09 <tom> In his hands he's got a slim briefcase. 11:09 <tom> "...Technically I was off the clock before I started." 11:09 <Quaker> Not the time to pry, she thinks. After all, she was drunk in front of the rest of them a few nights ago. Still…. 11:10 <Quaker> It’s not a habit for her. 11:10 <tom> He'll spin the briefcase around on the folding table and present it to her, grinning under those stupid sunglasses. 11:11 <Quaker> “Are you alright to handle firearms?” She looks around the sodden little meadow. So much for pleasant pastures. 11:12 <tom> Click, pop, he flips it open. The foam interior is cut into blocky spaces containing the parts of a rifle. There's a bulbous optic wedged in between the space for spare magazines. "No ma'am. But I already sighted it and got the proofing in. She's put through fifteen-hundred rounds." 11:14 <tom> He pops out the two halves of the rifle and slides them together with a metallic pop. The whole thing seems to hinge on the receiver, folding over when stored. He now unfolds the weapon and presses down on a detent, popping free a sliding stock that he pulls to fit into his shoulder. 11:14 <Quaker> “Very nice.” 11:15 <tom> "See, normally you'd uh, have a threaded barrel and screw it in, but you want precision, yeah? So the whole upper hinges down, so you don't have to re-sight the damn thing every time you shoot, like you'd have'ta if you went with the detachable barrel." 11:15 <tom> He's clapping the optic onto the rail. 11:15 <tom> "It's a bolty, unlike your SVD. Had to give up the automatic feed to make it safe with the higher pressures on the thinner barrel." 11:16 <tom> Bob fits in the bipod and sets the whole thing down on the table next to its case. https://i.imgur.com/rIKxMl8.jpg 11:17 <tom> "So, I uh, I got some towels if you want to just set up on the grass..." 11:17 <tom> He gestures down the field. "I've been putting down empty bottles as targets." 11:21 <Quaker> Badawi lays down the towels on the wet grass. Even then, water seeps through. It’s alright, though: she’s only wearing a hoodie and some sweatpants. 11:22 <Quaker> Sitting crosswise at first, she holds the assembled rifle in her hands, running her fingertips along the metal. 11:22 <Quaker> It’s very well-balanced. 11:22 <Quaker> The higher-end NVG optical sits perfectly on top. 11:22 <tom> He brings her over some foam earplugs with the spare magazines. Agostina may notice letters embossed in silver on the upper receiver of the rifle: LUISA. 11:23 <tom> "Is Agostina your real name, or just another cover?" 11:23 <tom> "Sorry. I've been thinking." 11:23 <Quaker> She notices the barrel, which is bulkier than normal: internal suppresors, to throw off the sound of gunshots. 11:24 <Quaker> “Isn’t it both?” 11:24 <tom> He notices her gaze. "Yeah, just bring it to me after every op. There's rubber baffles seperated by spacers. There's only a pinhole poked through each to start, so the slug will form a seal as it passes through." 11:24 <tom> "Ah, you do hang with wizards. You got the cryptic non-answer question thing down." 11:25 <Quaker> Badawi picks up the magazines. “Same caliber as the SVD?” 11:26 <tom> "I punted it down just a smidge, we're using Winchester .308. Three-oh-eight's slightly lighter, but the recoil's actually significantly higher than your Dragunov, so get it nice 'n snug in your shoulder." 11:26 <tom> "It's because we don't have the weight of all that sweet, sweet, Soviet molded birch furniture, right." 11:27 <tom> "So you're lighter, yeah, you can fold it up, but that comes at a cost." 11:28 <Quaker> Badawi lifts the gun to her shoulder and peers through the sight. Her left hand grasps the bipod, which she realizes has been manufactured to be extremely flexible. It bends on a joint, which means she’ll be able to hold the gun level no matter the angle of her shot. “I’ll take some tylenol after we get back from a job.” 11:28 <tom> "...You'll get a bit more drop out past six hundred meters with the Winchester. You just gotta get used to it." 11:29 <Quaker> She puts a magazine in and racks the bolt. “I don’t mean it to be cryptic. It’s my real name. Sometimes it feels like a cover, depending on who I’m using with it.” 11:29 <Quaker> “Why?” 11:29 <Quaker> “Actually-“ 11:30 <Quaker> She lays down in the grass. “It’s not my real name.” 11:30 <Quaker> “It’s close to it, but Anglos don’t use their family names.” 11:30 <tom> He rubs his stubble. "I don't meanta put you on the spot... it's just really hard to come up with anything snappy." 11:31 <tom> "It's a verbal roadblock, ma'am. It's killing me." 11:31 <tom> He mouths Ba-da-wi. 11:33 <tom> "...How're the optics? The first bottles're about.... a hundred'n ten meters downrange." 11:34 <Quaker> “My given name is Graciela Agostina Maria Juri.” 11:34 <tom> He's standing next to her in the field, squinting to see if he can make out the targets. 11:35 <Quaker> The night-vision makes it easy. “I see them.” 11:35 <tom> "There's three names in there that aren't Agostina and you went with that one. Respect." 11:36 <tom> "...Can I get away with calling you 'Tina'?" 11:36 <Quaker> “No.” 11:36 <tom> "Fuck." 11:36 <Quaker> “Agostina is what my mother called me.” 11:37 <tom> "Well, Agostina, you have the rangemaster's clearance to fire when ready." 11:37 <tom> He sets in his earplugs. 11:38 <Quaker> She makes sure the little foam plugs are snug in her ear canals and then sets the rifle in her shoulder. A breath goes- 11:39 <Quaker> A bottle bursts. An inch to the right of where she would like it. 11:39 <Quaker> “It shoots very well. Still used to the SVD scope, though.” 11:40 <tom> "It always feels stilted the first time on a new rifle. It's a straight-pull bolt, so it should be silky-smooth to use." 11:40 <Quaker> Badawi takes her eye of the scope and fiddles with the gauges on the optic for a moment. Then, another bottle bursts. 11:40 <Quaker> eye off* 11:40 <Quaker> “I’m anticipating the recoil before I pull the trigger. I just need to get used to it.” 11:41 <Quaker> She does a bit better on the next few shots. Still, there’s no substitute for experience. 11:42 <Quaker> “What’s wrong with Agostina?” 11:43 <Quaker> “It’s Italian. It means ‘to increase.’” 11:44 <tom> He squints, rubs the back of his neck. "Nothing! Nothing, just, you know," he's snapping its fingers. "It's a very advanced name, miss. I have always shown respect to our italian brothers and sisters. I just mean. Susana's easy enough on the tongue. Luisa, too." 11:44 <tom> "I figured you picked the name just to fuck with us." 11:47 <Quaker> “You’ve never considered that my name, to me, is perfectly normal? Or that ‘Bob’, to me, sounds exotic and unfamiliar?” 11:47 <tom> "Well, now, I know that," He shrugs. "I'm sorry ma'am, I just can't get a read where we stand at all." 11:48 <Quaker> She gets three shots off as quickly as she can. Three bottles explode. Her aim is still off….but she’ll work on it. 11:49 <tom> He hands her a fresh magazine. "That's actually the second rifle. The prototype had feed issues." 11:49 <Quaker> Bob gets a quick sideways glance. “Why are you acting put out? I’m not angry.” 11:49 <Quaker> She swaps magazines. The new one slides home with a satisfying ‘click.’ 11:50 <tom> "Wh- oh, uh, never mind about that. Just had some time to think." 11:50 <tom> He puts on a brave face: "You know how this job gets sometimes." 11:51 <Quaker> She shrugs. 11:51 <Quaker> Time to try something new. She sits up crosslegged again, putting the rifle up from a sitting position. 11:52 <tom> He goes for the water bottle again. "So how'd you get messed up with the alumni of the S.O.A?" 11:53 <Quaker> “My full family name is Icera Moukarzel Izurieta Irazuzta Leger Badawi.” 11:54 <Quaker> “What is the S.O.A.?” 11:54 <tom> "The guy who prints the wedding invitations must be kicking himself for not charging by the letter." 11:54 <Quaker> “Is that water in the bottle?” 11:54 <tom> "Yeah. Want one? Gotta stay hydrated." 11:54 <Quaker> “Sure.” 11:55 <tom> He goes back to the rental truck, returns in a moment. "I heard they're going by, the, fuckin', "Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation" these days." 11:55 <tom> "The School of the Americas." 11:56 <tom> He hands her the water bottle and squats down to check the battery on the optic. 11:56 <Quaker> “Oh.” 11:56 <tom> "It's chill if you don't want to... but it's been on my mind." 11:56 <Quaker> She thought he meant…usually Americans process reality through references to television shows about outlaw figures, so…. 11:57 <Quaker> “That battalion didn’t have any officers who had studied abroad, actually.” 11:58 <Quaker> “They had something a client wanted. They caught me. Somebody bought my freedom. Pretty simple.” 12:00 <tom> "What was it? The thing. The some thing." 12:02 <Quaker> “It was a…” She tries to remember. “Not a music box, but a….” 12:03 <Quaker> “A figurine. Japanese. It played music when you twisted a small knob beneath its stand. A candyman and a little girl.” 12:03 <Quaker> She sings the tune for a moment. “Who can make the sun rise…” 12:04 <tom> He sets his jaw. "Doesn't seem worth it." Bob squints. "Looks like we've got everything close up. Out by that barn there's more. The barn's six-hundred-fifty meters, so you'll have to adjust for wind which is..." He licks his thumb, holds it up. "....I'd say about 5 miles per hour... from the South." 12:04 <Quaker> “It had an intense sentimental value.” 12:04 <tom> "Did you end up getting it?" 12:05 <Quaker> “No.” 12:05 <Quaker> “In fact, they smashed it in front of me.” 12:06 <Quaker> “Do you know who Irma Mogilner was?” 12:06 <tom> "Not a clue, ma'am." 12:06 <Quaker> “No…why would you?” 12:08 <tom> "I just..." 12:08 <Quaker> “Anyway. She disappeared in 1977. The figurine was a gift from her father to her, in expectation of her baby. They took it when they took her, for some reason. It was in a paratrooper officer’s office safe. The father found out all those years later and asked my boss if someone could get it.” 12:09 <tom> Badawi might see Bob clutch his hands into fists if she's paying attention. 12:09 <Quaker> “After he got me out, my boss ended up buying another one for the father off some online trader. Told him the fee was waived. But we got it for him.” 12:09 <Quaker> “So. Happy ending.” 12:10 <tom> "Is it, dude? Is it really a happy ending?" 12:10 <tom> "Sorry." 12:10 <tom> "I'm about to say something really stupid, Agostina. Possibly the stupidest thing a dude's ever said." 12:10 <Quaker> She nails a bottle by the door. 12:11 <Quaker> “I doubt it.” 12:11 <tom> "...I took the offer from the Army because I really fucking thought I was gonna save the world." 12:11 <Quaker> “From who, exactly?” 12:11 <tom> "Sure, like, yeah. That's what it means to be a Warfighter." 12:11 <tom> "Vampires. The Taliban. The Vampire Taliban." 12:12 <tom> "Pandorans." 12:13 <Quaker> “Did you ever find any?” 12:14 <tom> "A couple here and there. I spent eight of my ten years doing tune-ups and zeroing rifles, managing the eye in the sky via remote. Got promoted to Tactical by some vacancies." 12:15 <tom> "I met a lot of guys like those dudes." 12:16 <Quaker> “If you were in the United States military, then you worked for those dudes.” 12:16 <tom> He sweeps the field for untouched bottles. "Twenty degrees to your left, by the stone fence." 12:16 <tom> He rubs the back of his neck. "Well, not anymore I don't, at least." 12:16 <Quaker> “It’s alright. I’ve worked for worse.” 12:17 <tom> "Don't say that until you've met the guy, but sure, I appreciate it." 12:17 <Quaker> The beaded sight settles over a Coke bottle on a rough masonry wall. 12:17 <tom> "...Like who?" 12:18 <Quaker> “Are you familiar with your modern Italian history?” 12:18 <Quaker> “Or modern Latin American history?” 12:18 <tom> "I am not even familiar with modern American history." 12:19 <Quaker> “Then the names wouldn’t mean much to you.” 12:19 <Quaker> “But…” 12:21 <Quaker> “Beneath the real world, beneath politics and society, there was a hidden web of sympathetic relationships. Like a hole in the world all the blood and money and insanity ran down towards.” 12:22 <Quaker> “Not even money, for most of them. For Christ, Nation, Family. Obedient servants.” 12:23 <Quaker> “Some strange occult connections. Dark insane sciences that led nowhere. Into darker holes.” 12:23 <Quaker> “Do you know the name Jose Lopez Rega?” 12:24 <tom> He shakes his head in silence. 12:26 <Quaker> “He was a very strange person. A hanger-on to the dying exiled titan of Argentine politics. When the titan died, he stepped into power for a brief period, before the military took control. His nickname was El Brujo. Obsessed with horoscopes, magic, hermetics…” 12:26 <Quaker> “My great-uncle was a close associate of his.” 12:27 <tom> "...These don't sound like very happy people." 12:28 <Quaker> Badawi laughs. 12:28 <Quaker> “I couldn’t tell you either way. Is impunity happiness?” 12:28 <tom> "...I kinda like to think that deep down, shitty people know they're shitty." 12:29 <tom> "You said they kidnapped a pregnant woman and, what, I'm guessing they killed her and kept her keepsake as a tropy." 12:30 <tom> "How does that not make you just, completely fucking insane?" 12:30 <Quaker> “I think the baby was the trophy.” 12:31 <tom> "Grim, ma'am." 12:31 <Quaker> “They certainly weren’t insane.” 12:31 <Quaker> “They were very normal.” 12:31 <tom> "That's even shittier, wow." 12:31 <tom> "Was there a point to any of it, the weird secret societies, the murder-rapist paratroopers?" 12:32 <Quaker> “That web went all sorts of places. A huge network, tying people together across the world.” 12:32 <Quaker> “Sure. They won that war, didn’t they?” 12:33 <tom> "I can't say, but I hope not." 12:34 <tom> It's starting to rain. Bob glances down at the rifle. "There's still a few targets if you want to keep shooting. But we can chat in the truck if you wanna get warm." The cold probably isn't good for the fake teeth. 12:34 <tom> "...Do you mind driving?" 12:34 <Quaker> “They won it in Argentina. Even if most found themselves on the wrong end of things as everything collapsed. The Malvinas War. Then the crash in the late 80s. They started to tear each other apart. They were always killing each other, of course.” 12:34 <Quaker> “No, I’ll drive. I’m not very good at it, though.” 12:35 <tom> "I have almost died at every single Roundabout I've encountered so far, Agostina." 12:35 <Quaker> “The Italian side of things was more resilient.” 12:35 <Quaker> “Neo-fascists. Torturers. Terrorists. Shadow bankers.” 12:36 <tom> He takes up the rifle and pops out the magazine, folds the front down. Badawi can see the whole chamber of the rifle and down the barrel as he pops it into the rectangular cut-out in its case next to the optic. He clicks the briefcase shut and holds it out for her. 12:36 <Quaker> “Until the 1990s, from what I can tell. Most everything everywhere was shaken up pretty well, no matter whose side you were on. The whole Italian political system from the end of the war collapsed.” 12:37 <tom> Then he'll busy himself picking up the towels and throwing them in the bed with the other gear. 12:37 <Quaker> She takes it and starts to fold the wet towels. 12:38 <tom> "So, they were like... Cabal types, I guess." 12:38 <tom> "...Did any of 'em ever go to jail?" 12:39 <Quaker> “The network in Italy went through a moment of crisis. A civil war, really. Not that violent, but decisive.” 12:39 <Quaker> “In Argentina? Many, actually. They had new trials just a few years ago.” 12:40 <tom> Sullen as he gets into the passenger side of the rental truck: "...You recognize any mugshots? You know, the guys who.. getting what they deserve?" 12:40 <Quaker> “Oh, those ones? No, they were too young to be the ones on trial for what happened in the 70s.” 12:41 <Quaker> “All their crimes are just normal business. Background noise. There’s no human rights commission coming for them.” 12:41 <tom> Bob grimaces, which is a telltale sign the next words out of his mouth are going to be deeply stupid. 12:41 <tom> "If you give me names, faces, and are willing to wait until after we get our next Soyjak stipend, I can kill them for you." 12:41 <tom> "I will straight up ice them." 12:42 <Quaker> Agostina laughs as she gets into the cab. 12:42 <Quaker> “Why?” 12:44 <tom> A wild look flashes across his face at her laughter, but he gets it under control. "The fuck you mean, 'why'." 12:44 <tom> "I will learn Spanish, dude. I will GO to Argentina." 12:44 <Quaker> “Why would you kill them?” 12:45 <tom> "Murder, kidnapping, torture." 12:45 <tom> "You seem to think they're at-large." 12:45 <tom> "How's that any different from what we do here?" 12:46 <tom> He takes out another bottle of water. "...We'll need to drop by the Greybox to offload all this stuff. I can sleep this off on the bunks." 12:46 <Quaker> “But why would you kill them if I asked you to?” 12:46 <tom> "...Because I'm a fucked up freak who likes to have an excuse to murder people, okay?" 12:47 <tom> "You said it yourself. I worked for those people." 12:48 <Quaker> Badawi pulls further off the shoulder. 12:48 <tom> He taps his thumb on the passenger's armrest. 12:48 <Quaker> “Do you think it would make me happier?” 12:48 <tom> He taps quicker. "Wouldn't it? Wouldn't you like to see the murderfuckers dead?" 12:49 <tom> "Doesn't it just make you furious?" 12:50 <Quaker> She drums her fingers against the steering wheel. 12:50 <tom> "Okay, maybe that's a fucking lie too, okay. Maybe I'm just insane, and you're pretty, and they hurt you, and that makes me mad, okay!" He raises his shoulders. "Whaddaya want from me, lady?" 12:50 <Quaker> “I would say that the memory of that makes me feel many things.” 12:51 <Quaker> “Not only angry.” 12:52 <tom> "Yeah? Like what? How bad it sucks to have your teeth get popped out like a Ren and Stimpy bit?" 12:52 <tom> The red in Bob's cheeks has spread to the rest of his face. He's squinting to hide the wetness in his eyes. 12:53 <tom> "I'd kill 'em. I'd kill 'em so hard they'd know they deserved it." 12:53 <Quaker> “Fear. I’d probably try to end myself quickly if I was captured like that again.” 12:53 <Quaker> “Relief. Knowing I’m escaped from there.” 12:54 <tom> "...You have more in common with Mari than you know." 12:54 <Quaker> “Gratitude. For the people that bought my freedom.” 12:54 <Quaker> “Happiness. I’m happy that I have a future after all.” 12:55 <Quaker> “Love. I love my husband for begging our boss to spend the money.” 12:55 <tom> "...I guess that makes sense," Bob shrugs. Looks out the window so she can't see his face. 12:55 <Quaker> “What’s wrong?” 12:56 <tom> "It's like there's two options, yeah." He holds up a pair of fingers. "Either you're a motherfucker or you're a mother-fucked." 12:56 <tom> "I Do Not Care For It." 12:57 <Quaker> “I meant, what’s wrong with you?” 12:57 <tom> "...You're going to Samhain, yeah?" 12:57 <Quaker> “Yes.” 12:58 <Quaker> “Why?” 12:58 <tom> "You'll meet Sumiya there. She's... really cool. They turned her into a piece of furniture and she had to stand in place all day for years. She murdered her own twin sister in an alleyway." 12:58 <tom> "I am going bug-fuck in-sane." 13:00 <Quaker> “Her twin sister? Why?” 13:01 <tom> "Dunno. I just... I really hoped for a second when I got here that it'd be different, you know. That I finally found something perfect, innocent, people I wouldn't mind dying for, y'kno- well, no, you wouldn't, sorry." 13:01 <tom> "But it's just more messy shit." 13:02 <tom> "It's naive shit, I know, don't roast me too hard, okay, I get enough from Aaron." 13:03 <Quaker> She’s glad they’re in the cab. The drizzle is starting to turn into something more substantial. 13:04 <tom> It's nice to watch the droplets coalesce and run down the window in streams. Better than looking at her. He rubs his eyes with his thumbs. 13:04 <Quaker> Badawi lets the silence stretch for a while. 13:04 <tom> "I just keep hoping if I get a chance, eventually I can shoot enough assholes to undo some of the damage." 13:05 <Quaker> Badawi thinks for a bit. 13:05 <Quaker> “Let me finish my story.” 13:05 <tom> "Sure." 13:07 <Quaker> “So…back in the 1990s. Civil war in the network, new leadership. Sick of the old ways, old obsessions. The second generation, you know. Tired of their parents’ ravings. Eager to make money in the new world. New connections, new work. Lots of restructing. Divestment. Looking the other way in the name of a new vision.” 13:08 <Quaker> “All before my time. I was just a kid then.” 13:09 <Quaker> “I didn’t make it back to Argentina until 1997, when my mother died.” 13:09 <tom> "I'm sorry." 13:09 <tom> Bob doesn't talk to his parents anymore. 13:10 <Quaker> “I started working for them in 2000. There was a very, very bad crash in 2001. Things fell apart for everybody for a while. That was when I got picked up by those Army troopers.” 13:11 <Quaker> “Then…” She shrugs. “I recover, learn, go abroad. All kinds of work, whatever needs doing. Fall in love, get married.” 13:12 <tom> "Aw," 13:12 <Quaker> “In 2012, I have some personal trouble. I look for help outside my work contacts. I start working for the alchemists. They train me, too.” 13:13 <Quaker> “So I work for them in Spain. For years. And then…” She shrugs, again. Like a tic in response to people wanting more from her. “Came across the Mysterium. Took an involuntary one-way flight to England.” 13:14 <tom> "...'Involuntary'?" 13:14 <tom> ".......Are you saying that fucking reddit memechimp Tacocat or whatever is holding you hostage??" 13:15 <tom> "Fuck going after Argentine Special Forces, I'll bully that nerd for free." 13:15 <Quaker> Badawi shakes her head. “Not really. Hostage is too strong a word. I work for them willingly.” 13:16 <Quaker> “It was just, er…” 13:17 <Quaker> “Well. The offer wasn’t very complicated. Either I jump ship to them, and bring along some things from the alchemists, or I’m retired. Forcibly.” 13:17 <Quaker> “So…” 13:17 <tom> "Again, the offer to shoot people is on the table." 13:17 <Quaker> “Who? Why?” 13:17 <Quaker> “I was stealing from them.” 13:18 <tom> "Serves 'em right for being a bunch of fucking nerds." 13:19 <tom> He turns in his seat and locks eyes with Badawi. They're only a little red. "I'm done like, like..." 13:19 <Quaker> “They really aren’t nerds.” 13:19 <tom> "Trying to be reasonable, trying to be smart." 13:19 <tom> "I can see daylight. I just wanna... I wanna fuckin'... power through until that peephole gets wide enough to crawl out through." 13:21 <tom> "I saw the man's desktop ma'am. You will never convince me that Octocat is not the biggest fucking nerd." 13:21 <Quaker> Where was she going with this? It’s hard to remember when he’s going all to pieces like this. 13:22 <Quaker> Oh, right…. 13:22 <tom> "Hey, I'm sorry, you can just tell me to shut up." 13:22 <Quaker> “Remember my great-uncle?” 13:22 <tom> "Yeah." 13:23 <Quaker> “Hugo Yofre Weldmann. Fascist. Torturer. Occultist.” 13:23 <tom> "Sounds like a real cooool guy." 13:23 <Quaker> “More like my grandfather. He raised my father.” 13:24 <Quaker> “Oswaldo Weldmann Izurieta.” 13:24 <Quaker> “A confused person.” 13:24 <Quaker> “He reminds me of you, actually.” 13:24 <tom> "Haha! That's great." 13:25 <Quaker> “It was a very confused time.” 13:25 <tom> "Was? Is." 13:25 <tom> He shuts himself up. She's trying to finish her story, dude... 13:27 <Quaker> “My father, as a student, was a very ardent nationalist. The Izurietas were an old, respected family. The best private schools, hotbeds for that kind of thinking. He joined…well, you wouldn’t know the name. Tacuara.” She casts around for the word. “Falangists.” 13:27 <Quaker> “My grandfather encouraged him in it.” 13:28 <Quaker> “But…my father drifted. The confusing times. He ended up with catholic revolutionary militants. Williing to kill and die for the titan. Eventually their respective camps found themselves on opposite sides.” 13:30 <Quaker> “But…there was plenty of work for both of them. Lots of space. Eventually…all the militants were dead, and my grandfather pulled enough strings to save my father, even get him a job killing for new people. The military, the ones in charge.” 13:32 <Quaker> “A chaotic time. A very bad time. Killing was light as a feather. The chiefs of the whole thing hated each other, too. People, even people who worked for this or that general, would go missing. Connected people, even. All it took was a word. My father’s name ended up on a list.” 13:32 <Quaker> “My grandfather tried to pull some more strings. His name goes on the list now, too.” 13:33 <Quaker> She laughs. “And in the middle of all this, my father meets my mother, a Syrian student.” 13:33 <Quaker> “A whole relationship where one is already dead.” 13:33 <tom> "Christ." 13:33 <Quaker> “So…” 13:34 <Quaker> “They vanish. She has me. In hiding. Down to Patagonia, with some friends. Then back to Syria.” 13:35 <Quaker> “Julia Leger Badawi.” 13:35 <tom> "Julia's a pretty name." 13:36 <Quaker> “You know, she never admitted to herself what had actually happened. To anyone. Not even her family back in Syria. My father would always be away on some business. Always on the threshold. Always about to appear. Always sighted.” 13:36 <Quaker> “Somewhere.” 13:36 <Quaker> “Really nowhere.” 13:36 <tom> "...Did you ever find out for sure?" The words falter coming out of his mouth. 13:37 <Quaker> “Who knows. Testimonies…like trying to put together ten different broken mirrors to see through it.” 13:39 <Quaker> “My mother dies of cancer. 1997. My family in Syria…not rich, but connected. They have the name of an Italian, an old family friend. A friend of my father’s, actually. And that was all I needed to go back. My new boss. The winning side of that civil war in the 90s.” 13:39 <Quaker> “He’s here in England, actually.” 13:40 <Quaker> “I can’t say that he’s enjoying his time here. But he’s not not enjoying it. And there’s always opportunity here.” 13:41 <tom> "...Why are you telling me all this?" 13:41 <Quaker> “You know, I think we may be opposites.” 13:41 <Quaker> “You start out in love, become violently disillusioned.” 13:41 <Quaker> “I start out wary…becoming more illusioned.” 13:41 <tom> "...But you went into the woodchipper backwards." 13:42 <tom> That gets a sad smile. "Hey, maybe there's hope for us doomers after all." 13:43 <Quaker> “Well, listen.” 13:43 <Quaker> “My mother.” 13:43 <Quaker> “What do you think would have made her happy?” 13:44 <tom> He exhales. "Fhhhooooooooo... never getting involved with your father's people in the first place?" 13:44 <Quaker> “No.” 13:44 <Quaker> “Don’t overthink it.” 13:45 <tom> "Dunno. Some grandkids, I bet." 13:45 <tom> "Look, lady, if I understood how women think, I would have played things a lot differently in my life." 13:46 <Quaker> “You have some self-esteem issues.” 13:46 <tom> "You haven't done the things I have." 13:46 <Quaker> “So?” 13:48 <tom> "So maybe fair's fair. So maybe-" he stops himself before this becomes a whole thing. "I don't know what your mom would've liked." 13:48 <Quaker> “My father, probably. Walking through the door.” 13:49 <tom> He cringes as if struck, tries to hide it. "Ah, fuck." 13:50 <Quaker> Badawi starts the engine. 13:50 <Quaker> Slowly, the truck pulls out onto the rainy road. Little streams are going down the gutters. 13:51 <Quaker> “One more thing.” 13:51 <Quaker> “Do you have a problem with Muslims?” 13:52 <tom> "I have already thought about becoming the world's most surveiled American expat to win my girl's father's approval, ma'am." 13:52 <tom> "So no." 13:52 <Quaker> “Alright.” 13:53 <Quaker> “Our new driver is Muslim. Just checking.”