Participants:
| Scene Title | Three Spooks And Some Change |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Felix knows fedor, fedor knows minea, minea knows felix. One of these things is not like the other. |
| Date | February 9, 2009 |
The Nite Owl is a survivor from ages past - one of those ancient diners with huge plate glass windows, checkerboard linoleum floor, and a neon owl over the entrance that blinks at those entering. Inside, there's an L-shaped main counter, complete with vintage soda fountain and worn steel stools. All of the cooking is done on the ranges ranked against the rear wall. The outer wall is lined with booths upholstered in cracked scarlet vinyl, tables trimmed with polished chrome. Despite its age, it's been lovingly maintained. The air is redolent with the scent of fresh coffee, vanilla, and frying food.
He wasn't one to eat at diners really, but that isn't to say he didn't find them comforting. He wouldn't come her by himself anyway, but that's what a refined appetite does to you. Quietly in the after hours his car rolls to a stop just outside, idling quietly before it falls silent. Fedor's dressed for work tonight. Dull green nomex overalls(standard pilot apparel I assure you), combat boots, a modern aviator's jacket in a fetching shade of black and of course theres an ancient "S&W Performance center" ballcap along for the ride.
He wasn't here for the sake of deliciously delightful vittles however, no indeed it want the food at all that summoned Fedor here it was Felix. Lucky for our favorite pilot at least, it was a convenient time. Fedor pauses just inside, peering at the folks seats about from underneath his ball cap.
And Fel comes in, quietly, clad in overcoat and suit, looking weary and displeased. But his expression smooths when he sights Fedor. It's almost…respectful, of all things. "Sir," he says, politely, "You beat me here. Not waiting long, I hope?"
There's a smile, as Felix pops in aside him. "Felix."he returns politely. "No, your timing is perfect. I haven't stood here but a moment or two, now please do take a seat. This is your meeting not mine after all."He was smiles and nods, looking every bit his age at least outwardly for the moment. "I don't believe I've eaten here before."
"It's been around forever. Best 24 hour place in Manhattan, likely the city. There was a mass murder here, back in the fifties," Fel adds, as he leads the way towards a booth. "A mob killing, they thought, originally. Hell of a mess."
The bells jangle above the door again. Someone familiar to Felix for sure, and someone newly met to Fedor comes walking into the Nite Owl. It's Minea in warm leather jacket, jeans, boots, portfolio that felix is very familar with, usually carrying her work. She's done an exchange and is now looking for a place to sit, look over some papers so she can see what she's doing next. So it is that she's not very much, right away noticing the two men at the table and heading to the table. She's too focused on the black berry.
Yes, some things certainly keep time with age. "You remind me of your grandfather sometimes." Fedor smiles, its a curiosity just because this is the only time he's known any family long enough to notice. "The tone of your voice, its very impressive Felix. Your a walk down memory lane, and before I forget. You don't fancy a flight sometime, do you? I need to zip around the country to sign documents or inspect used aircraft we're purchasing occasionally, and my Mig does seat two."He pulls off his ball cap, running a hand through his nearly bald scalp before setting it aside. "Goodness, listen to me I'm carrying on like a school girl again."
"You knew Felix Suvorin. My mother says he was terrifying, and he certainly used to scare me when I was a kid. Never could lie to him. Perhaps some day, when I've free time," He glances back past Fedor. "Minea. Hey. Let me introduce someone to you. This is Fedor Igrabimov, an old friend of the family. Fedor, this is Minea. A…sometime colleague of mine," he adds, shrugging off his coat.
Fedor just cuts a glance at Felix" That was my mother's name, I'm Rochinikev and we've met before."he smiles politely, diverting his gaze from Felix on up to Minea. "Good evening, its good to see you again Miss Dahl. Goodness, a coworker of Felix's I guess that must be interesting. Do you work with forged paintings or something?"Its an old trick, one older than Fedor anyway.
"Just a moment Ivanov" you don't bunk with that voice for nearly a month, even when it's changed to not recognize it. Her thumbs keep flashing across the board though Minea's face looks up at Fedor's name. "Number 31" It won't make sense to Felix, but it will to Fedor. "Ibgrabimov.. and Rochinikev.." Minea grins, like she's been let in on some personal little joke. "We've met already, though the latter name was how I was introduced" The blackberry's thumbed one last time and slid away. "Documents. Actually" She offers her hand to Fedor. "Family friend Ivanov?"
Fel looks faintly embarrassed. "Forgive me," he says, smoothly. "My memory….a little faulty of late. How'd you meet?" he wonders, nodding to that.
"Not a problem, I'm afraid Miss Dahl that the subject of soviet ancestry is somewhat complicated. Both of us have forsaken the names of our forefathers to avoid retribution, but in any case." Fedor's attention swivels back to Fel. "We met at the art museum actually, small world I suppose. Now, documents you said. What do you do for the FBI with documents, I've been thinking about a career in the FBI myself."and actually Fedor totally looked young enough to be academy age.
"With the FBI? Not much. Validity of documents, recreation and verification. This and that. I was recently tossed into the pool with Ivanov here. We shared a loft a few times" But that's all she'll say on that matter. "He speaks the truth. We discussed a Pollock painting, exchanged business cards and parted ways" Minea stands with her folio, a smile on her face. No longer quite favoring her left arm, though sh eholds everything with her right so far.
Fel glances back and forth between them, a little bemused. "Huh," he says, as he sits, making room for the other two. "Have you?" he wonders of Fedor, not entirely able to help a grin.
"They have a good helicopter program, but I dont know. I know they don't let their pilots carry wheelguns, and I just through heaven and earth to get a permit for New York."Fedor unzips his jacket with that, and while not flaunting the cross-strap of a shoulder rig he clearly isn't trying to hide it anymore. Goodness, and he did have good grandfather stories too. Oh well. "You should come stay with me for awhile Felix, little safer where I'm staying."
"You'd have to discuss FBI business with Ivanov here. I'm not a Feeb. I'm a fed" She holds up her hands, though slides in beside Felix. She doens't blink at the shoulder strap, it's not like she's not carrying or Felix isn't, just probably the both of them a little more discreetly. "But you seem to have more than enough time to go through their program if you put your mind to it"
"I'll think about it," says Fel, noncommittally, slanting a look at Fedor. Yes, he's packing, too, though the suit is tailored to hide it.
Fedor intones just a touch"Oh a Fed, so like the CIA or the NSA then? I knew the CIA had a documents division, but never knew they worked with the FBI domestically?"Felix may have a strong notion as to whats going on, this is the soviet method of interrogation. A mixture of feigned ignorance, and polite smiles.
\Minea smiles, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Felix, your relative is very.. inquisitive" Which means, she politely declining to answer. "I'm a Fed Mr. Rochinikev. A fed is a fed is a Fed. I also work as an art consultant on the side"
"She's very spooky," says Fel, sounding positively demure, and looking extremely amused. "She's an expert on forgeries of all types, you see."
Fedor blinks coolly, "So, your domestic but not domestic enough to carry a badge and cover as FBI then. So what, like military intelligence?"He wasnt going to push the issue beyond that, but he'd already got the information he needed. She wasnt a pilot, and Naval intelligence guys were typically photography experts. No jobs they'd deploy to the field. Army intelligence she had to be, but he'd never heard of army intelligence in plain clothes. Go figure, the Americans got smart. "I see, looks like we're all very spooky."
"There's other options. I could be foreign. Maybe i'm Interpol?" Minea points out. Brows are raises just a little, enjoying his guessing game. "Why all the interest?" She nudges Felix with her arm. 'Found something of yours. Got a place I can send it to? What they have you doing lately?"
Hugh eyes Minea. "Asking me questions about what I was up to with the whole thing on the bridge. How about my office, if that's okay? Or I have a PO box…."
"The bridge, just what were you two up to?"He stays reclined, but he's willing to push it now. "Its not like I don't have the clearance, ask Felix. I'm a member of the intelligence community, just not handling the domestic stuff right now." Well now how much was he really putting Felix up to. Was he a member, well arguably yes but he did seem to be handling some domestic stuff.
"I can send it to the office. Just some books and personal stuff" Minea fills in Felix before looking to Fedor. "I think you have me wrong Mr. Rochinikev. and likely, Ivanov shouldn't be talking about whatever he was up to" She glances to Felix. "you were at what happened on a bridge?" Last she knew he was meant to be somewhere else. than the bridge. The woman frowns now, slightly, brows furrowed.
"I was not there. It tied into a case I was working on, and really shouldn't discuss," Felix says, quietly. "Suffice to say that particular threat is dealt with."
Fedor just stays quiet, well he was rebuffed subtly. Ok thats acceptable, he wont get his jollies directly it seems. "So anyway, Felix I obtained a fairly bit stack of letters from your grand father to mine. Mother was kind enough to send them, if you'd like to look at them I'd be happy to accommodate."
Minea nods drumming some fingers on the table and looking between the two men. Family talk it seems now, so she falls quiet, silent.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so tedious," Fel says, trying to lift the mood a little. "Really?" he says to Fedor. "I….I'd love to. I never knew him well."
Fedor produces his card in whats becoming his trademark snap of the fingers, and drops it on the table. Quickly he scribbles on the back, before turning it back over and sliding it across the table to Felix. "I hate to be rude, but I must get home. George will wonder whats become of me if I don't hurry along, but please Felix. That's where I'm living right now, please feel free to drop by. I'd love to show them to you, he was a very interesting man of course." Fedor smiles, before slipping out've the booth. "And a goodnight to you both, you have my number if you need me."
"have a good evening Mr. Rochinikev" Minea offers up. She has his card, yes indeedy, tucked away with other cards that she gets. No move made to stop the man, but a friendly smile offered up.
Hugh tucks it away. "I'll come visit, soon. I'd love to see those letters," he says, quietly, lost in thought.
Minea watches Fedor walk away, tend to someone named George before she gets up, sliding into the now vacant seat that the other man occupied. "What the hell Ivanov?"
Fel looks, appropriately enough, haunted. "It's a long, weird story. He's something old, sort of a monster who owes my family a favor. I'm not joking," he says, quietly.
"By what the hell I meant what the hell was with his covertly asking who I am and what I do? But .." She glances back to the door then to Felix. "Evolved?"
"I think so. I know so," he amends, hastily. "And he's nosy. KGB. Is or was. Like I said. A monster."
Minea sighs. "I didn't appreciate that. He should know better then. He bad news? Neutral news?"
Fel's smile is…oddly wistful. "I think he's very bad news for my enemies. Specifically, Gabriel Gray, should he still live."
"mmhhh hmm" Minea muses, studying Felix. "No re-assignment yet. They seem content to keep me where I am. I got my next round. I haven't heard anything yet from the police as to how the investigation into Einlieter's accident. Though, to be fair, they're more focused on the rash of incidents like the bridge, but, now that the monster is gone. How you holding up? Need to bunk at the loft?"
"I'm okay. I think no one's after me, for the moment. Just got to find the time to hunt down a new apartment," Fel says, wryly, as the waitress comes by to pour more coffee.
'Good. good" Minea breathes deep. "Need anything, let me know. I'll see what I can do for you, or strings I can pull. I cut ties with them. Visited Dr. Bianco and he worked his magic. Moved my wound. You look pretty chipper, last I knew you were hospital bound"
The Fed glances out at the dim streets beyond the plate glass. "I've …I've been very lucky. I know a healer, and she helped me out. Which is why I'm not likely dead of an infection or still in a coma," he notes.
Minea tilts her head before leaning in. "Christian's.. Restorationist?" How many healers are there. "The one who helped with removing the bullet" a glance to where she knew the bullet would have rested before.
"One of them," Fel says, embarrassed at forgetting how she might've known.
Minea nods. "Getting low on lives there kitty" She teases him, trying to wash over the forgetfulness. "How many of them are left? Three? Two?" She smiles at Felix as she doctors her coffee. "I still have a list of apartments, from finding the last one, or do you need something smaller?"
"A studio'd do me. I'm never home," Fel says, pulling a face. "I don't even have pets, nowadays."
"I have spare time, i'll dig for you" Minea offers. "Last act of fedsitting, on the house" She takes a sip from her coffee. "I was screwing wozniak:
"I….yes?" Felix says. IT doesn't mean anything to him, not yet. He never knew Conrad.
"Was part of that group. The one who brought the ConEd plant down on himself" her voice obviously low enough for just the two of them.
It's taking him a little, but Fel is cluing in. "I….oh," he says, softly. "He didn't make it, did he?"
"He brought the plant down on his head Felix. What do you think. never knew he was part of them. Not till the end. was sorta of a don't ask, don't tell policy. Picked him up while he was picking my pockets and trying to steal the malibu" Minea shrugs. "I should let you be kitty. Your probably neck deep in stuff. I need to get these papers back"
About that sleeping with terrorists thing. It's on Fel's lips to confess, but he folds them under for a moment. "Go well. I'm sorry for your loss," he says, gently.
"I'm getting him back. I think I wasn't the only one warming his bed. We're going halves on his grave marker. Gonna put him facing a virgin mary in a graveyard I think" She offers her hand to Felix. No tears or breaking down for Minea. "Sleep well Fel. Call if you need anything"
He takes her hand, shakes it firmly. "Same goes for you, lady."
It's firm, tight, lingers a moment than probably is necessary before she pulls it back. Her money down for her coffee, she's grabbing her folio. "Keep your friend away from me. I don't like him. If I find his nose in my business…" it goes unsaid.
Fel smiles, wryly. "I understand. I'll let him know, honest."
"Good." She trusts Felix. She does trust Fedor it seems. Out of the booth she slides, a nod to the waitress and soon enough, Minea's heading for the door.
 February 9th: Stupid |
 February 9th: Sanguine |