A Mixed Day


lashirah_icon.gif ryans2_icon.gif

Scene Title A Mixed Day
Synopsis Ryans and Lashirah briefly chat about what happened. She breaks the bad news about Ivan Spektor.
Date August 26, 2010

Somewhere in the Baltic Sea

Lashirah leans back against one of the structures on the upper deck, getting a last bit of fresh air before the ship starts travel. After all, she has no idea how long a sail is ahead of them. A bandage from the supplies onboard is on her cheek from the closest call to death anyone ever needs… yet… there is comfort in it knowing that Eldridge needs far worse. On the floor infront of her are three items. The first is a new 'friend', the sniper rifle she abseconded with, and has found a bit of skill with. Next to it, on either side, are a pair of composite armor plates, about five inches by five inches. One is numbered 0003, the other 0005.

All in all, one might say, Lash is having a 'mixed' day for success rate.

"Lee." The name is spoken loudly and clipped, the voice coming from a familiar source, before Benjamin Ryans comes around the corner. Fedora still on his head, damp from the rain, his coat hanging heavily around his form. His head turns when something catches his eye and he looks her direction, relief flitting across his features. Having just arrived at the ship himself, the Assistant-Director had to make sure his one agent was still mobile.

His eyes drops to what is on the ground, brows lifting slightly at the sight. "Seems I wasn't the only one with a run in with the Institute." The words spoken softly, if a bit bitter in tone. "Harper was at the theater."

Lashirah looks up slowly. "Ryans." She frowns. "We had more than a run-in. We got ambushed. Two of them got away." She leans back. "And they all would have if we weren't helped by a supposedly dead man." She says this with a slow deliberate tone to her voice.

"Ryans, Ivan's gone. Grenade took out the SUV. He shielded Noah as best I can tell." She pauses a moment. "And… Noah called in favors alright. Never thought Sylar would be saving me from what looked like certain death."

The news has Ryans whole body going still, but the shock doesn't even register on his face. Blue eyes narrow at the woman, it's hard to figure out what is going on in his head. "Spektor's wife was detained… I couldn't get to her." Is finally said softly, the old man looking away as the ship works it's way out of the harbor.

He moves to rest hands on the railing, forcing him to leans down to do so. "The paintings are safe, however. Though I had to kill some Russian authorities to do so." He regrets that, but… sometimes he has to do things he doesn't like. They all do.

There is a moment of silence as he watches the water before, move by the bow of the ship. "I want to know how they knew… They knew we would be there… what we'd be after…" He trails off.

Lashirah picks up the pair of plates, tucking them and the rifle into a borrowed duffle bag. "It would be nice, yes, to know how they found out." She leans against the railing a moment.

"Eldridge might have gotten a good look at me. Depends on how badly the glass got him. Given he couldn't hit me with his handgun from a reasonable distance… low odds but…." She pauses then sighs. "Sylar and his friend took the other two. They gave me the plates. I didn't ask what happened to the rest. I don't want to know." She says that last with a strict calmness that she is forcing. "and yes. They knew when, they knew where." She pauses and looks over her shoulder. "And Rene can talk." she says in a hushed tone.

The comment about Rene gets a hint of a smile out of the agent. "He does talk… on occasion." Ryans finds her reaction, to the man's ability to talk, amusing. "Just have to catch him at the right time."

Straightening, Ryans' brows furrow after a moment of silence. "Sylar." It's said softly in an bland tone. "I'll… have to talk to Noah about that one. That doesn't seem like him." He glances back at Lee, a brow ticking upwards as he asks, "Do they have Bennet settled in?" Last he had seen of the former agent, he was in bad shape. "I'd like to check in on him."

Lashirah nods. "He's in … bad shape." She admits quietly. Then she pauses, and looks at her bag. "… Hmm. Hey, Ryans, Harper keeps a desk back in the fort, yes?" The mischevious quality to her tone is hard to miss.

There is a slow nod of his head, a hand lifting to grab his fedora as an offshore breeze threatens to tug it off his head. "Good. I should go see him." He looks back towards the ship, eyes thoughtful… and a touch pained. Ryans is worried.

The question, however, pulls his attention back to his agent brows lifting. "I… believe so. I imagine he has something there." Ryans can't see why not. Brows furrow a bit out of curiosity. "Why?"
Lashirah grins. "Oh, I think I might… arrange for a failure of video surveliance of the desk… and leave him a little present." Her smile might remind one of a Cheshire cat. "After all… wouldn't his eyes just bulge with a pair of numbers looking up at him from his desk drawer… and a typed note saying 'don't look behind you'"

First there is amusement on the old man's features, but then a touch of worry settles in. "Just… be careful." He feels the need to point out, with a small smile. "Who knows what kind of reaction the man might have seeing those." Ryans is more concerned about Lee, then seeing Harper's reaction.

Damn the whole Institute to hell for what they did. His hands curls into a tight fists, jaw clenching against the flash of anger. Swallowing, he says in a rough voice, "I think I'll go check on, Noah." He moves to turn back where he came from. "Get some rest, Lee… and enjoy the lull. Who knows what will happen next."

Lashirah nods. "… Don't forget to get some yourself." She leans against the rail. "As tomorrow is another day, and who knows what cards we'll be dealt."

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