Participants:
| Scene Title | Long-Distance Pillow Talk |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It's not a good conversation unless Gabe's hairy Irish balls come into it. |
| Date | Dec 29, 2009 |
Via phone from USS George Washington to New York City
The fantail of an aircraft carrier is the last place Elisabeth Harrison thought she'd be calling Gabe MacNamara from. But you know… life throws you curves a lot. She hadn't planned on making this call at all — but things are starting to get dicey. And so she uses Felix Ivanov's satellite phone to call the cell phone number that she long ago memorized for Mack and waits for him to pick up as she leans on the rail of the hangar deck's observation bay.
The phone rings for a long time. So long, in fact, that its a scant milisecond from dramatically ending its ringing process with an arduous trip to the voicemail. But it doesn't make it. Instead, the phone clicks on accompanied by the sound of a passing train; its a few more moments before the quiet din of a crowded room villed with softly murmuring voices is overlaid by Mack's voice. "Who is this. Go." He speaks quietly, his tone quiet if efficient, suddenly possessed of an underlying harshness if sounding blissfully clear of the effects of recent whiskey.
"Mack…. Gabe, it's Liz. Sorry for the unfamiliar number," she tells him. "Damn, I'm glad you picked up, man." It occurs to her at this moment that she doesn't even know what Mack knows about what's going on. Oh, this could get amusing.
"Stick with Gabe and I'll forgive you." Still harsh, but amused. There's the sound of Mack speaking to someone else; possibly ordering a beer. "Here and I thought you fuckers were all dead. What the fuck is that racket?"
There's a soft chuckle. "Uhm…. ocean. I'm on an aircraft carrier at sea," Elisabeth replies. "I can't really tell you much, but… I wanted to check in and let you know that as far as I know, we're all still in one piece. There's an extraction team going in after Claire and her team in the next day or so. And so far as I know right now, Cardinal's team should be extracting at around the same time from their location." God willing. "I don't suppose you've heard from either of them?"
"Not a fucking peep." There's a quiet sipping sound, Mack thanking someone, and then the phone is back to his ear. "But I was kinda… indisposed for a while. I'm way out the loop, and, well… fuck. Nevermind that. Is that a jet?" There's a pause. "Nevermind that. Extraction team? You got some 'splaining to do, Lucy. I helped make SCOUT, I know what kind of ops they don't do."
"Indisposed? Not sure what that means," Elisabeth admits. "Yeah, it's a jet." She mutes the sounds carrying through as the crescendo of jet turbines going off a catapult threaten to deafen her. "Cardinal has been tracking information on a nuke, babe. A bunch of us got roped in by the US government to go off and try to save the fuckin' world from the Vanguard again. Card's somewhere in South America, Claire's in Africa. And I was kidnapped off to fuckin' RUSSIA in the middle of winter. But we think we have all the intel needed to actually locate the nuke now." She grimaces. "We hope. Assuming all of our teams make it out of Vanguard strongholds with themselves and their intel intact." She hesitates. "If you hear from either of them, you can give them the number I called you from, okay? It's not a fully secure phone, but it's a personal satellite phone belonging to Ivanov. It'll at least let us know they're okay."
"What the fuck do you mean, Ivanov? Like, Felix? Like, dead guy federali?" Mack seems to be always a step behind in the intel game, even though that is auspiciously his specialty. Detective, my ass. "Anyway, nevermind that. His phone might be semi-secure, but my cell phone sure as fuck ain't. We can pillow talk when you're back and not rotting in a Gulag. Russian, or American. Whats going on, whatchyu need, mija? I'm guessing you didn't call just to say 'hi honey'."
It's one of the things she appreciates most about him — his ability to cut the bullshit. Elisabeth laughs. "Pillow talk would be a nice change with you!" she quips mildly. "Actually, what I called for was the hope you'd heard from one of the two of them. And to ask you to keep an eye out on Abigail. She just got sent home from here."
"I.. uhh. This ain't the place to go into details, but I haven't been 'round the library lately. I fucked up, Liz. Y'all left me here watching the kids-" Okay, maybe Cardinal didn't ask him to do anything of the sort. Maybe he even put someone else in charge. But things like that never mattered to Mack, and they apparently still don't. "-and I think I left 'em to burn the house down. But if I can find her, I'll keep an eye on her. Maybe I'll put the pieces back together before you guys get back."
Now there's worry in Elisabeth's tone. "What happened, Gabe?" she asks quietly, intently. "Are you okay?" Because that's the first thing. And in terms of 'looking out for the kids', Elisabeth's pretty sure most of them can take care of themselves pretty well, even if the library's compromised. Although…. if that's the case, all the intel Richard had holed up there needs to get burned.
"An old friend stopped by. Insisted I head back to their place. Were pretty adamant about it, really. Its a long story, Liz. A real fucking long story."
"But you're… all right?" Elisabeth doesn't sound so certain of that, based on what little he's willing to say.
"I respect you too much to lie, Liz, so no, I'm not alright. I'm a long way off from it. But there's nothing to be done for it for now, so we're not going to talk about it while you're off running around the world trying to save it. Talk about it, think about it- we're going to pretend I said 'yes' until everybody's safe."
"Fair enough, babe," Liz replies quietly. "Fair enough." She sighs heavily. "I don't know when the rest of us are getting back. Keep the home fires burning, though — Guess if the fuckin' world doesn't end, you'll know we stopped it, yeah?"
Mack laughs. An odd thing to laugh about, really. "I don't know. I survived one nuke. Maybe I'd survive another. I'm a cockroach, mija. And viva la cucaracha. Stay safe, ok? And don't fuck up."
"Gabe…" She falls silent on her end, nibbling her lip. 'Don't fuck up.' She smiles a bit — she remembers he used to tell her that a lot, even as a rookie. "Take care of yourself. You can fill me in when I get back — I expect all the gory details over beer. Assuming they don't chuck my ass in jail." Which is still not a given. Especially if Kershner finds out that Liz made this call.
"They can suck my hairy Irish balls. One thing I can tell you is if someone is dumb enough to throw you in jail they'll find themselves an unmarked grave and you'll find yourself a free woman. I promise you that. Now go get some rest, fuck a military man, get loaded, whatever it is you guys can do to get some R&R. Then get home safe and sound. Bye, Liz."
There's a spate of laughter from Liz even as the word balls clears his lips. The rest of his commentary makes her close her eyes. What the hell she did to deserve friends like the ones she's got Elisabeth is quite sure she has no idea. But she's eternally grateful. Looking out over the water, she merely says, "See you soon, handsome," and hangs up the phone.