Three Chinese Martinis


len_icon.gif tracy_icon.gif

Scene Title Three Chinese Martinis
Synopsis Tracy comes to Len for assistance, but isn't about to admit she's in way over her head.
Date July 11, 2009

A Chinese Restaurant

It's a dinky old chinese place, but not the first one they met at. It's down in Queens - someplace Tracy would never go. She switched cabs three times, changed trains twice while under ground, switching direction. She made the call from a pay phone - everything to suggest that she's either unraveling, or something's really the matter.

Agent Denton. He has no reason to help her, but she needs him to. She needs someone to. She needs this to go away. So now she's waiting, in the back booth, someplace very secluded with a martini and an empty glass. She's on her second at least.

Len, on the other hand, has no reason to think he might be followed, so he took a more direct route. He would never admit there was some curiosity to the call. And while he takes a more direct router, it's not a quicker router as she's already there, seated, and martini'd up when he walks into the place.

He slides into the seat across from her and folds his hands together on the table. "Your call seemed urgent." Why stop business on mere formality. Get to the chase and save everyone a little bit of misery.

There's too much misery for Tracy Strauss. She lifts a hand to cover a little swallow of martini when he arrives so suddenly. "Always a pleasure to see you too, Agent Dent. Yes, thank you, I'm fine. No, I don't need another drink." She goes through the formalities all on her own. She likes them, sometimes, or she likes them when they're convenient for her.

I know your operation is completely down, but do you have anyone in your arsenal that might be able to make a few men completely unawares of what's going on nearby them, without their being aware that they're being manipulated?" She has very specific orders. Tailor's orders.

He can't stop the amused grin that crosses his face as he leans back against his bench. He goes through his list of resources, agents, those available to him. "In order for me to make an appropriate assessment of what you need, I'm going to need for you to lay it all out for me. Why you need this, what exactly you want to occur, who and why." Len already motions for someone to come refill Tracy's martini. Of course, he adds a beer for himself.

Tracy does not look amused. Anything but. She looks deathly serious, and disheveled a bit - at least for her. Instead of being prestine, she's now only almost perfect. Such changes take a keen eye to notice.

"It's for me, I need to be in a room that may or may not have loud noises, while two men in the next room must remain totally unaware that anything is happening and that they are being manipulated. You do this, Agent Denton, and I can expedite a lot of thing for you. A new building, resources, every presidential pardon you could ever want."

Len considers for a moment, then asks, "Not specific enough. Look, in order for me to know exactly who I need to send, I need to know who the men are, what's going on in each room, if you want my resource in the same room as you, if you need them listening in to the neighboring room. I need more for this assignment. I prefer not to be blind."

Tracy bows her head. "The two men that need to be unawares are Secret Service officers, and that's all I can tell you. Your men will have to sign disclosure agreements about anything they might hear from the next room. What happens in the next room is my concern, not yours. It's a matter of national security." She takes her martini when it's brought, sipping easily. She's shaken.

When the drinks come, Len is listening to Tracy's explanation — or lack thereof. He takes the beer and takes a healthy swallow. "Actually, if you need my assistance from my agents, I want full disclosure. I'll sign whatever agreement you want me to sign, but I won't send someone in blind without knowing if I'm sending the right person, or if I'm putting them in a risky situation unknowingly."

He's not trying to take the hard road. When he explains his need to know, he's saying it with all seriousness. His voice lowers, "Look, I can tell something has you pretty rattled. You want my help, tell me what the hell is going on and I'll do what I can to help you."

Tracy shakes her head. She's not going to budge on this. "It's not my call." she explains, her voice a bit softer. "And to be perfectly honest, there's questions I don't have the answers to. What I do know is that I need help, and that without it, the greatest crime in the history of the United States will occur. Not to mention I'll most likely be killed. So, I'm asking for a favor, Agent Denton. I'm afraid I don't have time to do it any other way but this."

Len takes a moment to consider. He leans back against the booth with a heavy sigh. So much has already happened in the last month. He doesn't have a good feeling about this, but in the end, it's what he needs to do. "I have someone. I'll send him over to you. I've dealt with enough death, so if something happens to him, you get to be the one to tell his family. Understood?" Not that he won't do it, but perhaps having to be the one to potentially give the news will put a little caution into whatever Tracy is planning.

"I understand." Tracy says simply, curtly. She finishes her glass and moves to stand. "No later than tomorrow, I'll give you a call. The place will be my apartment, the timing is the only thing I'm not certain of. If you get a call from me but don't hear any talking…consider that an ideal time to send him over."

Nodding, Len doesn't stand, but watches as the woman slips from the booth. "Be safe out there, Ms. Strauss. If you find that you've bit off more than you can chew, you know where to find me." He grins at her.

Tracy glances back at him. She opens her mouth, almost to tell him…that she's in over her head now. But she won't. She won't admit that, not even to herself. With a nod, she turns to go

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