you'll never catch me krabs (caught in the rain)

[iamthelordthygod]

Caught in the rain

It started out quietly, and then, quite suddenly, you're caught in a storm. Time to find cover. Nothing much to do but to wait it out.

Scenarios listed below for those who want 'em.


i WHERE:
001 PLAYGROUND - Well, you can try to hide under the slide or maybe in the jungle gym... at least you're some place fun?
002 PARK - Always happens, caught outside trying to take advantage of the weather... and it ends up pulling a fast one on you.
003 STORE FRONT - Better hope they have an awning you can take advantage of.
004 THE BEACH - Not exactly the best place to be during a rainstorm, however it is possible to get caught in a sudden storm.
005 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.


ii HOW:
001 TREE - Not the best cover, but it'll have to do, stay close to the roots and you won't get too wet.
002 UMBRELLA - Most conventional... Kinda boring. But it works.
003 NEWSPAPER - Not permanent, but it'll have to do. Good luck.
004 BAG - Well... y'gotta do what you gotta do.
005 NONE - You know what. You're a rebel. You don't need cover. Screw convention.
006 WILD CARD - that's the way you need it.


iii WHY:
001 REJECTED - Welp. Rejection sucks. And no one will see you crying in the rain.
002 WAITING - For the bus? For someone else? For some revelation? What are you waiting for.
003 MELANCHOLY - Sometimes the best place to feel a bit down is out in the rain.
004 HAPPINESS - Is everything going your way? Are you singing a refrain while walking down the lane? Just singing. Singin' in the rain.
005 ANGER - WELL YOU KNOW WHAT. SCREW YOU TOO, RAIN.
006 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.



>> POST with your character
>> TAG others, use RNG if you need to, or just make up your own scenario if you want!
>> HAVE FUN.

Comments

[throughthewalls]

[Winter inside the 495 is always the same. Hardly any tourists - nobody likes coming when it's cold - and mid-level bureaucrats hustling off to their offices just off the National Mall, heads bowed and umbrellas out amidst the rain.

Nobody pays any attention to the man in a raincoat and glasses going the opposite way from most of them. He takes his time with each step, listening to the patter of rain atop his umbrella as he takes in the sights. The Washinton Monument, the Reflecting Pool, the Memorial Wall - it's not the best day for sightseeing, but the most anybody gives him is a glance at a walking pace before they go back to their own little mental world, wishing for the sun to come out again.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch. Thin bookkeeper's lips purse together. It's time.]

Excuse me-

[He comes at Maria from her 10 o'clock, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.]

-what's the best way to Reston?

[It's the first part of their "parole" exchange. METRANO has seen her face half a dozen times, enough for the two of them to know each other by sight, but protocol is protocol. Doubly so when it's just the two of them.]

[nondeclared]

[Winter in DC is a harsh thing. The tourists mostly stay away, dreaming of spring and cherry blossoms along the Mall. The bureaucrats and politicians and locals turn their collars up against the wind and dream of warmer temperatures. Rain only makes the dreariness that much deeper.]

[No one pays the redheaded woman standing along the Reflecting Pool much mind. Her umbrella is angled perfectly against the rain and wind. A few particularly determined tourists hurry past her in the drizzle without sparing a second glance. The collar of her coat is turned up against the wind. A few raindrops speckle the brown satchel slung across her shoulder.]

[Maria turns her head slightly when METRANO taps her on the shoulder. The side of her mouth twitches.]

The Dulles Toll Road, if you can afford it.

[The same call-and-response as always. They know each other by sight. It's paranoia that makes the charade required even now. Their line of work is a dangerous one. Protocol dictates that business never be conducted openly. Subtlety and discretion are the watchwords of the day. (Maria Redekker has never held much love in her heart for protocol.) Silence falls. The only sound is that of rain pattering on their umbrellas.]

[A pause. Then she smiles.]

[throughthewalls]

[It's a smile Metrano allows himself to partake in. There's not much to smile about, these days - not with the way the world is turning. You need to take your victories where you can find them.]

I'll just take the Red Line, instead.

[He inclines his head ever-so-slightly in a "follow-me" gesture as he walks along the Reflecting Pool. His surveillance detection run turned up nothing, but he still scans the crowd for people he's seen before.]

We had a walk-in come to us last night. [He maneuvers them away from the crowds, away from the Metro foot traffic.] He talks the talk and walks the walk, but he could be a dangle.

[He glances at her over the tips of his glasses as they walk towards the Lincoln Memorial.] I need you to run him for me. See if he's legit.

[nondeclared]

[Maria's eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline.]

A walk-in? You know as well as I do how reliable those are. [She matches Metrano step for step, falling into lockstep with him as they steer away from the Metro.]

Not the first possible dangle I have ever had to deal with. [The smile that flashes across her face is far less pleasant than the one she wore earlier.] If this turns out to be legit, do you want me to read him in, or should I save you the honor?

[The unspoken question hangs in the air: what happens if he's not legitimate?]

[The rain lessens enough so that the umbrellas are unnecessary. Maria shuts her, shaking the rain from it with the practiced ease of a Beltway native.]

[throughthewalls]

[Metrano thought he'd thought this over - you can see it in the way his brows furrow and his lips purse. Perhaps he's reconsidering.

Then he shakes his head.] No reading him in, period. He came in through a front, and as far as he knows, we don't exist. Let's keep it that way.

[As he folds up his umbrella, he fakes a smoker's phlegmy cough into the crook of his elbow. It's a trick, meant to conceal the sleight of hand with which he palms Maria a flash drive.]

I can't say more than I already have. The drive will have more.

[His breath fogs in the air as he walks alongside Maria.] I don't want him in harm's way. Develop and cultivate him as a source. If he is who he says he is, he's more good to us alive than dead. That said- [here, he looks off towards the Korean War Memorial] -if he makes himself a liability - treat him like one.

[The orders are vague on purpose - giving him operational deniability and Maria operational freedom.

He stops and turns to face Maria, hands in his pockets. T-Cell is not the first team he's had to run. There have been others. From the look on his face, they ran into bad luck.]

I don't want you bringing any of the others in on this. [No Tygan, no Tristan. No Trenton.] More people involved means more points of failure. Just you and him. Got it?

[nondeclared]

[The order is an unusual one. T-Cell, by and large, are a package deal. Rarely does one of them go out into the field without the others close behind. Even Trenton, on the rare occasions that Project TRANSPONDER drags him away, is never too far away from the others.]

[Maria sucks air through her teeth for a moment in thought. Switching her umbrella to her other hand is cover for snatching the flash drive from Metrano.]

And who, pray tell, is he claiming to be? [Her breath puffs out in a cloud as they walk.]

[The Lincoln Memorial stands vigil under gloomy January skies as they stop. Days like this, it feels as though the sun will never shine again. Spring, and the promise of clear days, feel like a lie. It's spy weather. Better that the things Maria and Metrano do never see the light of day. Theirs is a life spent in the shadows. They were never meant for the sun.]

[The only hope is that whatever befell Metrano's old teams doesn't befall T-Cell as well.]

You chose the right woman for the job, sir. [Maria's eyes are dark as she turns to Metrano. Her shoulders are back, chin lifted proudly. It's an echo of the bright young recruit she once was, long ago, back when the CIA first scouted her. Before the Program found her.]

[Before a lot of things.]

[throughthewalls]

[Something flashes in Metrano's eyes - and just as quickly, it's gone. He can't afford to let the source slip here - they're too exposed, out in the open. This is a good place for a startup meet, but it's hardly a SCIF.]

Someone we can't afford to have fall into the wrong hands.

[He tucks his hand back into his coat pocket, palms the concealed Glock 26 he's got tucked into an IWB holster. Just to make sure it hasn't shifted.]

He has a burner. Its number is on the drive. He's expecting your call tonight.

[He nods, rain dripping off his glasses frames.] Good luck, Thompson.

[nondeclared]

[Hours later, the storm has resumed. Thunder roars outside as rain lashes the windows in sheets. McLean is not spared from the storm hanging over the Beltway. Smart people remain indoors as the weather turns. The CIA keeps going. Life remains as it always does.]

[Maria, in her apartment, watches the rain drenching her patio. The lights below shine through the darkness, a beacon of hope in bad times. She sips her glass of scotch and contemplates the flashdrive on her coffee table. Walking in and offering to work as a source of information is so rare now, and almost all of those doing so are would-be moles in the making. What Metrano has given her could be another trap. Another black eye in the Company's long history of black eyes.]

[Or it could be genuine.]

[She takes a breath. Downs the remainder of her scotch without even a flicker of hesitation. It's a moment with her laptop to extract the phone number from the drive. It's a moment more to dial it.]

[She pauses for just a moment before her finger hits the "Dial" button.]

[Too late to turn back now.]

[throughthewalls]

[The line rings once. (Rain patters on her patio window, painting the streetlights down below like yellow teardrops.)

Twice. (Not a half-inch of glass separates the nice and tidy apartment from the winter storm outside; put a fist through it and it could all flood-)

Halfway through the third ring, the line clicks open.]

Yes? Hello? Are you-?

[The words, spoken with a vaguely Francophonic lilt, stop just as abruptly as they started.]

I am sure you obtained this number through legitimate means. Still, I must have some way of being certain.

[nondeclared]

[One ring. (The storm rages overhead, thunder and lighting now almost at the exact same moment.)]

[Two rings. (Lights gutter in the distance as the power grid stumbles.)]

[Three-]

[Maria says nothing for a moment, letting the silence stretch like tree sap. Then she smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes but it leaks into her voice. Best to put the source at ease. Best to make him feel as though she’s on his side. He’s got good instincts; a little paranoia is downright healthy in this line of work.]

Of course. I believe you were waiting for my call, if our mutual acquaintance is to be believed. Call me Thompson.

[Just one of a long line of names. She’s gotten good at lying to the world. At lying to herself.]

Are you well? This storm has been causing havoc. [Small talk, to put the asset at ease.]