at her words, eight’s lips quirk into his cup, out of sight - he may be legally dead but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely devoid of all humour. something has to keep the negative thoughts at bay. the expression is swept away, however, at her alert. I SEE SUMNER. calmly, he stands and approaches the nearby bin, discarding his coffee. to the naive eye he’s casual and relaxed but his mind is scanning his environment, noting exits and escapes and every face that passes by. this is a man who once had the task of identifying those whom wore explosive vests beneath their clothes - of whether to take the shot or not. his senses are heightened, he’s aware of every single detail.
“ eyes on, then, ” he grunts, strolling his way back towards the entrance, rounding the corner. inside lies his toolbox, where his chosen weapons are stashed beneath a pile of tools. his earlier body search revealed nothing, because despite their crispy clean protocol, they appear to be the type of men who don’t look hard enough for what they’re actually seeking.
the targets are in sight, as is two in his peripheral. “ no contact for a minute, ” he utters, removing the tech from his ear and tucking it out of sight and touch beneath the collar of his top. “ am I uh - good t’ come back in, gentleman ? or d’ you need to search me again ? ” eight asks, innocently eyeing the two men at the door. one steps forward and begins patting him down for a second time. he bites his tongue and waits for them to finish, nodding as they step aside and let him through.
eight makes his way in, keeping a safe distance as he puts his earpiece back. “ I’m in. d’ you need me to distract ‘em or a’ you good ? ” in the back of his mind, he’s praying she doesn’t go a step too far and draw a crowd in the process of slipping by the guards.
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 two was used to doing alone. in her days with the c.i.a., there were rarely extra bodies to look after. perhaps they understood she worked best alone. it wouldn’t surprise anyone who knew her to learn that somewhere in her file was a note scrawled by a former boss: does not work well with others. still, one insisted this be a job for the both of them.
slate hues do not leave their target, always keeping them at least in the corners of her vision. eight had his sights on them, but she needed to be SHARP. there’s radio silence from her end for a while, even as he asks if she needs a distraction. she almost scoffs at the idea, but features remain placid. she’s still surveying, still examining each person in the crowd. something felt off, like this was far too easy. but, there was no use in turning back now.
❛ i’m fine, ❜ voice finally breaks through. a hand runs through her hair before it drops to pick up the bag of camera equipment set down by her feet. she all but saunters up to the two men, a smile beaming on rose painted lips. a breath is taken in before lips part to speak, ensuring to lay her accent on extra heavy. ❛ bonjour — erm i need to speak with monsieur sumner. ❜ she doesn’t offer any additional information, knowing all too well it would raise suspicions. the men glance her up and down and one leans to say something to the other in a foreign language.
there’s an exchange, a questioning of her presence that almost causes two to hold her breath as one says something over his radio. she’s almost ready to force her way in when a voice comes in through the radio in response and the man nods. as two steps forward, the other man holds out a hand, informing her she still needs to be searched. jaw clenches as her bag is set down and arms are held out. thankfully, he makes it quick and she’s given the green light to go inside. once a good distance away, she opens the comms line. ❛ sumner’s office should be upstairs. i’ll head up there, see if you can find a surveillance room. i’m seeing a lot of cameras. ❜
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
jbbartram-illu
annaxmalina
stormborns
