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 Track Ops: Reflection

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Iliana
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Tue Jan 08, 2013 4:53 pm

He felt absolutely pathetic there, waiting on the side of the bathroom door for her to come out...or to say something at least. One word would have been nice. It would have been more than enough! He needed some sort of stimulant from her to let him know that she was alright, because all of the silence was bringing out the worse in all of his male and op-like instincts. She was tearing through something in her head, something that could have been dangerously important to their current mission at hand. On the other hand, it could have been something personal and important to her, not just to him and what he was trying to do for the girls.

If it was the former, he could have easily soothed her worry. Marce was always good at keeping Alex and Bryson calm before important missions. Stories of wanting a family and wanting to see their own were the main reason they could not focus before missions and even drops from c-130s. Those could be the difference in life or death. Bryson was the worse one. Being in recon he always had to have his head clear and his eyes open for any danger or threat, but every time he got sentimental with stories of his family, the son he didn't have, and Alex (indirectly, of course) his focus could skew off his eyesight, which almost cost Marce a knee cap one day. Marce knew how to snap the focus back into both of them, and if Ace needed the snap too, he would be all too happy to give it to her.

If it was the latter, however, he had a problem. He knew as much about Ace's personal life as she let on, which was nothing at all. As a matter of fact, the only personal thing he knew about her was her face name, and she wasn't even revealing all of that either. He could only imagine what was going through her head at that time...what had made her zip away from him so fast at a time like that. Marce looked painfully stoic at the door, standing in silence. He wanted to say something...maybe comfort her with his words a little bit more. It was no longer about seeing if she was okay...now he just wanted to see her.

He got his wish when the door opened to reveal Ace, standing with a smile on her face as if nothing had just happened since they stepped aboard the plane. The casual look she wore threw him a bit off track, but the way her words came out, he knew she was barely fooling herself. There was no fooling Marce Jove.

"They're up because I need you to focus if you're gonna tell me what's wrong,"he said stiffly, hiding the fact that the mention of his pants up created the smallest of reds across the bridge of his nose. He had to get back on track. He had to return to Op Jove. Stepping out of the way to let her go where she pleased, he took a couple of steps toward the luggage they knocked over in their...scramble, picking them up and placing them back onto the vacant chair they sat on before. His eyes never left her, the way his op eyes always worked when they were trying to find out information.

"Is it about the girls or...something else?"he asked, trying to start off slow and not throw her back into a bad memory, if it were that at all.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Apr 27, 2013 7:14 pm

Well, that was interesting. Marce believed that she couldn't focus when his pants were down. Normally Ace would mock him for being such a cocky bastard, but he was right. It would have been impossible to come out of that bathroom and have a normal conversation if all she could see was how hard and lustful he was. Or was he anymore? Probably not. She had left him hanging pretty hard. The thought made her feel a bit guilty, but she soon forgot about that as she realized he was waiting for her to speak.

She looked up at him, taking a few steps out of the bathroom and watching as he re-stacked the toppled luggage. He was watching her too, and she locked eyes with him for a scant moment before looking away and heading back over to her seat.

How was she supposed to answer that? It was both.. Always both.

"Marce," she finally said, sitting down and crossing her legs. She looked up at him, her expression faintly pained. "There's something I should have told you before we left. Maybe now is the right time for that."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Apr 27, 2013 11:06 pm

"There's a lot of things you should have told me and haven't." He really had to stop doing that; cutting in to say something smart-ass like when she was ready to reveal something about her to him. If he kept acting like a jerk, what reason was there for her to tell him anything about her personal life or what was going on in her head? It would forever stay a memory, and that vacant place in his head where her words would be would forever remain just that: vacant. An empty void of nothing because of his curt attitude. Her folded both of his arms over his chest, trying not to appear hostile or impatient. He wanted her to feel comfortable while she told him...

...what?

What could she possibly have to tell him other than half of the world? Would this little piece of information be worth all of the times he was left in the abyss when it came to him? It had to be f some extreme importance if she should have told him before they even boarded the flight to Romania. Would it matter of she told him in the air versus telling him minutes prior when they were crossing the terminal?

She also never answered his question which only made way for more of the unknown. Well, Ace was back, if only on that aspect alone. Whatever had happened to her after their...entanglement, the gears in her head had to be slowly spinning in the right direction. Now? It was all about patience. Marce kept his cool blue eyes across hers, casually leaning against the outer wall while she sat without saying a word.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat Apr 27, 2013 11:56 pm

Ace flinched slightly, looking down at her hands. His remark, casual as it may have been, wounded her. She knew that he was right. She knew that she should be more open, that she should have told him everything from the beginning, that she should have just handed it all over in some nice, pretty package so that he could go play the hero on his own like he wanted. Of course she knew that. Was it her fault that she just didn't work that way?

Yes, it was.

It always was.

She swallowed and mentally slapped herself a few times. Stop acting like a fucking moron, Ace. This is Marce Jove. He's nothing but an op, and you are Reflection, damn it! Stop being all girly and shit and get your act together!

"Be that as it may.." she began, her voice a bit snappish as she raised her head to glare at him. She paused, then shook her head. "You know what? Forget it. Just nevermind," she muttered, buckling her seatbelt and crossing her arms as she focused on a random point on the opposite wall.

Why open up to him anyway?

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun Apr 28, 2013 1:10 am

And he blew it.

Marce literally blew a strong gust of wind out of his lips, a frustrated grunt following the whoossshhh sound soon afterwards like a tag along child. The frustration was directed at no one but himself. Stupid, stupid! He knew he shouldn't have said what he did, but it was already too late once the words left his mouth! He wasn't going to take back what he said because it was true, no matter how harsh it was, and he was never one for subtle apologies, so...that was that. It also helped that Ace had a granite of wall as her defenses and boldness that would not allow her to crack in front of him and spill the news anyway. He wasn't even going to hope for that matter.

So, once again, he blew his chances at getting close to Ace and the vacant area in his mind was going to remain just that. There was going to be that void where her story was going to be and if he wasn't shot in the next day or two, that emptiness was going to drive him mad. Insanity at the 'what if' was a poison, a parasite that needed a tender feeling as a host to latch onto and suck the life out of. The uncertainty in his head was good enough for any poison to mog up. It was his fault. He was pushing away the woman he wanted to know about.

"Like I can,"he breathed, raking his fingers through his black hair and spinning away from her, not wanting to see her not look at him. Getting the cold shoulder from cold, little Ace. When will her surprises ever end?

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun Apr 28, 2013 1:20 am

Ignoring Marce was only fun for a few moments. After that, it became a tiring game that just wore her down even more than she already was. Ace knew that the poor op viewed her as something powerful. Maybe she couldn't best him in physical strength, but she could give him a run for his money. What he was truly outdone in, however, was her mind. She was a fortress. Nothing he could do could change that, and he might as well abandon hope if he ever tried. It was laughable.

At least, she assumed he thought so.

Marce had no idea. Nobody did. Not even Arch knew just how deeply fucked up Ace had gotten. She could probably check herself in to the loony bin and live out her days bouncing from the rubber walls, chittering to herself about voices and screaming out names in her sleep. It was almost a pleasing fantasy at this point.

He was upset, she could see that. As he should be. She had shoved him away, yet again. What else was she supposed to do? Actually talk to him and show him a part of who she really was? Hell, maybe she'd even tell him her whole name! That'd be a hoot! But, no. She wouldn't. Would she ever? Probably not. She shouldn't even be here. Maybe good ol' Bob was right, and she should have stayed back while Marce did his thang. She sighed and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes in hopes of catching a nap before they landed.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun Apr 28, 2013 3:29 am

He was steel. She was iron. The two of them were going to be unmovable for quite some time.

Reluctantly having given up on at least trying to talk her through it, Marce forced his attention to the side window, seeing absolutely nothing but blue and the occasional transparent white from a passing cloud. The room was absolutely silent save for the obnoxious humming of the engines behind him, the whistling of air coming through some small gap on the plane, and the automated voice that warned about the turbulence. Silence had been lost to him for some time since he met Ace, suddenly unaware of who had been doing most of the talking: he or she? He figured it was she, for even though she didn't say much of extreme importance, she talked a lot of shit and nonsense, and talking was talking.

He never thought he'd miss her bitchy attitude.

Gaze locked on the window while he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, Marce was left in silence with his thoughts and his guilt. Not just the guilt of further upsetting Ace than he already had before. Guilt of things he had done and failed to do in the past. Guilt that he believed would be baggage on him in the future if he did not complete the current tasks handed to him on a silver platter by life himself. Regrets. Reluctance. Unwillingness to let go. All of the insecurities he should not have on his mind while he was on the job. But he was always on the job, wasn't he? In his house with his cameras? In his car with his police radio? On a random street with his cellphone in his pocket?

Even on the plane with Ace. Was Ace considered as 'part of his job'? When had she gone from being a hated and wanted criminal to a curious, familiar face next to his shoulder on a daily basis? Was it before or after he realized he lost his right sense of thought when around her?

The lump in his throat refused to go away. The hand on his throat, feeling the ball lodged in the middle did nothing to take away the sensation of drowning and guilt. Marce stood straight and still, eyes plastered to the glass.

"I'll go first,"he breathed. "You know how to play Tether Ball? Two teams. One on one side of the pole and another on the opposite. A person from one team hits the ball and a person on the other side has to hit it the opposite way. The team who got the ball to tie all the way around on the pole in their direction won. We played that game when I was in 5th grade. I thought I was too old for it, you know? Thought I could hit the shit out of that ball and snap the rope or something, but a couple friends were like 'Hey, come on Marce! We need a third!' So, I said fuck it, you know?"

"I was with Yovie and Brooklynn. Yovie was tall and skinny. Brooklynn was a girl and I was me, so I don't know. Fair team I think. Anyway, we played and we were doing good. Sometimes Yovie would hit it the wrong way and put their team at an advantage and I would yell 'What you doing, fool! Hit it the other way to gain the lead! Let's go!' I was like a cheerleader out there, man. We were getting far until Hector on the other side hit it way too hard and Brooklynn wasn't paying attention to the speed of it, I don't know. I mean, she saw the ball coming straight after her and just didn't do anything at all. Stood like an idiot and took it straight in the jaw."
His hand rubbed his own bristled jaw as if it pained him to remember her pain, even though there was a laughing smile on his face.

"I got so pissed haha...Hahaha, holy shit, I got so pissed, Ace. I went up to that mother fucking squirt and decked the shit out of him right in the jaw, right in the revenge. Brooklynn and Yovie and some other kid pulled me off of Hector, you know, after I bashed his face in with a rock. Got in trouble. Got suspended. Got expelled and moved to a different school on the other side of the city. I liked Macon. It was cool there, chill. That's where I met Bryson. That's where I saw Brooklynn again after like 11 years. She thanked me for smashing Hector's face in, 11 years after I did the shit for her. I don't know why, but I liked hearing that. I felt like I really did do something right, while the teachers and faculty used words like 'monstrous' and 'unstable'. Brooklynn didn't say any of that and so we went to a diner and had lunch."

"Later that night we had sex for the first time. It wasn't really good because I didn't even know what I was doing for half of the time because she kept telling to do all this crap to her. Slap her and yank her hair and throw her against the wall. I didn't get why a pretty girl wanted to be treated that way, so I just ate her out instead. She finished, I didn't, we slept."
He said all of this with a disgusted scowl on his lips, tenderly rubbing at his chin. "She didn't call me for a week, the next week she asked to go to the movies. I knew we were gonna screw afterwards, so I told her I was busy training with Bryce and Alex to try to get in the Bureau."

"Month later I read her obituary about her overdose on meth she got from her abusive, ex-con manslut Arby Cornwallis. Two weeks later, I got into the Bureau and moved into those apartments next to yours or whoever apartment you were staying in. 2 years later, I found my co-partner when Alex was away, Miley, took a bullet for a mistake I made by telling Bryson to flank left, thinking I could out rush the man on my right. I didn't know they had a gun because they were rushing me. They were rushing me and I didn't see the gun. Didn't know they had one. Didn't see it. Miley did and ran in front of the fire. She took three shots in the throat, one in left breast that passed through a major artery and out her back. She was alive when I caught her. She was dead when I said her name the second time."


The plane took a minor lurch down, making Marce blink and hold a white knuckled grip on the railing to his left. "7 months later, I got promoted to leader of my division. Bryson and Alex were assigned my recon and BBS, Backup Barrage Support. Got a medal, claps from old farts, Bob patting my back. 4 months later, I found the crate of burning dead women. I couldn't save them because they were already gone, Ace. They were gone." His voice shook with rage at the scene in his mind, the smell even recreating a decent image of the caged, charred remains...

"That next year, Kelly went missing. I was assigned to bring her home alive. I told Bob no. How many woman had died under my case? Not a little girl too. I had some bad mojo or something. Every one I ever cared for or had to save died. Kelly was supposed to be the next, but you know how that went. Because of you, she's alive. Now I have you to look after and you almost died three times already... And those 40 something girls...You and those 40 something girls are under my case..." The lump in his throat grew a size in a half during his speech, his azure eyes daring to shift to her shoes.

"Don't treat me like the bad one here. I know they die on me, Ace. I know you might too. But I'm tryin'. Cut me some slack, would ya...""he breathed, sounding pathetic and inhaling sharply at the last two words before he invited the silence back into the room.
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun Apr 28, 2013 1:28 pm

Ace listened in silence, not moving an inch or even blinking. She gave him no indication whatsoever that she was even paying attention to a single word that he said, but of course she was. No matter how good she was at ignoring a person or tuning them out, it was nearly impossible to do so on an airplane with nothing else to listen to and no headphones on. She did pick up on some things, though. When he mentioned Miley, she couldn't help but think of herself. Damn Marce, never paying attention to anything. Didn't notice the gun, didn't notice Palon's blade. Except she hadn't died like Miley - she had only gotten dangerously close.

And she still remembered the way Marce clung to her when she fell..

Damned idiot.

"If you think telling some sob story is going to get you anywhere.." she began, then she stopped. Why be mean? Might as well throw the begging dog a treat for telling her something. She actually hadn't known most of that, despite her digging in his past thoroughly before choosing to contact him as Reflection.

"My name.." she said, pausing and swallowing the urge to vomit. "My name is Heavenly Grace Kelly Linsington," she finally managed.

Oh, the horror..

If that didn't start him up cackling, she didn't know what would. Todd Linsington was a widely-known pastor on television, who was famous for giving rousing sermons that urged his followers to trust him and ignore all else. It was basically a cult, and they were sometimes known for being violent. Seemed like the perfect fit for her father, she thought with a scowl.

Worse, her parents couldn't agree on her name. Fuck..

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Mon Apr 29, 2013 1:00 am

"Pfft."

It was quick, sudden, and almost too silent for her to hear, but it was there. If he hadn't have slipped his palm over his lips, Ace would have continued talking like he hadn't made a sound. However, as his luck would have it, the chortle slipped from his retrained lips and his hand slipped over his mouth, blue eyes quickly slipping to another destination. Apart from the horrible irony of hearing her full, true name, something in his chest vanished, one less weight that held him down. Despite his restrained laughing, he understood the gravity of her words.

It meant that she was beginning to trust him and that was more than enough for all that he just revealed to her.

"Oh, that's all?"he said casually, waving his hand in the air like it was no big deal that her name was HEAVENLY GRACE KELLY. The next chortle was louder than the first, but what did she expect? It was the same thing as naming the devil Princess Peach instead of Satan. There was absolutely nothing that was 'heavenly' or 'graceful' about her whatsoever. Not an ounce of either one of the two! The Kelly part lifted one of his brows, wondering if little Kelly who was lying in the hospital was going to be anything like Ace. He hoped to hell not.

"Linsington, huh? I feel like I've heard that from somewhere,"he said, rubbing his chin and taking general care not to focus on the butt of his laughter. His voice returned to his control, nothing but an amused smile on play on his lips for the time being.

Hard to believe she did what she did to me with a name like that...
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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Tue Apr 30, 2013 8:22 am

Oh, that's all?

His casual words would have meant a lot more if he could restrain the giggles that kept escaping him. There was no hiding the amusement in his eyes, and Ace crossed her arms and glared at him as he coped with the fact that his temporary 'partner' had a name better suited for a cartoon character or something.

As if it were her fault! Her father had gotten all high and mighty when she was born, saying that Grace wasn't good enough - she would be called Heavenly Grace! After all, she was the daughter of the greatest minister of all time! However, her mother, as brainwashed as she was, still clung to one thing. She was a massive fan of Grace Kelly. And she somehow managed to convince her father that having all three names was a fabulous idea.

Damn woman.

"I'm sure you have," she said dryly. "Todd Linsington has a file a few inches thick with the government. That tends to happen when radical politicians and such end up mysteriously dead while a cult is rejoicing," she explained, shaking her head.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Tue Apr 30, 2013 10:59 pm

"Todd Linisington..."he repeated just as she said it, only catching bits and pieces of the explanation soon afterwards. The name sounded familiar on his tongue so she must have been right about him causing the BAD some problems. Crunching down thousands and thousands of names in his head, he finally found the memory he was searching for, now with a name to match it.

"Right, Linsington. That old ginger priest on channel 238? The one that always looks like he stabbed someone with a stake all in the Holy Name of the Above One? That Linsington?" He didn't wait for an answer, his jaw ajar when he saw the picture of Todd and Ace match in his head while he stared at her.

"My God, that is him..."he said. A lot of pieces of his internal puzzle clicked into place, and as amusing as her full name was to him, he was now more concerned on know more about her father. "Sorry to say this, Heavenly, but your Dad is kind of a big problem in our Bureau, which I bet you already know. Relax, I'm not going to interrogate you about his whereabouts. Just gotta know one thing." The plane took another uncomfortable lurch upwards.

"If your father really is Mr. Linsington...is that where you've gotten all this money for equipment, apartments, and clothes? From church charity?" Ace could not have been the type to do something so cruel especially after seeing how she reacted to innocent girls she didn't know from a hole in the ground. Still. Marce had to exercise caution. Who knew...Todd could have been using the 'Daddy's Precious Little Girl' scheme on her to get her to do his bidding. The thoughts would just have to wait until he knew for sure what was going on inside her head.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Tue Apr 30, 2013 11:13 pm

Ace smirked a little. An old argument settled. Years old, now, but she never was one to just let things go. When she was a young teen, she had tried over and over again to convince her father that the fact his cross was pointed made it look like a weapon. He informed her that nobody else saw it that way, then he scolded her for being belligerent and made her write lines until she was seeing double. Later he had said that it was a weapon, against chaos and the American government. She had been beyond listening at that point, but now she remembered.

Oh, Daddy Dearest, wouldn't you be so proud now? Your little angel, working with the government, mostly voluntarily.

She was about to point out that there was no need for an interrogation - after all, Todd Linsington loved to broadcast his personal address for his followers to send in their donations of love and financial support - but Marce asked his question first. She actually blinked and stared at him for a moment, but then she couldn't help it.

She started laughing.

"Church charity?!" she repeated, incredulous as she cackled. "If my father knew I was still alive, he'd make a point to mention me on his show as the one thing your child should not turn out to be! He wouldn't give me a penny if it would save my life!"

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Wed May 01, 2013 6:33 pm

If she wanted to humor him, she was free to do so when he folded his arms more tightly around his chest, lifting a single eyebrow as she laughed at him. It wasn't one of those little tiny 'oh no you didn't' laughing sprees. It was a genuine 'are you kidding me?' laugh. He failed to see what was so humorous about his question when it was very clear that he was serious about the answer. Ace may have thought the conversation of her father was righteous (no pun intended), but his hard glare was a reminder that it wasn't.

"I'll wait. We obviously have all day,"he bit. When she finally answered him, his expression of annoyance drew back into confusion. It was obvious that the two didn't have that Little House on the Prairie family relationship, but she made it seem as if her father had already damned her to the hells and back over the span of two decades. Interesting and definitely not the answer he was looking for. Even so, it was reliving to know.

"It was just a question,"he said and left it at that. Todd Linsington was not his concern at the current date and time. Neither was the girls, thanks to Ace, but he wasn't going to relay any of that. What he really wanted to do was to further question her on the reason that she ran in that bathroom. It didn't take much for him to realize that she purposefully changed the topic. Marce stared at her for some time, arms folded flatly over his chest. He looked at her eyes, waiting for something to happen...for something behind them to flash so he could see what she was thinking of...but nothing happened. She just sat there.

With a defeated sigh, he pasted a joking smile on his lips, traveling over to the door and turning it from 'OCCUPIED' to 'VACANT'. "So it's safe to assume that you're okay with me calling you Heavenly? Because I did a few seconds ago and I still have my nuts intact."



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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat May 04, 2013 8:18 am

He dropped it.

Did she actually just get Marce, the annoying little bulldog of persistence, to drop the subject and accept defeat?

She seriously deserved a medal. Why were there no witnesses around when she did something so amazing, but there were always people staring when she did something awful that made Marce angry at her? It simply wasn't fair!

Ace sighed inwardly and watched him go over to the door, her eyes flicking to the knob as he opened it up to visitors. That meant that question time was over and done with, which was good.. but it also meant playtime was over too. She didn't know how she felt about that one. Had their loss of control destroyed whatever plans he had for once they were sharing a room together? She wasn't sure. Sharing a bed with him was rather hard if he was going to insist on some no-touching rule.

Would he do that now?

Maybe. She never knew what he was plotting in that sexy head of his. Of course, he let her know bits and pieces - such as what his 'concern' was now, about her name. She awarded him a fierce glare and crossed her arms, her fingers dangling rather close to one of her guns that he had been caressing not that long ago.

"For now," she muttered. "Later they'll be squashed like grapes and you'll wake up wondering why you suddenly have the urge to go dress shopping and debate cosmetics brands," she added, smirking at him.

She looked away after that for about a minute, gazing out the window. Finally she turned back to him.

"Are we almost there?"

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun May 05, 2013 6:04 pm

"Romania from Georgia isn't a walk in the park. We'll be there in 4 hours so you can nap for now,"he commented while he strode over to the double seat/let-out-bed on the far right of the room. There was another one just like it a couple of feet away from the original for the same purpose. He requested to have two just in case Ace was a kicker when she slept on public transportation and gave him a kick in a wrong place at night, something he could not afford before a mission. He thought back on the smug smile Bob flashed him when he made his 2-bedder request.

"Girl likes to fight, doesn't she? She one of those fucking kick-you-on-the-couch girls, ain't she?" Marce, glaring towards his boss when he mentioned Ace in that manor, simply tightened his jaw and zipped up the large duffel bag hanging at the side of his desk.

"No, she's one of those fucking 'I'll-shoot-your-nuts-off-if-you-look-at-me-the-wrong-way kind of woman. So to speak." He left Bob slack jawed at his desk before walking out of the office. Marce finally managed to get the bed to let out after fumbling with a metallic cord somewhere under the right seat. He yanked it once and the seat gave way, a pressurized "sswww" sound blowing from a open port, and the seats folded backwards opposite itself. From double seats to a full sized bed. The sheets, cream colored and ironed with too much starch, were already made and folded into the bed. The covers, pillow, and pillow case where underneath the seat/bed and, once he bent down and thrust his arm under it, they were soon strewn on top of the bed.

"If you're awake at 11:30, let me know. We're supposed to be there at 12:35 to check in to the Chekus Hotel off of the first major road. From there, Bryce and Alex will check in. They'll be staying at the Yuinsten Hotel 4 blocks down from ours. They're the only people in the Bureau coming so don't panic,"he assured her, slipping himself into the bed while not bothering to push his large body under those flimsy sheets. Laying on his back with one arm lolling over his chest and the back of his other hand over his eyes, he let out a tiny sigh as he continued.

"This is only supposed to be a recon mission: Find what we know about Emily and go back to the hotel. If we know where she is, we're ordered by Public to call for back up and not to do anything until that back up arrives. The last thing we want is a mini war between USA and Italy in Romania. That means don't do anything drastic." He wanted to be able to add, "I shouldn't have to tell you this" but it never came out. Ace was going to do whatever she was going to do and he'd have to pay for her actions sooner or later.

Which is the main reason he brought her along with him. To keep an eye on her. That, and he couldn't help to shake the feeling that she really, really knew more about the Merenzo's and the girls than she was letting on. If that was the case, then whatever strange hold that woman had over his head and body on occasions would have to be put to the side in order to make room for the truth.

Those thoughts were his lullaby as he drifted off to sleep without waiting for a response.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun May 05, 2013 6:33 pm

Four hours wasn't such a long time.

Ace glanced at her watch when he mentioned the time, tugging out the little wheel and spinning it around to the proper Romania time. She had built herself digital watches over the years, but she had found that she simply preferred the old tick-tick-moving-sticks face instead. Once it was set, she crossed her arms again and flicked her gaze back to Marce.

Alex and Bryce. Great. She knew that Alex didn't like her. The woman had made that much clear before they boarded the plane. However, she had also made it crystal clear that she suspected something going on between Ace and Marce. That meant she wasn't an idiot, so Ace didn't really dislike her. An intelligent woman was a gift in this field.. but it was also drama that she did not need when she already had Marce on her plate. Maybe Bryce would be some comedic relief.

A recon mission?

She blinked and stared at him, but he wasn't paying attention. As usual.

Did Marce seriously think that she would go to Romania, get eyes on a girl who had been missing, and then leave? Sure, he didn't know everything about her, but she hadn't marked him down as a complete moron just yet. She assumed that since he told her, he knew that the 'supposed to be' was more of a 'supposed to but won't be'. At least, he better, or he was in for one nasty surprise when she defied his orders. Again. Likely not for the last time.

She waited until he was asleep, then drew one of her guns and got up, going over to the door. Casually flicking the knob back to 'occupied', she strolled over to her seat and ejected the clip. A moment later and she had pulled a small silver ball out of her gun casing. She slid the clip back in with a snap and put the gun away, the little ball in her palm.

Four hours wasn't such a long time at all.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun May 05, 2013 10:08 pm

He probably shouldn't have went to sleep first.

"Around! Go around! AROUND!" He wasn't sure if Bryson was hard of hearing or deliberately ignored his orders, because instead of going around the metallic crates wedged against the 52ft trucks, he went straight through a gap of two of them and right into oncoming enemy fire.

"What the fuck!?" Miley stole the words right out of his mouth while she quickly pelted down the two rounding Merenzo's in front of Bryson with her PP19 like she was gardening or doing something else of similar ease. Bryson, white faced and backing up closer to Marce, looked over to Miley and pointed his gun directly to the side of his head.

"Behind! 3 at 7 and 2 at 11! Hostiles armed!" Even seconds away from death and he hadn't missed a beat in his recon. Marce swiveled his body to face the called directions, ducking and crawling with his M4 held to chin level. He had eyes on the hostiles but a blur of movement caught his eye. Miley, already have taken down the 2 enemies tot he left of Bryson, was now gaining towards where he stood. She was boxing herself into the enemies and Bryson could only handle so many at a time.

POW! One down.

"What are you doing, Coolridge!? Fall back to perimeter!" A sharp blue glare met him in return, the blonde haired woman emptying her clip and reloading in 4 seconds flat to take out one of the Merenzo's to her 3.

"He's got it under control! You have 6 coming your way! I have the two to the rig--"

"Fall back to perimeter!"
he shouted again, gun snapping to the left.

POW! Two down.

"Marce, you got 3 headed to your 11!"

"I've got the one's at your 5!"

"Coolridge, goddammit, fall back to perimeter!"
The three Merenzo's headed to his 11 were rushing up to him, their hands at their sides to pump themselves to go faster. That was the reason their hands were there. To help them run faster. Marce, still crouched and holding an M4 with only 2 shots left, ran up to him in a diagonal, taking aim at the farthest Italian to his right. They were still rushing him even though he still had the gun in their hands. These were easy kills.

"Hostiles, Marce!"

"Marce!"

"ARMED HOSTILES! MARCE! ARMED HOSTILES! THEY'RE ARMED!"
He barely heard any of that across the sound of multiple gunshots fired in his direction. He only saw blonde hair painted in deep, crimson blood while bullet after bullet entered and exited the woman's body. Marce froze, gun at bay, hearing his name as a far off echo while Bryson took care of the men in front of him and to his 5. The trance ended when Miley's knees buckled, signaling her fall. He vaulted towards her, M4 strewn on the ground and a woman strewn in his hands!

"COOLRIDGE! MILEY! MILEY!!!" She was gone when he said her name the second time, her cyrstaline blue eyes glassed over, blood leaking out a hole in her throat. Marce stared incredulous down at her before he broke up and out of his dream, covered from head to toe with sweat. He fought a large inhale in the base of his throat, his eyes swimming left and right to gather some focus around the room.

"Please remain seated as the plane may experience a light turbulence."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun May 05, 2013 10:28 pm

"Activate."

A simple enough word, accompanied with the simple action of pressing her forefinger against the little ball as though pushing a button. It was quiet, innocent, a mere mumble that was lost in the faint roar of the engines and Marce's steady breathing that marked him as a sleeper.

However, Ace was not a simple kind of girl, no matter how hard she tried. The simple actions led to complicated results, involving the ball opening up and a holographic number pad appearing about an inch above her palm. She 'tapped' a sequence of numbers without stopping to think, to remember. She'd never have to do that.

620749315880

"Run, Ace!"

She shook her head a little, dismissing the memory. Another time, perhaps. The holographic image was changing, the number pad disappearing while a building appeared instead. She tapped it with her free hand, sending it into a slow spin before zooming in on a room with a bright spot in it. Before she could change the image again, Marce bolted upright and made her flinch, the little ball closing up tight and falling on the floor. It rolled away like a harmless silver marble.

"You okay?"

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Mon May 06, 2013 5:02 pm

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the room on the plane. Blinking only made the swimming images of blood and death in his head worse; closing his eyes would have just brought him directly back into the nightmare. Marce kept his blue eyes peeled open, staring at nothing until he could make out shapes and shadows and a metal something that belonged to the door. Slowly, things started to melt back into view and his breathing returned to its regular pace. He was not surprised to hear Ace, knowing that she was going to be awake while she slept. The woman never let her guard down for a mere moment.

"Yeah. Just hot." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either. His body was covered with perspiration, his chest heaving up and down as if he had just ran half a marathon. The palm of his hand slid under his neck and over his brow to clear himself from the damp tickle of sweat. Ace was sitting to his far right, looking over at him expressionless.

"Have you been watching me sleep this whole time?" That thought was scarier in his head than he supposed it sounded out loud. It had a tiny little ounce of sweetness to it, but awkwardness took the cake. He finally blinked his eyes, relieved that a snip it of his nightmare didn't meat him when he did.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Mon May 06, 2013 7:21 pm

Ace gave Marce a very serious look and nodded once, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time, as though studying him.

"Yes. Fascinating. You didn't react to the experiments as I had expected you to," she said, tilting her head a fraction as she stared at him for a few moments longer, deciding to let him sweat it out. After that, she smirked and looked away, shaking her head.

"No, Marce. I have better things to do with my time than watch you sleep, even when stuck on an airplane. Chill the fuck out and go back to sleep."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sat May 11, 2013 8:36 pm

"You always this cranky when you travel?" He muttered the question under his breath and didn't wait for a sarcastic response before he turned his body over on the cot. The dream had him still covered in a humid blanket, sweat running down his neck and the sides of his temple. He told himself to stop thinking about it. Do not go into that part of his brain that he thought he seared away with a flaming gun. It was the 'Do Not Enter' part of his mind and the the location and himself signed a treaty: If he didn't go trekking through the wilderness of his mind in search of a reason for the death count hovering over his head, the headache, pain, and anxiety would not attack him.

He broke that treaty and his punishment was well upon him. The turbulence was the the second her reason he could not go back to sleep. Every so often, the fans attached to the wings of the get would boost into a higher speed to make up for the incline or decline in air when the turbulence hit. It was the equivalent of a jerk, but his body was already in a intense stasis. Miley's name was amplified by 20 in his head, the sweat on his brow feeling much more like the blood caking his hand then perspiration. Ace's face was easily avoidable, the only good thing about his situation.

"What time is it?"he asked after taking a deep breath and making sure his voice was as stable as he could get it.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Sun May 12, 2013 9:50 pm

"Half past time for you to get a watch," she commented, then paused and glanced at her own. "A little past three in the morning, I think. The light in here is terrible."

Ace sighed softly and cast her eyes around for the fallen ball, but she didn't see it. There went her entertainment for the rest of the flight. Fortunately, they probably only had two or three hours left. That was going to seem like an eternity at this rate, with Marce acting like there were ghosts in his pants and the rest of the plane strangely quiet. This was definitely not the most thrilling flight of her life.

"And yes, I am. I don't like planes."

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Fri May 17, 2013 1:09 am

"Huh. Really,"he said at her comment about disliking planes. It brought a strange grin out of him, knowing that small piece of information. "That's odd. You can shoot 12 people in broad daylight, you can throw yourself in front of a stranger and take a knife for him, you can turn a guy on in the middle of a teenage retail store, but you don't like planes. Or swimming." It felt good to go back on the subject of her idiocy than to focus on real-world problems like dying children and angry flight attendants. This was the way he would have kept it if it were up to him: care free and laid back. Of course, the world was never like that, his world at least. There was death at every bus stop and an old lady with a .9 millimeter needing assistance crossing the street. He should be taking the plane ride as a mini vacation.

In just that short of a second, his bad mood depleted and he was beginning to breathe regularly again. The 'Do Not Enter' sign was once again on the closed gate of his mind and he settled on other thoughts instead. Rising himself from his sweat soaked cot, he straightened out his cotton tea and began to stride towards her, his jeans slightly pulled down to expose a small hint of his pelvis, a result of his tossing and turning. She made a very good point when pertaining to the lightening. The three-in-the-morning shadow was a black blanket inside the plane, save for a few dim lights bordered around the carpet. The clouds outside where either light lilac or a dark indigo, signaling for oncoming rain.

"Didn't peg you to be afraid of the dark. Unless it's because you're with me,"he teased, flashing his wide, white-toothed grin. Somewhere in the room, a vibrating buzzing hit the end of the desk. He took a quick glance and noticed his phone was knocked off of the chair that he and Ace bumped into during their...scuffle. Whoever it was will just have to accept the "no signal" excuse.

"I can ask if they have a night light. They've probably already called the cops on you to take you in as soon as your feet hit the port. Doubt they'd give it to you, but, who knows, I can pull some strings with the nightlight,"he added, holding back his grin of amusement.

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Fri May 17, 2013 8:21 am

Ace narrowed her eyes at him, glaring but saying nothing. Swimming was not exactly a fun sport with a bullet in your leg, especially when it was preceded by a lunatic of an op holding you over the edge of a boat just to get your first name. Normally she would enjoy swimming. Prick. She watched him get up and walk over to him, mentally weighing the pros and cons of kicking him in the sack when he got close enough. Right now it was about even, and she was definitely feeling as though the pros were the ones to listen to. It was about time he remembered who she was.

"Shut up," she said warningly, her eyes never leaving his as he ignored her and continued, speaking now about night lights. Oh, he was having fun, wasn't he? It was obvious, though he was wise enough not to outright grin at her anymore. Even in the dark, the laughter was written all over his face.

"Keep in mind that if cops take me anywhere, you lose a girl. All you know is that she's in Romania. Good luck finding her," she pointed out, crossing her arms and not bothering to address the issue of the night light.

It's not like he'd understand anyway.

"Why don't you sit down like a good boy and pretend you're doing something useful?"

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PostSubject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection   Mon May 27, 2013 5:29 pm

"If I weren't doing anything useful, I'd be home and you'd be dead or in jail. Next question?"

He didn't wait for the next question, regardless of if she gave him one or not. Her humor was all to her and he didn't care about a sliver of what she was thinking or feeling only because she wanted that way. If she closed herself off from him, he wouldnt need to know anything important, and if it wasn't important, he didn't care. Sniffing the air casually, Marce Jove continued to stroll the room in silence. The dark wasn't as bad as she made it out to be, but that was just him. Darkness was a gift, a privelage, a shroud over all of his guilt and responisibilties, something he didn't get very often. It was also a good way to go from one place to the other without getting caught.

The pilot had to have had his hands full up to his ears with the controls and the stealth he was putting on, becuse the BAD was sure the Merenzo's had some kind of radar lined up around the perimeters that were close to their 'camps' where they held the girls. Safety even in the highest places.

The phone buzzed again. He ignored it.

"I've been thinking about something and I hate it and you'll love it, but we need it." He paused, reminding himself that it wasn't what he really wanted, but Ace would just have to go with it. "If you're so hell bent on "helping" me find these girls, i'm not going to complain. I'm also not saying it'd be cake, that's why I kind of need your assistance in the matter." Marce took a deep breath and met her cold gaze, unphased in the least at the animosity that was practically steaming from her ears.

"I think we need Arch."
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