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On Route To Edison Training Facility June 17, 2008, 1139 hours It was a nice sensation, feeling the wind in his hair. Some things just felt good, and this was one of them. Usually it would have meant he was doing something dangerous, such as parachuting or some such thing, but this time there was no danger. Well, he thought as he turned his head to look at Paige, maybe there is a danger. After all, she was driving with a cast on, and it didn't seem to be as easy as it would have normally been. Also, and this really worried him, they were driving at speed on the wrong side of the road. Back home (England, not Russia) he had grown up driving on the left, and that was how it was meant to be. Russia had been� well, an experience, he allowed, and he still occasionally found himself wanting go the wrong way round at a roundabout. But this� this was scary, not least because he was in a car hurtling at speed, on the wrong side of the road, without a roof for protection, and he wasn't in control of the car. He grinned at that. Despite having closed his eyes on a few occasions he was still enjoying himself. It was so good just being out of that meeting, and he felt he needed to relax after what had happened while Paige had headed off to retrieve something from the locker rooms. His fears had come to light. She hadn't been scared of him, but he had been scared of her. Scared of how she would react when she realised who he was, scared at what she would say, and scared at how she would think of him. Seeing her had caused him to stop walking. He had realised that, despite thinking about it, he really hadn't prepared himself for the situation. She had stopped too. They had looked at each other, and there had been recognition in her eyes. "Well I see you made it to American shores. Welcome to�their country," she had said with a smile. He hadn't been sure whether it was genuine or nervous. Not knowing what to do he smiled back. "How are you Bella?" He hadn't been sure if that was really her name, remembering how he himself hadn't told her his name, just his call sign. "It's really Bella." "You look well." And she did, especially considering how she had been when he'd handed her over to Trouble/Paige. "Thanks, you do, too," had been the reply. He had felt the need to explain to her, to try and make her understand that what he had done had not been out of choice, and that he wasn't a bad person. "I'd like to formally apologize for�" he had started to say before she'd stopped him. "No bother, I know all about following orders.". That made him feel slightly better, but not much. "So, what exactly are you doing here?" "Well, hanging and banging with Paige. I'm not quite sure what that is but I'm guessing it's fun." "Most things with Paige are fun, not all of them, but most." He hadn't known how insightful his reply would turn out to be. "I'm beginning to understand that." "Uh huh," a smile, "and why are you really here?" "Oh, that." He had returned her smile, "we got caught in some dreary as all hell meetings, work, boring really. We, being Paige and I, which is why we're off to hang and bang." He had known how that would sound, and the response had been the correct one. It had made him feel a little more comfortable with the situation. Still, he proceeded with it. "That didn't come out right. I meant�" "Yeah, I know. And where is Paige now?" Bella had asked. "Locker rooms, wherever they are. She had to get something�or something." "Well, it was good seeing you again, Ruzhy�, but I have a meeting of my own to attend to." He had said goodbye, and that was it. She had walked off leaving him feeling confused inside. Even now he still didn't know where he stood. The guilt hadn't been completely removed yet, and it was something that he would have to work on. Feeling the wind on his face he wondered whether or not he should ask Paige about it. It was an option. He could mull it over while he had his swim. He hoped that the pool was adequate to his needs, and he reasoned it would be. This organization seemed to have some serious backing, probably a lot more than the RGZS had. It also appeared to have a lot more strings attached to it, and he wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. More strings meant more support, but also more bureaucracy, something he loathed. The RGZS had but one string, Ilya Stepanovich Georgiev, and to him that was still too much. If they were meant to deal with situations that simply could not be sanctioned by any government organ then they needed to be independent. He wondered how the Americans coped with it. Maybe that was another thing he could ask his companion. Return |
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