Thread: Caught Between [LeatrixSage x Mr Quixotic]

Cole stood rooted to the spot, eyes widening in surprise as the woman continued and he realised, at least partly, what had happened to her and where she was. Then, he laughed aloud. That she'd been careless enough to have failed a job, let alone to subsequently allow herself to be apprehended, didn't sound like the Valentina Ricci he knew. However, she had, and now apparently relied on a false identity to hold up until a Knight in Shining Armour came to her rescue. It was delicious, but before he could open his mouth to taunt her further by asking if she'd called for the name of a good lawyer, Valentina demonstrated that she'd at least retained some of her intelligence and cunning. There was nothing but a dial-tone on the other end. Shit. Swearing in frustration, Cole hit the end call button and ran the conversation through his head as he moved towards the waiting Murphy, who'd entered his car and fired up the ignition. Two hours, she'd said, until she hit general population. He glanced at his watch. Despite being fully cognisant of what Curic was capable of and that the screws at Manhattan detention were more bent than the inmates, Cole surmised the danger wasn't quite that immediate. The authorities were likely running 'Alayna's' fingerprints through the AFIS database, and it'd take a while to return a match. Hours for that information to make its way inside and more would pass before Curic was notified. After he'd authorised reprisals or a hit, if he did, confirmation would need to be relayed back to those who'd carry out his orders. He should stop for a nice dinner, then head home to sleep and leave her to sweat it out overnight. Maybe she'd be more forthcoming and agreeable when they met. Then again, once Valentina was processed and identified for who she was, attempting to gain access to her in lock-down would be a time-consuming bitch of red tape. Old flame. He shrugged in response to his partner's quizzical expression when he entered his vehicle. Drop me at the bureau. His nerves still on edge, a mixture of adrenaline and uncertainty, Whittaker settled back in the passenger seat and gazed contemplatively out the window as Rod drove. She'd thrown out the only bait that could have tempted him, but why should he help save her skin? Why not just ignore her plea, leave her to reap the consequences of what she'd sown, and continue to pursue Curic on his own? Because he'd already tried and failed at that, and this could be his only realistic change. Out of the two, he'd prefer it be Valentina who remained free to walk the streets and considering her dire predicament, he'd hold the upper hand in any negotiations. No matter how much of a metaphorical hard-on he possessed for Curic. Following a number of phone calls, he made it twenty minutes before the two hours was up. How can I be of assistance, Marshal. The condescending emphasis the Desk Sergeant placed on the last two words had immediately told that he wasn't overly impressed with Cole's credentials. Alayna Taylor. Whittaker repeated it for a third time, increasingly certain he'd been heard the first two. Who? He cupped his ear. Alayna fucking Taylor. A smirk curled up on the other man's lips. Ah, Alayna fucking Taylor, it is. I'll check if we have anyone by that name. Cole almost jumped the desk and throttled the bastard. It took the officer an inordinately long time to scroll his finger down the list on the computer screen, and lift his gaze back to Cole. I'm sorry, she's indisposed, if you'd take a seat over there. He pointed to a row of uncomfortable plastic benches on the other side of the room. That was it. What the fuck? Listen, you measly prick. Whittaker gripped him by the lapel and lifted the desk sergeant off his feet and across to Cole's side of the counter, his intense blue eyes boring into the other man's fearful green ones. I don't give a shit if she's in the middle of a conversation with the Queen of England. Alayna Taylor is a witness in a Federal Investigation and I want to see her now. Got it? The other man gulped, and smoothed out the creases in his white shirt when he landed back on his feet on the right side of the desk. Yes Sir. All cockiness had departed his demeanour. Good, Interview Room One. Cole had attended the facility many a time and when he glanced up at the second level, he'd noticed the open door. Bring coffee. Having presumed the room vacant, which proved to be correct, he didn't look back to see the scowl return on the man's face as he ascended the stairs, entered and made himself at home behind the desk, his back to the wall. A pot of freshly brewed coffee and a half-full box of Krispy Kreme's arrived in short order.