#· ⁰¹⁰⁰¹⁰¹⁰ ― ( 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 ‚ ❝ undecided.

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her  knuckles  wrap  gently  against  the  door,  the  one  she  was  told  was  assigned  to  captain  john  price.  there’s  a  nervousness coursing  through  her,  wishing  that  agent  laswell  hadn’t  left  her  to  her  own  devices,  that  the  woman  would  have  introduced  them  herself.  she  knows  kate has  more  important  things  to  do  than  help  curb  june’s  anxiety  at  meeting  new  people,  doesn’t really  make  her  wish  any  less. 

“  hello,  ”  she  does  her  best  to  smile,  hands  tucking  themselves  behind  her  back,  “  agent  laswell  sent  me?  said  there  was  a  laptop  that  needed  opened?  ” 

@brvo6 / x

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the  spin  of  the  chair  moves  from  side  to  side  as  she  swivels  in  it,  scrolling  through  the  data  in  front  of  her  with  her  chin  perched  in  her  hand,  glasses  on  the  edge  of  her  nose  as  she  reads. 

it’s  late  +  she’s  been  staring  at  the  same  information,  looking  for  inconsistency  in  the  shipping  manifest,  “  i  think  i’m  going  even  more  blind.  ”  she  sits  back  to  rub  at  her  eyes,  looking  at  trick  for  a  moment,   “  found  anything  on  your  end?  ”  

she’s  thinking  now is  a  good  time  for  a  snack  break,  or  a  nap,  but  if  he’s  found  something  it  gives  her  a  rabbit  to  chase,  +  her  favorite  thing  in  the  world  is  a  good  cyber  chase.   “  please  tell  you  did,  i’ll  make  you  cupcakes  or  banana  bread.  anything  you  want.  ”

@pseudowar / x

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a  hand  shields  her  eyes  from  the  sun  as  she  makes  her  way  to  the  outside  training  yard,  jock  right  on  her  heels.  this  isn’t  the  place  for  her,  not  really,  but  she  finds  herself  to  alone  in  her  office  +  the  idea  of  visiting  with  the  energetic  scot  is  one  she finds herself craving.  her  hand  raises  when  she  meets  the  scot’s  gaze,  waving  with  almost  too  much  enthusiasm  as  she  makes  her  way  over,   “  mind  if  i  hang  out  for  a  bit?  ”  she  represses  the  urge  to  go  on  about  how  stuffy  her  desk  is  feeling,  even  if  she  does,  more  often  than  not,  enjoy  the  solitude  her  screens  offer  her. 

@deadwar (soap) / x

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fingers  slide  over  keys,  the  sound  of  clicks  filling  an  otherwise  silent  room.  it’s  unnerving,  the  quiet,  usually  some  sort  of  soft  music  plays,  yet  when  someone  else  is  in  her  space,  she  finds  herself  nervous  to  play  anything.  perhaps  it’s  a  fear  of  judgment  based  on  what  she  listens  to.   oh boy, does she hate the silence.

“  you  know,  it’s  almost  impossible  to  completely  erase  anything  from  the  internet?   once  it’s  out  there,  anyone  could  have  access  to  it.  ”  rambling,  her  words  almost  come  out  too  quick,  rushed.   “  most  sites  have  a  server  in  some  warehouse  that they don't even really have access to.  you’d  need  direct  access  to  that  server  to  remove  anything  permanently,  from  the  site  that  is.  doesn’t  mean  it  isn’t  out  there  somewhere  in  the  vast  space  that  is  the  world  wide  web.  ” 

@pseudodead / x

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the  table  is  covered  in  pieces  of  one  specific  electronic  device,  one  whose  name  she’s  been  cursing  for  almost  a  full  week,  one  that  had  kept  making  an  irritating  ticking  noise.  perhaps  she’s  gone  just  a  little  mad  trying  to  fix  it,  trying  to  find  the  reason  behind  the  absurd  racket.  

a  frustrated  sigh  leaves  her,  finally  detaching  the  last  piece  from  its  home  component,  the  screwdriver  in  her  hand  is  held  almost  as  if  she’s  about  to  stab  someone  or  something  with  it.  

it's  only  a  matter  of  seconds  before  she’s  picking  up  a  piece  to  inspect  it  further,  hoping  there  is  some  reason  for  all  the  DAMN  noise.  this  is  after  all  the  second  time  she’s  taken  it  apart,  the  first  time  didn’t  fix  it.  she’ll  have  to  explore  more  thoroughly  this  time,  perhaps  take  apart  the  small  engine,  or  maybe  she  should  just  bash  the  thing  with  a  baseball  bat.  

“  now,  just  to  find  a  freaking  baseball  bat.  ”

@phasmasum / x

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fingers  move  quickly  over  keys,  code  filling  the  page  as  she  attempts  to  work.  it’s  several hours  of  getting long  distance  access,  not  her  favorite,  something  she's  deemed  less  exciting  than  getting  a  physical  device.  those  tend  to  give  more  of  a  challenge.  internet,  bluetooth,  +  general  sharing  between  people  make  getting  into  people’s  things  so  much  easier  now  then  it  did  ten  years  ago. 

one  would  be  surprised  how  often  bad  men  share  their  location,  like  idiots. 

eyes  glance  over  to  the  man  next  to  her  desk,  (the  one  with  4  different  monitors  +  her  bright  pink  keyboard),  fingers  finally stilling  as  she  turns  more  toward  him.    “  this  is  gonna  take  a  bit  if  you  want  to  find  something  to  do?    Not  that  you  have  to  leave,  per  say,  but  the  silence  is  kind  of—  KILLING  me.  ”

@furtivitee / x

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" aye aye! " she gives him a mock salute as fingers dance across the keys, teeth chewing into the side of her cheek. a thought passes her, what if one of them is russian? what if this man is expecting them to overlook any + made the elective decision to do it? perhaps she's overthinking just a bit. she decides if she does run into one with a slavic sounding name, she'll pin it. it might come in handy.

one company devolves into 12 different shell companies in only a matter of minutes before a brow raises + she's peeking at him through her first + second monitor, " entangled ? " brows crinkle, now curious about the captain.

"Yeah. Look for any being shell companies. Don't think Makarov's stupid enough to have a Russian company owning his property." No, Makarov was unfortunately clever. He'd been doing this for a while, from what Trick could tell, and he'd probably learned a few things from his predecessor, there was no way he was stupid enough to slap Russian company ownership of a few properties he was obviously doing illegal work on.

Her question, though, does make him pause, and he twirls his pen around his fingertips as he debates the merits of making a questionably racist joke about Slavic men to a co-worker - it wasn't worth it. "Ask Price, think he's entangled with one."

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the man before her is almost everything laswell described him to be: bearded, british, + with a COMMANDING PRESENCE. she's yet to see the other things the woman mentioned, but she's pretty sure she doesn't want too.

“ oh, i'm june king. don't know if kate gave you a name or not. ” a wince follows her words as she moves further into the office, of course laswell told him her name. she gives a small smile, adjusting the bag on her shoulder, hoping to cover the slight mistake her face decided to make, here's hoping he's not super observant. [ he's an operator, sort of his job to be, isn't it? ]

there's a small snort, “ well, considering where you found it? probably not some terrorist's grandma's cookie recipe. although nice, not expected. ” hands reach for the laptop after her bag is dropped to the floor, examining the outer casing, “ i assume it's already been scanned for incendiary devices or booby traps? because that's one incident i'd rather not repeat, if i'm honest. ”

there's a gentle knock at the door ⸻ faint enough it hardly tears his attention away from his paperwork. that being said, he'd received a call from kate earlier on that day, letting him know that their latest little piece of intel could be examined ... thanks to this young woman that could break the encryption key on it.

❛  aye, y'can come in.  ❜ price looks up from his files, tucking the sheets back into the manila folder, setting it to the side for the moment being. ❛  laswell did tell me 'bout you, said you could crack the code on it.  ❜ there's a pause, and he sits up in his chair. ❛  not sure what kind 'f things we're gonna find on there, if 'm honest. retrieved it from their hideout, 'n couldn't force the encryption key out of 'em.  ❜

he took the closed laptop off of the top of the cabinet behind him, sliding it over towards her.

[codebreak]

a  finger  taps  lightly  against  her  desk  as  she  listens  to  the  first  half  before  her  glasses  are  pushed  up  on  her  nose  +  she  gets  to  work.  the  speed  at  which  her  fingers  fly  over  keys  has  been  remarked  as  nauseating  from  almost  everyone  who’s  ever  seen  it.    

“  there  are  five  spikes  in  the  general  area,  one  i’m  pretty  sure  might  just  be  drugs.  ”  she’s  familiar  enough  with  the  power  generation  of  that  sort  of  operation;  powers  only  on  when  someone’s  getting  busy  mixing.   “  the  other  four?  it’s  not  possible  to  tell  without  more  information  to  go  off.   want  me  to  start  running  backgrounds  on  owners? companies?  ”  

her  fingers  are  five  seconds  away  from  hacking  camera  footage  on  all  the  gas  stations  in  the  area  before  they just hover over the keys,  “  how  does  one,  exactly,  look  russian?  ”   perhaps  he  knows  more,  she’s  never  actually  met  anyone  russian  in  person.  

Trick's good at this. He's better with following paper trails than he had ever been in the field - and it's a fucking shame it took until he got fucking maimed to figure it out. With a marker cap clamped between his teeth, and a highlighter being tapped along the margins of his printout, he is in his zone - and not even her prompting is going to ruin his concentration.

"Not yet. You run a scan on the power grid lately, see who is using a lot of it and where? They're trying to operate under the grid, sure, but they still need that grid to do half the illegal shit they're tryna do." Despite the cap in his mouth, Trick's words come out clear, concise, and there's another reason Laswell scooped him up like some stray dog off the sidelines - he can communicate better than most of his peers while working. No grunts or mumbles here. "It's that or they're using generators. Could start eyeballing petrol stations too. Look for anyone who looks Russian." A pause. "Don't... Don't actually do that, look for people paying in cash."