Fellow Travellers
Jan. 2nd, 2010 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dani_the_girlTitle: Fellow Travellers
Fandoms: Spooks / Broken Wings
Summary: Lucas quite likes picking up hitch hikers.
Notes: Written for the 101 times JD Nielson hitched a ride challenge. I think Lucas and JD would potentially get on well if they could actually trust each other enough to work together on something. ~1000 words.
Lucas quite likes picking up hitch hikers. It's an interesting observational challenge trying to figure them out and one with no consequences for a change. It avoids the sense of solitude in an enclosed space, or, if Ros is the car, winds her up enormously. And it's a surprisingly good way of dropping a tail. Assuming they're on the case enough not to just shoot right past when you suddenly pull over into the layby, the resulting manoeuvres stick out a mile and they might as well paint neon "You are being followed" signs on the front of the car after that.
Those who are tenacious enough to stick past the pick up can require some interesting defensive driving to get rid of, which can in turn sometimes make the passenger start to give Lucas concerned looks and ostentatiously thumb their mobiles - "If you're taking me to some random place to rob/rape/stab me, look, I can call for help!" - but the great British reserve means they rarely call him on it.
It turns out that the wiry dark haired kid he picks up on his way out to Cardiff is American but he seems to have the reserve down in spades, Lucas notes as he spins the wheel to take an unexpected exit off the roundabout and they take a short swift spin through a low traffic housing estate with enough junctions to shake off the car. There's no sense of urgency about it - it's probably just the Russians, or 6 again, keeping tabs. It's a nice little routine. They put someone on him, he shakes them off. Still, the kid doesn't seem perturbed at all, just slouches a little in his seat, watching the passing traffic. It's just a little unusual. Most of the hitchers like to do a little bit of light small talk when they get in, nervously thank you for the lift, tell you a little bit about themselves but apart from confirming that he wanted to go to Somerset and was therefore happy to be dropped off anywhere on the M4 before Bristol in an accent which places him in the northern half of the USA he's said nothing. Not even a name. He's probably a university student, Lucas figures, based on the age but if he's going to get any more, he's actually going to have to start the conversation himself.
"So, I'm Lucas," he introduces himself.
"Yeah, I know," the kid replies. "Lucas North. I'm JD Neilson. Nice bit of driving there."
Of course, this is the other interesting thing that happens when you pick up hitchers. He's got a couple of really good tip offs in the past and one guy trying to kill him, but it all keeps the adrenaline moving. He realises that the kid, JD, hasn't been idly looking out of the window, he's been watching the tail in the mirrors.
"It's warm in here," JD comments. "Mind if I take this off?" He gestures at his jacket and Lucas shrugs. Underneath, he can see that the kid is wiry but looks strong with it, to Lucas' eyes. His movements are not the awkward fumblings of a late teenager, but graceful, under control. He's wearing a tight fitting t-shirt saying "Science. It works, bitches!" and from under the arms, Lucas can see the curls of tattoo ink. He catches sight of the kid's eyes flicking to his own arms and realises he's got his sleeves rolled up. He resists the urge to immediately roll them down again.
They drive on in silence for another fifteen minutes. Lucas tries to divide his attention between watching the road and watching JD. There's an energy about him, a coiled spring feel but he's not carrying any weapons that Lucas can see. He digs something out of his coat pocket and then leans around into the back seat to toss the coat behind him.
Eventually, JD breaks the silence. "This car clean?"
Lucas shrugs. "Last time I checked."
The kid fiddles around with whatever it was he picked out and says "OK, we're good." The device doesn't seem to do anything, but it could be a low frequency emitter, Lucas decides. Nice piece of field kit. He raises an eyebrow and waits.
"I need some help from Harry Pearce," the kid says.
The thing is, Lucas thinks, he can't find a way to put together the cues to add up to anything. The body language, the kit, the knowledge all say field officer. But the kid can't possibly be more than 21. 23 at the outside. Langley like to get them young, but not that young, and not for covert deep cover ops that require you to finagle your way into another officer's car instead of oh, say, dropping a note round via the CIA liaison officer.
"And Harry Pearce knows you exist, does he?" he asks, letting his scepticism show.
JD laughs. "Yes and no. Listen. You can't mention this to anyone but Harry. What do your people know about a group called the Trust?"
"Nothing spectacular," Lucas says with a shrug. "Financial assets spread around, group of like minded businessmen getting together to prattle about how to protect the free world from terrorism. Rather more active your side of the pond than ours anyway."
"Not for long," JD replies grimly. "We think they've got someone inside the grid. Tell Harry, don't tell anyone else."
"Who's we, here?" Lucas asks, keeping his voice even.
"USAF," the kid says. "Tell Harry that Jack O'Neill is passing on a friendly warning."
They drive on in silence for a little. Lucas can't decide whether this is intended to be some kind of joke or not. If it wasn't absolutely not her style, he would suspect Ros of setting the kid off to get her own back for the hippy they picked up driving out to check up on something in Manchester a few weeks ago, but Ros doesn't go in for jokes. It's one of the things he likes about her. On the other hand, he can't see what the hell else it can be. The kid's obviously been briefed, this is not just random. He's a damn good player though - usually a plant will talk too much, be too eager to be believed, not cautious enough.
"Check it out when you get back to base," the kid suggests as if Lucas had been musing aloud. "East Germany, 1980. They ran a joint op to pull out one of our guys before he could be interrogated. It went badly, the guy died."
More silence. Not a joke, Lucas decides. Too much detail. Then what? "So you trust Harry," he says, aloud. "But what makes you think I'm not the Trust insider?"
"You were out of circulation at the time we think the compromise took place," JD says flatly. He looks over at Lucas' arm openly. "Don't say nothing to no-one. Good motto. Here'll do fine for me." He nods at the exit sign they're approaching. Lucas pulls over and lets him out before driving on towards Cardiff thinking very hard indeed.
Fandoms: Spooks / Broken Wings
Summary: Lucas quite likes picking up hitch hikers.
Notes: Written for the 101 times JD Nielson hitched a ride challenge. I think Lucas and JD would potentially get on well if they could actually trust each other enough to work together on something. ~1000 words.
Lucas quite likes picking up hitch hikers. It's an interesting observational challenge trying to figure them out and one with no consequences for a change. It avoids the sense of solitude in an enclosed space, or, if Ros is the car, winds her up enormously. And it's a surprisingly good way of dropping a tail. Assuming they're on the case enough not to just shoot right past when you suddenly pull over into the layby, the resulting manoeuvres stick out a mile and they might as well paint neon "You are being followed" signs on the front of the car after that.
Those who are tenacious enough to stick past the pick up can require some interesting defensive driving to get rid of, which can in turn sometimes make the passenger start to give Lucas concerned looks and ostentatiously thumb their mobiles - "If you're taking me to some random place to rob/rape/stab me, look, I can call for help!" - but the great British reserve means they rarely call him on it.
It turns out that the wiry dark haired kid he picks up on his way out to Cardiff is American but he seems to have the reserve down in spades, Lucas notes as he spins the wheel to take an unexpected exit off the roundabout and they take a short swift spin through a low traffic housing estate with enough junctions to shake off the car. There's no sense of urgency about it - it's probably just the Russians, or 6 again, keeping tabs. It's a nice little routine. They put someone on him, he shakes them off. Still, the kid doesn't seem perturbed at all, just slouches a little in his seat, watching the passing traffic. It's just a little unusual. Most of the hitchers like to do a little bit of light small talk when they get in, nervously thank you for the lift, tell you a little bit about themselves but apart from confirming that he wanted to go to Somerset and was therefore happy to be dropped off anywhere on the M4 before Bristol in an accent which places him in the northern half of the USA he's said nothing. Not even a name. He's probably a university student, Lucas figures, based on the age but if he's going to get any more, he's actually going to have to start the conversation himself.
"So, I'm Lucas," he introduces himself.
"Yeah, I know," the kid replies. "Lucas North. I'm JD Neilson. Nice bit of driving there."
Of course, this is the other interesting thing that happens when you pick up hitchers. He's got a couple of really good tip offs in the past and one guy trying to kill him, but it all keeps the adrenaline moving. He realises that the kid, JD, hasn't been idly looking out of the window, he's been watching the tail in the mirrors.
"It's warm in here," JD comments. "Mind if I take this off?" He gestures at his jacket and Lucas shrugs. Underneath, he can see that the kid is wiry but looks strong with it, to Lucas' eyes. His movements are not the awkward fumblings of a late teenager, but graceful, under control. He's wearing a tight fitting t-shirt saying "Science. It works, bitches!" and from under the arms, Lucas can see the curls of tattoo ink. He catches sight of the kid's eyes flicking to his own arms and realises he's got his sleeves rolled up. He resists the urge to immediately roll them down again.
They drive on in silence for another fifteen minutes. Lucas tries to divide his attention between watching the road and watching JD. There's an energy about him, a coiled spring feel but he's not carrying any weapons that Lucas can see. He digs something out of his coat pocket and then leans around into the back seat to toss the coat behind him.
Eventually, JD breaks the silence. "This car clean?"
Lucas shrugs. "Last time I checked."
The kid fiddles around with whatever it was he picked out and says "OK, we're good." The device doesn't seem to do anything, but it could be a low frequency emitter, Lucas decides. Nice piece of field kit. He raises an eyebrow and waits.
"I need some help from Harry Pearce," the kid says.
The thing is, Lucas thinks, he can't find a way to put together the cues to add up to anything. The body language, the kit, the knowledge all say field officer. But the kid can't possibly be more than 21. 23 at the outside. Langley like to get them young, but not that young, and not for covert deep cover ops that require you to finagle your way into another officer's car instead of oh, say, dropping a note round via the CIA liaison officer.
"And Harry Pearce knows you exist, does he?" he asks, letting his scepticism show.
JD laughs. "Yes and no. Listen. You can't mention this to anyone but Harry. What do your people know about a group called the Trust?"
"Nothing spectacular," Lucas says with a shrug. "Financial assets spread around, group of like minded businessmen getting together to prattle about how to protect the free world from terrorism. Rather more active your side of the pond than ours anyway."
"Not for long," JD replies grimly. "We think they've got someone inside the grid. Tell Harry, don't tell anyone else."
"Who's we, here?" Lucas asks, keeping his voice even.
"USAF," the kid says. "Tell Harry that Jack O'Neill is passing on a friendly warning."
They drive on in silence for a little. Lucas can't decide whether this is intended to be some kind of joke or not. If it wasn't absolutely not her style, he would suspect Ros of setting the kid off to get her own back for the hippy they picked up driving out to check up on something in Manchester a few weeks ago, but Ros doesn't go in for jokes. It's one of the things he likes about her. On the other hand, he can't see what the hell else it can be. The kid's obviously been briefed, this is not just random. He's a damn good player though - usually a plant will talk too much, be too eager to be believed, not cautious enough.
"Check it out when you get back to base," the kid suggests as if Lucas had been musing aloud. "East Germany, 1980. They ran a joint op to pull out one of our guys before he could be interrogated. It went badly, the guy died."
More silence. Not a joke, Lucas decides. Too much detail. Then what? "So you trust Harry," he says, aloud. "But what makes you think I'm not the Trust insider?"
"You were out of circulation at the time we think the compromise took place," JD says flatly. He looks over at Lucas' arm openly. "Don't say nothing to no-one. Good motto. Here'll do fine for me." He nods at the exit sign they're approaching. Lucas pulls over and lets him out before driving on towards Cardiff thinking very hard indeed.
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Date: 2010-01-05 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-06 04:11 pm (UTC)