AN: Ok, so I know that in the movie Tuck is supposed to be 30, but I had to change that a little bit - that is, make him about 6 years older - to fit my story (this is fiction after all, I figured I could do what i wanted) So in this story he is 27 and it's around that age that he meets Kate - his future wife.
When I start writing about the events described in the movie, he is going to be around 35-36.
Sorry for the math lesson.
I do hope you enjoy this.
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The Irresistible force paradox, also formulated as "What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?"
The immovable object and the irresistible force are both implicitly assumed to be indestructible, or else the question would have a trivial resolution.
Furthermore, it is assumed that they are two separate entities, since an irresistible force is implicitly an immovable object, and vice versa.
oOoOo
1.
FDR didn't think he'd ever seen his boss so freaking pissed. A vein was pumping in her forehead, her eyes were so narrowed from anger that they had practically turned to slits, her movements were snappy, her voice like the noise of nails scratching a blackboard and boy was he glad that she did not have a weapon on her anymore or he was sure that both he and Tuck would have to duck for cover or find themselves riddled with bullets.
"Un-fucking-believable. Your orders were to follow him, to gather intel that would lead us to the man financing the terrorist cell… and what do you do?" Her voice kept getting louder and louder and Tuck and FDR kept getting smaller and smaller on their chairs.
"You chaise him down a packed street, blow up half a block and break the one international law that is never, never to be broken!"
"Well, on our defense…"
Liz slapped the file down on her desk and stared hard into FDR's face, practically daring him to go on talking and give her a reason to stab him, as if there weren't enough already. FDR trailed off and looked down.
"You chased him inside an embassy! Shot him down in front of cameras! How in god's name could you be so stupid?"
"We shot the cameras." FDR murmured.
"Next time, you shoot yourselves first!" And by now she was yelling and so angry that her blush was showing despite her dark skin. Tuck winced and FDR rubbed his temples.
"He would have made that bomb detonate in the middle of the market. It had to be done." Tuck said, speaking for the first time, looking at his boss without regret of apologizing in his eyes.
Liz stared at him so hard and with such burning anger that he regretted talking at all for a moment.
"You had a mission, you had orders. Because you two got sidetracked and forgot that, many more people will die."
The silence that perpetrated after those words was heavy and full of tension. Liz rubbed the bridge of her nose, shaking her head as if she already regretting. These two were the brightest agents she had had for almost a generation. They were talented, resourceful, strong, fast, sharp, smart… but so fucking young, god dam it. They were not new to taking orders, they both had military backgrounds of some kind, but they also had attitude problems and issues with authority.
And now, it turns out they also had a fucking conscience.
"Get the hell out of my office." She said finally, the tiredness showing in her voice. "You two are to be placed on desk duty until I see fit to bother reconsidering."
And she reconsidered.
For four months.
And when she finally did come to them with something… it was a fucking surveillance job. They were both overqualified for it, so it was pretty obvious that this was punishment.
But on the upside, their target was suspected of being tied to the terrorist cell they had been after in Kandahar. She was either a contact, or a gun for hire… or a student that had a very busy like at NYU. They had nothing on her except for the dubious leads that had led them to her, which in itself was fishy enough. Nobody that pops up on their nets is that clean.
So they set up shop.
They found the target's current residence and found out that the girl (5'5, blonde hair cut in a bob, medium build, fit enough to throw a decent punch) was pretending to be an MIT student, living with three other girls whose background checked out. They found a vacant place right across the street from hers without needing to 'vacate' it themselves by sending the owner into a long vacation – a lucky coincidence.
Until they met the owner of the apartment they were supposed to live in.
In the morning, when they came in like two ordinary young men moving into a new place, a girl was there to greet them. Tuck would have thought it usual, if it wasn't for the 'oh, fuck!' that FDR mumbled by his side.
"What?" Tuck asked directly, hand already reaching for the concealed piece on his side.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Franklin continued, as he stepped out of the car, putting on a flawlessly happy face. When Tuck saw the recognition flood the face the girl by the building's entrance, he understood the whole fuss and felt the need to curse as well.
This girl knew FDR.
Fuck was an understatement.
With one glance, Tuck sized the girl up. She was small, maybe 5'3-5'4, built lean though doubtlessly a female. No relevant muscle mass, too thin to be any good in a fight, dark brown hair that was gathered in a high ponytail, and black rimmed glasses that almost hid her dark eyes. Baggy black sweatpants, fitting black T-shirt, nowhere to hide a weapon.
She was also smart. Tuck could see the way she had taken them in, sized them up as soon as both he and Frank stepped out of the car. This was not Franklin's usual type of female.
And how the bloody hell did Frank know a girl that lived on the other side of the fucking country? Had he managed to shag his way through America this fast?
"Katie, how had you been?" Franklin called with open arms, as if to greet her friendlily. Tuck put on his nicest smile, letting his friend do the introducing, before he wacked him around the head when they were alone.
"Franklin?" She frowned in disbelief. FDR walked straight to her, as if he was going to hug her, but she put up one hand. "I'm not going to hug you Frank." The girl deadpanned, without so much as blinking differently.
Frank snorted. "Sharp as ever, huh Katie."
"What are you doing here?"
"Trying to get into my new apartment." Franklin countered as brightly as she was serious. "This here is my friend Tuck Williams. We're moving for a few weeks, for a job."
"Pleasure to meet you." Tuck said with a smile. The girl nodded in his direction.
"Katerina Anderson, you can call me Kate. Come on this way." She said, maintaining a cool appearance but not failing to be polite. Then turned around and led them through the lobby of the building, a second pair of stairs and into an elevator. They took their suitcases and a couple of boxes with them – there were hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment in there.
In the elevator, the girl was silent as a shadow, but Franklin was itching to tease her.
"How long have you been living here?" Frank asked casually.
"About five years now." She replied. Tuck had a feeling that she didn't really feel like talking to them, but Frank kept pushing it, doing so with such familiarity that told Tuck his friend had known this Katie a long time.
"Did you move to go to college or what?"
"College." She answered. Her tone was neutral and her answers clipped, but she was not being rude, at least it did not appear so. Tuck got the feeling that while she was not against making smalltalk, she was going to be precise and laconic in her answers nonetheless.
"NYU?"
"MIT."
"You still doing that or did you graduate already?"
"Graduated a few years ago."
"MIT huh? That's impressive. What did you major on? No wait, lemme guess, computer stuff."
"You always did manage to put details into perspective Franklin." Kate deadpanned, but she was smiling nonetheless.
"So what do you do now?"
"None of your biz, Unibrow."
Tuck managed to cover up his laugh as a cough, but did so poorly, because Frank shot him a glare. But he just hadn't been able to help it. Unibrow, that was too awesome.
Maybe meeting this girl wasn't so bad.
The girl took them to the seventh floor into and opened the door for them, showing them in into a small but very clean and well preserved apartment. There were four windows facing east – and directly in front of their target's apartment.
"Alright then boys, this is it. There are two other rooms and a bathroom, I'll spear you the tour. It's sound surrounded, so you can yell as much as you like, but preferably not after eleven, there are kids living upstairs."
"It's perfect thank you." Tuck said, speaking for the first time since he had see her. She looked at him, her eyes staying on his a couple of seconds, but not enough to be obvious about it.
"Here's the rent for this month." FDR said handing her an envelope. Kate looked at it and then looked back up to FDR before she took it, fixing him with a hard stare.
"One more thing, before I take the money. This is my apartment, so no matter how much rent you pay that does not give you the right to do any kind of irreparable damage in here. I want this place back in the same condition I see it now. If you fuck up in any way shape or form, you pay for it yourself. If you don't, I'm coming after you with a 7 iron golf club. Is anything in any way unclear?"
Tuck looked over at FDR – who had the decency to wince - and wanted to punch his lights out. It was debatable whether this girl came up to his shoulder, but she was staring at them with the seriousness of killer over those black-rimmed glasses.
"Everything's crystal clear Katie. We're stand up guys, you can trust us."
The girl have him a look, arching one eyebrow at Frank like she knew all about the kind of stand up guy he was and Franklin actually squirmed under her stare so much that Tuck was certain they had some kind of history. She seemed to know him well, and was aware of it enough to make someone like FDR uncomfortable.
This was not good…
"Come on, we won't set the place on fire, I promise. And if we break anything, you can feel free to shoot him." FDR added with his most charming smile on, pointing at Tuck. Katie didn't even crack a smile.
"No, I think I'm destined to shoot you. Have a nice day gents."
She left, closing the door after herself.
Tuck looked at her go, and then turned to his friend.
"Oh, she's really cooperative."
FDR rolled his eyes. "Hey, this apartment is empty, its 5 seconds away from our surveillance target and it's got heating. What more do you want?"
Tuck turned serious all at once. "It's not good that she knows you."
"No it's not." FDR confirmed.
"How long have you known her?"
Franking cracked a smile as he unloaded their equipment. "I went to the same elementary school with her, and then high school as well."
Tuck frowned. "She looks kinda young to be our age." Their age meaning 27 years old. That girl looked like a freshmen in college.
"That's because she'd not. She must be what, 22 - 23 maybe. I'm not sure. She was the weird kid that took all the advanced classes, got her GED at fifteen or something... I didn't know she'd be here." Frank then added sounding a little sorry that he hadn't taken the time to do a deeper search of the area.
"Didn't you recognize her name in the field check you did before we moved here?" Tuck asked as he set up the equipment in one of the rooms.
"No, because her name wasn't in the records. Which doesn't surprise me. She's using her mother's maiden surname."
There was a strange note in his voice when Tuck said that, but FDR didn't elaborate and Tuck didn't ask. He was too busy putting together the devices and computers and setting up the connection with Drew – their coordinator in the headquarters.
"This is Tuck reporting. Drew, you there mate?"
"Hey Tuck. We got a visual on the target, she's walking home right now."
"Thanks." Tuck cut the connection and turned to FDR. "You got that?"
His friend signed him the 'ok' as he set up the telescope and heat detectors. They were in for some long nights…