Thank you, Karen Battaglia, for your review!
I spent some time figuring out time differences, flight times, etc., so in order for Bradley to get there to eventually help Max and 99, I put in another night spent there for Max and 99 before they get to the restaurant and Krstic's house.
Happy reading!
"I don't understand," Susan said, staring at her computer screen. "What the hell am I looking at?" It was the next day around 10 a.m. (5 p.m. Moscow time), and she was looking through Bradley's eye camera.
She was seeing a very irate farmer who was waving his arms and screaming at Bradley while repeatedly pointing at the gaping hole in his barn and then at a pig, who was eating and not even paying attention to either of them. Nancy was peering over her shoulder, intrigued.
"It would seem that something fell out of the sky and crashed into this bloke's barn," Bradley translated since the man was yelling in Russian. "He said he went to look, and his own pig was thrown at him, causing him to go flying and hurt himself pretty good."
Susan and Nancy shared a look.
"I seriously doubt Max has the ability to whip a grown ass pig at a grown ass man and send both of them flying like that," Susan said.
"He says the man was enormous and had super strength," Bradley finished.
"Definitely not Max," Susan said, relieved. But she still didn't know where Max was and felt worried. She turned off her comm and faced Nancy, who was looking nervous.
"You don't think he's dead, do you?" she asked.
"God, Nancy, don't even say that!" Susan admonished, but she felt just as scared too. She kept working, checking in with Bradley as he searched for Max and 99. At around 1 p.m., Elaine showed up at her desk, snapping her fingers at Susan.
"CONTROL needs someone to help them direct their agents via computer," she said. "I recommended you, Cooper. Get over there."
"I'm on it," Susan nodded, getting up quickly.
"Here's how to find them," Elaine said. "I knew they'd need our help." She gave Susan the directions, shook her head, annoyed, and walked away.
"Good luck," Nancy said. Susan grabbed her bag and ran out of there. She felt honored that CONTROL trusted her enough to help.
When she arrived at CONTROL headquarters, she walked alongside the secretary until they approached two men. She recognized one as Chief, but she didn't recognize the other one. She could hear Chief talking with this man, who was complaining about being stuck in the office. Susan knew all about that.
"We don't jam staples into other people's heads," one was saying. "That's CIA crap."
Susan resisted laughing out loud. He had a point there. Rick Ford on a good day involved some manner of tom foolery. Susan furrowed her brow as she recalled a vague memory of Ford using a stapler on someone. Perhaps it was a well known fact after all that the CIA used their staplers as weapons.
"Excuse me?" she said. "Hello?"
"Oh! Shoot," the man said, swiveling. "Hello? Susan?"
"Yes!"
"Good. You're just in time. Come with me."
She followed him to a room with computers and two men smirking at one man, who was punching at keys on his computer and sweating very badly.
"Do you not have it yet?" Chief demanded.
"It was there, and then it went away! I don't know where it went!"
"Get it back!"
"Stop yelling at me," the man whined. "It's not helping..."
"Larabee, so help me I will give you a hammer to play whack a mole with landmines if you don't get that screen back," Chief started, but he stopped. He gestured to Susan then. "We have Susan Cooper from the CIA here to help. She is also Max's good friend, thankfully. Susan, go for it."
"With pleasure," she grinned, going to move the incredibly flustered Larabee out of the way and cracking her fingers before pulling up exactly what Chief wanted.
...
Rats. They really were Max's nemesis. He had been doing so well with the dodging the lasers game until the damn rat went down the back of his shirt and quickly bee lined for his butt. 99 was gasping and telling him to calm down, which wasn't helping. He jerked and kicked and smacked at himself as the rat scrabbled his claws on some unpleasant areas on his way down. He finally got it out, and the rat ran from his pant leg for his life. Max resisted pulling out his gun and shooting it. He rested on the floor for a moment, regaining his composure. He was exhausted on top of it all because he had not slept well the night before. It had been in a barn after all, which had been uncomfortable and scratchy, and he couldn't wait for a real mattress to sleep on after this was over. They had continued on that morning after a rooster rudely woke them. They walked a long time on the country road until 99 had finally found and "borrowed" a scooter. Max told her about a restaurant that KAOS agents loved to attend, and they found their man, Krstic, and attended his fancy party. Max had a dance off with 99 and Krstic before they got back to work. Chief had helped them find another way in, and Max had been surprised to hear Susan's voice. He was glad to hear it, though. He knew he was in good hands if she was involved.
"Max?" 99 said. "Come on."
He shuddered again before following her. They found Krstic's computer easily enough. He did a sweep for bad guys and ended up knocking down a bunch of beads.
"What was that?" she asked when he joined her in the computer room.
"Just some tap dancers," he lied. She gave him a look that said she didn't believe him.
"I can't get in," she sighed. Max leaned over to exhale on the finger pad, and it let them in.
"The old 'your breath sticks to everything but the fingerprint' trick," he shrugged.
"Okay," she said, looking on the screen and ignoring Max. She didn't like feeling stupid. "We have shipments of explosives and detonators."
"He is a bomb maker," Max pointed out.
"The detonators were sent to a bakery in Moscow," she pointed. Max furrowed his brow. That was interesting. A creak of the floor outside made Max flip over the desk just as bullets came their way. Another bad guy slipped and fell, shouting. 99 looked at Max, who gave a smile.
"I totally set that up," he said, gesturing to all the beads on the floor with the bad guy lying unconscious on them. They ran, shooting, until Max came upon a bad guy holding 99. They fought them off together, and then Krstic himself appeared. He said he would kill them and sleep like a baby, but 99 kicked a gun to Max, who shot Krstic dead center, killing him. Max could hear Susan's voice in his head telling him what a good shot he was. If only she could have seen him in action just now.
They got out of there quickly, and they found another place to spend the night. They'd be going to check out the bakery the next day.
At least it wasn't another barn.
...
"They were definitely here," Bradley said. Susan was back at CIA headquarters since there was nothing else she could do to assist CONTROL in that moment.
"Krstic's place?" Susan clarified.
"Yea," Bradley answered. "He's dead. Chatter is that two Americans killed him. I'd assume those are our missing agents?"
"Yea. I helped them get in there earlier."
"Oh. Thanks for telling me," Bradley said sarcastically.
"Sorry."
"They're going to a bakery in Moscow tomorrow," Susan told him. "You might be able to meet up with them there."
"Sure. I'm going to catch some sleep now, though. It's late," Bradley said. "Good night, Susan."
She smiled to herself as she closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep beside him.
"Did you fart or something?" Ford asked, appearing at her desk and making her open her eyes.
"Excuse me?" she countered.
"You just look thrilled about something," Ford shrugged. Susan stared at him.
"And passing gas is something to be thrilled about?" she asked.
"For some, yea," he nodded. "Not everyone is gifted in that area. You were making the face for it too."
"Oh my God...what do you want?" she demanded. The idea that her "thinking about sex" face resembled the same face associated with letting one rip was a bit unsettling.
"What's the status on Fine?" he asked.
"He's fine," she replied. "Sleeping now."
"Should have been me," Ford shook his head. "I'm the better agent."
He walked off, still shaking his head and muttering to himself. Something about "fire" or "riding a burning truck" or something. Susan gave up listening. She didn't care anyway.
She packed up her bag and went home. All she could do was wait for the next day when Max and 99 got to the bakery.