Ian looked around the Brewpub; it didn't look like much. McSweeten and Taggert and raved about it during the morning briefing at the Portland field office they said the staff was a bit eccentric; but, it was Portland, so he shrugged it off. Taggert said something about McSweeten being sweet on one of the blonde deep cover agents who frequented it. And whatever they served was bound to be better than the soggy croissant he had for breakfast. So he sat in a corner booth and watched; there was a good traffic in both dine-in and carry-out which boded well for the food. Big guy behind the bar looked a bit familiar; but, he'd disappeared a couple minutes after he showed up. Same thing with the waitress with the prison tattoos. Ian was used to making people nervous so he looked at the menu, burger, nachos, pasta, pretty standard brewpub fare, with a little flair.
"Your food will be out soon, you pansy-ass ground pounder."
"Ummm…" New waitress, he didn't think he was that intimidating to scare off a waitress in less than a minute. He scanned the room as his water cup was filled, and his menu was forcibly taken away from him by a really pretty waitress; she reminded him a bit of Amita. Not too many people called him out this bluntly, even if she was blushing and consulting her order pad – someone had put her up to it.
"Don't worry; you'll like your lunch."
As the waitress left the tracker pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through emails, figured he'd check in on the team and his Doc. He really hated this electronic leash; it did make somethings easier, but, …
"Bread, and an iced chai. Cream on the side, four Splenda." She topped off his water, "Do you need anything else?"
He read her name tag. "Amy, some food. Taggert said I should…"
She cut him off with "It'll be here in a minute."
Well, given that Taggert had said, and the size of his belly, everything on the menu was good; Ian would take whatever Amy brought him out. The tracker did wonder if he'd see the agent that McSweeten was sweet on, apparently between deep-cover assignments she often ate here. He debated the words that the waitress had said and tested a hunch; Amy didn't look like she'd been military. "How'd you know I was Army?"
Amy smile, and threw Mike's words at him. "Army stink is pretty distinctive."
A grin split Ian's face. Amy thought he was pretty handsome when he wasn't scowling like the world was about to end. "That fucking frog. Never would have figured him for this." He carefully pulled a piece of bread out of the basket. "Rather be a grunt than a squid."
Amy thought about responding; but, grinned and went to check on her other tables. Keeping an eye on the exits he watched the traffic flow; Charlie would be impressed, probably say something about water flow, traffic lights, and optimization (it wouldn't be 'or,' it would definitely be and).
"Careful it's hot." Ian looked up as a steaming plate with a bowl was put in front of him
"Spencer, always forgot how quiet you walked. This your new place."
"Mmm…" He slid into the booth with a cup of coffee, as Amy slid the yucca fries and salad in front of Ian along with a fresh roll of silverware.
Ian took a deep breath, smelled like homemade. The creaminess of the pot pie, it had to be chicken. The slight spiciness of the yucca fries. "Tajin? Interesting choice." He went to pick the tomatoes off the salad, and saw there were none. His eyes crinkled with happiness.
"I remembered. You hate tomatoes."
Amy moved onto her other tables, keeping an eye on Eliot and the other guy. It was like watching a chess game. Stare for stare. Scary guys, she'd bet a nickel scary guy had some weird stories.
"Storytime?"
"Not yet." Eliot checked his watch, "Soon. That was a good shot." You want a beer? You aren't working."
"Wind shear was a bit tricky, the buildings made the winds more variable than usual." Ian shrugged; Eliot's powers of observation were truly astounding. "Not at the moment. Yeah, one."
"Jane, can I have two of the hazy IPAs?" He called across the room. The resulting head bob was interesting."
"She part of your new crew?"
"Always a Fed." Eliot deflected. " You still seeing that math teacher?" Julius dropped off a glass of water, some more bread, and butter and glared at Ian flexing his biceps.
"Professor." Ian corrected.
"Tomato, tomato. Cognitive emergence theory?"
"You can actually can spell that, squidbrain." Ian was a bit surprised, high-end math was not something that had ever seemed to interest the hitter. He wasn't saying the hitter was stupid; he just preferred… other pursuits.
"I've got friends in those circles." He shrugged; "your friends have probably know my friend, she dabbles in neurocognitive frameworks; makes some forays into other things. Circles that about things like like that aren't very big. She says Charlie's initial work looks good."
"Amita says the same thing. Ian took a bite and just about swooned. "Your food is as good as ever, my man. I do have a couple questions for you. You still seeing the cellist? What did you say your friend's name is?" In between bites he slid a fuzzy picture across the table.
The hitter glared at Ian. "I didn't say their name."
Jane dropped off the pints, a glass of water and glanced at her Executive Chef. "Cellist? I thought…" The quelling Eliot gave the bartender shut her up. "Fine, see if I give you more honey."
Eliot thunked his head on the table. "Shit."
"What, it's just honey? She'd be good at poker" He gestured at the picture. "He come here a lot?"
Eliot glared and growled. "You saw the sign at the door 'everyone's welcome.' And you don't get it, Jane's honey is the best there is on the west coast. Why, why me? "
"Squid for brains that's what you get. At least I … " He saw the faces at the kitchen window, and waved at them. They all quickly ducked down.
Eliot shook his head and just took a drink from his pint. "What do ya' want with him?"
"Art theft."
"Not your usual gig."
Ian gestured with his spoon at the picture of the man that could be Eliot's twin. "Figured, I'd visit a friend, Charlie's speaking at a conference here. Figured I'd tag along, get a good meal; maybe meet your new crew." He took a bite of salad, carefully dipping the spinach into the dressing. "Interesting group of people." Ian dipped a yucca fries into the creamy sauce surrounding the succulent chicken.
Mary dropped off extra napkins, while carrying an espresso cup, looking Ian up and down.
"Am I okay?" Ian asked.
"For a feeb." She muttered, departing.
"Interesting, you could say that again. We got all kinds working here, second chances." Eliot looked at his phone and smiled at the text message that had just come in.
"Cellist?"
"No, neurocognitive frameworks. She's pissed at some geek at some conference; he won't pull his head out of his ass."
"Cal Sci? Fuck, now you do sound like Charlie."
"Nah, it's in town." Eliot let out a chuckle, texted Faith back to ask if he needed to beat up the geek, and glanced at his watch. He an hour or before Parker would be back, and saw Lisa standing over by the bar holding a glass of water and clutching an espresso cup. "Lisa, you coming over too?"
Lisa put the cup in her apron's pocket and nervously walked over brought Eliot a glass of water, quickly set Ian's glass down next to the other three, and grabbed her espresso cup before rabbiting off.
"Everyone here coming over?" Ian asked, working through his salad. "Good dressing."
"Juan makes it; his dressings are great. Probably. Might miss a couple that you make especially nervous."
Ian had no issues being not subtle and calling out his colleague of almost twenty years. "You need me to leave before your crew gets back? Compartmentalization and all that."
"In a bit, yeah, they wouldn't …"
"Your watch dogs decide they approve, yet?" Ian gestured towards Mary who was glaring at him with her arms crossed.
Eliot shrugged. "Who knows. They have their emotional support espresso cups."
Ian looked a little perplexed.
"The new bar back, bartender, waiter, … whatever he decides to be that day. He's been teaching the staff self-defense."
Ian finished the salad and stared at Eliot.
"I had to buy all new espresso cups last month." He shook his head, "damn unnecessary expense."
"And…" Ian sat back sipping the beer, and waited.
"Wrong shape. The old ones worked for Mr …" Eliot stopped himself before he let the name Quinn slide out. "But, didn't work for the female staff. We switched to a cup that works better for multiple hand sizes."
"So, self-defense espresso mugs?"
"Murder cups!" Amy bounced over with the check. "Much better ring to it."
"It's on me." Eliot grumbled taking the check. "He teaches in the back room, Sunday mornings."
"Sunday, huh." Ian made a big show of checking his phone.
"No you cannot come." The hitter growled.
Lisa slid back over with another napkin. "This week is pens."
"You're leaving!" Eliot glared at Ian. "You will not teach this staff your sneaky mojo. Tell Charlie and Colby I say hi."
Ian just laughed as he got up. "I always forget you and Colby crossed paths in Afganistan. Tell Clint I say hi."
"You forgot your leftovers." Amy came up breathlessly with a bag and a cup of espresso for Eliot. Jane had used a marker to put a picture of a honey bee on the side along with a sad face with the letter x for eyes.
Ian looked quizzically at Eliot who just shrugged. "I just work here."
"You need to eat more." Amy stared pointedly at the tracker. "Sāppiṭu (eat)"
Ian took the bag, he wasn't going to complain about the food; Eliot could cook! "Use your espresso cups and pens well. Have him teach you how to use a straw." He did ponder coming to watch on Sunday morning, if he was still in town.
"Straws?"
"No. Just no. Murder cups is bad enough. What was wrong with my self-defense class?"
Amy had just the come-back for this, she'd been saving it for weeks.
"The style is too distinctive, need to vary it to prevent predictability."
Eliot banged his head on the table again, this was his life.
Ian laughed, and laughed and told Amy "Vanakkam (Thank you)." Her eyes widened a bit at that.
"You speak Tamil?"
"Koñcam (a little)." He replied to Amy. He tossed over his shoulder "At least she seems to not mind me." Walking towards the door, he thought, he might not have gotten a solid lead on Jake Stone; but, he had enough to start. And he could confirm to the Portland office that Jake Stone and Eliot Spencer were not the same person.
"She's trying to get you to teach her group how to kill people with a straw." Eliot grunted at Ian as he walked out.
"Where did he learn Tamil?" Amy stuttered as the hot Fed left. No white people spoke Tamil.
Eliot just shrugged, it was Ian, and went back to deal with finishing dinner prep, and telling himself to drop Jake a line about Ian.