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Friday 7th February


Sochi, the Winter Olympics 2014. 


The air was unseasonably warm in Sochi, casting doubts upon the logistics of the game, but spare snow had been stored, and was being hauled to the slopes. The mood was reasonably bouyant, with spectators both domestic and international looking forward to the herculean efforts of the olympians. Of course, the tourist industry was in full swing, with every type of food and drink being plied, and a rain of tourist tat to take home, place in the back of a cupboard, and stay there unseen for decades. 


There was a heavy and intimidating police presence, thanks to terrorists threats. And, some might say, to the possibility of demonstrations against the Russian governments policies over homosexuality. There was to be no marring of the festivities with contreversy, at least as far as the officialdom was concerned. 


One police officer was on edge. Sergeant K was smoking heavily. His revolver was hidden from view, under his armpit, but he always found it uncomfortable. Plain clothes policing in Russia could be a nerve wracking business. 


Shoulda brought a shotgun...he said to himself, between puffs, thinking of his favourite American film. 


He had good reason to be nervous too, given what he had found out. There was sweat on his forehead, despite the cool air. 


What he needed was someone to help him, and get him the hell out of Russia. An american tourist, well connected, plenty of money, and capable. He had considered approaching the American athletes, but they were too close to the problem, he judged. One wrong word, and boom...


A palpatation in his chest. He visibly jumped at the thought...

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A black limo pulled into a massive resort hotel.  Stern security detail at the ready to keep the curious brows of the crowd at bay.  Although they weren't waiting for the occupant of the limo, Erick Sloane knew being a famous athlete of Russian Descent would still attract unneeded attention.  Which meant downing the aspirin swirling around through his lips as fast as he could.  The man otherwise known as Foreshadow found himself reeling from the latest vision his gift of foresight had bestowed upon him.


His fellow occupants were no doubt giving Erick confused looks of concern.  Alaina Zelichonok whom was Erick's housemate, girl friday, and above all best friend was privy to the knowledge of Erick's gift of foresight.  As well as his extracurricular activities that went along with them.  But her current beau was completely left in the dark, shocked when Erick broke out in a cold sweat and suddenly jumped back in the car.  It was a very sour note to start up the last minute vacation that was meant to encompass Erick's upcoming birthday festivities.  It did mean having to mail his course work back to FCU, but it was such carefree waste of wealth behavior that really helped to strengthen the cover of his secret identity.


The driver moved around to open the door for Erick.  And as the refreshing cold Russian air brushed against present company's skin, Erick's eyes honed in on a most unexpected sight.  The smoke from his cigar practically billowing forth like a smoke signal to Erick's trained eyes.  It was the sergeant who in Erick's vision potentially took his last steps in Erick's direction before a bullet struck him.  An outcome Erick knew he couldn't allow to come to pass.  Erick's body tensing up in preparation.

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Sochi International Airport


Dee Farrington made her way through the busy airport towards the exits that lead to the taxi and other transportation loading area.  So far, her trip to the Winter Olympics was not going smoothly.  Clearing customs had taken far longer than it should have, and the custom officials had very thin excuses.  The young Englishwoman had been sorely tempted to read their minds to see what was up, but had resisted.


Mainly she was determined to enjoy her trip to the Winter Olympics, and was willing to let a little customs hold up go.  They were after all dealing with a large influx of people from all over the world.


Dee was usually not one to capitalize on her social status and her father's position in the House of Lords.  But as a something of a snowboard enthusiast and generally appreciative of a number of other Winter Olympic events, in this case she had been willing to get a few strings pulled to provide her some special access to some venues.  Part of her was riled by some of the political issues that slightly clouded over the event, but as a former US skater had stated on some of the issues, the Olympics was really about the athletes and the hard work and sacrifice they all had made to get themselves to this point.


She was almost to the exits when she spotted them, two suspicious looking Russian men in trench coats and dark sunglasses trying their best to look inconspicuous as they followed her.  A slight frown came to Dee's face as she wondered if this was the real reason for the customs hold up, allowing some security officers to get into place to trail her.


The young woman wondered why they felt the need to keep her under observation.  Might it have to do with her father's position in the government?  Or could the Russians somehow believe she was connected with the Ministry of Powers?  Of course, with her dyed black hair with a couple of bright pink streaks mixed in, her many piercings (including her tongue) as well as maybe some knowledge of her activist activities since college, the Russians could well think she was here to join protests against the country's policies on homosexuality (which she was somewhat tempted to do).


Sighing slightly, Dee decided that if they wanted to follow her around, they were more than welcome to.  Hopefully they would be able to keep up.


Stepping up to the curb outside, she flagged a taxi.  After the driver had stored her bags in the back, she stopped just before climbing into the back to turn and face the two men that were now standing off to one side.  She blew them a kiss and then climbed into the cab.

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At the Emerald Hotel...


Sergeant K kicked his feet, scuttling left and right outside the best Hotel in Sochi. Full of Russian Mafia and rich foreigners, he knew. He gave a dirty look back every time the doorman gave him one. 


He saw Ericks black limo pull up, and raised his eyebrows when the youth got out. 


Hold up...


Sergeant K was a big fan of sport. That was kind of how he had ended up in the mess he was in. He dimly recalled the youth competing in Athletics. American. Clean cut. An athlete. 


A perfect person to get him out of Russia. Someone with the contacts, the influence, and who would be deeply concerned about the "problem" he had come across. 


He stamped out his cigar, keen to make a good impression on a guy who no doubt disdained vodka and nicotine. and marched up to Erick. 


"Hello, um..." he paused, grim faced and desperate. 


"...Mister, you American, yes?" he asked in slightly broken English. Functional, but erratic. 


"I am the remembering you from the World Gymnastics. I big fan" he smiled. "My name Kazakov. Seargent Kazakov. Everyone callings me the Seargent K, heheh. Is wonder if I could be havings a moment of your time?" he said, flashing his badge under his lapel. 


"Nothing to be the worrying is. I just am having the problem, and I need someone like you to be helpings with" he said, trying to inject firmness, pleading, and friendliness into his demeanour and speech. 

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The two men trailing Dee were left with frowns and fury as she blew them a kiss. 


The Cab itself was a little shabby, but heated. The driver was a friendly man, complete with old cap and new sunglasses to protect him from the glare of the Sun that lay low in a crisp clear sky. He looked older, maybe in his fifties, but lean and cleanshaven. He spoke in very broken English, presumably a function of old movies and many tourists, rather than education. 


"American?" he asked. "I speak English little. How was flight? Good? Coming for Olympics?" he asked, making chit chat as he pulled out of the airport. 


"Where to madam? You got place stay? You plenty money, eh? I see bags! I know good hotel for you, best in Soshi! The Emerald Hotel!" he grinned, enthusiastically, giving her the thumbs up. 

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Erick wanted to maintain the officer within his line of sight his approach was a convenient turn of events.  Albeit a strange one from Erick's point of view.  Erick didn't bother with replying in English.  Feeling that some of it would just end up lost in translation with Sergeant K's English.  Forming a diplomatic smile before waving to the crowd he'd lean in to face Segeant K.  [Russian]"Da, I am American.  I would be glad to help you with your problem.  What seems to be the issue officer?"[/Russian]  Aside from the whole possibly getting shot thing.


[Russian]"Just know if this is about getting an autograph perhaps you would much rather join me inside the hotel.  If I sign one now, everyone's going to want one.  And I'm just not great at saying no."[/Russian]  Erick's comment was cemented with soft laughter as he gave the officer a quick once over.  Aside from the assorted scent of liquor and cigar fumes, he was curious if anything outright screamed 'this person has made some enemies.'  The erratic mix emotion on his expression from start to finish was a good starting point.


Erick tapped on the top of the limo before leaning his head into the vehicle.  "I'll be right up.  Why don't you two go on ahead?  I'm apparently going to be getting to know the local pd.  He probably just wants to go over some security precautions or wants an autograph."  Having addressed his traveling companions for the sake of appearances Erick pulls his head out and resumes giving Sergeant K his attention.  Making sure to move out of the way so his companions could actually begin making strides for entering the building.

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"<Ah you speak Russian!>" said I rather shocked Sergeant K, counting his blessings. 


This gets better and better! I struck bullseye!


"<Please, lets go inside. Its warmer there...>" he said, pulling Erick inside much to annoyance of the grim faced, eagle eyed Doorman. 


The Emerald was indeed a good hotel. Not truly world class, but within spitting distance. The money from the new wealthy elite of Russia had infused it with a grand design and clean, luxiourous decor. The staff were all pleasant, and spoke excellent English. 


"<Forgive my...intrusion. This is not about a signature. I am not here as part of the police. Unfortunately, I have discovered that some of the Russian team here, they are cheating. Drugged up, full of chemicals. You have heard? maybe not. And not just the normal steroids either, something even stronger. And nobody has noticed. This is a conspiracy, I think. Someone wants to make the Russians sweep the board this Olympiad...>" 


His eyes darted left and right in the foyer of the Emerald. 


"<You understand? I need help, my life is in danger if I speak of this. I need to get to America. I will help uncover this, but my I don't give myself a snowballs chance in hell of staying alive after I do...>"

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Dee had just been putting on her own sunglasses when she stopped to look out over the tops of them at the driver as he talked about a hotel he thought would be perfect for her. <"Really? Half the world is descending on your fair city and you believe I can just walk in and get a room at any hotel here, let alone one of the nicest ones, regardless of how much money I do, nor do not, have?"> She said in perfect Russian. It was a bit of an exaggeration of course, but the city was packed with tourists for the games, and open rooms were likely all but non-existent.

The young woman was getting the feeling that the cabbie was acting rather odd, and could speak far better English than he claimed. She wondered if he was part of the Russian security forces as well and this time, her curiosity got the better of her. Slipping her glasses fully on, she focused on the back of his head and reached out with her mental powers, looking to scan his surface thoughts. While she did so, she continued to talk, letting herself smile slightly.

<"Thought, it just so happens that I do have reservations at the Emerald Hotel, so all is well. And to answer your questions, no, I'm not American.  English. The flight was not bad, shorter than many coming her to be sure. And yes, I am here to watch the games.">

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<"Yes, I've been speaking Russian for as long as I could walk.">  Erick casually responded.  A bit surprised that the officer wasn't aware of his ability to speak Russian.  Taking it as a sign he might have not been following Erick's career from childhood then.  Not that Sergeant K appeared to be the world's biggest gymnastics enthusiast, although he did see the display at World's.


Erick's expression grew stone faced as he listened to the explanation.  It was sad to say that doping scandals were not a rarity in the Russian Olympic scene.  Neither was judge and device tampering.  But to the degree Sergeant K was speaking of was an entirely different matter.  Information that was truly worth killing over.  Quickly he masked the expression taking on a more relaxed front.  Noting the last thing that he wanted was to draw the wrong sort of attention to himself at the moment.


<"Before we start making plans to drop by Customs and Immigration.  Assuming you have your papers and everything for travel as otherwise it might draw eyes to my plane.  It might be prudent to wait things through.">  Of course Erick couldn't just send Sergeant K on his merry way on a flight out of the country.  Governments tended to frown on that.  And he needed to verify the information himself anyways.  It was a public spectacle and he a public figure, which meant sometimes it was easier to hide in plain sight.  <"However, I would like to discuss this matter further.  Anything you can tell me on the chemicals, but more importantly does anyone know you know?">

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Sergeant K sighed, looking nervous and despondent. He shuffled his feat, wiped the sweat of his brow. 


"<No, I have not got papers>" he said, indicating they should keep the noise level down, and doing so himself. "<I got my passport, that's it. You think America will welcome an old Russian Police Officer travelling alone with welcome arms? I don't think so. I need someone to vouch for me, get me in, give me asylum>" he explained. 


"<I do not know who is doing this cheat, honestly I do not. I do know that it is not your regular doping. They are using some kind of super serum, something born from the cold war, you know? Russia and America, each trying to build the perfect soldier. And this was from the time everything was spies and secrets. Half the time the government wasn't even aware of what happened in their own soil. But now some patriot, he decided to build up Russia again, not by war, but by prestige. You know the problems now? Protests, Terrorists...Russia needs to rattle the sabre, look strong...>"


"<And I do not think Government knows about this. Maybe they don't look hard enough. Maybe they don't look at all. But I heard nothing from my old KGB contacts>" he explained. 


"<But I am still scared for my life. Old habits die hard...>"

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Meanwhile...in the Taxi...


The Driver nodded when Dee replied, a small gulp and tic in his forehead when she questioned him about the convenience of the Emerald Hotel. A small sigh and relaxation when she said she had a reservation there. His voice displayed no loss of beat, however. 


"<You speak Russian! Welcome to Russia! I did not know you English spoke it. I am sorry about calling you American, heh? You English are much nicer. I love James Bond!>" he smiled. 


"<You have a reservation at the Emerald already?>" he said, ignoring her comments about being booked anyway. "<You will love it there, best rooms, best service, best food! Ah, if only I had the money to take my wife there for a few nights>" he said. 


He knew the way well enough. They were pulling into the Emerald as he spoke. 


"<And here we are! Lovely building, yes? Will you be staying long?>" he asked, a little emphasis on the last question. 

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As she tried to slip into the driver's mind, Dee found her attempt rebuffed.  Either the driver had some pretty good mental conditioning, or, the slight fuzziness she could still feel in her head from a couple of in-flight cocktails was hampering her.  Either way, the young Englishwoman decided not to worry too much about it at the moment.  If he was part of the security apparatus, well, again the Russians were welcome to watch all they wanted.


<"Not all of us do, but there are some.">  She replied casually to his comment about her speaking Russian.  <"And thank you for the welcome.">


Dee responded politely enough as he talked about how much she would enjoy the hotel.  After all, she was not planning on spending a significant amount of time there.  As they pulled up she looked out the window at the building.  <"Yes, very lovely.">  She responded.  <"And I will be leaving a couple days after the closing ceremonies.">  She then added, the same answer she had given at customs. 


Climbing out of the taxi, she waited while he brought her bags around and then paid in him rubbles, with a nice tip.  Even if he had been there to watch her, he had gotten her here efficiently enough.

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<"Yes...look strong.  I'm not looking to end up on the wrong end of an FSB interrogation.  If your information turns out to be true I will do everything in my power to make sure you get your asylum. To not arouse any suspicion and seeing as you're not here on any official police business.  I am sure we can see to it that you remain safe for now.  It wouldn't be strange for me to add a bodyguard from the official police roster.">  Erick stated obviously offering Sergeant K a temporary cover if the man needed one to keep himself safe.  Which judging by his fidgeting he might have.  Police corruption wasn't a lost part of Russian Affairs, so Erick knew a bribe or two might come up in an actual conversation process with the man's superiors.  But more importantly he needed the chance to confirm i Sergeant K was just trying to string him along to get out of the country.


The Cold War may have ended.  But that doesn't mean the competitive mentality had faded away into nothingness.  On a personal level, Erick found the idea of going so far morally reprehensible from the athletes themselves.  And the less said about his feelings towards those that repurposed the serum for athletic competition the better.  Even if the questionably true story was able to pull on all of the right buttons for Erick which made it hard to fathom as true.  He knew the man in front of him needed his help for some reason or another.  He had seen that much.

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"<Bodyguard eh? You got some serious b...>" started agent K in response, before virtually jumping out of his skin. 


Two men, in hoodies and joggers, entered the Lobby. 


Both were tall, over six foot, and had massive bodies. Despite their loose fitting garments, their bodies were clearly constucted from muscle rather than fat. And a lot of it. Huge arms and legs moved towards Sergeant K. 


"<You are coming with us>" they said as they marched to either side. One gave Erick a hard stare. Their faces were broad, square, clean shaven. A burning intensity, a singular purpose, lit their eyes and clenched their jaws. 


Each man took K by an elbow in what was clearly a grip of iron. 


"<Tell the American to leave, or we break you arms, and still take you with us>" they whispered to K in grim tones. 

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Erick crossed his arms as the hooded thugs each took to one of Sergeant K's arms.    They clearly didn't know that he could understand the discussion clearly.  Information that he wasn't about to give up too easily.  <"Nostrovia">  Foreshadow called out the well known russian toast as he stumbled forward into the men.  Pretending to be slightly inebriated and more importantly attempting to reach out and pull away at their hoods as their arms were otherwise occupied with the whole imposing arm crushing thing they were doing.  Erick's plan of action was to attract as much attention as he could to them.  A whole lot of 'ah' noises, tongue sticking out and loud rasping escaping his lips just for that purpose.


They were bold with their blatant attempt at snatching Sergeant K out in the open.  But he would be they weren't going to be fond of actually being noticed.  Being a wealthy well known figure helped to that aim.  The situation could lead to questions that they didn't want asked.  When it came down to it Erick could be impertinent if need be.  So interrupting their planned outing had its own sense of mischievous enjoyment.  He wasn't aiming to start a fight a with the muscle clad men, but if his options slipped away even with the crowd outside, he had no qualms about ending one. 

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The curses of the two men where crisp, blunt, and unrepeatable. For his clumsy stagger and perilous performance, Erick recieved more than one elbow in his chest, but nothing he couldn't take. There was no doubting the strength and muscle of these two men, though. Erick could feel their power. 


The lobby erupted. Some watched the show, some took photographs, and many backed away. Erick could see the stuffy and snobby doorman rush in, his scowl evaporating when he saw the more intimidating men. He could the receptionist pluck up his phone and say something about security...


...clearly without need. Two burly security guards - and good ones, too, given the class of the Lobby, arrived, although they slowed pace when they saw what was happening, doubt and maybe fear in their eyes. 


Sergeant K collapsed to his knees, bruised and scared. "<Good thinking...>" he mumbled at Erick, fear gripping him, and with eyes locked on the American like he was a life jacket. 

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Dee had just entered the lobby of the Emerald Hotel when some sort of disturbance began off to one side that drew the attention of everyone in the lobby (if not the entire hotel). Two huge men were in some sort of scuffle with two other men. One of those other two was someone Dee recognized, a gymnast originally from Russia that had moved the United States. He appeared to be acting inebriated, but Dee was not certain that he actually was.

Two of the hotel security had moved towards the scene, but seemed hesitant for some reason. From behind her sunglasses, the Englishwoman focused on one of the two large figures that appeared to be trying to drag the other man out of the hotel. Reaching out with her mental abilities, Dee pushed into the man's mind, taking control of it.

<"We are attracting too much attention. Best to just leave."> The man said at Dee's direction, halting his attempts to drag the other man away and instead tugging on the arm of his friend while taking a step towards the exit.

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As Dee entered the man's mind, she felt something. It was not slow, or damaged. But it felt like a rail cart, totally devoted, with singular purpose, to the task in hand. Steering it away was a feat of intellectual dexterity and forceful effort. 


The second man hardly noticed the pull of the first. He might have seem surprised, if his focus was not entirely on agent K. 


"<That is not the mission. That is not the mission. That is not the mission>" he replied, resolutely, without looking at his partner. 


Within moments, the two had devolved into a fracas. Arms flailed, pulled this way and that, and before Dee could react, the situation exploded. The two men, one controlled by Dee, the other not, alonside agent K, fell to the floor in a knot of limbs, spinning like a maniac octopus. 


"<"Help>" shouted Sergeant K as he got dragged down by the man not controlled by Dee. His reward for such a plea was an accidental knee in the face. There was a sharp crunch as his nose broke. 

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Erick didn't quite expect the muscle bound brutes in front of him to have the good sense to back away that quickly.  But as he heard them discuss the possibility, he had to wonder if his acting chops were better than he originally envisioned.  Of course he couldn't just give up the act right then and there.  Luckily he didn't have to resort to regurgitating his lunch.  So that much was a positive.


And then the chaotic scene began to unfold in front of him.  Erick wanted to avoid slugging it out in the immediate vicinity.  To avoid more capable thugs being sent out in the future to recover Agent K.  Winding his leg back, he swung his foot aiming to smack the assailant holding Agent K right in the face.  Hopefully forcing him to let go.  If the soccer kick connected and worked to the degree he wanted, he could pull the man out and they could make their getaway.  Hopefully Alaina already checked him into his room and he only needed to recover the key.


Such fanatic devotion to their task wasn't likely to be put to a stop easily.  But seeing as the men were partly fighting amongst themselves at the moment he wasn't going to worry about that yet.

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The man blocked Ericks mighty kick with his face. 


His jaw sprang back, like a hinge, and the man was almost lifted off his feet, despite his great strength. He went up, then down again like a sack of potatoes, which, given his mighty build was something of an achievement. 


Even down, he was not out, just with glazed eyes and a devout mission in his mind. 


"<Retrieve target. Retrieve target. Retreive target...>" he mumbled, his voice low, his eyes blank. 


Sergeant K jumped to his feet and scuttled behind Erick. 


"<See? See? They are all after me! You gotta protect me! These guys are part of the olympic team! They are gonna silence me for good! Help! Help!>" he jibbered. The man was not a coward, but given the impressive frame of the men, and their apparent merciless devotion to their mission, his panic was not entirely unreasonable. 

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Dee moved over near some of the other bystanders in the lobby, doing her best to just be part of the crowd. She still was not quite sure what this was all about, but given what she had encountered in the mind of the man she was currently controlling and the reaction of his companion, she was sure there something odd going on, and the two large figures were at the center of it.

When the target of the large pair was knocked loose by a well placed kick, the Englishwoman took the opportunity to have the man she was mind controlling start to pull his companion away from the scene and back towards the exit. Hopefully the other would be in shape to resist much, although she wondered once they were clear and she released her control whether they would revert right back to trying to complete their objective.

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<"You're not kidding.  It's like watching a bad zombie movie.">  That level of determination would have been worth praising, if it didn't come off as some sort of brainwashed programming.  Instead he found himself feeling a sort of sympathy for the musclebound thugs wanting to capture Agent K.  Well as much sympathy as Erick could afford having taken his share of the elbows sent to his chest.  Erick was tough, but when it came to a pound for pound exchange they had the weight advantage that much was certain.  Of course doped up Olympians or not the human body still had some structural weakness and Erick would gladly take advantage of those come fighting time.  But enough of a commotion had been stirred that he didn't have to add that to his list.


<"Come let us retreat.  Live to fight another day as they say.">  Calling out to Agent K and waving him over Erick's head snapped up to the security guards.  One was punch drunk but still after his quarry.  The other seemed to be violently opposed to the idea of pursuing K further.  It was the very definition of a mess.  One that needed cleaning up after.  Moving from drunk to agitated paying customer of the establishment Erick barked out in a demanding tone.  Now that he was certain a half there punch drunk thug and one who had suddenly gone crazy with caution wouldn't provide trouble for the staff.  <"What are you paid to sit around?  They need to be removed now.">

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There seemed to be an internal debate amongs the Emerald Security Staff. They were good, and well paid. However the men looked mighty strong. In essence, they had to do something, but they seemed to drag their feet in the hopes that the men had punched each others lights out before they waded in and required dental work. 


Ericks snap brought them to focus. Tasers drawn, they marched up and adminstered a number of zaps to both men, who it seemed had ox like stamina. But eventually they were detained, and dragged off premises to the police. 


"<Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologise for the minor inconvenience>"  said the reception manager, both in English and in Russian. "<There is no cause to be alarmed. Our security staff have attended to the matter>" he smiled his way through the shock of the guests, who started to calm down. He also cast an eye of Erick, K, and even Dee, who had just entered. 


"<Hmph, They only care about their wallets and takings>" whispered K to Erik. "<They probably want to throw me out onto the stre...>"


"<Excuse me, sirs>" interrupted the manager, a voice all silk and steel. "<Do you have a reservation? May I see? Unfortunately due to the recent incident, I must ask anyone without a reservation to leave. I don't want to throw you out onto the street haha>" he unjoked, giving a glance at K. 

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Dee kept the athlete she was mind controlling focused on restraining his companion, making the security guards' job easier when they finally had decided to act.  Once the athlete was subdued, she released her hold on his mind.  Having spent a bit of time in the man's mind, and having seen his companion's behavior, the Englishwoman was rather certain that some sort of brainwashing had taken place on both men.


When the reception manager came forward and spoke up, mentioning that anyone without a reservation had to leave the hotel, and including a pointed look at her while he spoke, Dee simply returned his look with a fierce glare, challenging him to try to throw her out.  She then made her way over towards the reception desk, setting her passport down on the counter.


"You have a reservation for me, under Farrington."  She said in English, her refined British accent unmistakable. 

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Erick looked at the young woman glaring at the manager.  Her introduction alone was enough to draw a connection from his memory just as to who she was.  The infamous daughter of Lord Farrington and all around favorite subject of many a UK tabloid.  Erick tried to keep himself in the know when it came to people in his tax bracket.  Especially attractive troublemakers.  Being able to hide in plain sight by making connections or drawing a staged photo op in his direction were potential situations to strengthen his secret identity.  And he may have just been a wee bit of a pop culture lover.  But that was all unimportant at the moment especially with Sergeant K practically in tears thanks to how frightened he was.


Erick reached for his own identification.  "Yes, I have a set of adjoining rooms in my name.  Erick Sloane, I believe my travelling companions have already checked in for me.  And you would do well to no longer sneer at Seargent Kazakov"  Stopping to point out Sergeant K's direction.  Not taking kindly to the look the man was getting while he was standing there terrified.  "My associate here is my personal security while I'm in your lovely city.  And before you give me the run around of your staff being adequate.  Let me point out how long it took for your men to respond while I was under threat of harm.  It would be unfortunate if I had to spread the word about the Emerald City having a less than desirable quality to it to all my wealthy confidantes."  Erick knew how to play the game well enough to recognize the importance of word of mouth in high end service jobs.  He didn't have to name drop to know a manager wasn't about to give up potential clients even before anyone had mentioned future reservations.  

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