Post #1617800 in Branded: What if?, a roleplay on RPG

The president paced in the oval office, his cigar twirling in his fingers. His aide fidgeted in her chair, rearranging the papers in her lap with uncertainty. "Sir, we need to make a decision."

President Johnson sighed and rubbed his head, watching the rain hit the window for a moment before turning to his aide, "I know." He chewed on the unlit cigar and took a seat, breathing in the recycled air within the office. "Tell Interpol not to act yet. We need to wait. And tell them that they should go through the defense department next time. As much as I love them, I am not in charge of our agents."

His aide nodded and stood up, "Yessir. Will do."

He sighed again and took a long drag from a glass filled with unknown substance.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Brantley breathed out and watched the cloud of white form in front of his chapped lips. He stepped out onto the snow and shook his head as snow fell around him. Wrapping his thick coat closer, he marched to his car and flipped it on, letting the heat flood the car. He flipped open his phone and hit his speed dial number one. It rang twice before a crisp voice answered on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Marcus. It's Panther."

"Red marshes?"

"Only where the red fern grows."

"Good to hear from you, Panther."

"Same to you. I spoke with the mark, she's going to give us the information, but she wants immunity."

"Dammit. I knew it. Alright, we need to get her to the states. As soon as possible."

"I'll get it set up."

He flicked the phone shut and began driving away from the icy building towards his house within the desolate Russian landscape. The miles flicked by and he hummed quietly to himself until he drove into the driveway. He turned the car off and headed into his house, yawning as he stepped through the threshold. With little thought he went through the motions of putting his briefcase and phone up, getting out of his tiresome work clothes, and lighting a fire. He soon found himself next to fire place with a cup of tea in his hand, wrapped in a small blanket to hold in any warmth.

He took a sip of his tea and stared into the fire. It had been a long day and he needed the rest he was partaking in. His cat jumped into his lap and curled up. The spy life wasn't as glamorous as it seemed, but it had it's perks. With a sigh he closed his eyes and set his tea down, hoping to catch a nap before his next meeting.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Lindsey watched as the people walked past her position on the park bench outside the CIA office in D.C. She pulled her bangs behind her ear as she waited. A man, clad in more black than was necessary, approached the bench and sat down. In a cliche exchange, she obtained a half a sandwich, a new joke, and her next assignment.

She stood up and walked in the direction of her car. With ease, she got in, turned it on, and began driving in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. She stopped in front of the coffee shop and got out. Her eyes scanned the parking lot as she made her way through the door and to the counter. Two coffees and a confused teenager later, she sat at a particularly shady table in the corner of the dimly lit room.

A man with shockingly blonde hair sat down across from her, accepting the drink she offered him, sipping it quietly.

"Monsieur, it's a pleasure."

"C'est. J'aime cafe, oui!" His French accent was evident, even more so when he spoke next, "It seems you have found my weak spot, beautiful coffee. Yes, it's absolutely wonderful." He drank quite heavily from the coffee now, continuing, "I suppose you'll be wanting what you truly came for, not just my odd conversation."

She laughed and sipped her own drink, "Yes, I suppose I will."

He passed her a backpack that he'd been carrying in his hand and smiled, "That's all you wanted, and more than you'll ever need. I hope you understand what you're getting into."

Lindsey picked the backpack up with care, smiling, "I understand quite well and it gives me great excitement."

Eyeing her, he stood up, taking his coffee, "We should do this another time. But not on business, on pleasure." He smiled, "We French, vous aimez pleasure, non?" He laughed and turned, leaving.

She almost hugged the backpack as she walked out, taking her coffee and the scent of adventure with her.

Snippet #1617800

located in 1968, a part of Branded: What if?, one of the many universes on RPG.

Setting

Characters Present

Footnotes