Atlanta - Break Out (Bastian/Brennan)

[Florian Raniari]

Sastre fidgeted with his suit and tie as the car pulled up in front of the prison.

He'd never felt particularly comfortable in a suit, but it was made even worse by the sling he still wore, even though his arm was fully healed and Brennan had given him a charm that created an illusion of a cast. The sling, though, served a purpose: he used it to hide a couple extra weapons that he might need, should Darian decide to make his move.

Looking over into the drivers' seat, he smiled lightly at Bastian. The young man had been true to his word, about backing Sastre up if he needed anything. A single call was all it had taken, and Bastian had arrived at their designated meeting place the next day. When Sastre had outlined his plan, the younger hunter had even thrown in an idea or two that would make the entire job easier.

Behind them, in the back seat, Brennan sat silently, dressed in the same stark black suits as Sastre and Bastian. The old hunter had never seen her so dressed, and he was impressed by the professional air she carried herself with. He'd come to truly love Brennan as a daughter these past few weeks, which was convenient, since she apparently was now in love with his actual daughter. Funny how things worked out like that...

Behind their car, a large, black prisoner-transfer van pulled up. Adams and Heath, a pair of hunters that Sastre had met while working some of Lily's jobs, were inside and ready for their part in this little scheme. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd come to like the two young hunters, and though neither of them were particularly great at the job, they had the potential to someday become quite skilled.

Not for the first time, Sastre ran through the plan once again in his mind. This first part would be the hardest, the part that they'd be most likely to be found out as the frauds that they were. But Sastre had called in a lot of favors, and he knew that the people behind the scenes that were helping with this were the best. If this plan didn't work, nothing would.

Toying around with his tie and sling one last time, he glanced at Bastian, and at Brennan.

"So," he asked, a wry smile on his face as he let his native accent color his words. "Are we ready for this?"

((TAG Brennan or Bastian!))

[bastian]

When Sastre had called saying he needed help Bastian packed his things and was quickly on his way. All he really knew was that they were breaking some guy out of jail. Sastre didn’t seem to want to divulge too many details. That was fine with Bastian. He had worked with Sastre before and the old man wouldn’t be doing this without a damn good reason. Bastian trusted him enough that the younger hunter didn’t need to know what those reasons were.After meeting up and being introduced to Brennan they went over the plan, and Bastian had to admit it was pretty solid. This Justin kid wasn’t far off from having his freedom. If Sastre was backing him then it was well deserved.

Bastian nodded when Sastre asked if he was ready. Hell it was just another con. Hunters were well versed in that aspect. It was all in playing the part. Bastian figured if he lived to the point where he couldn’t a hunter anymore that he’d make a damn fine living as an actor. He’d played so many roles in his life he figured the big screen would love him.

After everything that had recently happened, Bastian was actually looking forward to this job. His nerves were still strung out after everything that had happened to his sister and their family. He was worried about Simi, knowing she needed more help than she admitted. He just didn’t know how to give it to her, or if she even wanted it from him.

He smoothed out the monkey suit, squared his shoulders and wiped all the emotion from his face, adding to the role. Brennan, the woman he’d just recently met, looked sharp in her suit as well. If Bastian didn’t have Chey he’d contemplate hitting on her, but his play boy days were long gone. He loved Chey, and he wouldn’t be another guy that made her self esteem crumble.

“Let’s do this.”

[Abigail Faraday-Brennan]

Brennan sat gazing thoughtfully out the window, running through the plan one more time.

After weeks of planning, everything was finally coming to a conclusion. Good thing, too. After Madison’s last round of bruises, it was all Brennan could do to remain uninvolved. She trusted Sastre implicitly, and she believed him when he told her that the situation would be taken care of, but it had killed her to watch Madison continue to suffer. That was all over now, though. Well, provided this worked.

Brennan’s brow furrowed involuntarily, and she shifted uneasily in her seat. The plan was perfect. Ingenious, really. The story was sound, the hunter’s were reliable, and the papers were unassailable. So why did she have the lingering feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong?

Scowling in disgust, Brennan put aside her doubts and gathered her professional cool about her once more. It was unlike her to get jitters before a job, and she had her emotions under control again in short order. Whatever happened, there was no time for second guessing, no time for doubts. All that mattered was the job at hand. Anything else was a sure way to get yourself killed, and nothing more.

Meeting Sastre and Bastian’s eyes in turn, she nodded once.

”I’m ready.”

[Florian Raniari]

Nodding, Sastre stepped out of the car, adjusting his sling absently.

Turning to face the transport van, he gave a wave to Heath and Adams, indicating they should stay put for the time being. After making sure that Bastian and Brennan were following, Sastre took a deep breath and strode confidently and purposefully into the prison's main entrance.

"Good morning," he greeted the officer at the main desk, letting his accent tinge his words as he smiled at him warmly. Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew a badge, holding it up so the officer could see. "My name is Julien Lucas, and I am with French Interpol. These are my associates, from the FBI: Agents Miller"--he indicated Bastian--"and Browne," he finished, nodding toward Brennan. "We're here to speak with the warden about a prison transfer."

The officer at the desk furrowed his brow, flipping through several papers and clicking his tongue. "I don't have anything here about a transfer, Agent Lucas. We're usually informed of things like that beforehand..." He looked up, studying the three false agents closely before reaching for the phone. "I'll have to call for verification, of course."

Sastre smiled, nodding politely. "Yes, of course," he said, maintaining his smile and praying that the strain didn't show through. He knew that everything had been done to make this seem as official as possible, but if there was even a single mistake on the documents, now would be when they would be found. He prayed that everything worked out, and that Brennan and Bastian kept their cool if things went south.

[bastian]

Bastian stood just behind Sastre, shoulders squared, hands clasped in the front. Seriously he sort of felt like they were the Men In Black. At least he wasn’t wearing sunglasses. He listened attentively as Sastre talked to the officer. The man studied them for a moment, and Bastian’s expression never changed. He was calm as could be.

This wasn’t the first time he’d broken into a prison. For some odd reason he figured it wouldn’t be the last. If things went bad, they’d pull out and regroup though, he had confidence in himself and Sastre. Brennan, he didn’t know so well, but she carried herself with confidence as well. How things went here and now, would tell Bastian all he needed to know about Brennan’s character.

He didn’t bother to look at Sastre or Brennan. Fidgeting would draw attention to themselves, and not the good kind. They were here for a prisoner transfer. Nervous agents would raise eyebrows and make people think twice about what was happening. They would look harder at the details, dig deeper than they had too. As long as the paperwork went through, Bastian saw no reason that this shouldn’t go smoothly.

Unless of course whatever Sastre wasn’t telling him played a factor in this. He realized it probably did, but he also realized that if Sastre wasn’t telling Bastian, it was for a damn good reason. If anything went wrong, they’d be prepared. He watched as the officer hung up the phone, waiting to hear what he had to say.

[Abigail Faraday-Brennan]

Brennan stood opposite Bastian, mirroring his stance, an expression of bored indifference plastered carefully to her face.

She waited patiently for the desk officer to finish his call, taking the time to discretely map out what she could see of the prison’s main entrance. If all went well, there would be no need to utilize such information, but it never hurt to take stock of entrances, exits, and any potential tools or weapons. Finishing her survey, Brennan returned her gaze to the officer at the desk, feigning disinterest. Her earlier apprehension was nothing more than a memory, pushed to the back of her mind by the task at hand. Justin was all that mattered now.

Time stretched on, the seconds dragging slowly by as the officer spoke with the unseen “official” on the other end. Brennan supposed she should probably be more nervous than she was, but the documents really were impeccable. She knew for a fact that Kate, her number one contact in law enforcement, had personally overseen the crafting of these particular forgeries. Not that she would tell Sastre that. Let him believe that they had been contracted out to an unknown entity, rather than the enigmatic vampire. It was true that the hunter had been working to desensitize himself from killing any vampire on sight, but Brennan saw no reason to push the issue. What Sastre didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or Kate, for that matter.

Silently pulling in a deep breath and slowly letting it out again, Brennan settled in to wait, her eyes flicking to the officer as he finished his call and raised his eyes to the trio.

Here we go…

[Florian Raniari]

The desk officer hung up the phone.

"Alright, everything seems to check out Agent Lucas. Warden Sharpe will see you now. This way." The man stood up and gestured for them to follow him as he moved through a security checkpoint and through a heavy steel door. The group moved down a long, brightly lit corridor before the officer motioned for them to stop outside a door, upon which he knocked once. When bidden to enter, the man gestured for Sastre and the others to go in before he returned to his post.

Nodding once to Brennan and Bastian, Sastre entered what turned out to be the warden's office. Inside, behind a large, ornate desk, sat a distinguished-looking old man. He had the bearing of an ex-soldier rather than a former police-officer, though Sastre knew that, at times, there was little difference. The warden stood as they entered, and bid them take a seat in the chairs that were arranged in a semi-circle before his desk.

"Hello, Agents. I must admit, this sudden request of a transfer is most unusual... But you've been vouched for by several individuals very highly placed within your respective agencies." Warden Sharpe paused, looking at each of them intently. "Still, if you don't mind I would like a personal briefing on the situation."

Sastre nodded. "Of course, sir. I will be more than happy to go over everything with you, but I have to stress haste in this. We have reason to believe that people within the local law enforcement branch, and perhaps individuals here within your own prison, may be involved in our case. They will not want Justin McClain to live long enough to possibly testify against them. So, sir, with all due respect, I ask that while I am briefing you, you allow my associates here to begin the transfer."

"Surely you don't believe--" the warden began to protest before being cut off by Sastre.

"Let me cut to the chase here: I am not required to give you any explanation whatsoever. I am authorized to move this prisoner with or without your cooperation. So, what I am offering to you, I am offering out of common courtesy, is that understood? Agents Browne and Miller are going to begin the transfer, now. Perhaps I should have been more clear. I will stay and explain the situation to you, not because I have to, but because I choose to."

Warden Sharpe's face had turned a deep shade of red, but he simply nodded once, using the intercom on his desk to page an officer to escort the FBI Agents to McClain's cell. Once the officer had arrived, Sastre indicated with a nod of his head that Bastian and Brennan were to follow him, and once they were gone, he returned his attention to the warden, setting a thick manilla folder down on his desk.

"Shall we begin?"

[bastian]

If they were anywhere else a smirk would curled its way on Bastian’s lip from the way Sastre took hold of the situation, putting the warden in his place. It wasn’t that Bastian didn’t like cop’s persay, but some of them really did have too much of a power complex for their own good. It was nice to see them put in their place every now and again, especially considering that most of them had no idea what was really out there. Still, Bastian’s face remained stoic, not a hint of emotion on it, as he nodded back to Sastre and turned on his heel so that he and Brennan could follow the guard to McClain’s cell.

That name sounded familiar, and even as they walked through the rank hallways, the gears in Bastian’s mind were spinning. His gaze flicked to Brennan lightly, just to check and see if she were all right. She seemed to be holding her own and Bastian brought his gaze forward again, as they continued down the corridors. He absently wondered now if this guy were a hunter or a something along those lines. Of course if that was the case, the guy should have broken out of here a while ago.

When they got to the cell, Bastian pushed back his curiosity and focused on the task at hand. Get the guy out, if anything goes wrong and Bastian needed to know more, he’d ask. Best way to do things. It was better not to know things you weren’t supposed to. He watched as the man stood, wearing an orange jump suit. The look on his face was one of sheer surprise. This guy had no idea what was going on. Bastian hoped that didn’t complicate things.

[Abigail Faraday-Brennan]

Brennan heaved a mental sigh of relief as the desk officer accepted their credentials and led the trio deeper into the building. No time to let her guard down now, though. The papers had checked out, but now it was time for quick thinking and fast talking. The trick was to act like you belonged, no matter what. It was disturbing what you could convince people of as long as you sounded like you knew what you were talking about. It was all in the attitude. Relaxing, she strode confidently down the corridor, continuing to lay down a mental map as they progressed.

The brief encounter with the warden went smoothly, all things considered, and soon she and Bastian were on their way to the holding cells. Her male counterpart had performed admirably thus far, and she was glad that Sastre had chosen him. She’d heard her mother mention his mother, Lexi, in passing, and had always heard that the family was well respected. From what Lillian had told her, they knew what they were doing and could handle themselves. So far, the evidence was proving the rumors true.

Brennan kept tight control of her expression as they arrived at the holding cell and Justin stood, giving him a detached once over. She absently noted that he was still in pretty good shape, and that there was a definite family resemblance between him and his sister. Pushing these observations to the back of her mind, she turned to their escort.

“Alright, let’s get this man in some shackles,” she said, motioning toward the cell.

She waited, not having to feign impatience, as the officer secured Justin’s wrists and ankles. When the guard had finished, she laid one hand firmly on Justin’s arm and rested the other suggestively near her holster. Having no idea what the ex-cop’s reaction might be to the events unfolding, she stayed light on her feet, ready to react to whatever he might throw at her. She doubted he would try anything, but all the same, it would look pretty bad if she were taken out by the guy they were trying to save. Turning, she gestured toward the corridor down which they had come, keeping her voice cool and professional.

“If you’ll come with us, please, Mr. McClain.”

It was not a question.

[justin]

The stink of concrete and body odor from other cell mates who were not very hygienic was something that Justin was never going to get used to. It seemed an eternity that he’d been locked in this place. He knew it would be several more eternities before he ever got out. If he ever got out. Steven, the slimy-son-of-a-bitch-and-bastard had a hell of a lot of connections. Parole didn’t seem likely for Justin. Not with Steven’s pull.

Justin never once regretted what he did. That day when he walked in the hospital and saw Madison so broken and frail, saw her daughter die before his eyes, and then to have her wake up hysterical and tell him it was Steven. There hadn’t been a doubt in Justin’s mind. In fact it made sense, with the way she had been withdrawing before she’d become pregnant. Justin tried to figure it out, but she had been closed off. If he had noticed sooner, Justin would have figured out a better way for taking Steven out of the equation.

He scoffed at himself. Who the hell was he kidding? Justin still would have beat him into a coma, or until he was dead. Probably until he was dead. He just wouldn’t have done it on a hallway corridor where there were doctors and orderlies that had pulled Justin off of Steven. There were, unfortunately, a lot of witnesses that had testified against him.

Justin didn’t mind being in prison. It wasn’t exactly easy, but it was well worth the beating he had given that bastard. What he did mind was the fact that Steven was still roaming around out there, using his sister as a punching bag. Or at least he had been. Last time Madison had been there she’d told him that she was no longer seeing Steven. That she had a new man and new friends in her life. It had taken a weight off Justin’s shoulders, made him breathe a bit easier. He knew Steven would never hold up to his end of the bargain. He just wanted to own Madison.

Sleep had almost claimed Justin when the guard banged on his cell and Justin stood up. He knew the drill. What he didn’t know was why there were two people, a man and woman standing with the guard outside his cell. A man and woman both with no nonsense looks about them. Justin’s brow wrinkled in confusion.

His gaze flicked to the woman when she ordered the guard to put shackles on him, his gaze curious and confused. What the hell was going on? Had Madison come forward about Steven? Even if she had the likelihood that anything would be done about it was slim unless she found the right person. Had Steven set something up for Justin to be taken out of the picture permanently? The gears in his mind began spinning with possible scenarios as he was shackled.

At the moment, he could only follow them, as the woman had ordered. If something was about to happen though, Justin would be ready. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight and he sure as well wasn’t about to let his baby sister feel more guilty than she already did. He gave a curt nod, and stepped out of his cell, shackles holding his feet together so he could only take small steps. “What exactly is going on?” He directed his question to the people in the suit as he was led down the corridor.