80330.21
Following Tears of the Prophets
-=New York City, Earth=-
Avery circled his destination several times along the outside perimeter before attempting to enter the building.
It was an old habit, one that cost him a little in terms of time and convenience but one that had paid off often enough in the past that he still chose to employ it in a situation like this one.
Observing from the shadows, O'Sullivan watched and as Avery rounded the back of the building, and took that opportunity to walk into the establishment through the front door.
Now sitting in the corner booth farthest away from the bar, Keiran waited for the waitress to return with his Guinness. He tilted the glass slowly to his lips and took several swallows before setting it down once again.
The hood of his jacket hid his face, the dim lighting helped as well and what could be more natural, he thought, than an Irish human male in a place like McSorley's enjoying a pint?
*****
Breaux, certain he hadn't been followed, confidently made his way into McSorley's and was immediately seen by the bar staff...the ancient decor, complete with sawdust on the floor, brought a smile to his face. He threw a look over his shoulder toward the door as he took a seat at one of the bar stools.
Seamus immediately placed a napkin in front of Avery and began drawing a beer, "Good to see you lad...it's been longer than I'd hoped! You've just missed Angela I'm afraid."
Breaux's mind began running through the scenarios...
Seamus continued, "So no doubt you'll be makin' short work of this fine elixir." He set the elongated glass with rich, dark brown liquid down on the napkin. Avery nodded, and began working on the beer, dabbing at the bar top with the napkin. As he worked the napkin, Breaux saw that an 'R' had been written in one corner on the backside of the napkin.
*Russian Tea Room* Avery thought. He took another sip and then yet another. Breaux asked about several of the regulars that drop in and caught up with Seamus. Breaux found himself missing simpler times on shore leave from the Erasmus.
Avery said his goodbyes, and soon made his way toward the front of the bar, scrutinizing patrons as he walked toward the front of the establishment. Once outside, he quickly made his way uptown to the Russian Tea Room.
Keiran allowed Avery a head start, not wanting to attract any attention for leaving right after he did since he was apparently well known to the man behind the bar.
Stealthily, he activated his communications device. He had told Dane to transport separately after contacting Dalca and telling him to take the shuttle and meet them in New York, and he hoped that by now the boy had carried out his orders.
"Aodhan to Ethos,"
[Here,] Dane replied softly from his vantage point across the street.
"He's moving again. Follow him, and I'll be coming along soon."
The waitress, who had come to give O'Sullivan his check, caught the last sentence and tried to mask her worry.
O'Sullivan caught just a hint of panic in her eyes, and cursed himself internally. He'd gotten too careless.
"Another?" She asked nervously.
"No, thank ya, love. I'd like to, but I've got an appointment."
"Well, then, you best not be late," She replied, trying not to glare at him but at the same time, conveying her displeasure. "Ready to settle up?"
Keiran tossed several strips of latinum onto the table top- including a far too generous tip for her. "Have a lovely evening."
"Same to you." She said. As soon as he'd gone, she scooped up the money and headed toward Seamus.
"Is there a way you can send someone to wherever Avery was going?" She whispered hurriedly.
"I could." Seamus replied, "Why?"
"Because the tall, soft-spoken Irishman who just left was not here simply to enjoy a pint."
Seamus nodded, as the waitress went back to her chores...He was torn as to whether to send word to the Tea Room, or if Avery should know immediately in the event the stranger meant him harm along the way.
"Jasus, nothing is ever easy with those two," he bemoaned about Avery and Angela.
Seamus looked toward the supply room where his son was dutifully unloading case boxes and bringing bottles to the bar room. He put a hand on his son's shoulder, stopping his progress, "You know Avery is headed uptown, he's only just left...I forgot to give him a message, can you be a good lad and use those quick feet of yours and track him down...let him know 'it looks like rain afterall'.
His son, knowing his father's involvement in the Maquis, didn't give it a second thought and was out the back door in record time. Darting and dodging between the city-goers the boy had sight of Avery in no time-however, he did not see anyone following him.
The boy decided since he'd been in back and was not seen by anyone, he could 'bump' into Avery and make it look like a chance encounter, giving him an opportunity to pass along the message. He quickly moved across the crowded street and clipped Avery in the shoulder as the youth moved toward a door of an establishment. Breaux had only seen the lad at the last moment and reached out to steady both of them.
It was then that Avery recognized the boy, but didn't let on. The son took his cue perfectly, "Sorry sir...looks like rain...begging your pardon." The boy straightened Avery's jacket, smiled and continued into the business.
*Rain, good Gods* Avery's awareness was now heightened knowing he'd been followed, but had missed it. Then, of course, the next thought was that Angela might have been followed as well-no way to get word to her, he would have to make his way to the Russian Tea Room, and they would make their play from there.
****
Arriving at the Tea Room, he entered the familiar red storm doors that kept the cold out of the foyer to the restaurant.
He passed the booth that rested beneath an oversized golden clock that hung from the ceiling and made his way past the bright red booths toward Angela's figure, seated in a booth at the far end of the magnificent dining room. Avery took note of the many paintings that hung ceremoniously on the green walls
Avery stopped dead in his tracks-the woman awaiting him was somehow familiar, but it was not Angela Nolan.
Breaux wasn't carrying a weapon, but his right hand flinched instinctively, wanting to head toward inside his jacket. He calmed his hand.
Her eyes were fixed on him, and as Avery came to a halt, two Starfleet Security officers stepped from the side alcoves and faced him. It was then the woman spoke. It took him a moment to recognize her, as her appearance had been altered- and where her nose normally displayed the ridges characteristic of her people, it was now smooth, appearing human.
"Doctor Breaux," Lair Kellyn's blue eyes seemed even larger without the ridges between them. Avery noted the sadness in them as she gestured for him to sit down.
"I really wanted to believe that you weren't mixed up in this. That somehow, what I found was all a mistake," Kellyn gazed at him, wanting so much to believe this was only a bad dream. Somehow, she had to make him see what he had to do now, she had to help him.
She owed him so much.
"We may be joined by another of the Sera's crew soon, and he's going to be as surprised to see me as you are. But in the meantime, we have to talk, and talk quickly. Starfleet has authorized me to make a proposition to you."
Lt. Commander Avery Breaux
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
and
Lt. Commander Keiran O'Sullivan
Chief of Security
USS Serendipity NCC-2012