Sov Gott

Careful

"How is he doing? We need him alive, Cardinal," said a woman that sat in an important chair at an important desk, leaning back into soft leather. The phone was gripped in a hand that was perfectly smooth with fingers that were tipped with a dark blue nail polish. "Yes. I know. Not now. Remember, we've moved past purely physical aspects. It needs to be mental as well. Hold on, hold on, The Crow's cutting in." With pursed lips, she extended the phone from her face, selecting a button to push and returning the telephone to her ear. The hand that was not clutching the phone tightened and loosened on the armrest casually as she listened, but suddenly froze upon hearing a key word. "I... I see." Her free hand tightened on the armrest, each finger digging into the plush leather with an equally driving force. Suddenly she threw the phone down on the receiver, running her hand through her long, auburn hair.

A man, presumably her husband, walked into the room. He held two coffee mugs, sipping from one and extending the other to the woman. She took it without uttering a word, blowing away the steam that floated off its surface. "You look upset," he observed, leaning against a filing cabinet and drinking more of his coffee.

"How remarkable for you to notice," she retorted, her voice distinctively harsh and cold. She returned to her position of leaning back in the chair, the black leather stretching to contain her. "Falcon's dead," she said plainly, staring into her mug without any display of grief other than that which was for her wallet.

"Great. He wasn't our best shot, but he'll be hard to replace." The man shook his head, shifting his line of focus to the screens atop the desk. "What've we got here, Eagle?"

"Data. Lots of it. A summary of their lives, all their secrets. More or less, at least. We've gone back into our old history books to find sensitive material for them. For the Danish one we've found that mentioning things he regrets is sufficient enough material for his sessions. The Norwegian is new, though with some research, similar tactics could be used for his sessions as well. We've been able to conclude that they are... well, they're who they say they are."

"Which means that we have power."

"We have considerable power, my dear."

"We have Denmark. And Norway. And there are others like them."

"Why, yes. That's quite correct."

"So in other words..."

"We can alter history. We can destroy them. If Denmark collapsed we could take over," the woman that had been termed Eagle said.

"Or we could blackmail the Danish government. Ransom him, you know?"

"There are hundreds of possibilities, Hawk. But we have to stay careful. They'll catch us if we aren't."

"The police are nowhere close to catching us," the Hawk reminded his partner, but alas the Eagle only scoffed.

"The police could be as far away as Timbuktu, for all I care. The world is my backyard, and no matter how great the distance I will never be far enough from their chase." Her eyes were piercing as she stared at the Hawk, her husband. "Either way, our two are inside this building." She drank deeply from her mug of coffee, her lips twisted into a barely visible scowl.

The Hawk raised an eyebrow, smiling slyly at his wife. "Oh yes, our guest rooms are finally being put to use."

"Do you wish to visit them?" The Eagle asked her husband, setting the mug of coffee down and swiftly pulling her hair into a ponytail. "I believe that they've been rather consumed by pleasant dreams, so you wouldn't get to meet them," she admitted, tilting her head to one side in consideration, "but you would see them."