With an ending sound that is nearly a snarl, he thrusts the pages at her. The coughing has left him slightly paler from pain, and he's quick to reach for his refilled cup. The Shadow settles back in his seat wearily, with all the air of a man defeated.
"No..." He takes a swallow of tea, wheezing as he recovers. "No. This is more important than my ego." His tone shows a hint of bitterness, but it's quick to fade. In the grander scheme of things, he is overcoming his pride for the sake of the work, which he recognizes as bigger than himself. There is no failure here, even if he may see it as such.
"It's just spy work, but it's... very risky spywork. I need you to listen, and use a recording device." She may be quite impressed when she sees how tiny recording devices have become. "Just collect as much information as you can, hopefully some of it about the move. I'll get it into the hands of the police. But... it's not an easy place to get into, and things could go sour." In the pages he's given her are profiles of several men, two of whom seem to have pre-existing police records, and photos of a warehouse district from above, as if taken by plane. There is a sheet of thin plastic overlaying the photos, with various notes drawn on them, mapping out the probable interior layout. Evidently he's not quite sure which of three buildings it is, and has had to make educated guesses at the insides. Being unable to visit firsthand has robbed him of the thoroughness of research he'd like.
The Shadow watches her from over his tea, still catching his breath. His expression is almost sullen, and the dim interior lighting throws stark shadows across his features. He is a brooding, unhappy figure.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2009-07-09 11:25 pm (UTC)"No..." He takes a swallow of tea, wheezing as he recovers. "No. This is more important than my ego." His tone shows a hint of bitterness, but it's quick to fade. In the grander scheme of things, he is overcoming his pride for the sake of the work, which he recognizes as bigger than himself. There is no failure here, even if he may see it as such.
"It's just spy work, but it's... very risky spywork. I need you to listen, and use a recording device." She may be quite impressed when she sees how tiny recording devices have become. "Just collect as much information as you can, hopefully some of it about the move. I'll get it into the hands of the police. But... it's not an easy place to get into, and things could go sour." In the pages he's given her are profiles of several men, two of whom seem to have pre-existing police records, and photos of a warehouse district from above, as if taken by plane. There is a sheet of thin plastic overlaying the photos, with various notes drawn on them, mapping out the probable interior layout. Evidently he's not quite sure which of three buildings it is, and has had to make educated guesses at the insides. Being unable to visit firsthand has robbed him of the thoroughness of research he'd like.
The Shadow watches her from over his tea, still catching his breath. His expression is almost sullen, and the dim interior lighting throws stark shadows across his features. He is a brooding, unhappy figure.