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Thomas ground his forehead into the coarse texture of the aged brick. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the toes of two shoes digging into either of his shoulders. In retrospect, he should really have made Nadia take them off before climbing up to listen at the window. Still, it had been a chore in itself to get her upright and balanced; she had flatly refused to come down without overhearing the entire conversation going on inside room sixteen. He couldn't hear a damned thing, but she kept whispering to herself about some 'Pasta-jacket' and craning herself to get nearer to the window; which was excruciatingly distracting, in all honesty. When she finally signalled that he could put her down, it was all he could do to keep himself from dropping her.
Leaning his back against the wall, he massaged his shoulders gingerly, wincing as his fingers made contact with the dents in his skin. "So?"
Nadia paced before him, apparently oblivious to his discomfort while gathering her thoughts. Fishing a notepad and pencil out of her camera-bag, she took up a spot beside him up against the wall. "Pasta-jacket Jason wasn't supposed to be alone when he cornered me in the alley."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "...The hell kind of a nickname is Pasta-jacket Jason?"
His off-topic question prompted a sigh and Nadia gave him an exasperated look. "Oh hush you, just stand there and listen. Now then; Pasta-jacket was supposed to have someone looking out for him when he cornered me. Some... I don't know, he sounded sort of like a hit-man or mercenary. Mr. Black. Obviously an alias, but it's something to go on at least. They didn't say why they needed to keep me from asking questions, but it seems they were pretty keen on it."
He watched her jotting this down as she spoke. "All right, so can we get out of here now? We can look for clues on Black's true identity from somewhere a little safer, can't we?"
She frowned at him again, resuming her pacing. "No! The man Pasta-jacket was talking to, this 'Tyrone' guy said something about where Black was supposed to be during my almost-mugging. A rooftop nearby. He might have left something there."
Thomas fidgeted at the idea of hunting for some hit man’s things on a rooftop. "Nadia, look, I get that this story is important to you, but there is no way that rooftop is empty right now. If this Tyrone is pissed at the mercenary for not showing up, he'll have men all over it."
She paused in mid-stride, looking a little sheepish. "Oh. Yes, he may have said something about that being the case."
Thomas smiled in relief. "Right, so, we have to wait until they're gone, at least. We can at least ask around about his name and get some more information on who we're dealing with in the meantime. We don't have to just sit on our backsides and do nothing."
Nadia poked the raw patch on his forehead with one finger, making him wince. "You're patronizing me, but you're right. Fine, we'll go back to my apartment and see what we can find out from there."
He held up his hands in mock-surrender. "That's all I ask!" Seeming satisfied, she withdrew her finger, just in time for him to pick up on part of what she had said. "Wait... we're going to go back to your place? Why do you keep including me in this?"
She grinned. "Hey, you're a volunteer, you can leave anytime you like. But could you really live with yourself if you read in the papers that a talented journalist-to-be had come to an untimely end?"
He shook his head in amazement as she walked on ahead of him. He had to admit there was a certain charm in her saucy personality, there was no way he could deny it. Still, her naiveté was going to get her into trouble and he had the feeling she knew it; accepted it, even. The fact that she trusted him enough to make him the one to help keep her out of that trouble made him feel both honoured and frustrated. Sighing, he followed after her with a reluctant smile crawling over his mouth.
The pair found their way to the nearest gas station to locate and make use of a phone. It was approaching evening and their second trip by cab was dominated by the orange-tones and reflexive squinting that comes along with the setting sun, along with a healthy dose of rush hour traffic. Fortunately, they weren't going far by cab. Arriving at their destination, specifically Nadia's light blue Prius, they climbed out of the dark blue car they had been riding in and got into the lighter-toned vehicle. Thomas settled into the passenger side and Nadia almost sighed in relief as she turned the steering wheel in the direction of home.
As she drove, her thoughts turned to what she had to do when she got to her computer. The odds of Mr. Black’s name turning up anything were slim to none and she wasn't expecting to get anywhere that way. No... This was going to take time and research. Two things she didn't have patience for right now, what with her big story dangling just in front of her. She smiled smugly as a better alternative occurred to her.
"Thomas, would you mind getting my cellphone out of my purse for me, please?"
He blinked, turning from the window to look at her. "Uh, sure, but I'll feel a little weird going through a lady's things."
Nadia rolled her eyes. "I would do it myself, but my hands are kind of full. Don't worry about it; there isn't anything embarrassing in there to offend your male sensibilities."
Thomas retrieved the bag in question from the floor between them and found her mobile as quickly as he could. Normally she would find his bashful behaviour over this amusing, but just now she was more interested in making her phone call.
"All right, good. Now, under my contacts, find my father's number and hold it up to my ear so I can speak to him."
He stared at her, incredulously. "You can't be serious. What, you don't have a headset?"
Nadia didn't so much as bat an eye. "I'm quite serious. I've got savings, but I'm not going to spend my money on anything I don't need to. I know you've done a lot for me today, but this is the last favour, I promise. Now c'mon, help me out here!"
Thomas sighed, but did as he was asked. Nadia drummed her fingers against the wheel as the phone rang. She smiled as she heard the line being picked up and her father's voice answering in his usual business-like tones.
"Lawson residence."
"Daddy, it’s Nadia. You will not believe the day I've had."
"Is anything wrong, sweetheart?" She smiled again at the concern in his voice.
"It almost was, but it's all turned around now. I'll give you the details properly as soon as I've had some time to relax and get everything straight in my head. I'm calling to ask you for a big favour."
"Sure enough. Shoot. Oh, wait, hang on." She heard him cover the phone and the muffled sounds of him talking to her mother. "Your mother wants me to remind you that if you don't call and tell us what happened... yes, Dear... what almost happened, we'll just call you until you do."
Nadia laughed. "Yes, Daddy, I know. Now, are you listening? I want you to get in touch with your friends and contacts from the office to find out everything they know about a man going by the alias 'Mr. Black'. He's based locally, at least at the moment, so hopefully that makes it a little easier."
There was a pause and she could picture her father taking his pen and pad out of the pocket where he always had them. "Mr. Black? What sort of work does he do, if I might ask? That should help me narrow it down more than the name would."
"He's a mercenary of some kind, usually hired by organized crime, that sort of thing."
This triggered a second pause. "Sweet Pea, do I even want to know how you got this name?"
She smiled innocently, somewhat glad that her father couldn't see the expression. "No, I don't think you do. It's part of the story though, so don't worry, you'll find out anyway."
Her father sighed. "All right, all right. I'll put my ear to the ground and get back to you in the morning."
"Thank you Daddy. Tell Mom not to worry, I've got someone looking out for me on this one. I love you both and talk to you in the morning."
"We love you, too, Nadia. Take care of yourself and... wait, did you say you had someone with you? Someone as in a boy someone?"
She giggled. "Goodnight, Daddy."
/> Hanging up the phone and putting it back in her purse, Thomas settled back in his seat. "You sound close to your father."
Nadia smiled. "To both of them, actually. Daddy's been a journalist since before I was born, so if anyone can help us out, it's him."
"And your mother?"
"She's a retired police officer. That's how they met, actually. Daddy had been doing a report on some of the criminals the Ottawa Police Department had arrested and the department's usual liaison had called in sick. Mom was asked to fill in at the last minute and ended up having to answer questions right up until her shift ended. Once she was off-duty, she couldn't answer any further questions about the case, so Daddy asked her to dinner instead." Nadia smiled softly. She had heard the story many times and as far as she was concerned it was just as romantic as anything she had seen in the movies.
He smiled. "That's good. That you're so close, I mean."
Thomas went quiet after that, looking back through the window at the scenery passing them by. Nadia glanced his way, curious, but her attention was drawn to the road as the turn in to her apartment approached. Easing the car into her space, she turned off the engine and got out, making sure to snag her purse from the floor. Thomas got out of the opposite side; taking a moment to get his bearings. The area was much less busy than the downtown streets had been, though the hour likely had more to do with that than anything else. The apartment was a vertical rectangular prism of white concrete and, judging by its clean surfaces, seemed fairly new. The area itself had grass along the sidewalks, though that wasn't particularly strange in the capital. Looking down the street, Thomas could just make out a large shopping centre, as well, with the city's transit system's red signs indicating some kind of a main station on its far side; he resolved to get a better look at it from Nadia's apartment, if it faced the right way.
Nadia let them in and found herself studying her new acquaintance as they rode the elevator up to the tenth floor. She had not had very much time to stop and think during the day's whirlwind of activity, but she realized she knew very little about Thomas. Some part of her took a moment to marvel at how she was not even remotely concerned about bringing him up into her apartment, but she pushed this aside; for one, he had helped her a lot today, and for another, he was a bit of a mouse. She seriously doubted that he had any real violence in him at all. Certainly, his silence in the car after talking about family had raised a few questions in her mind, but she did not want to pry so soon. She decided to ask him once the opportunity presented itself. For now, though, she intended to see to the rumbling in her stomach. Judging by the sounds coming from Thomas' own midsection, he would appreciate a large pizza as much as she knew she would.