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Genevieve's imagines the extraction and what happens after

Genevieve's Office

April 9th, 2013

Genny paces the floor to her office. The door has been closed and locked behind her. Her multitude of computer screens flicker with information randomly being sifted through and catalogued. Despite having - hopefully - found the solution to her longest mission, old habits die hard. Who knows, this could have been a ruse by the Russians to lure anyone they thought to be on their trail out into the open. It could be—-

“Stop it Genny,” the woman tells herself, shaking her head. For once, she didn’t bake anything this morning. No muffins, no chocolate chip cookies, no cupcakes. Her mind is too full with plans and ideas of what next. All this time she has searched for Martin Shaw, convinced he was still alive and under Russian captivity. Everyone told her how naive and silly she was. And now…now there is a team headed out under information she tracked down.

She imagines the agents - all wearing black with masks over their faces - infiltrating through air vents and coming around corners, subduing and tossing in knockout gas. Russians collapse to the ground limp (but still alive).

They find Shaw in a jail cell somewhere in the basement. While he has obviously been through quite an ordeal he has somehow managed to remain only superficially dirty. He has long hair and a beard, but they seem to be surprisingly well kempt. After blasting through the bars, everyone escapes the sterile metallic halls. He’ll be taken to a hospital, naturally, and treated for whatever malnourishment and wounds he received while captured.

Afterward, Genny isn’t quite sure what he’ll do. Come back to service? Perhaps. She’s read his record - it’s impressive. Giving up a life that he’s excelled in for many years wouldn’t be easy. However, he had been held hostage for years. He might retire. Or, at least, take a long leave of absence. It wouldn’t be hard to find out where he settled for his recuperation. She found his secret, multiple code clearance hideaway, she could find his tastefully decorated flat in Glasgow - no Spain - no Paris. And it wouldn’t be a huge breach of privacy. She would just want to make sure he’s okay. Finally see what he looks like, what he’s like, what his favorite type of bread for a sandwich is.

Of course, he’s a well trained agent. Years in captivity wouldn’t take that away from him. He’d notice her trying to keep tabs on him and confront her. She’d explain - tell him everything. She’s a fast talker, she could convince him she was telling the truth. They’d take the conversation elsewhere - it’s too long of a story to talk about in an alleyway somewhere. Finally, she would be able to tell him about stumbling across anomalies in his case and databases she would hack for practice. Then, the research, the code words, the endless searches. This man was alive, she was sure of it, but no one would listen.

Martin would, though. He’d listen to her whole story. A bottle of wine might appear, but she’d be too nervous to actually drink it. In fact, she’d stare at the label, explaining how - strangely enough - a name of a brand of wine was the last tip she needed to find him. And once her story is done, she’ll tell him that should he need anything, he can depend on her.

He wouldn’t want to talk about his ordeal and Genny will understand. Instead, she’ll bake for him. She’s already making a list of things to bake: creme brulee, home baked pretzels, chocolate chip cookies, sourdough bread. She’ll leave them on his doorstep in brightly colored tins and boxes tied with kitchen string. And, eventually, he’ll open up. They’ll go to dinner, there will be moonlit walks on over bridges, possibly a train ride. French films always involve a train at some point. She will be the woman who found Martin Shaw, the one who helped rescued him, the one who helped healed him. And he’ll be perfect. Damaged, but perfect. They would make quite a pair, wouldn’t they? They would. She knows they would.

The phone rings.

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