Zoë Fox | ♠ Eight of Spades ♠ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
headfollowheart) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wickerpark2019-03-27 09:19 am
headfollowheart) wrote in wickerpark2019-03-27 09:19 am
Entry tags:
it's so easy when you know the rules | Victor + Zoe
Georgios Kattalakis wasn't strictly speaking fond of the idea of sending his twenty year old daughter - not even old enough to purchase firearms legally in a few places - to meet a new contact, but occasionally it was unavoidable. And for all she projected the air of innocence that was invaluable to keeping certain authorities off their scent, Zoe enjoyed it, too. Part of it was the challenge, because she was smart and clever and underhanded enough to be very good at her father's business, but part of it was the inevitable shock and surprise when someone arrived at the designated location and found their arms contact was a girl with curly dark hair and a penchant for feminine dresses instead of a dangerous looking Greek national with silvering hair and the same wary and guarded look that almost all their clients had.
And for the same reason, naturally.
Zoe was armed with a description, a time and a place, not to mention a litany of words of warning and orders to abort at the first sign of something shady. The last was a little laughable, though she didn't laugh. Everything was shady, after all. Every person she met was shady. Zoe could count on both hands the number of people she'd had regular contact with in her life who weren't circumventing the law on a regular basis, and almost all of them she'd met at school. Still, she knew what her father meant, and her light blue eyes were sharp and watchful as she stood in the park at the exact arranged location. It was dusk, early enough not to be automatically suspicious, but late enough that not so many people would be around.
She arched a brow when she saw him. Her father still had the illusion of giving her some kind of plausible deniability, so her background was thin, but her contact was tall, with pale skin and dark hair that looked like it might have the tiniest trace of auburn in it, and she could extrapolate. Irish, probably, which mostly meant one thing when it got down to it. Not that she was going to say anything about that, she thought as she turned just slightly.
No names, either. "Hello," Zoe said. "It's a beautiful evening."
And for the same reason, naturally.
Zoe was armed with a description, a time and a place, not to mention a litany of words of warning and orders to abort at the first sign of something shady. The last was a little laughable, though she didn't laugh. Everything was shady, after all. Every person she met was shady. Zoe could count on both hands the number of people she'd had regular contact with in her life who weren't circumventing the law on a regular basis, and almost all of them she'd met at school. Still, she knew what her father meant, and her light blue eyes were sharp and watchful as she stood in the park at the exact arranged location. It was dusk, early enough not to be automatically suspicious, but late enough that not so many people would be around.
She arched a brow when she saw him. Her father still had the illusion of giving her some kind of plausible deniability, so her background was thin, but her contact was tall, with pale skin and dark hair that looked like it might have the tiniest trace of auburn in it, and she could extrapolate. Irish, probably, which mostly meant one thing when it got down to it. Not that she was going to say anything about that, she thought as she turned just slightly.
No names, either. "Hello," Zoe said. "It's a beautiful evening."