The well-dressed man was nodding, gesturing. [color=7ea7d8]"She's trained,"[/color] he said, as his companion approached. She was shaking, Cecilly knew, trembling like a leaf in high winds until she took a breath, and then another breath, and then - startling the man - slapped herself full across the face. Her body calmed and steadied, and it was with what was almost practiced ease that she approached Lee with the needle. Growing clarity brought the woman into sharper relief. Short hair, dyed with something - the unnatural texture was a giveaway - features too drawn and twisted with fear to be pretty. Well-muscled, not just a gym body. Sweater and slacks. Sneakers, incongruous with the outfit. She was in her early thirties; the man was older but not by a lot. Businesslike now. Efficient. Had they done this before?

[color=fdc68a]"Here,"[/color] said the woman, jogging, almost running to the door to retrieve a duffle bag and bring it to the bed. Clothing - shirts, jeans, socks and sneakers, underthings, the works - a first aid kit, various items. A flashlight, ironically.

And another gun. Heavy, again, a serious caliber. The woman was laying out clothes across the bed; she placed the gun without comment, an offering. It was loaded.

[color=7ea7d8]"It might help with trust,"[/color] the man said. [color=7ea7d8]"I'm Caleb, by the way. It's our h-"[/color] The hesitation was brief but unmistakable. [color=7ea7d8]"Our pleasure to make your acquaintance. My associate is-"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Jane,"[/color] she said suddenly, seeming to startle herself with her own voice. Lee could feel her cheeks color as she leaned past to arrange more clothing. Jane smiled, then, a small and private thing. 

Vanishing at noises from the direction of the elevator. The tension flooded back into the pair. Jane took her gun out of her purse, checked it, and flicked the safety off. [color=fdc68a]"I'm sorry, ma'am. You're probably still a little woozy, but you're going to have to hurry."[/color]