"Van would be good. Or Box truck." Frost agreed, her eyes half-heartedly scanning the map that CAPTCHA had set up for them. "Between the drones and the guns, I'd rather not be arrested for domestic terrorism." She and Nadya hadn't been this far west in a while- and had never been to Lisbon either for that matter. The streets looked cramped, but crowded and rowdy suited Frost's needs better than quiet and clear. It was easier for someone of her size to blend into a crowd when there was a crowd to blend into. A van would at least allow them to stow gear without getting stopped by cops every few steps.

"We'll need to set up a safe house. I'm not sharing a truck bed with this one." Frost grunted as she jabbed a meaty thumb at her sister. "I'm not sure how long we plan on staying in Lisbon, but if we're looking for a needle in a haystack, chances are we'll be here a while."

Being on the plane for so long and with so little information was more irritating than it was relaxing, and short of pacing up and down the plane cabin, Frost's aggravation was subtle, if still noticeable. She wasn't a fan of sitting around idly, and without any further information from their Mr. Johnson, all they were doing was basically twiddling thumbs and shooting the shit until they landed. 

Leaning over, Frost reached over towards the plane's bar cart sitting conveniently close by- the two sisters having already raided the minibar for all its worth and grabbed a bottle of their acquired whiskey and a handful of tumblers. Their hosts [i]had[/i] told them to make themselves at home after all. With surprising deft, especially given the relative size difference of her hands versus the glass, Frost quickly poured out a set of drinks and gestured for everyone to take one.

"Drink." Frost commanded, picking up one of the tumblers and downing the amber liquid instantly. "There are two types of people- those I shoot at, and those I drink with. Decide."