Not So Turkish Delight

July 18, 2014:

After making his way to the nearest town, Paul steals a phone to call Sara and ask for a rescue.

Turkey. The country, not the bird.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Sara has been…well, if not precisely busy, she's kept herself from spending too much time sitting around. When her phone rings, she's in the middle of a run, which explains why she answers it without looking at the caller ID, stepping to the side of the running path and jogging in place. "This is Pez," she answers, taking a drink of water.

"Jason told you I was alive, right?" Paul asks. "Cause I really don't have time to explain it all over the phone if he didn't." Not after breaking into someone's house and robbing them. Fortunately, small towns aren't as paranoid in their security measures as large cities.

There's a long moment of silence on the line as Sara stops moving, followed by coughing as she chokes on her water. "You made it," she says once her throat it clear. "Where are you? Please don't tell me you're calling from hell, I really don't know how to get there right now."

"No, there are no bars in Hell." Paul points out. "Of any kind, anywhere. That's part of what makes it hell." Now he can joke about it. It's better than screaming. "I'm in Turkey. Somewhere. I'm not really sure since I don't read Turkish."

Once again, there's a moment as Sara tries to process that. "Okay, well, that's definitely a complication," she says after a moment. "Especially since your body's on a table in the morgue, and I've got an appointment with IA in two days to try to explain it all. Anything notable around? Are you on a cell, can you shoot me a picture of the landscape, street signs, anything? I'll call Steve, I'm sure SHIELD's got assets everywhere."

"Hang on." There's a delay as Paul takes several pictures of what's around them and then sends them to Sara. "I was going to suggest SHIELD. I have no money or passport. I had to break into three homes before I found one with clothes I could wear but none of the shoes fit. And it took me almost a dozen homes before I found a cellphone with international capability. You might want to have SHIELD delete these phone records by the way so you can't be traced to this. And I'd appreciate it if they could reimburse these people for what I stole too."

"I'm calling Steve," Sara points out, dry. "I'm sure any reimbursements will be taken care of." There's a pause, as she glances over the pictures, then brings the phone back to her ear. "You okay, Paul?" she asks more quietly.

"I've been worse." Much, much worse in fact. "Like I said, not a great time to talk about things." Paul points out. "I need to put this phone back before they wake up. I don't know if it has GPS or not but you can check to see and if it does, I'll be outside of town on the south side. I don't want to chance being tracked with it and arrested. A missing shirt and pair of pants probably won't scream they've been robbed but a cellphone might."

"All right. Sit tight, Paul. We'll be there as soon as we can." Sara pauses, taking a breath. "I'm glad you're back, Paul. Don't get yourself killed before we get there."

There's silence for a moment before Paul says "Thanks Sara. I'll be glad to see you here. We can fill each other in on what happened on the way back home. South side, see you soon." Then the line goes dead.

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