|Kevin Sydney/Changeling: Following a narrow escape from a meeting with a contact, Kevin deals with a bullet wound as well as a high-speed chase.
"On it." With skill earned through the defensive driving course the agency had put her through and not a little luck Dom managed to cut through the queue of cars and get onto the sliproad leading to the highway. They were able to pick up speed as the traffic thinned out and she let out a sigh, slumping back in her seat, though her hands still gripped the wheel tightly. "Okay. I think we're good. You okay?"
"I'm unlikely to die in the next few hours. That's not the same as okay." Kevin pulled out his phone and punched in some terms. He hadn't gotten a chance to get a picture of their attackers, but he'd recognize her if he saw her. His satellite phone started to forward known African operatives and assassins to his screen. "We need to narrow down the area Scarlotti's airfield is in. Ideas?"
"If I can just get a look at his phone I can probably get at the GPS data and backtrack it from there. I could talk you through it..." She trailed off and then made a face, realising what a bad idea that was. "Or I could get us somewhere safe, let you rest and then do it myself. That's a much better idea. Let's do that."
"Just pull over and I'll drive, smart-ass." He was not technologically illiterate. He couldn't afford to be in his job, but the technical side of the job was never going to be forte, and it wasn't worth arguing with her about that. She was annoyingly close to a genius with the stuff.
"Yeah, that's a good idea, let the guy who can't keep all his own blood in his body drive the car. We'd be in a ditch faster than you could say Mogadishu."
"I'll drink some orange juice. Besides, I've been driving jeeps since there were, well, jeeps in the first place."
"Okay, fine. But you start feeling light-headed and you tell me, okay?" Dom said, steering the car over towards the side of the road. Her concern wasn't borne just out of self-preservation; she actually did care about what happened to the big lug. Even if she wouldn't tell him so in as many words. "I am not interested in finding out if they still 'make 'em like they used to'."
"You're just so goddamn funny, I don't know how I can stand it." Kevin said sourly, shifting over into the driver's seat. As she sat down, he checked his phone and turned it towards her. "Looks like we've got some names. Meseret Gobena. Connected to some fringe OLF faction. Looks like she's been working as a gun for hire. No mention of any powers."
"Maybe they never tried setting her on fire before. Rookie mistake."
"You know, not everyone jumps to setting things on fire as their first solution."