Hope against hope, but Daniel has a bad feeling. So bad that he says nothing else, and simply hangs up. The feeling persists so starkly that he doesn't even startle when he turns around to find Armand waiting patiently for him.
It doesn't matter how much he's heard, he can just pull it out of Daniel's head easy as breathing.
Stay there, as if Daniel has any control over where they go, and now Armand knows that trying to pass through Moscow to move west is an unwieldy risk. Though, as Armand takes Daniel's hand in both of his and guides him back to the lobby elevators to return to their quarters, he thinks he might have told him anyway; he really doesn't want to go to a fucking Siberian work camp.
Things for Louis to find: CCTV, glimpses of an anxious hostage scenario versus the unnervingly docile way Daniel walks beside Armand the last time they leave the hotel, telltale obviousness of being mentally controlled. Rooms upstairs hastily vacated, some papers with notes scribbled on them left scuttled under one bed, a list of names and places Armand has mentioned. The lingering scent of Armand's own blood, and empty glasses with deep red stains.
It's not difficult to track their abrupt movement through the city, though it becomes fuzzier when they make an overland crossing into Kazakhstan. The drive to Almaty is only about four hours, and they stop at a quaint photo op area on the long road. Armand tells him more horror stories. In the airport, there's only one nonstop flight to anywhere in Europe, and it's in ten hours. Not acceptable. They end up hopping one to Istanbul, and Armand keeps a hand on Daniel's elbow the entire time, like a dutiful caretaker of his aging father-in-law.
no subject
It doesn't matter how much he's heard, he can just pull it out of Daniel's head easy as breathing.
Stay there, as if Daniel has any control over where they go, and now Armand knows that trying to pass through Moscow to move west is an unwieldy risk. Though, as Armand takes Daniel's hand in both of his and guides him back to the lobby elevators to return to their quarters, he thinks he might have told him anyway; he really doesn't want to go to a fucking Siberian work camp.
Things for Louis to find: CCTV, glimpses of an anxious hostage scenario versus the unnervingly docile way Daniel walks beside Armand the last time they leave the hotel, telltale obviousness of being mentally controlled. Rooms upstairs hastily vacated, some papers with notes scribbled on them left scuttled under one bed, a list of names and places Armand has mentioned. The lingering scent of Armand's own blood, and empty glasses with deep red stains.
It's not difficult to track their abrupt movement through the city, though it becomes fuzzier when they make an overland crossing into Kazakhstan. The drive to Almaty is only about four hours, and they stop at a quaint photo op area on the long road. Armand tells him more horror stories. In the airport, there's only one nonstop flight to anywhere in Europe, and it's in ten hours. Not acceptable. They end up hopping one to Istanbul, and Armand keeps a hand on Daniel's elbow the entire time, like a dutiful caretaker of his aging father-in-law.