002 enjoyed the dynamics of his job and the overall swiftness of things in SIS but, for fuck’s sake, by dynamics he never meant receiving orders twenty minutes before departure and two hours before his flight. Commercial, of course, he’d apparently done nothing to deserve a private jet and whisky older than himself as an extra treat. Okay, there was no better way to get to Ethiopia than by an ordinary plane no-one cares about but still, annoyed 002 could picture any other agent putting their sunglasses on right after leaving the shiniest jet SIS had.
Oh, come on, Leonid, give me a fucking break, you apparently have too much fucking time right now, you fucking jealous idiot. Ugh, shut up for once.
While going down the stairs, 002 was scrolling files M provided him with. The situation seemed clear but besides a clear picture, he also needed a plan; a plan precise enough to not end up stuck in a middle of some enormously huge shit and still pretty flexible since all of his relatively few African missions sooner or later needed some significant adjustments.
He walked over to Evan’s desk, leant against the edge of it and looked at Stark rushing with collecting the equipment and all the other stuff he should have at least an hour for but no such lap of luxury was provided for that mission. “Hey there, what do you have for me today? They’re probably gonna burrow everything inside out at ADD so I hope the bag of invisibility is included,” he joked, giving Q a little smile. Of course, they were both in a fucking rush but being all stressed and pushy could only make it worse.