Two of a kind in a Country of Vodka and WMD's (Rex and Brandon)

The iron gun clouds overhead cast a ominous look over the countryside. Heavy snow fell down in a unending torrent, freezing icy wind blew across the landscape making people hide in warm homes by the fire. A young man of twenty three sat at a table in a small bar in Moscow Russia. He was tall at six foot three with large muscles, a buzz cut hair style, blue jeans, muscle shirt, and a New York jets jacket. He got several odd stares since Americans weren't really welcomed in Russia but his size and posture was a bit too intimidating. That and he was on his seventh glass of Vodka which the bartenders were liking and wouldn't appreciate it if their patrons messed with a paying customer.

The howling wind outside didn't faze the man at all, his body was immune to things like cold and heat. Lifting the glass he took another drink, always looking around and exploring the faces of the patrons. He had come here on his round trip vacation for his world tour when he overheard some soldier mentioning something about a Weapon of Mass Destruction. It had peaked his interest and now he was following leads to track down the weapon and stop whoever had it before they activated World War three. Slamming his money down he leaned back in his chair. The bar maid coming over and giving a wink before taking the money and going about the other customers. He didn't even look at her but instead listened for anything that would lead him to where he needed to go. So far his trail had lead him here and than gone ice cold.

Rex had heard of a man who was suppose to be meeting some colonel out here but so far nothing had happened yet. It was nine o clock at night and most patrons were leaving for bed. Ordering another drink of Vodka he drained it quickly. Aspect of his power was he never got drunk no matter how much he drank. He asked the bar maid for a inn or a motel and she perked up saying they had a spare room for rent. He agreed to the price and paid than went back to his drinking and his waiting.

Brandon rested on his elbows, downing another shot of vodka, considering that the stuff was what Russians were known for and whatnot. He may have not been in the country for the vodka alone, but it was enough to keep him here, while his twin did whatever magical business the male was up to. Well, even if he wanted to help his brother the snow was pretty heavy out there, and Brandon did not want to venture getting lost within the heavy drift having its way with the countryside. Looking up at the barmaid, he smiled warmly and requested another shot, and when it was placed in front of him, that small measure was thrown back as well.

Something about him just seemed out of place when compared to everyone else; mostly the fact that he was a rather compact looking American pretty boy throwing down vodka like it was water. His jacket was perhaps as fluffy as possible, because like any normal human being, extreme cold affected him but not to any major degree, just enough to require covering up to stay comfortable. Aaron had told him to stay here while he dealt with a particularly nasty group of ice spirits, ones that were monopolizing on the rather cold weather in this region and a problem that immediate Hale intervention was begged for.

He would have stayed in Chicago where Niall was, instead of this frozen place but then again people do not always get what they want. With the continual procession of drinks, Brandon felt like he would at least not be denied when it came to good alcoholic beverages, or atleast when it came down to passable drink. Brandon sighed deeply, looking down at his drink and mentally counting how many he had since walking into this bar, though he stopped counting after he hit eight and that was a good ten minutes ago. ’Aaron sure takes a while.” He muttered to himself, finishing off his drink and requesting another, running fingers through his medium length blonde hair.

The sound of boots made his head tun to an angle, sound of a chair being pulled back and two bodies dropping into them. Now he just had to listen. In his hand was a cell phone that picked up words in russian and translated them on the screen in english. The men ordered two cups of Vodka and got comfortable, a order of meat and bread was taken to their table. Once the waitress had gone the two men leaned close and began to talk. His cell picked up the words and translated them on the screen as fast as they talked. They were speaking of weapon shipments, artillery, slave trading, and most important a Nuke. Every instinct screamed for him to grab the men and force them to tell where they were going. However, to do so would blow his cover and send him on a wild goose chase. Than he would have to do something so the two men wouldn't escape...no, patience was a virtue he had learned.

The men continued their talk, always stopping when people moved to close or when the waitress brought them food and refills. He received his own meal and ate it. The taste was to be desired it was better than nothing. One mentioned a old military shelter where they should meet up and finish the sale. Once the colonel stood and left his associate sat and waited. He ordered a room for the night since he didn't want to drive in the snow and the meeting wasn't till tomorrow. Rex finished his meal as the man got up and headed upstairs. Standing up from his chair he paid for his entire meal and all the drinks he had gotten. Heading upstairs himself he went into his room which with the small establishment was next to his targets. His hands curled into fists as he remembered the words of slave trade, he hated slavers especially those that sold their own people out.

Taking a deep breath he had to speak to the man; and while tact and silence was a generous tool it wasn't very effective during a interrigation. He looked outside wondering if there were any big dogs in the area he could use. Shrugging off the idea he went back downstairs and to the barmaid. Ordering a wake up call for six am and another meal to take to his room. He didn't even notice the other person sharing the dining room with him since he was caught up in his mission. Walking up stairs he stopped at the door of the seller and knocked. After a minute the man opened the door and looked at Rex who stood with a plate and a bottle of Vodka. "On the house, for being a valued customer." The man accepted the food and drink, turning to put it away he was floored from a sudden right jab to his forehead which was more of a flick of a finger. Carrying the body to his own room he set the man down and tied him with sheets.

A glass of cold water sat on the end table, picking it up he threw it in the mans face to revive him. A splutter than eyes of anger stared at Rex who walked around the room gathering candles, sharp utensils, and a flat piece of wood. "You don't know me...sadly. But you have information I need...and I need it now." His eyes locked with the man and gave a slight smirk. He wasn't really following a boy scout code here, but with lives of hundreds of thousands and the poor women being sold into slavery he wasn't being a good boy. Walking over he sat down in front of the man and touched his right finger. "What I know of this black art isn't much...I do know torture only gets me what I want to hear...so, how about we skip the pain and go straight to the truth hmm? Where...is...the...nuke." His hand pushed down on the mans finger in a promise to snap it if he wasn't told. This was a bad way to get information but he had to be the one who could put his morals aside and do what needed to be done.

Brandon ran fingers along the bridge of his nose, deeply inhaling before exhaling. The next shot sat in front of him, clear liquid waiting for him to gulp it down with one quick motion, but his mind was on something else, but that something found itself lost within the torrent of thoughts. Something however snapped him out of this thinking, a sound, a chair loudly scraping against the floor as it was moved and perhaps sat in, something that broke through that haze within his mind forming like a sandstorm. Without really giving himself away, Brandon looked in the direction of the people that had taken themselves a seat, huddled close and whispering something in rapid Russian that he could barely keep up with. Luckily now was when those lessons with his master began to pay off, keywords popping out at him like bacon grease on a skillet.

His left index finger began to tap rhythmically; along to a tune that was its own as he tried to entire figure out what was going on between the two. While other things seemed rather dire, one thing that stuck within his mind was an important little tidbit; mentions of a nuke. It was that word alone that would send someone into a mini heart attack, considering that the destructive power of a nuke would make the damage to New York look tame in comparison. It was the slight pauses within their talks that Brandon could really gather his wits, considering what he could even do with this information that was handed to him like a proverbial silver platter. While simply forcing the information out of them would have been the perfect idea, Brandon had a feeling that would not work considering no one took the pretty boy American very serious.

That was until he showed his ability to heft a tank over his head with one arm anyway. Upending his shot glass once again, Brandon sighed to himself, the taste of vodka now thick in his mouth. The place had food, and considering that he had not eaten in a while, Brandon ordered something, whatever it was he did not pay attention but it sure did taste bland, yet at the same time the food did its job. He turned his head towards one of the windows, only a white expanse stretching beyond that, meaning that he would have to wait it out for however long the blizzard would last, all night if his luck had run out. Finishing off the small remains of his dinner, Brandon took note of someone else moving about, a rather imposing figure that a normal person would shy away from confronting, and that a more peaceful person like him would have avoided ticking off as well.

One thing that he did notice was that the guy was not from around here.

The man pulled at his bonds and screamed in Russian, words that didn't need repeating. Rex pushed down on the mans hand causing a audible snap in his finger. The man bucked and screamed from the pain that rushed through his hand like white fire. His eyes never left the face of the messenger as he went through the interrogation for a weapon of Mass Destruction. His finger moved to the mans index finger next, his eyes staring without mercy into the Russians. "Now, the Nuke. Where...is...it?" The man shook his head as he gave that Russian sneer, and said something about mother Russia and american scum. Rex actually smirked, the mans bravery was something he could respect and if the situation had put them as allies instead of enemies, Rex would have enjoyed the mans bravado more.

Pushing down again there was another snap, he screamed again his head going backwards. The man obviously wasn't a Soldier, they were use to pain. This man must have been a gun runners assistant. Next, Rex placed his middle finger on the center of the mans hand and gave a promising look. "The Nuke....now." The man looked up, his eyes angry but he spoke english just enough to understand. "Abandoned base, twenty miles northwest." Rex nodded and stood up, a swift tap to the mans head knocked him out cold. Gagging him, he made sure he was bound nice and tight. Walking downstairs he opened the door and stepped out into the cold, a determined look on his face.

Brandon let his fingertips run along the edge of the plate that once had a decent meal on it, his mind running over something for a second before then trailing onto another thing. The blizzard outside had only seemed to pick up, turning it into a literal veil of white, and one that he was sure that he would have been lost in. The Hale narrowed his eyes into slits, wondering how long the drift would last, and thinking on his brother who was still within that heavy fall. There was no way that he could go anywhere now, even with the thought of the mention of nuclear weapons dancing around in his head, something like that would have to wait. Okay, so he would have to ask if there was a room available and then stay here for as long as he needed to, a place that was much warmer than it was outside.

Niall would have to wait a little longer for him to be home, but the guy was a trooper, so not like he would mind it too much. Whipping out his cell phone and standing to his feet, Brandon checked the signal; only one measly bar to get his message all of the way to Chicago but that was better than nothing. Hey Niall, might be in Russia longer than I thought. Just wanted to make sure you knew that, love ya ;)” Brandon typed out quickly before hitting send, glaring at the phone balefully for a moment, until it finally sent and he could deposit it in his pocket. That was when he could walk up to the counter and requisition a room, if one of those were available and the move on from there.

Luckily he could indeed get a room, which proved good for the Hale who dug out some Russian bills that Aaron had the foresight to get beforehand and place the large pile in front of the woman before being told where the room was. That was however when he heard something interesting, the sound of a roar of pain, one that caused the blonde bruiser to cringe from the sound of it, but not enough to create a large amount of noise. He paused for a moment, pressing ear to the door and attempting to hear what was transpiring beyond the door, concentrating greatly so he didn’t miss a single thing. One was speaking in Russian, something about American pigs and all of that wonderful stuff, the other voice steely as it forced information out of the man, who was likely the one that let out the cry of pain. If his guess was right, the Brandon was dealing with some kind of interrogation, kind of like in the movies.

If that were the case, the perhaps the interrogator was trying to deal with this nuke problem that the young male had caught an inkling of not too long ago. However, he was unsure of the situation and bursting in would have only caused unforeseen complications, so for now he would not butt into this. It was near the end of this interrogation that he heard something interesting; the location of the nuke that was perhaps somewhere. It was twenty miles northwest, which meant that Brandon could simply follow the male, even if it was cold as hell out there. Sure the feeling would be annoying, but not like his indestructible hide could be harmed by simple cold, even if it would have killed your average Joe. So stepping into his room, Brandon would wait until the male left his room and then proceed to follow.

He pulled his thick jacket close, collar large enough that it reached up past his nose, and rested an inch below his eyes. ”Goins somewhere?”