He folds the map back up, following after her (because why lead and miss out on the view, right?) as they make their way from the crumbling remains of -- what is this, a hotel? Housing block? Whatever, it's barely a step up from debris now. "Did he pee a little? I bet he peed a little."
Once back on the street, Nate forgets about following and makes a beeline for the now abandoned vehicle, skirting around the front bumper and trotting along in the shadow of bombed out buildings. They've got at least ten blocks before they'll be far enough North to start thinking about going up.
"Not asking why that's what you want to know about."
It's when the trip goes quiet, really. Nothing to talk about aside from the insignificant (not that she imagines Nate would mind hearing all about Flynn's near constant failures) but it's all a bit too small talk-y. A bit too cordial and dull. Three blocks away from the target, Chloe tucks the radio back in its place. "How long d'you think it'll take to scope this marker out?"
It's quite, not a little awkwardly so as Nate leads the way down the uneven, debris-strewn street while squinting at the surrounding architecture and occasionally double- (and triple-) checking his map. And somehow neither of them ever considers the possibility that this might not work - that Chloe's schemes for far off beaches and drinks with umbrellas might be a bit of a long shot not just because of the mess they've gotten themselves into, but because of-- well, everything else.
"Eh." It's a dismissive kind of noise, easy going. Nate folds the map back up, drawing to a halt at the end of the block. There's a hotel a few blocks further, visible from here. That works. "If we're lucky and Lazarevic hasn't bowled through anything? Give me ten minutes."
He throws her a quick look, mouth quirking into a grin. Yeah girl, sometimes he's pretty good at what he does.
Well it's a long, markerless road ahead so his broad, cocksure grin leaves Chloe more confused than anything else; her eyes flicking briefly towards him after a moment of quiet contemplation and then back again. "Uhm."
"Am I missing something here because I'm not getting 'ten minutes' from any of...this." A point emphasized by one hasty little wave of her arm.
"Trust me, Chloe." He spreads his hands as he steps off the edge of the mangled sidewalk, walking backward a few paces in their desired direction. "I've got this. Just follow my lead for once." Nate punctuates it with an eyebrow quirk and a tip of his chin before he turns, and does just that - making his way along the (relatively - save the occasional pop of not too distance gunfire) quiet street.
They're lucky (when isn't he lucky?) and don't run into anyone, native or otherwise, along those last few blocks. By minute ten, Nate's found them a broken window and gotten them into the ground level of the hotel itself.
The stairs leading up from there are depressingly nonexistent.
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Once back on the street, Nate forgets about following and makes a beeline for the now abandoned vehicle, skirting around the front bumper and trotting along in the shadow of bombed out buildings. They've got at least ten blocks before they'll be far enough North to start thinking about going up.
no subject
It's when the trip goes quiet, really. Nothing to talk about aside from the insignificant (not that she imagines Nate would mind hearing all about Flynn's near constant failures) but it's all a bit too small talk-y. A bit too cordial and dull. Three blocks away from the target, Chloe tucks the radio back in its place. "How long d'you think it'll take to scope this marker out?"
no subject
"Eh." It's a dismissive kind of noise, easy going. Nate folds the map back up, drawing to a halt at the end of the block. There's a hotel a few blocks further, visible from here. That works. "If we're lucky and Lazarevic hasn't bowled through anything? Give me ten minutes."
He throws her a quick look, mouth quirking into a grin. Yeah girl, sometimes he's pretty good at what he does.
no subject
"Am I missing something here because I'm not getting 'ten minutes' from any of...this." A point emphasized by one hasty little wave of her arm.
no subject
They're lucky (when isn't he lucky?) and don't run into anyone, native or otherwise, along those last few blocks. By minute ten, Nate's found them a broken window and gotten them into the ground level of the hotel itself.
The stairs leading up from there are depressingly nonexistent.
"Okay so maybe more like twenty minutes."