She struggles for a second, just to satisfy her pride, and then rolls to her feet when he lets her go. She prowls around him like an alley cat. 

"That's unnatural. What else did they give you that you're hiding?"

It comes out wrong, too confrontational. What she really wants to ask is 'did they leave you some scars too', and 'can you still want things you wanted before'. She can't. 

His grin does waver slightly, but his voice doesn't falter. "Surprised you didn't see when you stripped me." He's not - the scars are razor-thin, stark in the right light but otherwise invisible. "Which was totally just a medical necessity, of course."

Raina tosses her hair over her shoulder, picks up her knives and her kit, and cuts him a final glance. "Well, I could have let you bleed out in that warehouse, but it would have derailed the operation."

Disengage, Khan. Disengage before things get too involved. 

She can't hide forever. 

The days have trickled by and they've finally got something. 

Massive new weapons shipment. All kinds of stuff, kinda suspicious actually - he can't quite put his finger on it but it's more like someone's trying to throw them off the trail, than like it really is just a lot of different stolen weapons. 

They have an actual target, now. Someone to entertain and make the final deal with and hopefully for God's sake get a clue as to what they're really dealing with here. 

The question is, is Khan gonna work with him here. 

Of course she is. She would never let anything compromise the mission. 

Naturally they've gone back to their icy, simmering silence, but now it's calculated. Khan leans just so when she's with him, flicks her hair over her shoulder, curls her hands, cocks a brow, smirks delightfully in all the wrong ways to rile him up. And it's only when none of the other men are looking. 

She puts in the appearances she needs to, to maintain her cover, but the brothel is arguably the best lead for her to cover while Carter oversees most of the actual work. She regrets being called away, actually, even if it does give her a break.

Still, she does her due diligence. Smacks a file onto his desk after the others have gone home. She just crept out of the shadows like they were embracing her.

"Not a peep out of anyone. It's like they've showed up out of thin air. We might be going in blind." Raina's neck is stiff and her posture angular and tense. She hates not knowing what the hell is going on. 

He gives her a tired smirk. It's taken a lot - even he can't go without sleep forever, and he's trying to stay a step ahead of some of the sharpest bastards in the country - but he does actually have a little something. 

"It's a woman, for starters."

Female, late 20s, Russian, probably Muscovian. Arms dealer noted for her tendency to keep her distance and end up ahead after things go badly sideways, supposedly slept her way to the top and killed the last guy in charge of what's now her operations. It's pretty rare for her to show up to anything in person, so there's something going on here, most probably she's suspicious, she isn't dumb and the American got a lot of money very very fast. 

Supposedly descended from some group of wandering Eastern European witches, won't touch a crucifix, might possibly have had something to do with Nazi relic hunting back in the day even though she would've been, like, 14. 

She knows something. 

They're supposed to be having her to dinner, like, soon. "Got a plan for this one, Khan?"

She leans back against the wall, pondering. After a few moments, she says slowly, "It would be a lot easier if we knew what drives her. But she'll see through your act like glass if you pretend to be the stupid American. She seems to think highly of herself... Perhaps the move is to prove she's right."

A plan starts coming together in her mind. "There's two ways, I think. You could let her know that there definitely is an angle for you and running things helps you get there. Or we make it out like I'm the one who's really making the plays, and you're the puppet. She might take that - it flatters her own rise to power."

He smirks. "The whole concubine act really gets to you, doesn't it, Khan. Y'know what, fine. We'll try it your way. You take the lead on this one, I'll just make a lot of noise."

"Mister Agan," she drawls in the kind of transatlantic accent you might hear on the radio - there might be a Slavic trace to it. "A pleasure to finally put a face to the name." He's big and strong and... tense, in a very interesting way. Hmm. "Will you show me inside?"

He can do "in over his head and compensating" just fine. "This way, ma'am. It's very good of you to come here in person. I think you'll like what I have to offer."

She drinks vodka, shaken over a lot of ice. Expensive, in this part of the world. 

What have they got for her, then?

Raina perches on the desk of the study as they enter, fixing her lipstick in a tiny mirror. "Carter, darling, will you fetch me a martini? Extra wet, you know how I like it," she drawls, giving him a heated look over the mirror.

Her eyeliner is sharp enough to cut glass, and the deep burgundy on her lips gives them exquisite spotlight as the centrepiece of her face.

"How has your journey been, Ms Lebedev? Can I offer you something to nibble while we wait for dinner to finish up?" Her voice has been scrubbed clean of the Urdu accent and remains vaguely Americanised British. 

He makes eye contact with her in the mirror. 

He wanted to establish a clear alternate narrative to present to Lebedev with marked deviations from their other cover and memorise points of divergence so they wouldn't get lost. 

Khan had responded by teaching him a new swear-word in Urdu, quite loudly. 

Do you want me in just the jockstrap again, he bites back, and goes to mix drinks. 

Her sea-green eyes shine oddly in the orange light. She glances at Carter as he goes past, gaze lingering on him for a long moment as he walks away. 

Then she looks up at Raina, and smiles a dazzling smile. Her own lips are red like blood, shockingly red, curved and sharp. 

"Stimulating. Thank you. That sounds... delicious."

She rather wants him out of the jockstrap, but that probably goes without saying. 

There's small, palatable versions of Pakistani street snacks laid out on a small tray, and as Raina turns to arrange it, Lebedev gets an eyeful of the daring plunge of the back of her kameez - snow white, with gold embroidery at the hems.

"How are you finding Lahore? She can be a handful for those not used to her spirit." 

She laughs. It's peculiarly cold and clear, not quite like anything else she's said. 

Very interesting. 

"Oh," her voice a playful purr, "I do love a girl who has... spirit."

They are always most entertaining to break.

She takes something sticky, making a point of delicately licking her fingertips clean. "I am sure you know I do not usually make arrangements in person. I do hope," something flickers in her gaze, "your man here isn't going to waste my time."

Raina gives her a hospitable smile, polished and cool. "I assure you that he will not. Mr Agan has a reputation here for being a most particular and discerning businessman."

The implication lays clear in his absence.

"On account of your renown, he would not dare to tarnish his tenuous hold here by tarnishing your faith in him." 

A servant appears at the door and bows, addressing Raina quietly. She beams at him, and offers Lebedev an elegant, slender hand. "It appears dinner is served for us. 

She steps delicately forwards and-

Gives Raina Khan the sort of low hooded smile that will make even her feel like she's being invited into some wonderful confidence, like she might be considered worthy of - something, something important.

The sharp tips of her fingernails trace over Raina's hand, even as her thumb presses delicately in the soft space between the bones of her hand where it makes her nerves sing. She glides into Raina's space as though she was born there. Her whisper is like smoke on the wind - can even Raina make her lips curve that way, her words so sure, so honeyed?

"Da, I am glad you know how to show respect. I will admit that you have captured my attention - I wonder, what will you do with it?"

And then as suddenly as she came, she draws back, just a little, to where she can be led to dinner. 

Not so far back that she can't innocently let the back of her hand and her arm brush against Raina's hips, softly enough to raise goosebumps. 

Raina lets her gaze linger over her shoulder, amused and surprised, intrigued enough to play. "I have only the highest respect for you, ma'am. I only hope..." Her gaze trails down and back up. "You'll allow me to earn your praise."

They make it into the dining room and Raina calls for Carter, assuming the seat at his left hand side, and putting Lebedev across from the both of them. 

"Ah, two on one. How interesting. Do you think there is safety in numbers?"

How do they sit together? Close? Distant? Familiar? 

Oh God there's two of them.