She is so eager to get away that she forgets to even leave him with a look or a kiss. It's okay, they can play it off.

She rejoins Carter's conversation with Shoaib, trembling slightly, and slips his arm around her. It's comforting and nice, and she's not ashamed of it right now.

There is something very fucking wrong with Usmaan.

"So how are you liking our city, sir?" he asks politely. His eyes drift over Agent Khan as though she's a mildly diverting item of furniture. "I'm glad to see you're enjoying the company of your hosts." Only the slightest stress there. He's happy that Khan and Agan aren't on the verge of blows any more. 

...Khan is a little shaken, hiding it almost perfectly. That's unusual for her. If it gets bad he can help cover for her, but... hmm. 

He barely pays attention to Malik, pulling Raina close with a reassuring squeeze. He can feel her shiver. Yeah. He gets it. It's like Usmaan isn't really there any more.

Well, there's one way to take her mind off things. 

"What can I say, man? Good food, great guys," a lazy gesture towards Usmaan, who's staring at him or possibly something a thousand yards behind him, "and yeah, this broad," he pinches her ass, "knows how to treat a man."

She's going to kill him. At least she won't be upset any more. Not really upset. Something feels kinda wrong with the world when she's scared. 

Raina turns her head slowly, like an owl, a painted smile still on her face. 

She's beyond angry now. He's just like the others. What a fool she is to think he might have been different. 

"Yes, Mr Agan," she says sweetly, her grip on his arm turning claw-like. "Actually, I should go and check on them."

Men. Men.

She goes in search for someone more predictable that has closer ties to Usmaan. They need to figure out what the hell is wrong with him. 

...That boy still has all his fingers unbroken. 

Raina must really like him. 

It's not hard to find someone who'll talk, as long as they're in private away from their host and plied with drink and not caring about the decor (Raina). 

Usmaan was completely normal up until his second meeting in the warehouse. Hasn't been the same since. Rumour goes that he wanted answers, and got them. Maybe he got roughed up a little? But it doesn't look it, and he'd be a dangerous enemy to make, and he's a tough man, it shouldn't have hit him that hard. Maybe he's just snapped. People do. 

She'll find someone who was with him that night and side up to them, offering drinks and a coy smile. 

There's always a bodyguard who'll talk. 

Usmaan went back to the warehouse, demanded answers. He's a big man around here (the bodyguard's chest swells proudly), he can do that. 

Said something about wanting to know the truth. (The man's voice drops, and he leans in as he spins his tale.) The whole truth. Threatened to start... 'making enquiries' otherwise.

Anyway, they take him to the back rooms, where it all really happens. Nobody's allowed back there. They wanted him, the bodyguard, to stay behind, but he just cracked his knuckles and they backed off, just like that. Didn't want them getting any funny ideas about Usmaan going missing, see. 

So they go through, and you can hear this very very faint noise, right. Crunch, crunch, crunch. All the time. 

In the end they come to this room all dark and full of smoke, smells like incense. They tell him someone needs to watch out for them, give him a torch, he has his back to the wall, knife in his hand. 

Usmaan goes down some kind of trapdoor, and for a minute nothing happens. And then... there's something weird, right, a sort of loud hum. Smells like charred meat, even with the incense. 

You don't ask Usmaan about it. You just don't. 

He saw something down there. 

(This bodyguard is trying very hard to impress the pretty girl, but he is not actually very good at telling ghost stories.)

Raina smiles and looks impressed and frightened and interested at all the right moments, leaning in so he can get an excellent view of her chest and smell her perfume (orange blossom and sandalwood tonight - it's silly to have a signature scent in the field). She titters about how brave he is to be so loyal to Usmaan, how clever Usmaan is for figuring out something was going on. She wonders aloud what it might have been that tipped him off. 

Oh, that's easy. Usmaan moves a lot of gear, but he's always got his eyes open, he noticed all the weird shit on his hands all of a sudden. So something's changed. He knows they're having a good year, a really good year, stands to reason it's connected. Trouble is there's no free lunch and if these boys have their fingers in something that's going to burn them, he wants to know, so he can make arrangements.

(He sounds rather like he's repeating this from memory).

Raina sighs plaintively, playing idly with the guard's collar, letting her fingertips graze skin. 

She mentions off-handedly that the stupid American man - the one who drags her everywhere like a rag doll and keeps throwing expensive gifts at her, like this dress - he is so eager to get in on the business. And he won't stop talking about how he knows something is amiss and he keeps pestering her about it, so she better have something good to tell him when he gets back.

She's ever so bored around that gora, all he does is paw at her and put her in all this stuff. Maybe if she can tell him something good, he'll leave her alone for a few days. 

She blinks prettily up at the guard. 

Yeah this guard does not want to piss off the weird American who, you see, is still alive so probably not as dumb as he looks or at least very good at killing the other guy first. 

He's not a clever man, but he's made it this far by not making dangerous enemies.

He doesn't say that, obviously, the other guys would laugh at him. 

Listen. Something is amiss. The American would be smart to keep out of it. 

The Canal St. boys are looking for something. Usmaan says there's a pattern to the places they're hitting - rich families, old ones, archives, libraries, stuff from before the partition, Hindus, anyone with roots going back a long way. 

They're looking for something. 

Maybe they showed Usmaan exactly what it was. 

She shivers audibly, sidling a little closer. That kind of stuff seems so strange; she's glad Usmaan didn't spend too long being involved. She'll tell the American and maybe that will keep him happy for a few days. 

Otherwise... He should drop by the brothel in his spare time. She makes that much clear in veiled terms before she moves away. 

Ya Allah, there's something very black in the daal here. The Hindus are known for their cults but even the most ambitious guru wouldn't dare desecrate a true deity, most of the existing cults are centred around religious leaders.

Well, to be perfectly honest, so are the Muslim ones. 

This is going to take more digging, but at least they have somewhere to start. 

He does not feel good about this. 

Raina still seems off, and that makes everything feel wrong. He's kind of worried whatever's got to Usmaan has hit her too. 

He's very worried, actually. 

Because it would be terrible for the Agency if something drove their main contact here crazy, of course. 

He shoots a worried glance in her direction. 

She is. Ignoring him? Won't catch his eye, won't linger more than two metres close to him, refuses to talk to him. Otherwise, she seems perfect. Like porcelain just before the pressure point of shattering.

If he wants her attention, he's going to have to confront her for it. She's enjoying the protection that sitting next to Usmaan and his friends offers her; one of them pulls her into his lap. 

Oooookay that is very not good and he's been through anti-interrogation training (boring, he's tough and doesn't feel pain much and is also incredibly hard to restrain) so he's probably better placed for whatever horrifying secret bad juju Usmaan is talking about? 

Right, time for the classic strategy. 

He swaggers up to Usmaan, thrusts another drink into his hands, loudly addresses the entire group about something dumb. Stupid big loud American. 

He doesn't need to threaten the guy holding Raina, she can handle herself. The fact that he could cheerfully break every bone in the man's torso with one blow is just for him to think about. He'll get the message. 

All eyes move to him.

Well done, Agan. You've got everyone's attention. And while they're all looking at him, Raina glances coolly at him and raises a brow.

It's so unbothered it's almost scathing. 

Ah, that's a relief, she's back to normal. 

He's going to get them talking about business. He's feeling reckless, for some reason. Raina's here, her creepy knows-everything-you-hope-he-doesn't boss is here, it can't go that badly wrong if he pushes Usmaan a little further. 

The man Raina is sitting on likes this turn of events. He's not really here for business, sweetheart, he's comfortable. 

He's also very handsy. 

He's not going to talk about it. He's not going to talk about business, either. He's going to mumble something horrible about infidels and say it'll serve them right when they all die in agony.

God, what the fuck has happened to Usmaan? Even as she's entertaining Mr Handsy she's mulling over his words. They need to get inside his private rooms and figure this out.

The easiest way to do that would be to go with Carter. Fantastic. 

She's not sure he'll catch her drift but she catches his eye and glances to the hallway that leads onwards into the house. 

He gives her a lazy wink and a dumb American grin. All right, she's got something, and she seems a little better, that's good.

They should work out some kind of code, come to think of it. 

He staggers to his feet. "All right, sweetie-pie, no need to throw yourself, daddy's coming. Still got a minute for a... private dance before dinner, right guys?" 

There's laughter, even a few whoops. There's a knack to making guys like that like you. Just like high school, except with more murderers.

He scoops Raina up like a kitten, gives the guy she was sitting on a friendly punch on the shoulder that costs him all the feeling in his arm, and they're out of the room in a moment.

He sets Raina down immediately. "Sitch report, Agent Dollface?"

...

He's not totally blind. 

"What's wrong?"

"One of the guards said there's a pattern to what they're hitting these days. Old Hindu houses from before the partition, and all these old statues and paintings. We need to figure out exactly what it is they're hiding, and I want to get into Usmaan's study."

Her voice is sharp and cold, like the clicking of her heels on the stone of the floors. 

He frowns. There's an uneasy sense to him, a memory on the tip of his tongue. "Fifty-fifty he's left it unlocked, these days. If not - I can give you cover to spring the lock." She's obviously going to know how. "You know best here, if you think it's worth the risk we can go now."

He paused for a second. "Is something bothering you?"

There's a falter in her steps. 

Hmm. He seems to actually care, but it would be beyond embarrassing to try and explain it. 'The way you kept your cover in front of the other men made me feel like who I was supposed to be playing'.

"I'll need two minutes. Maybe three, if he decides for one of the more modern models."