Partial Success. Just.
"If you are truly a patriot, then I find myself in good company." You say, suddenly seizing on a plan that isn't simply giving up from fear. His brow furrows, a questioning look. "There is no love lost for the Stoli's at this dinner table, Kapitan Sverdlov, I can reassure you of that."
"I'd expected nothing less of a member of our…" he gives a breathy chuckle, "Sister service."
You smile at his half-a-joke, aware that if you're going to get any information from him then you had to attempt to get on his good side. Even if he was making a pun out of your gender.
"Well, exactly. We are brothers in arms, as it were." Another chuckle which you match half-heartedly, "Had I realised this was not simply the work of another damned black marketeer, I certainly wouldn't have gone about things the way I did." A half-truth. You certainly would have investigated. You absolutely would not have done so so blatantly.
"I can't say I'm not glad to hear it. I told you, what we are doing is dangerous. You could get into trouble if you weren't careful." He pauses, looking at you with a frown. "Valentina- May I call you Valentina?"
"Of course. You're sitting at my dinner table, after all." With neither invitation nor permission, you wanted to add.
"It may be dangerous, but what we are doing is important. The future of Kevia may rest on the next few months and the shoulders of a few true patriots. It is not simply desire that drives me, it is duty to my nation and my people, a duty that some have let lie for far too long." As he spoke, his voice swelled with the sort of pride that you would usually hear in the speeches of radicals and politicians trying to stir the people to action. It is, you must admit, a fine set of words.
The time to strike had come.
"If it is the duty of patriots that you are committed to then surely the opportunity to fulfill it must be extended to all true patriots." You say, the words coming easy. The best way to find out more was to gain his trust. The best way to do that may just be to involve yourself.
He focuses on you, frowning again. He is silent, letting the stillness of the room settle interrupted only by the nervous chirruping of your pet bird and the ticking of a clock that counts long seconds.
"You have no idea what you are suggesting." He answers firmly.
"And yet a patriot steps forward to defend their country regardless of the dangers they may face."
"That they do, Valentina, that they do." Again, the silence. "I cannot answer you now. Meetings must be had, before things escalate."
"Escalate?" The word worries you. He gives you a sharp look and stands.
"Frankly I have said far too much already." He picks up his gun belt and holds it for a moment, a moment in which your heart is still and your mouth entirely dry, before strapping it around his waist. His jacket goes on next. "I may see you again, Valentina Mikhailova."
"You know my name, yet I don't know yours." You are trying to delay him and from his smile it appears he realises it.
"No, you do not." The door closes with a quiet click behind him.
You have some information. What do you do with it?
[ ] Take it to the Zaschita, the security services.
[ ] Take it up the chain of command in the Navy.
[ ] Wait to see if contact is made again.
[ ] Write-in (with GM consent).
Chapter 1 ends! Roll 2d10 v 5 stress. Rolling high is good!
EDIT:
How will you deal with the stress you have built up?
[ ] Indulge in a current vice (-1 stress) (Usually a choice, but you only have one vice)
[ ] Discover a new vice (-1 stress) (Write in a new vice)
[ ] Manage both, somehow (-2 stress)
