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“So, Sister— after this morning's revelation that you survived on Clint Black and Glen Campbell, tell me you've got something else up your sleeve?” Fairbairn asked.
“Just mostly Country," Helena replied. "Papa was always a Country fan. We would go to many shows together and watch Hee Haw when it came on. How about you? Anything else you like to listen to besides CHVRCHES?”
“If you don't tell anyone, I also love Celtic music. Clannad and Dougie MacLean are my favorites. And then there's me penny whistle. Got this girl up in the Highlands when I was made chief engineer of the Aurora. My previous one got destroyed during a battle with the Lucian alliance.”
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Izzy,” said Helena with sympathy.
“Aye, thank you lass,” replied Fairbairn. “Libby was a sweet whistle. But I found Sybbie to be much better.”
Helena laughed. “Your name your pennywhistle?”
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Fun chit-chat, lovely illustration, and received this notification
“Aye. I do, like me weapon. Now don't be spreading this around to the team, you hear?”
Helen I put up three fingers. “Scouts and Carmelites honor. Your secret is safe with me.”
With the last strap tightened, Fairbairn stood back admiring her co-handiwork. “There. Balanced. Now you won't lean to starboard.” Helena took a few laps around the garden with her tactical vest as Fairbairn watched the Carmelites gait. She gave a thumbs up to Helena. Helena returned to Fairbairn, smiling.
“Feels like it's mine now. Thanks, Izzy,” said Helena.
“Don't thank me yet. Tomorrow when we travel, you'll either bless me or curse me by the first mile. Though I must say, your M9 is a bit oily. I thought I heard Bjornson was cleaning his weapons. I think he's in the Armory.”
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Nice one Troxley!