"Just Another Pretty Face"

[TimTimTyner]

"Just Another Pretty Face"

(If you are female and interested in this, PM me.)​

Timothy Tyner dropped into the seat opposite his supervisor and was immediately met by a file sliding across the glass topped desk. He opened it to find a photo of an attractive woman paper clipped to the inside front. His boss, Marta Lee, asked, "Recognize her?"

"Sure," Tim said simply, studying the pretty face before looking to the pages of text on the right. It didn't take long for his face to show his confusion. He looked back to the photo again, and suddenly it all came to him. He closed the file, asking, "How long do I have?"

"The target is meeting with the DRP in eight weeks," Marta told him. "We need her in place before that. She has to get his attention, get close ... get into his house--"

"Which means getting into his bed," Tim responded. It was a statement, not a question.

Marta continued without the need to respond, "Then get to and into his computer to find the information we need."

"What's the carrot?" Tim asked. When he didn't get an immediate reply, he asked, "Are we using a carrot...? Or a stick?"

"I'll let you decide, but..." Marta pulled a small booklet from her desk drawer and slid it across the glass to Tim.

He opened it to find balance information for a Cayman bank account. He asked surprised, "A million dollars?"

"We need this, Tim," she said with a serious tone. "I'd carrot her ten million if I could."

He thought about the mission for a moment, then asked, "And if she doesn't want the carrot?"

Marta didn't have to respond to that. If the woman didn't want the carrot, she'd get the stick. And Tim was a stick. It was what he did, get people to do what he wanted them to do to avoid punishment of one sort or another. He contemplated the picture again, then asked, "Why me? This isn't my normal type of assignment."

"Analysis Department says she'll like you," Marta said, her lips widening in a bit of a knowing smirk. "Apparently, they think you're her type."

"Great," Tim murmured to himself. Last thing he wanted right now was a romantic entanglement, particular one on the job. He snatched up the file and stood to leave. He hesitated, looking to Marta to ask, "And my carrot?"

"Standard package," Marta said, knowing that wouldn't set well with him.

"Eight week assignment," Tim responded with a tone that confirmed his boss's assumptions. "Low odds of success--"

"I have confidence in you," Marta said, knowing full well that Tim wasn't concerned about his own abilities but was concerned about those of the new, untrained operative. Tim lofted the bank book, looking at Marta with an expression he knew she would understand. She smiled politely. "What ever portion of the carrot you don't give her ... all or none ... you can keep."

"And if we fail?" he asked quickly.

Marta leaned back into her chair, studying him and contemplating the question. The Agency had received a big chunk of change up front simply for taking the operation. Whether or not they succeeded, they kept that fee. Whether or not they succeeded, Marta got paid. So, Tim might as well be, too. She shrugged, letting him know that failure wouldn't affect his payday.

That news made the assignment worth taking. Worth risking, that was. Tim had a reputation for successfully completing assignments. In twelve years with the Agency, he'd never failed at completing his objective. And the low percentage of success here didn't sit well with him. His concern about success was almost enough to make him forget the bank book in his hands. Almost.

He nodded acknowledgment of the assignment and departed.

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

A hand quickly shot into the air, frantically waving about. "Chheeeck..." The voice attached called out. An audible sigh escaped Jenna's lips as she headed over to the table. "Here you go miss, I'm so sorry for the wait." She said as she handed over the check. "Well you should be. When I pay this much for such a lousy meal I shouldn't be stuck sitting here all night as my waitress flounces about." The woman said grabbing her wallet from her purse and slapping a few bills onto the table "Now hurry back with my change. I have places to be."

The smile remained plastered to her face as Jenna silently took the money and headed off. She made the change and immediately walked back to the table placing it into the woman's waiting hand. The woman quickly shoved it and her wallet into her purse, stood up and scoffed before heading out the door.

Jenna wished she could tell herself that this was just one bad night but things had always been this way. Most of the customers that came through the restaurant were rude. Many of them didn't leave much of a tip and as of recently it seemed that more tables didn't even leave a tip at all. It was getting harder and harder to get by, she was lucky if she could scrape together her rent every month.

As much as she wanted to quit, she knew there was nothing better out there for her. So Jenna carried on, heading to another table to take their order.

 

[TimTimTyner]

(OOC: Keep in mind that the pic below does not account for her being in a waitress uniform. I will find a pic for Tim tonight.)

Tim had been coming to the cafe for lunch for the past three days -- since he'd gotten his assignment -- but until today, he'd never sat in Jenna's section. He interacted with her several times over the next hour and a half: ordering coffee, ordering lunch, ordering dessert, ordering more coffee, and asking for various things in between as well. And each time she came to his corner booth, he politely chatted her up without appearing as if he was hitting on her.

"Do you like your job?" he eventually asked on the visit to his table in which he asked for the check. He listened to her answer with genuine and sincere interest, then in a soft voice meant only for Jenna, Tim asked, "I have a proposition for you. A job. No. More of an assignment. It will make you a gob of money--"

He smiled wider. Gob or gobs, more specifically, had been a favorite word of his Gramma, who had raised him. Tim glanced around the cafe at the continuing mayhem of the lunch crowd. He looked back to Jenna and finished, "Gobs enough that you'll never have to hand out a menu or wash syrup from the coins left as your tip again."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"And what exactly would this... Assignment include?" She asked wondering just how crazy he was. "If I did take this job or whatever I would need to know upfront what I'm expected to do for that GOB of money your offering up. Sounds a bit too good to be true..." Jenna thought about what she could do with a gob of money, even if it was just a few hundred it would go a long way. "How much money are you offering?"

 

[TimTimTyner]

"More money than you could earn in a lifetime slinging bacon and flap jacks," Tim said with a sly smile. He pulled a business card from his jacket's breast pocket and slid it toward the edge of the table ... toward Jenna. "Listen, it's not really anything I can talk about here, so..."

He stood and pulled a wad of bills from his jacket's side pocket, stripped off two bills, and set them atop the check. "How about you let me buy you dinner, and we'll talk about it then? And ... if you have doubts about me or my offer--" Tim tap a finger tip upon the $200 on the table and finished, "Then ... enjoy a good dinner on me."

Unless she stopped him, Tim would smile politely, make his pleasant farewell, and head out...

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

Jenna didn't know what to say. She stood there silent until he left. She took his card and placed it in her pocket before continuing on with her day, his words constantly replaying in her head. Was there really a chance for her to get out of this dead end life.

When the last customer left Jenna quickly wiped down the tables. "Goodnight..." She called to the chief as she headed out the door so relieved to be free from the dinner, at least for a few hours. As she walked to her apartment Jenna took out the card and called the number, not really sure what to expect.

 

[TimTimTyner]

"Yes, I've been expecting your call, Miss Davis," the woman at the other end of the line said without hesitation at Jenna's identification of herself. It was obvious that the woman knew more about Jenna that Jenna knew about her ... or about Tim ... or about anything concerning what the hell was going on. She continued with the quickness and precision of a well trained personal assistant, "The dinner reservations are at 7pm at Christoph's On Ninth. You know it, yes...? At the cross street of Harrison Boulevard...?"

She laughed politely, continuing, "Mister Tyner was both unsure of whether or not you would have a dress appropriate for the venue and unsure of how to ask if you would without offending you, so I told him I'd take care of it. Men, right, Miss? They just don't understand that we'll use any excuse to buy a new dress, right? So, don't you worry about a thing. I've already ordered a beautiful dress, plus shoes and accessories. I can have them messengered to you. I just need an address."

In reality, the woman -- and Tim, of course -- already knew Jenna's address. But it would have seemed just a bit creepy and stalking-like to reveal that kind of information. The woman asked Jenna if there was anything else she would need for the evening and told her with a professional tone, "Enjoy your dinner, Miss Davis."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

Jenna could help but wonder what she was getting herself into. Was this really worth the risk? As she walked into her apartment she knew she didn't really have a choice. The tiny apartment was almost empty, she needed the money. She flopped down on the mattress that laid in the middle of the floor, thinking about how nice it would be to actually afford a proper bed.

A knock on the door shook her out of the daydream. Jumping up she rushed to the door. A man stood there, a box in one hand and a clipboard in the other. "Miss Jenna Davis?" He asked. Jenna sight the paper and took the box.

.........

After changing her clothes she quickly headed out the door, realizing she was already running late. As she rushed down the street she was glad he hadn't picked somewhere too far away. Taking a deep breath as she reached the restaurant and walked in.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim had been watching the restaurant's entrance as Jenna entered, and he couldn't help but smile wide at the sight of her. She was simply the most incredible woman in the world, perfect in every way.

It seemed such a shame that his assignment was to get her to bed another man.

As the Hostess escorted Jenna through the crowded dining room toward the reserved table in a back corner, Tim moved that same direction also. He scanned the men in the room as his dinner partner passed, and without fail every single one of them took a second glance -- if not an outright, lasting ogle -- as she passed. He met her at the table, greeting her with, "My Lord ... you are ... ravishing."

"Shall I get your bottle?" the waiter asked Tim in a very polite tone as the latter male helped Jenna into her seat. With a nod of affirmation, the waiter added, "The Chef's choice is already prepared. Are you ready for your hors devours as well?"

"Yes please," Tim told the man, his attention still fully upon Jenna as he himself sat. He caught the waiter just before he left, telling him, "And cancel the chocolate mousse." He ogled Jenna another moment, telling the man while his gaze was firmly on his dinner guest, "I think there's plenty of sweet-ness at the table already."

After the man departed, Tim complimented Jenna, asked her if she was fine with the clothes, and quizzed her about whether she'd ever dined in this restaurant in leap frogging questions that seemed to come as fast as did her answers. They exchanged pleasantries for a bit until the waiter returned to filled their glasses with a very good, very expensive wine, then once again depart.

The man was barely away from the table when -- still giving Jenna a pleased smile -- Tim explained in a calm, steady voice, "I want to train you to impersonate someone ... a woman named Rona Taylor ... then ... I want you to approach Miss Taylor's lover ... I want you to catch his eye ... I want you to make him want you ... and then I want you to get into his home office ... into his computer ... and I want you to copy, then destroy some classified information he stole from the CIA."

Tim gave Jenna just a very short moment to contemplate the very serious explanation he's given with the calm, polite voice of someone explaining to a child how to play Go Fish or Crazy Eights, then added, "And for it ... I'll pay you half a million dollars."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

She nearly chocked on her wine "Half a million dollars....? Are you serious?" Jenna asked. "Aren't you worried he'll realize that I'm not Naomi? I doubt I look identical to this woman?" Jenna continued to question him, not giving time for any answers "I'm not sure you've got the right girl for this..."

 

[TimTimTyner]

The shock on Jenna's face and in her voice was priceless. It reminded Tim of his first international assignment -- taking down a ruthless arms dealer -- and the emotions he'd felt when Marta Lee had handed him a big bag full of hundred dollar bills ... $20 million dollars worth of hundred dollar bills. He'd wanted to disappear into the night and onward to some South Pacific island, to surround himself with naked bathing beauties and just fuck 24 hours a day.

"I've got the right girl," Tim said, despite knowing that thus far the only rightness about Jenna was her perfectly similar appearance to the woman she'd be replacing. "I could stand you side by side with Rona Taylor and even her mother wouldn't know the difference. And you would have to put in a lot of work and, um--"

Tim was about to say give a lot of yourself, but he caught himself. Saying that to a prospective male operative might have made the man think You mean I may be injured ... even seriously hurt? Saying that to a prospective female operative meant You're gonna have to part you legs ... maybe even open and round your lips, and the conversation was still in the surreal and easy-to-walk-away-from stage, so he skipped that ... for now.

The waiter happened by, interrupting Tim with his pleasantries and the refilling of their wine glasses. As soon as the man was gone, Tim continued in a low voice, "Rona Taylor was a former runway model ... did some clothing layouts ... makeup ads. She came out of Macedonia but was actually of mixed Italian and Scandinavian descent. Parents and grandparents were refugees during and following the breakup of Yugoslavia ... managed to get across the Adriatic to a little Italian village where, at age 13."

Another waiter passing interrupted Tim, then he continued, "A French photographer doing a spread in Rome for GQ needed young women to fill in the background of a Speedo photo shoot with some Australian hunk whose name escapes me now. Rona caught the eye of both the photographer and hunk ... she impressed the hell out of them, particularly considering she'd never had her picture taken, let alone by a pro ... and before any one knew what was happening, Rona was in Paris doing fashion shoots."

Another interruption, then, "She jumps The Pond to Canada, and while in Toronto, she meets an American business man named Gregory Thomas. Thomas falls head over heels in lust..." This was where Tim's first opportunity to lose Jenna was going to arrive, but eventually he had to get to the nitty gritty part. He continued, "They begin spending a great amount of time together, but -- because Rona is still underage -- they don't get any of what you might call ... quality time together. Rona is young and conservatively raised ... while Thomas is at that time twice her age and fearful of a statutory rape charge and prison time."

Tim took a second to sip at his wine, then went on. "Eventually, Rona reaches 18. Her career, while not super model level, is supporting her and her family. Thomas invites her to the US ... puts her up in a big house with money and cars and a Personal Assistant ... and shortly after becoming Rona's lover and buying her a diamond big enough to cause most women to lean to one side ... Thomas gets himself arrested and jailed -- pending trial -- for an espionage and conspiracy charge that the US Attorney General trumped up to get him out of circulation for a while."

The waiter interrupted them again with their hors devours. Tim waited until everything was laid out for them and the man again left, before getting to the really nitty gritty part in a much softer, much more serious voice. "Jenna ... Gregory Thomas stole a top secret file from the Defense Department ... important stuff ... dangerous stuff if it were to get into the hands of international terrorists. That file is on a computer in Thomas's home ... a computer we will never be able to get to. We don't know where it is, first ... other than inside the McMansion he calls home sweet home. It has protections on it that will instantly erase the hard drive if tampered with."

Tim chose not to explain that the home also included a heavily armed and sometimes ruthless Security Force of twenty. He was pretty sure Jenna was already concerned about that into which she'd gotten herself.

Up until this point, everything Tim had told Jenna was the truth. From here out, though, there was a bit of far fetchedness mixed with the realities of life.

"The charges against Thomas have been thrown out by a Federal Judge. He'll be getting out in four, maybe five weeks. Eight weeks from yesterday, Thomas has a meeting with an man we know is tied into a half dozen international terrorist organizations. We can't let him take that--"

Again they were interrupted, and when Tim continued, he took a different tack. "During his three years of incarceration, waiting for a trial that will never happen, we've been working with Rona ... turning her to get to that computer ... get that information. She wanted to help us once we explained what Thomas was all about. He thinks she's been in hiding, waiting for him to get free of this ... on his dime, somewhere in Canada. But all along, she was with us ... training ... training to do a good and important thing for her country once he was out."

That was when his expression turned solemn. "Until six weeks ago. She was killed in a car crash. Three years of work down the tubes because of a texting driver." His lips spread in a thin, pleased smile. "Then ... one of our Agents found you. You popped up on one of those sidewalk mounted facial recognition programs, ID'd as one Rona Taylor ... which flagged us immediately. Program didn't know Rona was dead, thank God. And ... now here you are ... with me ... being asked to do a great thing for your country--" His lips spread a bit wider as he finished, "And earn half a million dollars while you're at it."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"One million..." She said sitting back confidently "Without me you can't do this. If I'm putting my life on the line then I think one million is quite the bargain. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?" Jenna asked.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim couldn't help but smirk a bit wider at Jenna's attempt to negotiate a better deal. He had, of course, been given a million dollars to offer her, but she didn't know that. He'd also been planning on keeping a bit of that as a bonus for himself.

"Tell you what," he said, hesitating a moment as the waiter once again, this time delivering their entrees before ensuring all was well and once again making himself scarce. "Let's split the difference ... seven-fifty ... and ... if we manage to find anything else of value during the assignment ... additional information ... goods of value ... we'll split those as well. The man's got money stashed all over the world. I don't doubt for a minute that we might get lucky and get our hands on something purty to keep hold of."

He offered his hand out over the table toward Jenna, asking, "Deal?"

If she took it, Tim would settle back for a nice meal, a bit more ogling, and some light weight questioning about Jenna, her life, and what she would do with it once she was a relatively wealthy woman...

(OOC: That last paragraph was my way of saying that if she bites, they could get into their meal and some lighter weight conversation without you fearing stepping over me. )

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"Fine." Jenna reached out and shook his hand. "What happens when this is all over? I just take the money and go on with my life pretending none of this happened?" She asked pushing the food around her plate a bit "Will I be in danger after?"

 

[TimTimTyner]

Jenna asked, "What happens when this is all over? I just take the money and go on with my life pretending none of this happened?"

"Sure," Tim said casually. "Why not? An artist finishes a work of art and moves on. An architect ... once the building's done..." He shrugged. "Do the job, take your money, and go enjoy your new life. Why not?"

"Will I be in danger after?"

"No," Tim again answered without hesitation, though -- in all honesty -- he couldn't guarantee that at all. "I think I'd ... I don't know ... move somewhere else. Maybe some place warm ... sunny ... sandy. I'm not saying you wouldn't be safe staying behind. I'm just saying ... if you have the means, why not?"

They dove into their meal, which was incredible, and finished the rest of the bottle of expensive wine while they chit chatting about things that had nothing to do with the deal they'd made. When they were about done and had had a far simpler dessert, Tim called for the check.

"We need to start your training as soon as possible," he told Jenna as he signed the check, charging the tab to his room in the hotel above. "I need you ready in a month. That means voice and language ... posture and movement. That's just to fool Thomas. Then there's the computer skills you'll need to get into his system ... past the security. And just in case..."

Tim hesitated for a moment, not wanting to scare Jenna. He finished, "It might be good to teach you some self defense. I don't think you'll need it, but ... better to know and not need, then ... well, the other."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"When will training begin? I can start any time now? Where do I go?" Jenna asked "Will I need to bring anything? Sorry... I don't really know how this works." She sighed "Do you really think I'm capable of pulling this off? Or is this just a long shot and you have no other choices?"

 

[TimTimTyner]

Truth was, when Tim had first been handed the assignment, he'd had very little hope in it succeeding. It was the reason he'd been planning on tempting Jenna with the carrot, then -- when it all came crashing down -- keeping the carrot for himself and letting Thomas bring down the hammer himself. Either way, Tim got paid.

But after having studied Jenna, seeing the similarities between her and Rona, and now sitting with her and seeing how she conducted herself, Tim was thinking that this might actually work. He told her, "I have no other choices. But...! I don't need other choices. I have you. And you're gonna do just fine."

They headed back out to the lobby shared by the restaurant and hotel, where Tim told Jenna, "We want to avoid any suspicious behavior on your part, so... what I need you to do is go to work tomorrow and give notice. Make some excuse. Sick aunt in another state needs you or something they'll buy. Something that won't raise flags. I'll meet you back here again day after tomorrow. Bring your personal items ... a couple of changes of clothes ... you won't need much because we're going to supply you with everything you need to begin your transformation into being Rona. So you don't need to go overboard."

He looked towards the hotel front desk and then back to Jenna and said "I'll be staying here for 3 days. Then we'll go to your first training location... He gave her a slight smile and finished, "And we'll get you started."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"Do you mind if I stick around?... Just for a little while..." Jenna asked "This has all been lot to drop on a person and I'm not really ready to go home." All of this had scared her more then she would ever admit. She put on a brave face but she still wasn't too sure that she could pull this off. It seemed like in just a few hours Jenna's world got a lot more dangerous and she didn't want to be alone.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim considered Jenna's question for a moment, feeling a little twinge in his groin at the thought of spending some time with the beauty ... in his hotel room. You're not gonna fuck her tonight, he thought to himself, just seconds before he turned and lightly gestured Jenna toward the hall leading to the elevators.

"Of course," he said. "My room's on the seventh. Wet bar ... some ten dollar a bag pretzels." He chuckled. "Great view of the river. We can talk about the job more and ... if you're still not ready to go home, you can take the bed ... and I'll take the couch."



Upstairs, Tim mixed a couple of drinks and met Jenna near the big windows looking down upon the lights lining the shore. There was a flotilla lit up by Christmas-like lighting, probably a local event or something put on by the Chamber of Commerce to draw tourist dollars. "It's beautiful."

Tim was actually looking at Jenna when he spoke those two dangerous words, though he'd wanted her to believe he meant it about the view. He knew better than to flirt with an Operative, particularly one he hadn't even begun training yet. But he couldn't help it. Jenna was simply ... stunning.

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

"Yeah, it really is. So is this room..." Jenna said turning away from the window "Usually the only way a girl like me would ever get to see a place like this is if I was some high class hooker. Makes my apartment look like even more of a dump." Taking a long sip of her drink she walked over and sat on the edge of his bed "What would happen if I fail at this? If I can't pull it off?"

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim wasn't sure how honest to be with Jenna. Truth was, this could potentially get her killed. But that isn't something you tell a potential operative even before they actually see the benefit of taking on such a risk ... and by benefit, Tim was thinking money.

"If we fail, we fail," he said casually, sitting on a nice, cushioned chair directly across from where Jenna sat on the bed. There were only a couple of feet between them, and would have loved nothing more than to close that gap and take her into his arms. But he was beginning to feel a bit self conscious about not being totally up front with Jenna about the dangers ... and about the ... well ... the duties she would likely have to take on to make this work. He stared at his drink glass for a moment, then looked to Jenna's body, then to her face before asking quite bluntly, "Are you going to be okay with Thomas taking you into his bed?" He gave her just a moment to contemplate her answer before adding, "I'm ... I'm almost certain that will become ... necessary, Jenna. I'm sorry."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

Silently she got up and began pacing about, her nervous no longer hidden. It was a few minutes before she spoke "I have to have sex with him... Isn't there a way around it? Anything I can do to avoid being in his bed...." She stopped and stood in front of him "I can't do it."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim watched Jenna in silence as she paced about the room, contemplating what he'd told her. He was getting as nervous as she was awaiting a response, finally standing and crossing to refill his tumbler with alcohol, this time straight up and neat.

"I have to have sex with him...?" she finally asked. "Isn't there a way around it? Anything I can do to avoid being in his bed...."

Tim moved a bit closer to Jenna, not for any particular reason that to try to make her feel as though she wasn't in this alone. She stopped right before him and said, "I can't do it."

Tim stepped closer still. He reached out and took Jenna's hand, pressing the glass into it as if offering her some liquid courage. He said with the tiniest of smirks, "Seven hundred ... and fifty ... thousand ... dollars. I'd sleep with Queen Elizabeth and her mother for that kind of money."

 

[Sweetandsexy3]

Jenna took a long sip of the drink and handed it back to him. "He'll know I'm not her... As soon as I have sex with him he'll know. there's only so much a person can fake..." She sighed "This won't work."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Tim hadn't planned on doing what he was about to do for days, possibly weeks. But, the moment just seemed to demand it. He turned away from Jenna and moved to the nearby desk, pulling out the chair and asking politely, "Why don't you sit here."

He opened his laptop and tapped the power button, bringing it out of sleep mode and opened a password window. Tim inserted a flash drive, tapped some keys, then removed the flash drive and replaced it with another. A folder opened with a list of file names that were little more than consecutive dates spanning a handful of years.

"For quite a while now, we have had surveillance on Thomas..." Tim said as he tapped a random file name. A black and white image of surprisingly high quality -- considering it was shot from a tiny, hidden camera high above in a corner -- showed a lavish bedroom...

(OOC: Sweet, this is where the changes I told you about in PM begin.)

...with a rather odd layout. There was a king sized bed as might be expected, but it was positioned in the dead center of the room as opposed to up against a wall as would be expected. Another facet of the bed was that it was a canopy bed but there was no canopy on it. The vertical uprights rose to a horizontal frame, but the side and top canopies had been removed, leaving a skeleton of hard wood and steel behind.

After a moment of no activity, a male subject -- Gregory Thomas -- entered the screen. He walked casually to each of the bed's corners, inspecting something hard to see. It wasn't until he reached the corner nearest the camera's position and pulled from between the mattress and box spring a length of leather strap to which was attached a padded, leather wrist cuff that it became obvious the task for which he was preparing.

Tim didn't have to watch what was happening on the screen. He'd watched this particular surveillance file twice already. In fact, he'd watched all 50 hours of the bedroom surveillance at least once as part of preparing himself to prepare Jenna. She had to be able to pass herself off as Rona, not just standing at Thomas's side but laying under him in bed, too ... or, at times, being strapped to it.