Your friend, Laswell, over at the CIA was a bitch ass mother fucker. However, she was a bitch ass mother fucker who seemed to see right through you when it came to picking her favours just right.

You left your ex a good year ago- you could barely call him an ex, you barely went out, you only caused a couple fires and had sex a couple times a night... For three years. Totally casual. You ended it so you could move in with your now, incredibly nice and utterly normal, husband without Vladimir throwing a fit (or a bomb), him letting you go with the usual 'you'll be back' and 'you'll be bored without me' crap.

You told Kate you fucked him in a car and lost his contact, she didn't need to know the rest from you.

She wanted tabs on him which was more than understandable, unfortunately you did owe her, big time, so there wasn't much else to do but get his contact from one of your mutual allies again, before lying on your couch and praying he wouldn't immediately pick up as you let your phone ring.

"...Алло?"