Arriving once again at Puerto Ayacucho and directing her to the man who would give her fuel, Abigail split from the company of her new, unnamed companion. Because the VRS had captured her before and knew her face, she remained extra cautious at all times, careful in all her movements to stay unobtrusive while she searched. Searched, for the old woman who served as a two way translator back and forth between Abby and the natives. She'd become somewhat well-known within the city, and something of a small legend, since no one expected to see her alive again after she was carted off by the VRS. For this reason, at least with those affiliated with the resistance movements within the city, she could be considered "connected."
Only, the language barrier still stood strong. For lack of a two-way translator, she was often out of luck when her elderly companion was busy teaching or otherwise occupied. As luck would have it, however, on that day and at that moment, she was free and knew exactly what Abby needed. Rumours told of factions which had successfully made contact with the outside world and could have certain materials smuggled in via the various lords of trafficking, for a price. At the moment, all she needed was contact, assuming some kind of tech salvaged from HALO, as some boasted having acquired from the tower formerly standing in the radiated north. But what the London native didn't initially know was that the answer was standing right in front of her in the form of a psychic mutant.
The only thing she asked in return was the restoration of her country. It had been too long since they had been a self-governing people, constantly passed along by foreign powers, one after the other. Even not of the country, Abigail knew all too well what she meant, first-hand experience in the current state cementing the importance of the task in her mind. They were by far the worst. But she knew she couldn't hope to do it alone. Planning to enlist the help of the pale and oddly clad woman as well, for now she needed help from the outside. Now, as then, during the initial conflict over the registration act. Largely unaware of details from the previous events of the first takeover, she couldn't realize the irony of calling upon the aid of the man who first helped subjugate the country to attempt to emancipate it. Establishing a mental link with the woman, she broadcast a mental signal, which would pulsate around the world, but registering only in the mind of one. She made a rather nervous mental call to @quintus_knightfall.
"Hello? Mister Knightfall? Um...Okay, so, you probably don't remember me, but it's Abigail. Aensland. We worked together in Washington DC for a while. The one who...let Charles live. I don't know if you're keeping up with things, but I'm in southern Venezuela and I could use your help. I want to set these people free, but they've divided the country and I'll need to start here. I know of a few resistance groups based inside Puerto...Aya....Aye...."
"Ayacucho," the elderly woman chimed in.
"Ayacucho. So....Yeah. Please? If you can make it in, we would all appreciate it so much. I might know of a way to help, if you need it."
And with that, she cut off. Thanking the woman for her help, she ran out abruptly, hoping to catch the oddly dressed motorcyclist before she left.