Additional Functionality


elisabeth2_icon.gif michael_icon.gif sanderson2_icon.gif sarisa_icon.gif

Scene Title Additional Functionality
Synopsis At the Textile Factory, Sarisa drops some information on some members of FRONTLINE.
Date March 5, 2010

Textile Factory 17

Sarisa Kershner has had a black eye for a few weeks now, and somewhere deep down inside that warms Elisabeth Harrison's heart.

A little.

Today that shiner is hardly noticable, so many weeks out from the Corinthian Gala where she received it. Seated at a table by one of the windows in the round recreation room, Agent Kershner reviews a thick dossier of files with chin resting in hand. It's been cloudy all day, hell it's been cloudy all month, and that diffuse gray light filtering in through the barred windows of the Factory's tower illuminate the paperwork she's handling. It may be the first time that most of FRONTLINE have seen Sarisa in anything other than businesswear, and given the agent's propensity for a shark-like demeanor and her crisp suits, seeing the blonde CIA agent in track pants and a loose alpaca sweater makes her look almost unrecognizable, coupled with her hair held up in a clip messily.

Away from the table Sarisa handles her paperwork on, Michael Spalding and Adelle Sanderson quietly entertain themselves with a game of billiarsa. With Michael's look of concentration and focus coming as he leans in, considering the angle and trajectory of his next shot, he clearly is in contrast to Sanderson, who's propper herself up against the brick wall with pool cue over her shoulder, staring out the window beside herself listlessly at the gray skies and snowy city beyond.

It's a quiet day here in the Factory, a quiet day in New York City.

Those usually only come before the worst of the storm.

It's so damn cold outside that Elisabeth's taken to wearing her thermals under her regular clothes. She only wears the uniform when she's on the base, and quite honestly…. she's off the base more than she's on it lately, so today's the first day she's worn anything even resembling the uniform in almost a week — the pants are tucked into the broken-in combat boots that she obtained from the USS George Washington, which have served her really well in the snow that keeps damn well falling.

She's been working, but it's been at night a lot after she has to be back on the base's grounds. She's got her blonde hair clipped up appropriately and there's a dusting of white crystals across her head when she lets herself into the room. "It's fucking miserable out there," she grouses softly as she comes through the room heading for the coffee pot that resides in the room.

The emergence brings a blue-eyed look over the wire frames of reading glasses from Sarisa, one dark brow raised in silence. Where she is a quiet observer to the arrival of Elisabeth Harrison, Michael and Sanderson's reactions are far less reserved. "Hey there, Harrison." Michael offers just after making his shot, sending the cue ball cracking around the table before sinking the five-ball in the far side pocket. "It's getting pretty bad out therem yeah. Bentley got a couple of Snowmobiles yesterday from a pawn shop, brought htem in and moved them to the garage… I'm not really sure what he's thinking with that, but— "

"We're gonna' ride 'em, obviously." Sanderson admits with a lopsided smile, leaving her cue stick behind as she leans off of the wall and circles the table towards where Liz has come in. "This weather's miserable. I'm thinking about requesting a day of leave and having Rachel take me down to the Camen islands, you in?" Sanderson quirks up a brow with a crooked smile, leaning in to nudge an elbow against Elisabeth's ribs.

Clearing her throat, Sarisa looks up from her paperwork and takes off her glasses. "No one's getting a day off," she admits with a flat tone of voice. "I'm handling some paperwork right now that will assign individual members of Squads one and two as assistants to disaster relief efforts if this snow continues to worsen. Furthermore…" Sarisa's lips purse into a frustrated expression. "I've got some information for you all that doesn't leave this room, and I guess now's better than never. I'll have to let the others know later."

Ffft. Elisabeth hasn't taken a day off since she got here. Not really. She's been out on the town, all right, but she's been working. "Glad we're going to be lending a hand. For Christ's sake, I got my ass mugged last night by some guy desperate to feed his kids," Elisabeth retorts, clearly no worse for wear from it. She gets nudged by Sanderson and half-smiles. "Nah…. the islands gotta wait til the job is done, lady. You know the rules," she winks a bit. And then as she doctors her coffee mightily and raises it to her lips to drink from it, crystal blue eyes turn to Sarisa curiously.

"It's your shot…" Michael says helplessly to Sanderson's back, then exhales a sign and leans his pool cue up against the billard table. Dark eyes level on Sarisa, and as Michael makes his way around the table to the side closer to the table she's at, Sanderson is offering up a teasingly disappointed look to Elisabeth before tucking her hands in the pockets of her jeans and moving over to where Sarisa's sitting.

Closing the folder of paperwork she's been managing, Sarisa folds the arms of her glasses closed and sets them down on the table in front of herself. "I'm sure most of you have some concerns about the H5N10 virus by now?" Blue eyes angle a look up to Elisabeth, then over to Sanderson and Michael. The nods from the team elicit a grimace from Sarisa. "I received a notice the other day, indicating that the government has been working round the clock on an inoculation for it. It won't help the people already sick but it will provide a measure of resistance for those that have not yet been infected. If the estimates I'm hearing are right, the CDC will have a production of the inoculation within two weeks."

Brows furrowed, Michael offers a curious look to Sanderson, then Elisabeth, then back to Sarisa as she continues. "FRONTLINE and other government agencies have been secured first-call on this inoculation and you're all going to recieve a shot to prevent infection and spread of the virus. We're dealing with more than just a strain of influenza, frome verything I'm hearing. But this whole affairs is being handled very close to the chest to avoid a public panic."

Elisabeth's tone is mild as she replies. "Too late. There's plenty of grist for the mill out on the streets already, from rumors about quarantine camps to actual pictures that are claimed to be of a quarantine camp to rumors of tainted flu vaccines because of the recall. Rebel's doing a pretty good job of desseminating intel." She sips from her cup. "I highly recommend we all start carrying basic surgical masks on us when we're out — apparently the new flu is taking away abilities of those exposed. I haven't heard whether that's a temporary effect yet — the people I've been in touch with at ground level are only just starting to come down with it. So no one knows."

"Unfounded paranoia-inducing propoganda outlets aside…" Sarisa strains with a pinch of her fingers over the bridge of her nose, eyes shut for a moment. "We're going to be getting the injections for each of us. Until then I'd prefer if you'd all avoid anyone who you know or suspect might be infected for your own safety. If FRONTLINE got taken out of comission by this virus, it could be disastrous. But we should have the situation under control in a few weeks, the CDC is getting on this case as fast as possible."

Brows tensed and dark eyes leveled at Elisabeth, Michael is silent for a moment before looking back at Sarisa. "Thank you for letting us know about this, Sir. It'll be a relief to know that we won't have to worry about infection when we're off the job. I think this virus might be one of the few things I can't just adapt to and fight off."

Sanderson seems more thoughtful, teeth toying with her lower lip and blue eyes staring down at her feet. Disquiet traces across her expression, and as she draws in a slow breath the look she affords Sarisa is silently questioning. Sarisa's expression belies no answer, if one is given. "As for the other bit of info, you're all going to be on-call from here on out to aid the National Guard in crisis situations. I know this expands out duties outside of law-enforcement, but with the snow looking to be as bad as it is, they could use the hand. Hopefully we won't need to be called out, but if we are it might not be the entire team at once. Just a select member here and there."

Elisabeth just smiles faintly behind her cup. Whatever she thinks of Sarisa's rebuke, she doesn't bother to respond to. She does keep her eyes on Sarisa, though, and she asks, "Who're they testing the vaccine on? Because as I recall, vaccinations require either live or dead samples of the virus in question, and I have some concerns about taking a vaccination that contains a live virus that is, in fact, removing Evo powers. Which information, by the way, is not coming from a paranoia-inducing propaganda machine, it's coming from information freely available to anyone who walks into the shelters and free clinics and speaks to the doctors and nurses working there." She takes another swallow of her coffee and sets the cup down.

"I'm happy to help the Guard out wherever necessary — not the first time I've done it. I've got some contacts in the Guard from the last three major problems the city's seen. Do we have someplace for people who are suspected to be infected with the Evo Superflu to go? That information might be good to put on the streets."

"The CDC didn't inform me of how the testing is being done, I imagine how any virus testing is done; clinical trials and volunteers." Arching one brow, Sarisa looks towards Sanderson for a moment, then back to Elisabeth. "As far as the clinics go, that's not my job really. I haven't heard anything about it, aside from all of the major hospitals having wings reserved for H5N10 patients, but— that's been in the news lately." Threading an errand lock of blonde hair behind one ear, Sarisa rests her arms forward on the table.

"Didn't I hear something about Mayor Lockheart talking about quarantines?" Michael quirks a brow, looking from Liz to Sarisa. That much elicits a side-long look from Sanderson, and the operations director exhales a sigh when she heard the 'Q Word'.

"Maybe…" Sarisa says with a purse of her lips, "I don't know. They're not sharing any information with me about it, but it wouldn't be unprecidented. During the largest part of the H1N1 scare in the fall, sick people were routinely quarantined in their homes. If it's something more major, it hasn't been fit to be handed to me yet. I figure local law-enforcement will be handling that, not us. But— " Sarisa's brows furrow, "— we are dealing with a potential Evolved quarantine. Which… which means we may be called in to handle the situations should it arise. It's ont pretty, but if quarantine orders do come down and there's violent reactions we're the only ones outfitted to handle it."

Now Elisabeth glances at the other two. "You do realize that if they start to institute quarantines, all hell will break loose, right?" She moves to set her coffee cup down. "Whatever you think of what I did before this, whatever you think of my actions…. honestly? I don't much care. What I do care about is keeping the people of this town safe or I wouldn't be here. For those of you not native to this town, let me enlighten you a little bit. I've spent my whole career on these streets, from 9/11 to Midtown to the Narrows." She looks between the three of them.

"Most towns are not going to have the problems that we will — LA might, some of the bigger metropolitan areas almost certainly will. Manhattan has a large concentration of Evos. Maybe the largest in the country, I don't know that for sure because I haven't looked at the numbers. But what I can tell you is that whether you believe the rumor-mongering Rebel, there are going to be a lot of Evos, particularly the ones in this town who are afraid who will. The last time they had the Guard out in this area, SCOUT was recieving 40 or 50 calls a day about violence. We were beyond overwhelmed."

"Which is exactly why we'll continue to do our jobs." Sarisa flatly answers to Elisabeth's notion. "No one panicked over the fall when there were door to door quarantins of H1N1 infected in their homes. The CDC and Fema have to be able to control the flow of this sickness or countless people are going to die. Panic will be even greater if we just leave the infected out on the streets and the situation escalates. None of this is even my decision, Harrison, I'm no where near the chain of command for emergency situations. All I do is carry a very large hammer that strikes down the nails the pop up."

"Elisabeth…" Michael interjects, "I know where you're coming from on this. But I don't even know if there's a better option. I don't know if you've been watching television lately, but on the news— there's people saying that we're all the next black death. That the virus is going to jump to ordinary people and it's just going to get worse. Can you imagine the violence groups like Humanis First would be abel to do towards the Evolved if something isn't done?"

Sarisa hesitates on following up, leaning back and watching Michael as he speaks. "Trust me, the last thing I want is pandemonium, but we're getting to the point where people are terrified of this virus. People are dying, and people like us are to blame for it because we're the only ones who can get sick. How much longer do you think it's going to take before scared people start putting together lynch mobs to get the infected out of an area? An apartment complex kicking down the door of their one Evolved resident, who might not even be sick, out of fear?"

Biting down on his lower lip, Michael just shakes his head slowly. "The idea of something like door-to-door quarantine is one thing, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if the infected were relocated to an area or a facility that can better treat them, and protect them from the public until we can get that under control. I've seen the Rebel stuff, it was all over the news recently. This is the kind of fear-mongering that's going to make this all happen. People are scared because he's scaring them…"

"Although everything you're laying out is a worst case scenario…. this is what I'm trying to say to you: It's what we need to be ready for," Elisabeth replies calmly. "No one panicked over being quarantined in their homes, people will panic if they're quarantined away from family." She glances at Michael and nods to him, her tone not one of confrontation but of weariness and worry.

"That's exactly what I'm worried about, and why I'm warning you to be on guard from the start, Michael. The first thing we need to be stressing when we do need to deal with anyone we think is sick is VOLUNTARY quarantine in their own homes, just like the H1N1. We have to do our level best to keep them calm so we don't have to face an actual concentration-camp-like quarantine." She looks at Sarisa. "I'll do what I can to get the more public faces — people like Helena and Cat and the ones who have sympathy factors and followings — to start talking up the voluntary in-home quarantines. They can potentially turn the tide so that it stays at a low ebb, at least among their own followings."

Nodding her head slowly, Sarisa breathes in deep and exhales a sign of breath. That pause allows Sanderson to come in with a crooked smile and more upbeat words. "If— you need any help, I've got some spare time. I wouldn't mind going to talk to them with you, I mean— I know some of them anyway." That much elicits a look from Michael with one brow raised and a stupefied expression. He doesn't voice his concern, however, he just jumps on the bandwagon.

"That goes double for me. Backup's what it's all about, right? I can take some time out of my day to go on down and see them with you." It's clear to Liz that Michael has a double intention with this, given their previous conversationa bout Helena. Sanderson offers Michael an askance look and then cracks a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

"Worry about the snow, right now, all of you." Both of Sarisa's brows raise, "Worry about something we can help with. If you want to try and give advice to the CDC, Elisabeth, I'm not the one you need to talk to. You'd need to speak to Howard Lemay, he's a Homeland Security liason to the CDC and Fema in New York. I can get you his number if you'd honestly like to discuss the situation with him, but I can't say he'll have a different reaction than I did."

Elisabeth shrugs a little bit and says quietly, "It can't hurt to talk to people. I may yet do that; I can be somewhat persuasive sometimes." Not always, but hey… the police commissioner listened to her. A little. *sigh* "But let's start at the grassroots, hrm? Let's get the people who're most likely to be problems on our side of this." There's a hint of bitterness to her eyes, though her tone reflects none of it as she asks mildly, "It is, after all, one of the reasons you wanted me on board, isn't it?" But she looks at Michael and Sanderson. "If we can get out ahead of it, maybe we can head some of it off. Maybe not. But it's better than doing nothing." She smiles faintly. "At least I'll know we tried. Then I can focus on National Guard calls." And fucking insane(ly pissed off) Russians.

"Before you three go off to play public relations…" Sarisa manages something of a faint smile. "Harrison, I want you to know that we have every available agent in the state looking for Koslow and Dreyfus. Agent Lancaster and a large portion of Homeland Security are doing the bets they can to try and stay ahead of them. We're doing absolutely everything we can, and if you need additional security for you or your family, just let me know and I'll be on it."

Brows furrowed, Sarisa offers a firm look up to Liz in the momentary silence. "Just… please remember, we're not law enforcement officers. But," Sarisa quirks her head to the side, "that's not saying accidents don't happen in the need for self-defense." It's as close to implied consent as Sarisa is going to give, but it still means that Harrison has to keep her own ass covered if she goes after them.

Elisabeth's chin comes up and she says quietly, "Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I've been in contact with Agent Lancaster personally as well." There's a flash of ruthlessness that passes so quickly through her expression it might have escaped even Sarisa Kershner's notice…. or not. The blond will do what she has to in order to protect the only family she has left. "I've also asked my old partner and every cop I ever knew to keep an eye out. I'm reasonably sure they're secure where they are, but I'll keep the offer in mind." She smirks faintly. "I almost stashed my father in your office, ma'am…. then I figured that if the two of you actually got along, I might be in deep shit," she quips. She has something of a lack of reverence for Kershner, though she shows respect for the woman even in that tease.

Michael cracks a smile and laughs, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck as he moves back towards the Billiard table and waves a gesture towards Sanderson. "C'mon we have a game to finish, your ass isn't going to get kicked all by itself." Flashing a teasing scowl, Sanderson huffs out a sharp breath and storms after Michael, hands on her hips as she walks and elbows akimbo. Watching them move, Sarisa manages something of a wry smile, leaning back on her chair as blue eyes come to focus on Harrison again, one brow raised.

"Really?" The CIA agent queries rhetorically, and then in the only way possible, she drops theone thing she can possibly say that might come off as her actually being somewhat light-hearted.

"Is your father single?"

Elisabeth laughs outright, though there is sadness in her expression. "He's actually dating again. For the first time since my mom died." She pauses, amusement lightening the sadness. "But if he liked you, God forbid, I might get the 'listen to your boss' lecture or something." She rolls her eyes theatrically at Sarisa and moves to pick her coffee cup back up, commenting drily, "And then I'd have to face the whole disappointment factor when I do something that pissed you off."

Because she's pretty sure that is inevitable.

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