Participants:
| Scene Title | Shifting Focus |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Peter belatedly informs Hana that they want some other information… very, very soon. |
| Date | September 16, 2008 |
Belvedere Castle, Central Park
Constructed from the same stone as the Vista Point which supports it, Belvedere Castle seems to rise out of the earth itself. The miniature Gothic castle is easily visible from a distance, courtesy of both its height and the American flag fluttering from the turret's pinnacle. Its windows overlook views of Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, and the Great Lawn. The interior, however, is anything but Gothic; the halls on both floors are filled with telescopes, microscopes, paper-mache birds, skeletons, and feathers, all laid out as parts of an interactive exhibit. In the Henry Luce Nature Observatory, visitors can borrow binoculars, notepads, maps, and guidebooks with which to study the wildlife of the park.
It all started with an inoccuous phone call.
«It's me. Sorry about being out of touch, a lot's been going on. We're shifting focus from what I talked about to a more specific target. Is it safe to discuss over this line, or should we meet face to face?»
Words translated into bits of digital information bounced from Earth to a Satellite and back to Earth, direct data transmission into the mind of a singular individual with the capability to process the incomprehensible bursts of data the way a normal person would process waves of sound. It was the beginning of a meeting. One that would, invariably, out into motion a dire series of events.
Standing beneath the pavillion at Belvedere Castle, it is Peter Petrelli's turn to wait for his prospective guest, a mirroring of their previous encounter. He paces, nervously, across the flagstone courtyard beneath the roof, spying shadows between the tall columns that hold up the aging room. Simply the prospect meeting with Hana Gitelman has Peter on edge, for all he trusts her there's still a sensation like dealing with a loaded gun when in her presence. And now he has the added prospect of putting her on a timeline and asking for more than just a favor, asking her to put herself at risk. It's enough to shake him.
By this hour of night, with the sky having finally cleared up to reveal dim stars through the polluted skies, Belvedere Castle has all but cleared out. The place much as Peter recalls it from his meeting here with Doctor Suresh, a dismal and gray stone edifice that is slowly succumbing, like so much of the city, to decay. He doesn't miss the comparison to the other site of decay where he had met Hana before. It was starting to become a disturbing trend.
The motorcycle left somewhere behind her, Hana makes her quiet way through the park, using every bit of that stealth training Mossad and the Company saw fit to give her. It's good to keep in practice. And she doesn't want any surprises following her tonight — or any more of them, to be precise. Dressed in her usual black, the ex-agent is one more shadow in the darkness, if one with a life and a mind of its own.
She pauses briefly a short distance away, gazing into the pavilion, watching Peter fidget with nerves. Good. Let him worry. Let him wait. For all that the name Hana means 'grace', there is no mention of 'gracious' in any description ever made of the technopath's personality. But neither is she cruel, and so Hana does not leave him to wait for very long.
"Petrelli." The three syllables of the name are drawn out just slightly, but that does nothing to gentle the tone in which they are spoken. Finishing her approach to the pavilion in plain sight, Hana has no weapons in immediate evidence — but they're there. And not very far beneath the surface. "What part of 'call me' did you not understand?" It's been a week and a half. He'd better have a good reason for the delay.
Startled at first, by Hana's calling out of his name, Peter relaxes — as much as he can — once he sees her approaching up the steps. "Something came up, a lot of somethings." With slow steps, Peter clears some of the distance between he and Hana, but wisely chooses to keep his distance, one hand very slowly pulling his coat open, the other reaching into an interior pocket, all the while keeping eye-contact on Hana. He keeps his movements slow, the way someone behaves around an unknown wild animal, and withdraws a handful of photographs. He holds them out, "See for yourself," then lets each one float through the air slowly towards Hana, the glossy pictures showing a myriad of the prophetic artwork done recently by both himself and Eve.
A glass etching of a man on a bench, with his shadow twisted into a strange symbol.
One of a woman made of black silhouette, ripping at the flesh of a man's arm.
One of a dirty concrete wall with wild spray-painted eccentricies.
One of a brick wall with a surrealist painting of a plant growing out of the ground.
Lastly, a portrait of Sylar.
Peter waits a moment, letting each picture drift in front of Hana, held up by his thoughts, allowing her to view them one by one. "I was approached by Doctor Mohinder Suresh — Here, actually — and he informed me that the Company is currently in possession of Sylar in a holding facility disguised as a Primatech Paper building, located in the Bronx." His shoulder rolls, working out a tense cramp, "If I had to guess, it goes by the codename Level Five." He curls his fingers, displaying one of Eve's paintings with that name stenciled on the wall behind Sylar's visage. "Straight to the point, that's our target. We want to move on it by the end of the week, and we'll need floor plans at the very least." His eyes divert to the ground. "At the most, your direct help disabling security while we go in…"
A distinctly displeased wild animal, at that. Dark eyes survey the pictures dispassionately, giving each one only a brief moment's consideration — all the analyst really needs, in this circumstance. Her gaze returns to Peter afterwards, and if his statements surprise her, a single blink is the only outward expression of it.
"Level Five," Hana echoes, voice quiet but not at all soft. For all that there are no sibilants in the phrase, she makes of it a hiss. "You damned fool. Forget the dragon's den; you want to jump straight into its open mouth?" There is no give in her expression, no gentling of her posture; Hana does glance away, briefly considering the still water below the castle. Admittedly, it's the sort of direct and forceful action that's always appealed to her — but not Hana's desired target. When her gaze returns to Peter, it's as coolly intent as ever. "And if you — " Idiot. Idiots, probably, given that he was in cahoots with PARIAH last time they spoke. "— survive getting in, what exactly do you think you're going to do?"
Peter narrows his eyes for a moment, shifting them to one side, then back again, "Kill Sylar." It's rather matter-of-fact, "If you can get a roster of other people contained there, what their powers are, why they were brought in — Maybe free them too. That's not my concern, though, all I want to do is make sure that Sylar doesn't break out of that place and have his hands on whatever open buffet of powers are contained there. The company tried to keep him locked away once, for all the good it did." His brow tenses, head shaking slowly, "Faces and names, if you can get that, and what they can do. I won't know exact details on what we're going to accomplish until I have that — Not outside of my own goal, anyway."
Breathing out a sigh, Peter runs both of his hands over his head, the pictures slowly flipping through the air back towards him, and to his eventually unbusied hand. "After that, if she isn't kept down there anyway — We're going after Molly. Cripple their ability to track us, then start hitting the weaker facilities. I figure at the very least, if we can make this strike work, it'll be a devastating blow to the Company. From there, we keep kicking while they're down." He doesn't address her distasteful expression, sliding the photos back into his jacket. "Will you help, or not?"
Dark eyes narrow as Peter resumes speaking. Doesn't ask for much, does he? "I expect most of those records are paper." Faces, names, abilities… the info on their disappeared captives, especially the ones that were never meant to see daylight again, isn't going to be put where any highly skilled hacker might happen to worm their way in.
What does get a reaction from Hana — if no more than a flicker in her eyes — is the mention of Molly. Oh, yes. "The Walker system." As her partner so eloquently refers to the girl. Once more, Peter manages to find a button and push it in the nick of time.
Hana considers. If they could get Molly away… it would be a definite benefit, on so many levels. But she lets the silence stretch before finally facing the supplicant again. "While you were figuring out the meaning of call — " No, he hasn't been forgiven for that. "— did you at least get that system up?" And his answer had better be 'yes'; the timbre of the statement forbids any other. Not and get Hana's help with this, at any rate.
"I'll do that as soon as I get back." Peter says with a nod, "You'll have your target to send the information to." He dithers, looking away from Hana finally, but then adds, "…and one more thing." Peter has taken Hana's patience a good, long distance tonight, and yet he seems not to be content with that. While hesitant to ask anything further of her, it doesn't stop him. "We might need a place to bring the injured after everything's done. I talked to Bennet about passing people we liberate through him already, but I want to know if we can use your facilities to take care of the wounded." Peter's eyes divert out to the park, staring blankly between two of the columns that support the pavillion roof. "Even if you only know of somewhere, I can look into it."
More? He does have a death wish. Dark eyes narrow — a lot — and the woman just stares at him for a few moments. A cool stare, yielding neither consent nor denial. "If you get out," Hana states, "and if you do so cleanly — " There's the real catch. "— someone will meet you." Maybe it'll be Hana. Maybe it'll be Bennet. Or maybe they'll toss one of the others at PARIAH. He'll just have to find out! The corollary? If the plan goes six ways to Sunday, they are on their own. She won't bend to Peter's request any further than that. A moment's chilly silence. "Is there anything else?"
Peter watches Hana carefully as she gives her response, and it's crystal clear what she means. He nods, just once, and while the passing notion of joking around with a third request crosses his mind, he has a feeling it would be the last thing that did if he went through with it. "I'll be in touch." Peter says as affirmation of the meeting's conclusion, "I'll owe you, after this is done." Peter cracks a smile, "Not that you didn't already know that." Perhaps there was room for a little humor after all.
"Yes. You do." Humor is not Hana's forte; sorry, Pete. "Just do a better job of it, this time." The keeping in touch, that is. The woman turns on her heel and stalks back out of the pavilion — not in a huff, or even with any emotion at all. It's just the way she moves.
Approximately one hour later…
ppetrelli07: Tag, you're it.
 September 16th: Out of a Hat |
Previously in this storyline… Out of a Hat Next in this storyline… |
 September 16th: About the Big Bad Boogeyman |