Bait And Switch


arthur_icon.gif edward_icon.gif helena_icon.gif peter6_icon.gif

Scene Title Bait And Switch
Synopsis Peter takes Helena to meet his father. All is not as it appears.
Date May 16, 2009

Pinehearst Headquarters

Amid the urban parks of Fort Lee New Jersey, the Pinehearst Corporate Headquarters is an unusual sight. Architecturally designed with an eye for the natural environment, the building is both sleek and modern while retaining a touch of the natural world. The primary facility is a seven story office building rising up out of forested grounds, the reflective green-tinted plate windows show not the neighboring Jersey cityscape, but reflect the natural splendor of the six acres of land the facility rests on. The secondary facility and central lobby is a two-floor structure with a rounded front lined with square columns, an entire green-tinted glass wall behind it shadowing the lobby beyond.

Between these two structures, a central courtyard is filled with neatly landscaped trees surrounded by bark mulch, a fountain prominently displaying a stone slab with the Pinehearst logo flanked by benches, and stone walksways that meander through this lush, natural splendor. Near the lobby entrance, an enormous blue and green double-helix proudly identifies the building as Pinehearst property.

"Just remember… whatever you saw in the future, it hasn't happened yet."

Pale fluorescent light shines down from the ceiling of an elevator, draining what little color is left out of Peter Petrelli's face. "My father— he— he's a good person, I just— just please, please give him the benefit of the doubt." Standing beside Peter in an elevator slowly ascending from the lobby of Pinehearst Headquarters, Helena Dean cannot help but see how easily Peter must have been turned to his father's side.

The display above the elevator doors chimes as it counts up from floor 2 to floor 3, nearly to their destination. At this hour of evening, Pinehearst Headquarters is like a ghost town, with no one in the lobby and only the night security team watching the halls. For all its worth, it really does look like a simple research corporation.

"I— I'm sorry I'm so stuck on this, I just— it's hard to imagine my father doing any of the things you said." Peter's dark brows furrow together as the elevator chimes again, moving from the 3rd floor to the 4th. It's here where the elevator begins to slow, gradually coming to a stop before the doors slide open, revealing a carpeted hallway lined with closed office doors.

The trip back to Cat's was necessary to get cleaned up and presentable. Helena stands next to Peter in a hastily tailored business suit, makeup, hair in a knot, the whole deal. There's an increasing sense of deja vu in this, as she prepares to meet Arthur again, for the first time. He has no reason to hurt her, or so she tells herself, trying to remain calm. She looks sidelong. "I'm willing to be patient," she says quietly, "As long as you're willing to keep an open mind about what I've told you. It's one possible future. You know I have no reason to lie to you." She leaves it at that, as she continues to work on composing herself. Those mental walls, the result of lessons from Claude and continuous battering by Verse, are carefully erected. Helena's going to hold her cards to her chest as much as she can without presenting as suspiscious. The future, as she's noted, can change.

Out into the hall, Peter starts to walk ahead, then stops and turns, reaching out to lightly take one of Helena's hands, squeezing it gently, before brushing his fingers along her palm and letting go, taking a few steps into the lead as he moves down the hall. Along the way past the offices, all of the lights in them are turned off, save for a faint glow of computer monitors still running, and the dim light of the setting sun out the partially curtained windows.

At the end of the hall, a pair of double doors opens into a spacious office. This is more deja-vu for Helena, due to its similarity in appearance to Arthur's office in Pinehearst Tower in that distant future. The glass wall is really the only detail missing, and the touch-surface on his desk — the technology not so readily available in this day and age.

However what hasn't changed, is the way Arthur Petrelli looks. Standing at the window with his hands folded behind his back, a pale green light is filtered through the glass, and his muted reflection focuses on Helena and Peter. Slowly, the mostly gray-haired old man turns, a warm smile coming across his face as he starts to take a few steps across the office.

"Peter," he says in a proud tone, swiftly clearing the space between he and his son, arms out to embrace him in a strong hug. "It's good to see you're doing better."

Arthur's eyes turn their focus to the blonde nearby, an assessing look given, but one that comes with a growing smile and an offer of his hand. "And you must be Helena Dean. It's an absolute pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face, Helena…" there's a crook at the corner of his mouth as a smirk comes over him, "no wonder Peter was so insistant I meet you. Far more beautiful than a photograph can quite describe."

Helena takes the hand without a seeming second of hesitation and shakes it. "Thank you, Mr. Petrelli." she says, her tone direct, forthcoming. Nothing shy or simpering about her. "You've done Peter a world of good." In a way, he has, and she's not lying. "Funny though, he seemed to think you wanted to meet me." Her grin grows as she looks sidelong at Peter and then back to Arthur, as if in conspiracy. Isn't our boy clever?

"You couldn't be any more correct, Helena." Arthur turns, motioning over to the leather sofas surrounding a glass coffee table. "Come on over, take a seat. If it wasn't such a situation with my status among the living, I'd love to have taken you both out to dinner. You'll have to forgive me if all I have is a moderately stocked sidebar and some Apollo bars." One weathered hand motions to a glass dish of blue-wrappered candy bars on the coffee table.

Laughing with a shake of his head, Peter slips one arm around Helena's shoulder, sort've half-guiding her over to the couch. Arthur however, begins to turn and make his way for the sidebar near the enormous floor to ceiling windows where the liquor is set. "I hate to just break right down to business, Helena, but I'm afraid with everything going on right now, there really isn't much other recourse. Time is — quite literally — of the essence."

Talking with his back to the pair, Arthur pulls aside a bottle of whiskey and unstoppers it, then hesitates and glances over his shoulder, "Would either of you like anything to drink?"

"I think a clear head on my part is a wise idea." Helena admits frankly. "Though maybe in the future - when I'm no longer a fugitive, we can take you up on dinner." She lets Peter guide her to the couches, and doesn't seem to object to getting down to business. She certainly wants to hear what sort of business Arthur Petrelli wants to get down to. Twenty years old, and she seems to know who she is, and what she's about as she settles down next to Peter. "I know you have big ideas. Big plans. I'd like to hear them, what you're willing to share."

Moving to rest a hand on Helena's knee as she sits, Peter gives her knee a gentle squeeze as Arthur continues. "Getting yoru record clear is one of the primary concerns I have. People like you, Helena," Arthur pours two glasses of whiskey, stoppering the bottle. there was no verbal exchange between he and Peter, but it seems understood that his son wanted a glass regardless, "they don't deserve to have saved the world and made as many sacrifices as you have, and not receive the public recognition deserved." Turning around with the glasses, Arthur walks over to the leather armchair nearby and holds out a hand, directing one of the glasses of whiskey to simply float through the air towards Peter, settling down on the coffee table.

"However, the woman I approached about that task — Hana Gitelman?" Arthur looks at Helena with an expression that quite clearly informs her that he knows of their association, "She refused to have anything to do with this, or with my eventual goal of the Company's collapse." There's a furrow o fhis brows as he moves to sit, crossing one leg over another as he cradles the whiskey glass in one hand. "That, though, has taken a back seat to what I wanted to talk to you about…"

Arthur's eyes narrow slightly, and he looks to Peter, then to helena, as one of his dark brows rise slowly. "Tell me about your experiences with Doctor Edward Ray."

"Clearing my record is definitely one thing. Recognition is…it just makes people targets. Not unless it's carefully controlled. The world -this country isn't kind to the Evolved, not really." She leaves it at that, and is silent for a moment, expression thoughtful. She doesn't seem to think that telling Arthur about past experience will do anything to harm Phoenix, and Peter is so eager, so desperate for this to work. This, she decides, is safe to share.

"I met Edward Ray one the day of a tour by then President-Elect Rickham. Phoenix was trying to stop the Vanguard from assassinating him. Ray approached and offered me instructions on how to succeed, asked me to trust him and allow the results of my own actions to prove his own. I did what he asked of me, and it worked." Obviously this is just the beginning. She goes on to tell him about how Ray approached her, giving first her, and then the others details on how to stop the Vanguard. How he mysteriously disappeared, and had presumed him dead.

Nodding slowly, Arthur takes a sip of his whiskey, though Peter seems to have a few thoughts on Helena's comments. "People… just need to be able to learn. It's… my dad's talked about that a lot, making people comfortable around people like us, getting the world to accept us. He— " there's a grimace, "he's got a lot of plans for that." Helena's no stranger to that notion, and despite how well Arthur's plans seemed to work, she can't help but remember the monster he became.

"Peter's right, but we can discuss that more in-depth later." Arthur notes with a motion of his glass, "the future isn't going anywhere." Cracking a smile, Arthur takes one more sip of his whiskey before letting it drift out from his hand to telekinetically float across the distance to the coffee table and settle there quietly. "Ray's ability of precognitive predictions - however he manages it — seems remarkable. I'm not sure how much Peter's told you, or how much you know yourself, but Edward is among the group of time-travelers who've come to disrupt everything I'm trying to do. It's… it's staggering the amount of ignorance they have in this regard."

Frowning mildly, Arthur gives a shake of his head, "So despite all of that, given your work-relations with Edward, what's your opinion of him? As a person, I mean. You've worked with him first-hand, and while facts are good, opinions of people I respect the input of are far better."

The future can change. Helena herself is experiencing dissonance, as she listens to this man in front of her and thinks about how, in ten years, he programs Gillian to try and kill her. Kills Hiro, and his father. Strips Peter of some of his power. But the future can change…could there be a way to turn Pinehearst into something that isn't what it becomes? Is there a way to change Arthur Petrelli himself? Looking at Peter's hopeful expression, she has to wonder.

"I can only offer you my opinion of the Edward Ray I knew. Time changes a person, changes how they think and feel. Provides opportunity and experience. The insight I could offer may not be relevant to the fugitives you're talking about."

"Hopefully then, Helena, you'll be willing to give me the full benefit of the doubt."

Those words and that voice cause Peter to jerk up out of his seat, turning towards the office doors where stands a short and darkly clad man with swept back brown hair and circular lensed glasses. Peter's eyes narrow, looking over to his father with a look of confusion and lack of understanding.

Walking into the office, Edward Ray bows his head in a silent nod to Arthur, then turns bright blue eyes to Peter, offering a mild smile before looking to Helena. "It's good to see you're well, Helena. It's— been quite a few months hasn't it?" Months, then that means — "I apologize for interrupting, Arthur. But I figured this was something that shoudn't be left alone for too long."

"Edward!?" Peter's shoulders square, eyes wide in disbelief, while Arthur slowly raises a hand, calm where he sits in his chair. There's a side-long look delivered to Arthur from Peter, and then back to Edward as his brows lower, still distrustful.

"Peter, calm down, son… this is the Edward Ray of your time, the one who was a prisoner of the Company. He has some very valuable information to share, and I think now given that we have the leadership of Phoenix present, it might be in all our best interests to just relax and talk this out."

Helena is surprised, but unlike Peter, she's not exclamatory about it. "Hello, Dr. Ray." she says. "I'm eager to hear what you have to say." Even if she takes it all with a grain of salt. This time it's she who puts a calming hand on Peter's knee briefly. "I hope you won't mind, Mr. Petrelli," she says to Arthur, "If before all's said and done, I can ask some things of you. I also have some important things to share. But one thing at a time, right?" She then looks back up at Edward.

Arthur just nods slowly, while a strained look of patience falls on Edward. The mathematician moves into the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. "I apologize for interrupting your meeting, but— " there's an incline of his head, "Arthur and I came to meet just a day ago. My current sitution is a bit nebulous right now, as my temporally displaced double you all seem to be aware of sprang myself and another young man whom I'm not familiar with, out of the Level-5 holding facility for the Company."

Pacing across the room, Edward manages another hesitant smile. "He had me locked up in a storage room inside of some— building. I'm not entirely certain where he had me kept, it was dark by the time I managed to escape." brows furrowed, Edwars takes a deep breath. "He seemed quite intent on just killing me and replacing me, but as he and I are now both aware — I can't predict his actions and he can't predict mine. However, he seemed to not realize I know which pocket I usually keep my spring baton in." There's a crooked smile as Edward walks over to the windows.

"I'd like to make you the same proposition I did to Arthur, Helena." The mathematician turns, regarding her over his shoulder, "that we all work together to ensure that what my other is trying to accomplish doesn't come to pass. Whatever it is he's letting brew, I predict the world will be largely better off without letting it happen. But in order to do this— we're all going to need to be on the same page."

"I'm willing to listen." Helena says, withdrawing her hand touching Peter to her own lap. "I have to tell you Edward, you pissed off a lot of people who couldn't see the bigger picture for what it was, but there was still fall out. I wish there had been more means for you to grasp the outcome…but you did what you can." She looks at the men all around her. "As I said, I'm willing to listen." Pinehearst, the lesser of two evils, and Phoenix, in the middle of the board. She doesn't trust Arthur, nor even Edward anymore - she believes less in his river now, than she did before. But information is power, and she's content to listen while there is information to be had.

Nodding slowly, Edward steps away from the window. "I expected as much. What I didn't expect was the Haitian catching me unawares in the President's bedroom. But you know— looking back on things— I have a fear why I was so averse to Nathan Petrelli. Not for the man he could become, but fear of the man who supplants him."

One dark brow rises above Peter's eyes as he settles down next to Helena, taking her hand in his. "What do you mean? You— you tried to //kill Nathan!?" There's a venom in Peter's tone, a breath sucked in between clenched teeth. But Peter manages to try and keep that anger under control, even as Arthur just cleans back in his chair and sips on his drink.

"I have reasonable doubt that the Nathan Petrelli currently in our office? Either ir— or will soon be— replaced by his temporally displaced self in order to further my counterpart's plans." There's a quirk of Edward's head to the side. "It's exactly what I would do if I was presented with the option."

"So, in other words," Arthur lowers his glass from his mouth, "We have ourselves a problem. Not only are we facing someone forearmed with knowledge of the future, but someone who's willing to potentially infiltrate the highest levels of government in order to do so. I think you can see, Helena, why I say we're going to need to pool our resources on this one. While Pinehearst has money, we're not exactly swimming in operatives like the Company is."

Peter's eyes wander to Arthur from Helena, and then over to Edward. He sighs, again, it seems to be a common trend for him as of late. "It's going to take a lot of convincing, I know, but," Peter's eyes are steely, tempered by the nervousness instilled from his earlier conversation with Helena. "We can't do this alone, and neither can my dad."

Helena nods to herself. It - it does make sense. Her eyes flick up to Arthur. "My people," she says calmly, "Aren't fodder." Which is not saying yes and not saying no, only making her point. "And you have more problems than that at hand, especially if you want to take down the Company as well." Because Helena's willing to play one side against the other to knock either off the board. "I'm willing to hear what you have in mind for us. I'm not making any promises."

"Your words," Arthur notes, motioning to Helena, "Not mine." His eyes move up to Edward, then back down to the leader of Phoenix. "The Company can wait, right now. For everything I want to accomplish, I'm not going to be able to do anything while trying to fight a battle on two fronts. The arrival of these time travelers changes everything, and I want to devote one hundred-percent of Pinehearst's funding and activity to stopping them and protecting the people of this city— this world from them."

In a moment of silence, Arthur stares vacantly down at the table. "I have scientists and researchers here primarially. I don't have people skilled with the necessary combat training that could make a difference," his brows furrow for a moment, "I don't have people willing to take that risk to protect the world. Helena, your people — Phoenix — have proven themselves capable of rising to even the greatest challenges. I think— I //know— that if my funding and the people loyal to you were to blend together towards this cause, we could defeat them."

Squeezing Helena's hand, Peter offers the young woman a reassuring smile. "Nobody's going to let Phoenix get the short end of the stick on this. But my father's right, no matter what we want to do about the Company, there's no way we can do it while— while these people are trying to kill us. How much longer until what happened to me and Gillian and— " he cuts himself off, "how long until that happens to you? or Cat?"

"Phoenix has good reason to believe that Roger Goodman is being targeted for assassination. I think you need him to stay alive, and I don't think it can wait." Helena tells Arthur, and looks to Edward. Surely he can compute that. But back to the matter at hand, "Like I said…I want to hear the plan before I can agree to it, and even then, I have to consult with my own people first. So lay it out for me." No more blind faith. No more just following whoever seems like they have the idea of what they're doing because she's grasping at straws. No more throwing themselves blind into the night.

Immediately both Edward and Arthur — almost in unison — jerks their attention directly to Helena. "Where did you get that intelligence?" There's a wide-eyed and confused look on Arthur's face as he reaches inside of his jacket pocket, retreiving a cell phone as a stern glance is leveled up at Edward. Arthur quickly presses one of the speed dial buttons, waiting for a response that does not come. Strained, his eyes dart around the room, but he hesitates before doing anything else.

"We don't have a plan yet, Helena. That wil come after some of my people and some of your people get together to make one. But right now the basic idea is that Phoenix would be funded and backed by Pinehearst and supported as much as possible, in the endeavor of taking out these time-travellers."

"Roger," Peter murmurs, rubbing one hand over the side of his head, "Helena, why— why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Even Peter seems shocked about it, though Edward's reaction is a bit more unexpected. He seems genuinely surprised, blinking repeatedly and anxiously pacing around the office.

"We think the target is Goodman." Helena stresses. "We do know there was an order from inside the Company to target someone at highest priority." She looks at Arthur coolly. "My source is a Phoenix operative. And I am under the impression that Goodman is very important to your goals." She looks back to Peter. "Because I literally only learned about it today, and this was something I decided to bring to your father directly." As she watches Edward pace she says quietly, "We've only just begun to touch on everything that needs to be addressed. And you haven't said you're with Phoenix, Peter. I'm still sussing out your Father." She looks to Arthur. "I think you understand Mr. Petrelli, why I'd feel the need to do that. And also acknowledge that my giving you this intel, if it's not an overt agreement, is at least a gesture of willingness to hear what you have to propose."

Troubled by this revelation, Arthur presses another button on his phone, waiting for an answer. Eventually, he turns his focus to the conversation there. "Mason," there's a familiar name, "I need you to get in touch with Goodman immediately. There's a possibility that the Kill Squad might have been mobilized since his position was comprimised." There's a hitch in Arthur's voice as he glances up to Helena, then back down to the phone. "Take Daselles with you, I want to be absolutely certain about what's going on." A nod comes, almost immediately afferwards, "Good, alright. I'll talk to you soon."

While Arthur closes the phone, Peter squeezes Helena's hand tightly. "If Phoenix isn't sick of the problems I cause— if— " he furrows his brow, and it's obvious the issue with Brian Fulk is still strong on his mind. "If I'm accepted, I'm with Phoenix. Either way, I'm with you all the way — no matter what."

Watching Helena and Peter's conversation, Edward begins to make his way over to the sofa they're seated on. "What Arthur and I have to propose, Helena, is cooperation. We want to arrange a meeting — another time — when we can put together a plan everyone can agree on to stop these people. Myself, Arthur, you, perhaps Catherine. A small, close-knit group of leadership to discuss a plan, instead of just laying one out on all of you."

"Yes." Helena tells Peter fiercely, squeezing his hand back. She looks to Edward, considers him a moment and takes breath. "I will consult with my people and give you an answer." is her prompt response. No more throwing herself into things headlong, either. Well, maybe just some things.

Closing his phone, Arthur exhales a slow sigh, "I'm sorry things came up the way they did, but it looks like I'm going to need to cut this meeting short to make certain the Goodman situation is handled delicately." Sliding his phone back into his jacket, Arthur slowly rises to his feet and casts a stare at Edward. "Helena," Arthur quietly moves over to the sofa, offering her his hand again, "It was a pleasure to meet you, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I'm glad you gave me the information you did, though, you may just be able to save a man's life."

Looking over to Peter, tere's a stressed but honest smile as he adds, "You take care of my boy for me, hmm?" One dark brow rises, as he looks back to Helena. "He's all the family I have left." Quite evidently, even Arthur has disowned Nathan.
That is perhaps, one thing Helena feels certain of, and that's this Arthur's current love for his son and desire for his happiness. Idly, she wonders when it changes. "There are a few brief things, if I may?" she asks of Arthur. "First, I've heard that Claire is very ill. I'd like to see her sometime soon, please? She's been one of my closest friends for a long time." Then, "I understand you may have significant documentation on some of the Company's previous projects. If at all possible, I'd like to have a look at them." This may be overtipping her hand, but she has to try.

Arthur hesitates when Helena assk her questions, arching a dark brow slowly. There's a considerate look on hi sface as he glances from Helena to Peter and back again. "Claire isn't sick," he notes in a quiet tone of voice, "I had to take her ability from her, in order to get myself back into a healthy condition after the attempt on my life by my wife. It was also a preventative measure to ensure something like that didn't happen again." The steelyness in the way Arthur delivers those words is much more in line with the way Helena remembers him from the future.

"Claire's fine now, and she's been staying here. If you want I can let her know you came by and have her go talk to you, she's hardly a prisoner here. But without her ability she's been having some— troubles," his eyes flick to Peter, then back to Helena, "adapting. But I promised her I'd return it to her, and I will."

When the topic of the research comes up, Arthur arches one brow, and then shakes his head slowly. "I'm not sure exactly what you're looking for, but if you give me an idea of the projects you're interested in I can have Jennifer compile some data to send your way. We don't have much in the line of hard-copies of Company information, much of it's collected between Roger and I and kept between the two of us. But— I think I know what you might be interested in, given Catherine's situation." There's a knowing smile, "I'll see what I can get."

At that, Peter looks up to his father with an anxious expression. "Dad," his brows furrow closer, "is there anything I can do? To help Roger? I— I feel kind've useless sitting here on the sidelin— "

"Peter," Arthur's tone is chastising, clearly a father talking down to a son who might not understand him. "Given your conditon I think the last thing I want to do is put you up agains tthe Company. Besides, I think Helena might be a bit averse to putting you in the line fo fire until you're back to being invulnerable again." A quick, if not a bit smirking, look is delivered to Helena.

"Actually," Helena says calm as you please, "I'm particularly interested in the documentation of the power assessments on Elle Bishop. But anything you can give us, I'd be grateful for." Her gaze goes sidelong to Peter. "Phoenix will have plenty enough for him to do. We're not restricted to just the Evolved. He knows that."

There's a rise of both of Arthur's brows, and then a slow lowering of them. "Oh, that." There's a clear tone of uncertainty and nervousness in Arthur's voice, and he slowly shakes his head. "We don't have access to any hard copies about the experiments that poor girl was subjected to, but— " dark brows crease together, "give me a few days to make some arrangements, and I might be able to help you speak with someone who was there first-hand."

Looking to Peter, Arthur just manages a faint smirk and then nods, "Just keep him safe," he adds, but it's clear the anxious desire to get out and start figuring out what Goodman's situation is has become far more pressing. "I'll get back to you through Peter." Glancing up to Edward, Arthur raises his brows expectantly, "Coming?"

Looking distracted, Arthur's words snap Edward's focus back to reality, and he stutters out, "Oh— oh, yes. Yes I'll— coming." He passes by Helena, offering her a hesitant smile and a nod of his head before making his way towards the office doors.

Helena's own smile toward Edward is much more confidant and reassuring. Funny - the way Edward follows Arthur is not unlike the way future Peter sort of did with his dad. The seeds are already planted. She rises, and holds her hand out to Peter as the two men depart. "As far as first meetings go," she muses, "It could have gone worse, couldn't it?"

Nodding slowly, Peter wraps both of his arms around Helena's waist, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. "It— it really could have." There's a hesitant smile, and his nose brushes against hers, "I think he likes you," he adds in that hushed tone of voice. "He never likes anyone." Letting his eyes open slowly, Peter leans his head back and looks to Helena, reaching up to brush one lock of hair from her face.

"See?" He notes with a smile, "He isn't all that bad…"


Pinehearst Headquarters, Research Labs

Hard-soled shoes click and clack down a tile hallway, moving with the swift determination of a man knowing where he's going. As Arthur's fast stride carries him past laboratory doors, there's a rough and deep frown cutting over his face. At his side, another man walks with a bit more difficulty keeping stirde, due to his considerable weight and clearly poor health.

Maury Parkman comes to a stop as Arthur does, turning to watch as the senior Petrelli unlocks a keypad barred door, stepping in to a laboratory room with a medical gurney where a man is strapped down and tightly restrained. "You," he sats in a firm tone of voice, "have some explaining to do." Strolling across the room, Arthur moves over to the man in the bed, raising one hand as the smaller figure begins to thrash around wildly.

"Arthur! Arthur, no!" Wide blue eyes stare up at Arthur Petrelli as a hand is laid down over his brow, "I— I'm sorry it won't hapen again! I— I promise, I'll tell you whatever you want to know!" Staring down at the restrained Edward Ray in the bed, Arthur narrows his eyes and nods his head slowly.

"Oh, Edward," Arthur says with a growling tone of voice as he covers Edward's eyes with his palm, "I know it's never going to happen again." Watching on as Arthur does his work, Maury Parkman nods his head to something unsaid, even as Edward's pained screams begint o fill the room, the poor man struggling to move beneath his strapped restraints. Maury steps away from the door, the air shimmering and rippling around him as he fades away in a psychic illusion, leaving a short man in glasses standing behind.

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