Batter Up

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bao-wei_icon.gif brian2_icon.gif

Scene Title Batter Up
Synopsis Brian returns with something very valuable, and Bao-Wei in turn reels him in further; partly without him even having realized.
Date August 17, 2009

Cong Medical Clinic


The evening is approaching with the creeping look of dark over the horizon, and the night-owls are beginning to come from their hollows; Doctor Cong's clinic has been closed to the public for a short while now, though there is one other person aside from the doctor still there. That seemingly ever-present desk nurse. This time, however, she actually seems to be getting ready to leave her post, a large purse over her shoulder while she stands there filing through the lone papers still on her desk.

Bao-Wei is in his office, which has had a slight bit of rearranging so that his chair is completely facing the door. He learned the first time that even having it a bit off-center was a mistake after all.

"Nihao."

Winters seems very cheery, greeting the nurse as he walks by her swiftly. A small black brief case is in his hand. And.. handcuffed to his wrist. Wearing a gray suit and a blue shirt under, his sunglasses are worn low on his nose. "Have a great night." He smiles at the nurse over his shoulder as he goes to Bao-Wei's office.

Without knocking, the door opens and Winters steps in cleanly. "Good evening Doctor Cong. You look happy to see me." Smile.
She is tiny, but there's a considerable attitude showing through when the young woman rolls her eyes and saunters her way out the door after he moves inside. Sometimes it's hard to tell how he convinced her to work here- the gesture is certainly out of place, considering who runs the show. She seems too independent sometimes.

Bao-Wei's glasses are low on his nose as well, though they are those same old silver rims that he reads through with that same old imperious look. When Winters enters, Doctor Cong lifts his eyes up, followed by a knitting rise of his browline. When he answered that phone call earlier, he was not expecting it to be Brian again, that is for sure. Frankly, he never expected to hear from him again, either. Full of surprises. For this reason, the smiling agent inside his door is regarded coolly, and not so much with that incendiary scowl from times previous.

"I'm ecstatic." Comes the fitting, almost drawling response. "Sit, if you'd please."

"Of course."

Brian takes a seat, scooting close up to the desk, he leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. "I was hoping to discuss deeper involvement in the Flying Dragons. I feel like I have more to offer. Basically, I'm saying, put me in coach, I'm ready to play." Winters smiles slightly at the scary Chinaman on the other side of the desk. The brief case dangles against the chair casually.

Bao-Wei leans back in the chair he hasn't moved to get up from- he has no purpose for feigning manners right now, and instead just watches Brian across the desk. His sleeves have long been rolled midway up, his coat slung around the back of his seat. One hand still has a ballpoint pen in it, the end tapping lightly against the surface below, drawing a tad more attention to that menacing Fu Dog all along his right forearm. It seems to have been retouched recently, yet there is no trace of having been needled with.

"And what of the job I gave you before? I would possibly be more inclined should you actually have come back with the results of that." The moment of truth- did he do it or not?

"Oh." Brian notes, "That."

The brief case is set up on the table, his hand cuffed to the handle securely. With two hands, he goes to undo the latches on each side. The briefcase is opened to reveal a audio recorder. Glancing over to Bao-Wei, he then reaches forward to click play.

'HARDER. HARDER. YOU FIL—

Pause. "Wrong tape." Winters says cleanly, going to switch one out and place another in, his eyes watchig Bao-wei from behind the sunglasses. The faintest of grins playing on his features. Play.

"Well, Operation Lantern is our primary objective. Special Agent Kershner is heading both that in coalition with Chicago Air and acting as the administrative head for Unit-01. We're planning on moving on Staten Island in that six month window. Operation Lantern is designed to soften the ground, as it were, for our primary offensive. The first few months are going to be low-to-ground intel gathering on the Island outside of what has already been provided to us by Chicago Air. During this time, Unit-01 will protect and serve against violent Evolved when they're called in by local law enforcement. They're not police, and we're emphasizing that point. They are a sugrical instrument to be utilized by law-enforcement to defuse dangerous situations that SCOUT, frankly, is not cut out for."

Brian leans back, relaxing.

"Between you, me, and your wall over there, SCOUT is being dissolved. The project was a good idea, but I've heard talk from the Justice department that FRONTLINE is going to be filling its niche. While I don't know what the NYPD is going to put together in its place, I know several members of SCOUT are being considered for advancement into FRONTLINE in the future.The move on Staten Island isn't going to be publicized, not until it's already started. The idea is to roll in and take control of the Rookery and pave the way for federal agents and NYPD to start rounding up known criminals and wanted fugitives hiding in the area. Special Agent Kershner has been gathering intelligence with her agents in the area for months now, and we're pretty sure we have a solid idea where some human trafficking is going on, and we're going to need to put that down. But this isn't going to be clear-cutting. Legitimate residents and law-abiding citizens will have nothing to fear, we just want to route the criminal element, and FRONTLINE is going to be the Federal Government's sledgehammer for that when the FBI comes in."

Reaching forward, Brian presses pause. The voice on the tape was that of General Autumn's.

"Satisfied?" Brian asks.

Perhaps it is forty years of practice, or perhaps it is due to his station and the Ye siblings, but when that first voice rings out through his office, Doctor Cong finds himself barely managing to not flinch angrily at it. Though frankly, he silently hopes that his nurse is long gone and nobody in the buildings to either side was listening too closely.

The faint smile on Brian's face is met with a rigid and rather cold glare.

His ears, thank goodness, were already ready to listen again by the time that the correct tape starts. Doctor Cong stays quiet where he sits, the pen held down by idle fingers and both eyes examining the recorder out of habit. It is not until several seconds after Brian pauses it and speaks that Bao-Wei reacts. It is subtle, but nonetheless it is an aura of triumph. "Not publicized, he says. We'll see about that, now won't we." And by the changed tone of his voice, that would be a big 'yes' to the question of satisfaction. As to how he knows of authenticity, that is left to flutter through the air. "Is there any more?"

"That first tape is for a different client." And that's the only explanation he'll give unless the issue is pursued further. He gives a shrug to the cold glare. Whatya gonna do?

"The rest is mostly drivle. That is the meat." Brian points out. He goes to release the handcuff from his hand. The rest of the tape is left for Bao-Wei. Though all of Tracy's voice has been edited out and any mention Autumn gives of Tracy or her being 'strange' is also cut out. But Bao-Wei gets the most of it.

"Now. Can we talk about what I asked about?"
For a split second, Doctor Cong does look doubtful about the truth to that, but he seems to give Brian the benefit of it.

"About putting you in the game?" Bao-Wei is still mentally breezing back through the General's words, and piecing them together with things that are otherwise. "Though I did not expect such, you did the job you were given…" His fingers find the black pen beneath them, and his other hand finds a blank piece of paper. "I gave you the most unlikely thing that I had at the time, no less…

"If you want to be in this game any further, you're going to have to now deal with Liu Ye. I'm sure he owes you a …favor, so I am sure that making a meeting will not be difficult for either of you." The pen writes over the paper in a disturbingly proper cursive script- a date, time, place.

Brian steeples his fingers over the desk as he watches Bao-Wei. His lips pull back slightly. Lie Ye. The son of the man he killed. Who is most likely to be a bit less forgiving than Bao-Wei. "He won't be very happy to see me." Brian points out flatly, eyeing the paper. He makes no other protest though. Taking the paper, he looks up.

"And my payment?"

"You did him a service, by killing his father. He will be thrilled, I am sure." Brian has his lines crossed when it comes to the two siblings. Bao-Wei speaks with an almost passive calculation. "If you had not, we would have, eventually. Or the police. What goes around comes around, mister Winters."

The pen hasn't gone down yet; the doctor's left hand does to his pocket, drawing out a key to twist open of the top desk drawers. Oh, we all know what that is- a checkbook. He doesn't open it yet.

"I do require myself to ask about reimbursing you in other forms of payment, rather than money." But it's not like he can't write the damn check.

Brian isn't sure whether he believes that or not. Liu may be happy to see him, or he may be enraged. But Winters will be ready. He watches Bao-Wei silently, tilting his head. "Such as?" He asks softly. "Money serves very well.. What else do you have to offer?"

The drawer is still open, and Cong's hand dips back inside, drawing out moments later a familiar, eerily glowing, little blue syringe.

"I do not know if you are familiar with or can use this, but- I've got the source on hand, and so that makes me the man to see for …well, purity." If Brian gives no hint as to knowing what it is, however, Bao-Wei will leave it at that and drop the dose of Refrain back into the drawer.

Brian's eyes slightly widen at the blue syringe. A very subtle movement, but a movement all the less. His mouth dries out slightly, Refrain. "I have associates that use it. Regularly. I would still require a cash payment." Winters informs as he eyes the syringe.

"But.." He waves his hand around. "A bit of that wouldn't hurt anything."

Bao-Wei has been around addicts and dealers long enough to discern interest from desire.

"Of course. That would only be a supplemental reward." His eyes rest sharply on Brian, placing the blue syringe on the desk between them both before unfolding the checkbook and readying his pen. "Would you prefer to have that-" His eyes dart towards the syringe for a moment. "-as one large reward, or prefer to simply come to me as needed?" A lump sum or not?

"One large.." Brian declares, pushing his briefcase a touch further away from him on the desk. He won't further play the 'associate' game. He's taking the Refrain, doesn't matter what he does with it. Leaning back in his chair again, his whimsical attitude slowly returns. "So. I'll be going then."


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