Completing The Triangle


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Scene Title Completing The Triangle
Synopsis Information is passed between Eileen, Gabriel and Minea. Wisely, there is no attempt made on Sylar's and all three walk away unharmed.
Date September 5, 2009

Staten Island Boat Graveyard

Exactly where land gives way to water at this point of the island's edge is uncertain - first because of the saltgrass growing everywhere, both on dry earth and in the shallows, giving the illusion of solidarity; second for the structures visible in the distance, drawing the eye away from the deceptive ground, suggesting its reach extends beyond its grasp. Even if the structures are still recognizable as ships, and nothing that ever belonged on land.

There are a multitude of them, abandoned hulls of salt-stained wood and rust-pitted steel, dying slow and ungraceful deaths as wind and water claim their dues. Some still appear to rest upright, braced upon the debris of older, lost relics below; others list to one side, canted at an odd angle like someone who just struggled to the surface in search of a desperate breath. There are no hands to pull these hulks from the water, no ropes to save them from drowning; each has been surrendered to the sea, left to the ravages of unmerciful time.

At low tide, some of the closer ships can be reached - not without getting soaked, but such is the price of daring. Never mind that the rotting metal and splintered wood are the stuff of nightmares for any germophobe, definite hazards to the unwary. The more distant ships are distant indeed, beyond the reach of all but the most bold - and are all but submerged besides.

Cemeteries are a place for people to mourn the dead and reaffirm their status among the living. The boat graveyard on Staten Island is not much different, but the only bodies that are interred here are of the maritime variety. In place of headstones, pieces of scrap metal jut up from between the rocks, covered in brittle layers of red rust and slimy black barnacles that mirror the distant glow of Manhattan's city lights reflected off the water.

Incidentally, it's also one of Eileen's favourite meeting places, and not just because she enjoys listening to the sound of rot beneath the waves rolling into shore. The vessels themselves provide plenty of cover, twisting shadows and bending light to her advantage. She's spent so much time here that she sometimes feels like she knows every ship by name, or at least those that still have theirs printed across the hull. Some are so decrepit and in such a state of ruin that she's had to christen them herself.

That one over there is the Gulfwind. To its left, the Hyperion. To its right, Dancing Bear. The old freighter she stands under now is the Gentle Persuasion, and as she lowers the cigarette from her lips to let smoke leak from the corners of her mouth, she inhales deeply and studies what she can see of her companion's face in the darkness, stony and silent.

Even before the Vanguard, and everything else that happened there after, Gabriel had liked coming down to the boat graveyard. Not as much, anymore, although this place of abandonment, with its dry salt grass, the shifting water and the chain link fences nearby has its appeal. No, ever since he lost the ability to really listen to the music of the dying boats, and lost his ability to gently nudge them with water or with telekinesis to amplify their sound, there's a certain hopeless quality to the place that he would not admit to. He didn't object to using it as a meeting place, either.

He's impatient, as they wait, but as alert as a dog on its guard. The glance traded Gabriel's way is not immediately returned, picking out movement with his eyes rather than relying on hearing any approach. The leather jacket is rough enough that it catches no light, as goes the shadowy grey of his T-shirt beneath that, the navy of his jeans. Only eyes really twinkle in the gloom.

The scent of cigarette smoke finally gets his attention, harking back to unrelated memories as Gabriel glances at Eileen. "Those will kill you," he decides to point out.

Len would likely have a heart attack if he knew who it was that Minea was going to eventually run across this evening as she makes good on a bathroom conversation with a former Vanguard member. Actually, the sheer amount of people who were present there, and on various watch lists made the woman blink. Did they like to flaunt their status under the noses of everyone?

Still dealing with the fallout of the whole 'tranq Danko at the fancy ball' incident and with the banishment to places not Fort Hero in search of everyones favourite FBI agent has left Minea a little on the cranky side, and even more desirous of carrying through Kitty's plight. Or desire to not be pulverized and shot again.

Frankly, the woman is expecting Eileen and Mr. Hand Grenade - also known as Raith - and not the midtown man, number 1 on the company's most wanted list. Three guns on her, various places and only one seen. Company issue and personal alike, no MP5 today and it's probably a good thing since she's not here on that kind of business but more personal. Footsteps that belong to someone and not them echoes across the darkness as Minea's coming into view. Leather jacket, black pants, shirt, all dark colors and layered hair pulled back with an elastic. A satchel around her shoulder holds the information she has about Daiyu. She comes alone, stupid as it may be.

Eileen is either humouring Gabriel, doesn't want the embers to give away their exact position or has decided that maneuvering a lit cigarette between her fingers while negotiating with Minea takes too much effort. Whatever the reason, she flicks it away and crushes it under the heel of her boot with an audible hiss before stepping forward, feet crunching through the rocks, and moves to meet the other woman halfway like an oil slick winding sinuously through the water.

The agent is armed and so is she, pistol in the holster beneath her jacket, Batangas knife clipped to her belt and swinging a silver pendulum back and forth in tandem with each carefully measured stride. "Stay with me," she murmurs under her breath to Gabriel, and it isn't an order or even a suggestion — it's a request. Then, louder, "Agent Dahl?"

It's a request that likely needs to go unsaid. Gabriel's foot steps crunch up behind her, sights fixed ahead as Eileen takes point. It's a familiar kind of situation, one he'd repeated over and over during his time as Vanguard - falling back, letting those talk talk so that they can allow him to do what he is good at. Systems and patterns that bear repeating. He is not armed. Not in any conventional sense.

He looks like himself tonight, even. Stupidity, fearlessness, apathy, vanity - it could be any number of these things, and truthfully is likely a mixture in varying measures. Stance casual, a flicks a look up and down Minea, committing her to memory.

"Nope, just Avon calling" Voice dry, it's lower register than most females but not the rasp that is Gillians. Of course it's her. Just less couture and more surplus army. There's a falter of her steps as Gabriel comes fully into view and eyebrows go up. "Miss Ruskin. Impressive. I had counted on your other friend being present" Everyone knows that face in the company. Fall back, apprehend, keep tabs, call him in if you see him, we want our precious test subject back.

She approaches, once again after the shock of who was with the littlest vanguardian wears off. "Be happy I learned my lesson at the little shin dig the other night. I'm not about to be so stupid as to try and take you on my own Mr. Gray. You're safe tonight, same for her. Truce" There's a nod out of politeness from the Company woman. But she didn't come here to make small talk with the Peterelli designated scapegoat so her eyes level on Eileen eventually. "Daiyu. What we discussed in the bathroom. I got a question." The pack is unslung from her shoulder, fingers grasping at the straps that hold it closed and undoing them as she goes making sure that all movements are seen. "He was a vanguard member yes or no?"

There's a faint ripple of tension that passes through Eileen's slim frame at the implicit suggestion that she and Gabriel are safe because Minea wills it. "I told Ivanov as much," she says, "but maybe he wasn't listening, or maybe he doesn't remember." Keeping a respectful distance from both her companion and Minea, she comes to stop in a pool of dappled light that bleeds yellow through a yawning hole in a nearby hull and raises both her hands to emphasize their emptiness.

"Daiyu and I used to work together," Eileen explains. "The last time I saw him before he showed up here in New York, we were hunting illusionists in Russia. Volken sent him away."

When he comes to his halt some safe distance away, and rather than tension in response to Minea's assertion, Gabriel raises an eyebrow, though the casualness of such an expression is undercut by the hard look dealt her way beneath it. "You're welcome to try," he feels moved to point out, while Eileen had felt it fit to simply let it go. His posture doesn't change — doesn't stiffen with readiness, or shift his weight, or anything else that might protect him from some sort of acceptance in response to his encouragement. Perhaps counting on the maturity of the two women completing this triangle.

"Kitty's taken a lot of hit to his head. For being fast, he sure isn't and frankly didn't have much to tell me. I've had to piece everything together" The irony is not lost on her that his speed does him in more than it helps. Eileen and Gabriel get the majority of the supposed Homeland Agents gaze though she keeps an eye on their surroundings. So he's a recent acquisition by the good General. Though from what she saw at the party, it's not the general so much as someone else who's acquiring things. General's the puppet. A subtle shake of her head is reply to Gabriel's offer. "I like to think that I'm a bit smarter than that. Only, you know, there are others who would point out I tried to take down a humanis first member at a gala" A stupid act she's been told but hey, she brought Danko down. She got one over him.

"Mu-Qian?" She might as well throw it out there. See if it gets a flicker of recognition from either as the tidbit about Daiyu is tucked away. "No one I talked to, seemed to know who this Mu-Qian is. I thought perhaps it might be a fellow countryman who fled china with him and Zhang Wu-Long" From the bag once the flap has been released, comes a handful of files, some thin, some a little more substance to them. "I burned a lot of favors for this. For what good it does you, what you already know" There's a shrug of her shoulders as they're held out for Eileen to take.

"He's killing Holden because Holden's not evolved, likely scenario. It's also impossible to tame a rabid dog and he's likely not useful to them for the purposes of reforming evolved terrorists and making them the shiny shiny's of Frontline. Like I think they want to do with you and your .. friend there" Her chin is jutted in Gabriel's direction.

"You'll find personal numbers from his cellphone that was recovered. General Autumn, one Director Kershner, and a Mu-Qian"

Eileen follows the jut of Minea's chin, glancing between the other woman and Gabriel and then back again. She graciously accepts the paperwork. "That's your best theory?" she asks, both her dark brows raised into a mild but skeptical expression. "He's after Holden because Holden isn't Evolved?" Not that she's about to debate. Lips pressed into a thin line, she lowers her eyes to files and thumbs through them, unable to make out much more than vague shapes without proper lighting or the aid of her tortoiseshell reading glasses.

"Thank you," she says eventually, smoothing the edge of the topmost file with the side of her left index finger. "Am I wrong to assume that you'd like something in return?"

Gabriel watches the transfer of paperwork from agent to terrorist, and as for the name Mu-Qian— really it only gains a glance back towards her rather than overt recognition, his face a steely, cautious mask of stoicism and his body language carefully choreographed to display nothing in turn. It's another name that seems to pique his attention, chin lifting. "What do you know about Kershner?" The question comes clunky after Eileen's offer of quid pro quo, but he asks it anyway, gnawing curiosity demanding he not ignore it. "About where she fits in with Autumn, Feng, besides a number of a list?"

"Contacts state that she's Special Activites Agent Kershner, member of the CIA, a right fucking bitch too from the sound of it with balls of platinum. Worked hand in hand with General Autumn forming up a little taskforce to deal with your former comrades. That little foray into Germany that made the news? Her. Her and him and their unofficial first team of their government sanctioned pet project. I haven't had the time to start plugging away at her, I just got the name and number and been busy. She was at the Gala, babysitting the General as he was getting drunk. I'd surmise that Mr. Daiyu was there as well" A glance to Eileen. "He's after holden because he's useless, I told you this. There's no place for him on Frontline. Maybe there's a bit of a personal grudge to go with it. I'd say the latter with a dash of former. They are hunting down Vanguard remnants. If Daiyu would turncoat, maybe they're banking that you all will for a price"

Minea shakes her head at the Quid Pro Quo. "We discussed it in the bathroom. Stop actively seeking him out. He comes at you, well, that's his fault. But give Kitty a break. He's at the end of his lives and the rate he goes through them, the last will be gone soon enough. As it stands likely this is it anyways, Humanis First has their hands on him and i'm having shit luck finding him" and she has company resources to find him.

A glance between the two and she inwardly cringes at what she's about to offer. "I'm gonna look into her anyways, on my own, I assume you'll want the information if I come up with anything?"

Eileen listens to Minea intently, though she does not comment on anything that she has to say. Instead, she takes a step back and disappears behind Gabriel, not yet moving to leave but ceding the floor to him all the same. Kershner is his mark; whether or not he's willing to strike a bargain with the Company in order to obtain that information is more his business than it is hers.

Just as she didn't need to ask him to stay close, she doesn't have to brush her hand against the small of his back to let him know she's still there. She does it anyway, the touch brief, fingertips fleeting, and in the next instant retreats a few paces.

Gabriel doesn't glance back when Eileen moves away, doesn't react, either, to the touch of her fingertips through leather and cotton. Just keeps his attention squared on Minea for the time it takes to finish her spiel, before a small smile plays out on his mouth at this reluctant window of opportunity. His voice is curt and business-like when he responds with; "If we meet again, I might ask." In other words, no formal arrangement is necessary nor wanted. Not when it comes to the Company. He takes a step back without anything further, moving to follow Eileen's retreat.

She'll ask. Not like the two across from know, could know that she's not doing this on company time, company budget, company anything. Company has the information she brought, and they're not interested. Minea turns away too, finger itching, but never going for her tranq gun. Tempation. Ohhh sweet temptation. The method to gaining back the respect she may have list is walking away from her and she from it. There's a soft sigh issued from Minea's mouth and the pack slung over her left shoulder as she disappears into the dark from whence she came.

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