Crystal Clear


raith_icon.gif ryans3_icon.gif

Scene Title Crystal Clear
Synopsis Raith and Ryans sit down to discuss the security of the island and the people on it.
Date November 15, 2010

Pollepel Island: Special Activities Room Office *cough*

A room with two chairs and a camping lantern. Epic.

Days have gone by, and nothing has exploded, caught fire, or attracted bullets on Pollepel Island. The reason why is irrelevant: What matters it that none of those things have happened, allowing both Jensen Raith and Benjamin Ryans to breathe a little easier. Things are, at least for now, turning in their favor. But even a good turn of fortune like this doesn't keep them from working.

Only days after Ryans' appointment as head of Special Activities and already, it's time to hold a meeting to determine the future of not only the division, but potentially every remaining Ferryman in New York City. No pressure, of course. Word about when and where to meet worked its way from Raith to Ryans indirectly, but through trusted channels at the very least. Just one of the few unused rooms in Bannerman Castle that the former was able to claim and convert into a makeshift office. Makeshift in that it lacks essentially everything one might expect to find in an office. Not even a proper desk, although there are a pair of chairs that Raith acquired, somewhere. Presently, that's about all the room has in it besides himself and an electric camping lantern. Gotta start somewhere, eh?

"You know… I have a sense of deja-vu." The gruff and rumbling voice of Benjamin Ryans carrying into the room, even as the ex-Company, now Ferrymen steps into the door way. "Except a different time… and you had a carbine pointed at me." He takes a step in and adds, breath misting faintly, "And eating beans, I believe." There is a faintest twitch of a smile, but it's gone as soon as it appears, like has almost no energy for the emotion.

He has his duster on against the chill, but it still shows the signs of Noah's blood though faded with washing. Ryans doesn't ask, he simply moves to the spare chair, turning to settle into it with a weary sigh. He slides a booted foot out in front of him, fingers rub at tired eyes, before he focuses on the other man. "So —" he trails off twitching a brow upward at the other man.

"So," Raith replies from his own setup of maps, paper markers, and a briefcase quite familiar to Ryans, "We have some things to discuss, although the important thing is to get you up to speed, since this isn't a one-man show anymore." Honest and to the point, if nothing else. "I take it things have been going as smooth as they can be going for you, these last couple days? Yes, no? Have a seat, by the way." A gesture to the one empty chair in the room.

"So far, but knowing Lazzaro has been floating around and not knowing a lot of these people…" There is a shrug of his shoulders as he pulls his foot in and sits at the edge of the chair. "Not to a whole hell of a lot of sleeping, as can be expected."

He motions to Raith and his case of goodies. "I'm curious to see what you've set up," Ryans is honest about that. "What your plans for this place are, so that we are on the same page." Hunching forward he rests arms on his knees and regards the other man for a moment, before adding. "You have my full attention."

"Glad to hear that," is a simple response, but despite or in spite of it, Raith just gives the suitcase a pat. "Everything in there is the same stuff you saw the last time-" Meaning the codes, some maps, and the like- "And this is everything you need to know about it." The ex-spy passes over a folded sheet of paper that does nothing more than hold a small piece of shaped metal and have six number written on it. "That's the combination to open it. Insert that sliver into the hole on the bottom, hook the trigger, and pull it down before you open it, or you're going to get a very bad surprise when you do." THe incendiary. Right.

"As for plans, there aren't a lot at this point, pending a small restructure so we can better handle things around here. After all, things are structure with one director in mind. Now, we have two. We need to rethink things a little bit."

Leaning slightly, Ryans reaches to take the offered item, unfolding it to take a look. Skimming over the numbers, he nods slowly, folding it slowly again. "I'm still surprised at the appointment," he admits, though his surprised face, looks about like the rest at this point. "Not that I am, not up for the challenge, I was Assistant-Director before the fall of the Company."

Ryans glances at the door turning thoughtful, the number tucked into his pocket for the moment. He'll make sure to memorize those numbers so that he can get rid of the paper. "What sorts of things were you thinking need to be rethought?

"Just the duties involved? Who does what?" Ryans lets his gaze drift back to Raith, his expression actually showing a touch of curiosity. "How we keep from stepping on each other's toes." Not that he sees much of that happening.

"Something like that. Look here." Raith gestures to the map he has laid out. It's the same map that Ryans had seen during their last meeting, but this one lacks any red marks, using small paper markers instead. "We're essentially facing two problems with our current situation. Really, the same problem, but it's dispersed on the two shores-" As indicated by paper markers on the map- "Which makes it a little trickier to deal with. On the eastern shore, we have the highway to worry about, and the possibility of observers along it. On the west is Cornwall-on-Hudson, which is the closest town to the island, making it a logical point for work crews from the restoration to depart from, as well as where we'll probably be getting most of our supplies. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but we have two fronts on which we need to deal with security, and until we can enlist some people, you and I are all there is for security details. You can see how this lack of resources might cause some problems."

"I see what you're saying." Ryans murmurs softly, leaning closer to the map, following where Raith points. "I also see issues with hunting." Tracing the highways on both sides where they cross the state parks. "Unless they go here." His finger slides north to tap at a smaller track of land of the Hudson highlands. "Only a train track to cross there. Though might be better where the train and cars go into a tunnel… but that means climbing." He taps that point further down past the island. "Mainly, cause it'll be up to us to make sure they don't slip up and draw attention."

After a moment of studying the map he sighs, "Two men… well, two men and Huruma," Ryans corrects himself, knowing the amazon of a woman would be best suited for this type of work. "For this amount of security…" His tone sounds grim by the time he lets that sentence trail off. "For general purpose, on the island this small we are okay, for policing our own, people. Beyond that, when you spread it out with the hunters and all. Yeah, this is a major issue and so far, no one has come to me. You?"

Not that it's a surprising problem, Ryans knows most of the Ferry are not very militant.

"A couple," is all that Raith starts with, giving Ryans a moment to finish looking over the map. "Honestly, I'm content to leave hunting to other people. That's a problem for Logistics, as bureaucratic as that sounds, although I still can't say with any confidence someone from that division is even here. I'm more concerned about watching Breakneck Road than hunting right now. Like I said before, only three hundred meters between the island and the shore."

"The good news is we have a couple people here that'll give us a leg up. The first is Wes Smedley. You might've seen him around, brown-haired cowboy-looking fucker. Anyway, he's into smuggling. Apparently got some good contact back on the mainland, willing to move goods and people in and out, goods for cash and people for free. Only downside there is security, and while I'm sure he's capable of handling himself, there's always that concern there, you know? Now, if I had my way, I'd have an army of underlings to do this and that, but I don't, so while we're on the topic, I'm just going to suggest we split responsibilities in this regard. One of us handling logistical security, the other one handling operational security. Keeps leadership central enough that we can still coordinate, but gives us the flexibility to adapt our needs as, needed. How's that for a starting plan?"

"I agree with that plan. That way we're not both crossing lines doing the same things." Ryans bobs his head in a single nod of approval, lips pressing together into a fine line briefly. "Though, I think you are probably the better candidate for logistical." Some amusement colors his tone.

"And I know Smedley somewhat, he was the one that got me and others to the island. Wouldn't leave anyone behind, even if it bogged his boat down to an extent." Leaning back slowly in his chair, resting his back against it he sighs, "So he may be our way to and from when we go back into the city to start scouting?" His mouth pulls up into a bit of a smirk. "Good. Not that it's much of a worry at the moment, all in due time though."

"'Due time' will be coming up here pretty soon, though." It's a fact of life. Raith knows it, and Ryans knows it too. It was never a point in contention. "The other person of interest is Shannon McPherson, and what I am about to say should be considered top secret. That means the two of us know, and after rational discussion, we'll decide if there's anyone else who needs to know. Are we clear on this?" Either out of nervousness or common sense, Raith sends a glance towards the door leading in, just in case someone just happens to be walking past. Looks clear, if nothing else.

It's instinct that has Ryans following Raith's gaze, but then it cuts back quickly enough. "Crystal," is rumbled out, though brows are furrowed deeply with this curiosity. Not that there were many the old man would tell much, but… he honors his word where he can. "And Shannon is one of the girls I see in the kitchen on occasion?"

"That'd be her," Raith replies before lowering his voice, "And contrary to what is generally held to be true, she has an ability. An illusionist with a reasonable amount of skill, and a fact she would like to keep, 'contrary to what is generally held to be true.' I'm inclined to agree with that sentiment, at least for the time being on account of shit still being fucked up, and not having a completely clear idea of who on this rock we can and can't trust yet."

Brows lift slowly at the new in a 'Oh really?' sort of way."Useful," he offers in return. "Makes it where we don't have to rely on a teenager for something like that." Ben's eyes flick down to stare at the floor as he turns thoughtful. "If we're desperate, that does gives us two illusionists at our disposal."

Fingers lift so that Ryans can scratch at his jaw, nails scraping against stubble slowly. "Not a word on this, I promise, cause your right. It's best to play our hand close to the chest for now." Brows furrowing again. "Which, beyond Lazzaro, who do you have your eye on, to be watched? Who stood out at the meeting? I've only ever dealt with the folks at Gun Hill. So you know more of who is who?"

"A bit. The network was big, and I had my owns things to take care of at the same time. Wasn't as involved in the Ferry's power structure as maybe I should've been. Maybe could've stopped certain things from happening." That was then, Raith, but this is now. "There's at least one other person here willing to screw us over, I'm sure of that. But not unless they have the right motivation, and 'the right motivation' might be in short supply right now, so I'm not too worried about someone selling us out.

"What we need to worry about most," Raith continues, "Isn't being sold out or even the government finding us right away. Internal unrest is going to be the biggest problem the soonest. Evolved Affairs came up at the meeting just in passing, you were there. You remember the reaction it got? People are scared right now. Our most immediate concern should be fear and paranoia, and if you've got any ideas on dealing with that without certain individuals 'disappearing,' I'm all ears."

"I will have to give that more thought." Seems Ryans is of the school of make them disappear, it's easier sometimes. Violent, bloody at times, but easier. "Because we are in the honeymoon phase. People are recovering." Glancing at the doorway and the hall beyond, Ryans is pondering that predicament. "Eventually, people are going to start butting heads, blaming other people for their problems…"

Fingers rub against Ben's forehead at the meer thought. "For now, all I can think to do, is be a presence. People know who you and I are to this place." A hand flicks in the doorways direction. "Make sure people know we're here and get to know them. Address security concerns as they come up… and all that."

A half-shrug. "Hate to say it, but that's probably all we can do, you're right." Raith hates admitting, not defeat, but acceptance as much as anyone does. "We need to start screening people for capability," he adds, reaching under his coat- half discarded on the floor- and withdrawing the notebook he'd been writing in at the meeting. "This is a complete census of everyone on the island. The reference number corresponds to a photo on the camera I have. Learn names, and then get faces to stick them to. Between the two of us, we need to know everyone here, just in case someone slips in we don't know about. After that, we need to figure out if anyone'll volunteer for permanent security detail, and then make sure they won't flip out or do anything they shouldn't."

The weight of everything is finally starting to get Raith down, even if all he does to acknowledge it is raise a hand to rub his eyes.

"You, sir, are surprisingly prepared." Ryans notes, truly impressed with Raith's methods. "I had been so focused on trying to protect Gun Hill… I haven't half the stuff you have, but then again… I was surprised with this appointment." The old man is readily admitting that flaw. "Just glad one of us is.

"Okay…" Ryans takes a moment to collect his thoughts, "… so for no… order of business. Get out there, get to know the people on that list." He even point at the list in Raith's hand. "Learn about them, get a feel for them, protect them between all that." Giving Raith a matter of fact look, "and before someone tranqs us, attempt some sleep." Lord, know Ryans could use it.

"I always thought I'd be done with war once I got out of Delta," Raith replies, "And I just keep finding my way into new wars. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be soldiers." A quick smack of his forehead, and it seems like Raith is ready for another hour of work before he needs to rest. "We've got a couple days to get a security detail together. Any longer than that, and we'll start compromising our ability to function in that capacity."

"Feels like I haven't quit since my mom signed the papers that let me join up at sixteen." Ryans shakes his head slowly. "Though what I did for the Company is starting to feel like a cake walk at this point. Nothing like a civil war to destroy a country."

There is a slow shake of his head, "You always read about this sort of stuff in other countries when growing up, but — " Benjamin sits straighter in the chair, stretching his shoulder back, trying not to grimace at the tightness across his shoulder blades. " — but people thought the good old US was smarter and above all this."

There is a soft snort from Ryans. "Shows what they know."

"Just more of the same for me, friend. I've seen a lot of countries fold in on themselves. The only difference here is that I'm close to joining the revolution, instead of propping up the government. Unnerving and surreal." THe notebook is surrendered to Ryans for later study, and ready for another hour or not, Raith looks all that much more ready to call it a life, never mind calling it a day. "Get some sleep. We've got a whole storm of shit to worry about in the next couple days." And no one, not Raith nor Ryans nor anyone is looking forward to it.

Being a rebel kind of sucks.

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