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Scene Title Education
Synopsis Both Cat and Mona learn things.
Date August 12, 2009

The Verb, Cat's Penthouse

Arriving by any of four elevators, visitors will find they open into three foot corridors facing wide double doors made from sturdy southern pine which swing outward and have the strongest locks available. The stairs lead to single doors, also outward opening, at the end of three foot corridors. Entry requires both a key and a keycard; other security measures are a video camera and voice communication terminal at all doors. The 4th Street side has floor to ceiling windows interrupted only by the access points. Cream colored curtains are normally kept closed.

This level has enough space for sixteen apartments. There is an office space with reception area, conference room, and executive office; a room for archery practice and other forms of physical exercise; a very well appointed kitchen and dining area; a music zone with an array of instruments, electronics, and amplifiers; an entertainment area with an HD set covering an entire stretch of wall from floor to ceiling; a locked room where security footage for the building is recorded and can be monitored; a laundry room; a staircase for roof access; central air and heating; the main bedroom and a few smaller guest rooms; plush deep wine carpet everywhere except the kitchen, laundry room and bathrooms; and track lighting everywhere overhead. The light levels can be lowered or raised in the entire place, or selectively by segments. The overall decor suggests the occupant is a woman.

Across the river and through the woods to Grandmother Cat's we go. It is still gray-skied and early enough in the morning for many to still be snoozing, but Mona had been interested in getting to Phoenix's forget-me-not lieutenant as soon as it could be convenient for both of them; her encounter with Danko had left her with a pile of thoughts best not left unshared too long. As the elevator smoothly rises up and up and up to the penthouse of Village Renaissance, Mona can be seen stifling a yawn on the screen of one of the security cameras that undoubtedly points into the shaft, and a tinier one upon stepping out. Despite a rather thorough appearance of tiredness, her own curiosity is alive with the knowledge that this isn't a one-way visit — Cat has something for her, too?

Guess she'll just have to find out.

Knowing Mona is on the way, and with intelligence gathered, Cat is ready for the blogging telepath. One of the double doors nearest the elevator she's taking is unlocked for Mona to enter by. It's Cat's hope she'll remember to close and lock the access panel which hides buttons for these upper floors from those who need not access them or even know how, then do the same for the residence door.

Cat herself is in the office space where various items relating to seismic events and the like are spread out across the reception area, seated behind the executive desk in what would be her private office if she operated things that way. On that desk is a state of the art computer with a large monitor, the keyboard and mouse both wireless. All three have been placed at the edge for the journalist to use.

It's perhaps a minute's walk from the elevator to there when Mona arrives.

As morning-fied as Mona's brain might be, she does indeed remember to take care of the requisite business with both access panels, one after the other as she passes them by. She does remember, too, the instructions concerning where Cat had told her to go upon her exit from the elevator— and so it isn't too long before the telepath is visible in the doorway of that office, one hand resting on the frame as she scans the inside of the space. "Morning, Cat," she greets, eyes briefly falling upon some of the more interesting parts of the room's decorations before turning onto the pamnesiac's herself. "What's all this?"

"Education," Cat replies as she slides over a container of coffee along with a sausage, egg, and cheese McMuffin picked up a short time before. She's very trusting nothing will be spilt on the electronics. The screen, Mona will see, has the Explorer window open to a directory which holds a number of named files. "This makes it easier to keep people informed," she explains, "and now seems the perfect time to bring you into that loop."

"After, that is, you share what's on your mind and enter it wherever it should go, please." She takes a sip from her own cup of coffee.

The packaged breakfast is accepted by Mona with a grateful "thanks", her hands working the McMuffin out of its wrapping while she herself peers more curiously at the screen, coming to stand right over Cat's shoulder. "A database," she observes, quickly giving the different directories and tabs a once-over. There's another short glance at Cat and a quirk of a self-amused grin. "I suppose you don't need a backup, huh, seeing as it's how you've got it all in your head. Let's seee." Tone wandering, her gaze travels on towards the category labeled 'Humanis First'.

"Yeah, so. There's a couple big things to share— but first things first. You remember how I told you I was going to try and do a spying gig on what I thought was a Humanis First member? After the Suresh dedication?"

"A Catabase," she deadpans, "if you don't think whimsy is lame." Her coffee is set down, Cat watches Mona begin to peruse the screen. "It is a backup, a redundancy system, too. Lets me collect and share info with the others. If something happens to me, they have the most recent content, and if we have to scatter I've got it all in my head."

And she cracks a smile, eying Mona with a 'have you met me?' look settling onto her features. Does she remember, indeed.

"A— a rhetorical question," Mona corrects herself with a swift, light, acknowledging dip of her head. She is getting there, don't worry. "But anyway, it turns out he wasn't just any old Humanis First member. He's one of the big guys." The serious ones, that is. The ones who do a little more than sit around all day ranting with forum buddies about how angry they are.

There is a pause so she can munch a bite out of her McMuffin. Omnom. "I didn't get a first name, but last is Danko. Ex-Marine, and from what I could tell, he did some covert work for the government after he moved on from there. Heads a bunch of guys who looked like they were military-types, too, though I don't know how many."

"That's very interesting," Cat answers, her features sharpening now. "Danko. Being a former Marine, we can perhaps get some more information on him through Wireless. Do you have a photo of this man?" Fingers curl around the coffee cup, she seems about to lift it, but it remains on the desk surface.

"Nope. There really wasn't much of an opening for whipping a camera out and taking pictures, you know, but I'll tell you what I can do." A crystal-clear picturization of the balding, pale-skinned man swims into view, taking the place of whatever had previously occupied the bottom left quarter of the monitor and looking just like a photo fresh out of Photoshop. For a moment, it might appear as though Mona had miraculously made a picture emerge onto the screen without making a move (look ma, no hands!), but after Cat has had enough time to look at it closely, it'll disappear as soon as she blinks. All in her head, after all. Benefits of being a telepath.

"He's made people drop off the face of the earth. Done nasty things. Not a baldie to mess with."

The image Mona showed her may vanish, but Cat remembers it, and instantly recognizes him. "So that's him,' she mutters, "I saw him and he saw us at the opening. Thank you," the panmnesiac adds. "It also perhaps makes it easier to find a photo of him we can show around. A short and bald former Marine. Did you happen to get anything he touched with bare hands, Mona? Fingerprints are probably in the Federal system."

"He may not be one to mess with, but… he intends to mess with us, so there's little choice," she comments. "Please do make an entry for him in the Humanis First file."

"I didn't. He kept watching me." Something of that nature might have been nice to have, but Mona wouldn't have dared. The man had had a twitchy enough tendency to be suspicious without her helping it along.

But the latter won't be a problem; after setting her McMuffin down and wiping her hands on the nearby napkin to get rid of the grease, Mona leans so she can take control of the keyboard and mouse. "Speaking of messing with us," she comments ironically without looking, fingertips taptaptapping away on the start of a new entry. "I haven't even gotten to the good part. He's been planning an attack that'll happen in a couple weeks; didn't say exactly when. Safehouse. On Staten, somewhere close to the docks."

"Is he?" she asks rhetorically, something dangerous settling into her eyes, "there'll have to be some surprises for him waiting when he makes that move." Cat watches Mona begin to record the entry, remarking "I'll send his data to Wireless and to Elisabeth, spread this around to the others too. The Lighthouse is close to the water on Staten Island, this could be a target. And… we'll need to get anonymous word out to Carla Dove too."

"The head of ReGenesis?" Mona questions without really needing an answer, recalling the name from the news. In front of her, as she momentarily moves the mouse away from the box for Danko, she creates a new one: one titled 'Butch'. No photo. Not too much info there, really, but at least that name— and the status of 'minion of Danko'— is nice to record.

And then she pauses with her fingers hovering above the keys, twisting her head around to give Cat a glance. "I think I've told you all that's important. But there is one more thing, and it went by kind of fast; I'm not sure if I have it right."

"That's her," Cat replies with a nod. "It stands to reason the place will be a target for them at some point by its very nature, but it's even more pressing now, since we know he was present casing the place and seeing people who came to the opening."

Then the cup is lifted, as she asks "One more thing?"

"Bill Dean." The blurbs for both Danko and Butch are both curtly tidied up, and as soon as they are, Mona forges ahead with producing yet a third with a click. "Helena's dad, I would guess. Somehow he's been mixed up with Humanis First, too. Interesting, to have a daddy be working against the daughter." Cat would no doubt know more about a possible history behind that than her, since after all, she has known the atmokinetic far longer and better.

She freezes in place, her eyes on Mona's face as if she's not sure what she just heard. "Who?" Cat asks, wanting to be sure she heard correctly. There's more than danger in those brown eyes now, they're starting to smolder with a contained anger.

There is another halt in Mona's typing, as if the telepath just wants to clear up that the anger isn't directed at her. Eee. "William Dean," she reiterates, settling her brown-eyed gaze on Cat's face in kind, though uncertainly. "Shortened to Bill. It might've been— somebody else, though; Bill and Dean are pretty common names. What's wrong?"

"That a father would be this way toward people who include his own daughter," Cat fumes. She doesn't use words to elaborate on that, feeling the very idea says it all. Mr. Dean, if this is indeed him, is destined for a special level of Hell. Maybe even on Earth.

She remains quiet, stormily sipping from her cup while Mona types, to let her complete the task and begin to read other items.

There are worse things that fathers have done to their daughters, arguably. But letting her agreement be of the tacit variety, Mona reaches over to take a sip from her own cup of coffee, eyes never leaving the screen.

Adam Monroe, the Moab escapees, the latest Evolved political figures…. a long minute or three drags by as she flips through the rest of the directories, lingering on what odd pieces snag her interest— she seems to spend a while perusing the Company agents and founders, in particular— but otherwise just speedreading her way on through. "Evolved detection tests," she notes with a grimace when she comes to it. "Yuck."

"You'll have plenty of time to read things in detail," Cat quietly assures. "Some of the items may shock you, or may not. Like what the Vanguard was up to. That's in the Past Projects folder. Some of the data here you'll perhaps want to make public, as did we, but it's proved impractical. For example, if we outed Nathan Petrelli as a flying man…"

That she will, she will. "It'd be hard to make people believe you. No, I understand." With something approaching a small sigh, Mona finally takes her palm away from the mouse, massaging her brow as she scoots her chair back in order to stand. There is a slight smile. "I probably better get going. Job stuff, you know. But I'd love a chance to get a better look at all this later." One can believe that all the information jam-packed in there might be somewhat overwhelming.

Nodding slowly, Cat offers "Enjoy your day, if you can, Mona. And thank you." She lifts the coffee cup, drinks from it again, and as the internet journalist departs she's starting to get the word out where it needs to go and seek more information.

To: Wireless, T.Monk, R.Ajas

From: Cat

Subject Humanis First Operatives

I've recently learned a man with the surname Danko is a leader in some fashion with Humanis First and is planning an attack against a safehouse near the docks on Staten Island. It is believed the attempt will come in the next few weeks, the exact timing unknown. Mr. Danko was also sighted at the opening of the Suresh Center and is thus believed to have been casing it for future hostile intent.

Mr. Danko is a former member of the US Marine Corps and former government operative leading a group of militantly-inclined individuals, likely with similar backgrounds. Their numbers are unknown, but one of them may be called Butch.

No photograph is currently available. Mr. Danko is of shorter than average male height and is bald, believed to be in mid-forties or early fifties. Is it possible to find him in military records and provide more definitive identification? I can, if shown photos of persons named Danko, ID him.

It is also believed Mr. Danko has contact with one William Dean, who according to source may be the father of Helena Dean. Mr. Dean's role in Humanis First is unknown.

She sends this message, and one with the same content to Elisabeth Harrison.

Later in the morning an anonymous missive is sent to the Suresh Center, marked for the Director. It reads:

Miss Dove,

You may wish to review videocamera footage of the Suresh Center opening if you have it to spot a bald man of approximately five feet and six inches height, age range mid-forties to early fifties, and pass his image to your security personnel. It is believed he's with Humanis First. He was present at one of the receptions that evening, and said presence cannot be benign.

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