Enemy Combatants

Participants:

elisabeth2_icon.gif sarisa_icon.gif

Scene Title Enemy Combatants
Synopsis Uh-Oh Logan!~
Date March 25, 2010

Textile Factory 17


She rarely seeks out the woman who is the boss of FRONTLINE. "Agent Kershner, do you have a few moments," Elisabeth asks as she knocks on the doorframe of the room. The blonde is still garbed in her uniform and she looks tired — she's been as busy as everyone else on the squads assisting with weather-related problems. Her hair is damp, as if she didn't wear a hat at the end of her shift, and she seems a touch uncertain.

The room in question, FRONTLINE Unit-01's conference room, is typically where Agent Kershner spends the majority of her time on duty. Seated at the large, round table dominating its middle, she slowly closes a laptop with one hand, watching the doorway as Elisabeth Harrison slowly makes her way into the room. There's silence for a moment, the barest of squints of discernment from Sarisa, and then a subtle nod. "You're looking under the weather, Harrison." Kershner notes with a raise of her brows, blue eyes going down tot he laptop as it clicks closed.

"Adverse effects from the virus inoculation, or just overworking yourself?" There's a hint of chiding there in that tone as Sarisa leans back, folding gloved hands in her lap as she watches the other blonde more carefully now than before. "I've got time," she offers with a motion to one of the other chairs at the round table, "come on, take a seat. You can always come to me."

"I'm finally bouncing back from the innoculation, but I've been out helping the Guard distribute food and blankets today, among other things." Elisabeth smiles faintly. "Well…. I'm certainly hoping that's the case," she says quietly. "I've come across a lead that I think is viable, but…. "

Moving further into the room, she pulls out a chair kitty-corner to Sarisa's and drops into it in a slouch. "Dreyfus and Kozlow are laying low, and it wasn't until a day or two ago that I put some things together. The rest of us who are targets have been wracking our brains for ways to either lure them out in the open or trying to figure out where they might hole up. And I think… maybe… we've got some ideas. There's a small catch, though."

"I wasn't aware you'd joined a federal aency while I wasn't looking," Sarisa admits with a raise of one brow, tilting her head to the side to rest her chin on a closed fist as she regards Elisabeth. "You do realize that we've had this discussion before, about you and your friends putting yourselves in excessive danger by trying to handle this yourselves, right?" Sarisa lifts a gloved hand to ward off immediate protest. "Frame this idea in a way that won't have me glaring daggers at you, Harrison, and I ensure you that I'll help in any way that I can. I want these sick bastards caught just as much as you do."

Rolling her tongue over the inside of her cheek, considering Elisabeth carefully Sarisa adds. "But don't think I'm going to try and help you play evolved vigillante like some blonde-haired Magnes Varlane." That was certainly meant as a dig. "Just— what's your idea?" Sarisa notes with a patient tone, hoping it doesn't come off as something wholly illegal or insane.

Elisabeth holds up her hand and says, "Hey… hold up. I haven't done anything yet except meet up with the rest of what used to be Charlie Team and talk. You said if I could come up with a viable plan, you'd listen. And since it's my father at risk, I can't just sit on my hands and do nothing. But all I've been doing is pounding pavement in what little spare time I have, tapping some street contacts for rumors and intel. I promise." So far.

"I don't know how extensive your records actually are on my …. let's call them 'vigilante exploits'," Liz says with a faint grin. "But early on in my career on that side of the line, Abigail Beauchamp was kidnapped from her apartment and taken out to Staten to be kept on tap to heal a bunch of cage fighters — some of them willing, some not so. One of the men who headed up that ring was a guy named Muldoon, and the Feds managed to get enough on him to serve a warrant and search his Manhattan apartment. They confiscated his computer and a bunch of shit, and then he was in the wind."

She pauses only briefly to verify that her boss is still following and then says, "I heard from a source who works for…. a highly placed person we'll not name at this moment that Muldoon was in Moscow for something. And then while we were there, I saw the man. But given that we were working with an illusionist, I wasn't sure enough of that situation to really put two and two together. However, rumor on the street now places Kozlow and a man named John Logan, Muldoon's partner in the cage fighting ring, being all chummy and such."

"So, you think there's a connection between these former criminal figures from Staten Island, and what followed us back from Russia?" Sarisa quirks a brow, rubbing gloved fingers over her chin gently. "That's good intelligence, finding out that Sasha visited John Logan. Do you want us to pull him in for official questioning? I can have a pair of agents on his doorstep with a phone call, and we can keep him in a nice concrete block for as long as I damned well want to keep him, and no one has to know where he went either." Sarisa lifts her brows slowly, scraping her thumb across the bottom of her chin.

"That's one part about the liberties afforded to the CIA. We have authority to just pluck someone like Logan off the street without process for him to wiggle out of and drop him in a cell and squeeze him until he's dry for information as long as we want. Being suspected of aiding foreign terrorists makes John Logan what we call an enemy combatant, and if you think he has vital information." Sarisa snapped leather gloved fingers, "We'll get someone in his head and find out."

Yeah… and that right there is the scariest damn thing Kershner could say to Elisabeth. Christ Almighty. "This group is now hitting more than just immediate family or loved ones of Charlie. They're targeting kids that Teo and I taught at Washington Irving and other people completely innocent in this situation. In addition to the fact, of course, that they're actively targeting at least two Feds — well… at least one, in Ivanov, and I don't know if I count as that or not. But hey, foreign nationals targeting a Fed on US soil definitely gives us some room to maneuver. Still.. we obviously can't cover everyone."

Elisabeth pauses and chooses her words carefully, "I don't want to tip our hand on the matter just yet. Snatch up Logan, and the Russian Vanguard may just decide it's too big a risk and move up their timetable on whatever the coup d'etat is. I've asked some street contacts to keep an eye on Logan's little mousehole and see what additional intel they can come up with. He's not likely to just up and move anytime soon — he runs a club in the city, and he's seen there pretty often. He likes his creature comforts." The blonde considers.

"What I want right now is a little bit of leeway to be allowed to keep tapping some underground sources for information. I don't intend it to be anything more than surveillance, but …. there are some Vanguard haunts around town that I want to check out on the downlow. And if we find anything, the ability to call it in and have our team ready to rock and roll… I just don't know if that's a feasible request."

"Rock and Roll?" Sarisa echoes with a slow, patient sigh, bringing that gloved hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she leans back in her seat. "Well I'll give you that you're motivated, Harrison. It's more than I can say for some of the other members of this team. I can't give you any authority to get involved in this, but I can opt to look the other way if only because the bureau is pulled pretty thinly right now investigating a— " Sarisa shakes her head slowly, "high profile investigation on top of this."

Pursing her lips, Sarisa arches her brows slowly and slants blue eyes towards Elisabeth. "Okay. How's this… you keep your contacts, use them how youo like. I can spot you two federal agents on loan from the FBI; wire tapping, shotgun microphone, foot surveillance. You tell me where you want them, and I'll go through the proper channels to make sure whatever it is you do, gets done on the books and we'll call it interdepartmental cooperation."

"Look, I want these men caught more than anything, but we're going to do it by the books. If you can get Ivanov thick in on this, I'll be able to authorize mobilizing our squads if he requests it. Federal agents have full authority to request FRONTLINE backup if they need it and I swear to you I'll have however many people I can spare up the Vanguard's ass so tight they'll be shitting bullets."

Elisabeth actually laughs softly. "If there's one thing you will never be able to complain of with me, it's motivational factors, boss." she says ruefully. "Sorry for the slang — I worked with HRT for a while, they're always gung-ho about blowing shit up when it's time." She shrugs slightly. "It's not time yet. I'm hoping it doesn't require blowing shit up, but frankly I'm not optimistic. The list of people involved here is … big. Feng Daiyu, who used to be CIA from what I gather; Skoll, who may actually have been infected with the 510 virus courtesy of someone he attacked; Dreyfus; Kozlow; possibly Yvette Volken."

She pauses and grins. "I already have Ivanov on board, so that part's easy." It pays some days to be best friends (with perks!) with a Feeb, apparently.

Liz moves to stand up out of her chair. "For what it's worth to you….. So far, ma'am, you've run this team exactly the way I hoped it would be run. Philosophical differences aside, I have this tendency to want to trust my superiors. I don't have enough intel right now to hold up in court, and that's always been the standard by which to take shit to the boss — but in this case… there've already been too many people dead."

Looking up at Liz for a good long while, Sarisa furrows her brows and slides her tongue along the inside of her cheek slowly. "I do what I have to do, Harrison. Sometimes that means people aren't going to like me, sometimes that means people are going to get hurt, but everything I do— here?" She motions to the room, "It's to ensure that this country gets its ass back together, to make sure the deserving people are the ones doing that." Offering a look down to the top of the table, Sarisa's dark brows crease together.

"I had a sister growing up…" Sarisa abruptly states in a quieter tone of voice, eyes distant and unfocused. "She and I both followed in our father's footsteps, joined the CIA, wanted to serve our country." Blue eyes drift up to Elisabeth slowly. "She was your age," which is to say not Sarisa's age, whatever that is. "She died in 2001, her office was on the 45th floor of the second tower." There's a slow shake of Sarisa's head, eyes drifting down to the table. "I always said that— I'd do double the work from then on out, make sure that there would be two Kershners pulling the weight of the world on their shoulders, even if it's just one physically."

Breathing in deeply, Sarisa slowly exhales a sigh and closes her eyes, shaking her head. "You remind me a lot of her," blue eyes open partway and regard Elisabeth through the dark cage of her lashes. "That's why I wanted you on this team so bad, why I look the other way sometimes, because— it's like all that bad shit never happened." Sarisa's lips creep up slowly, brows furrow tighter. "That's also why I'm so god damned hard on you, because I expect something out of you." HEr eyes avert to the door.

"Go on…" Sarisa offers quietly, "get back to work. Let me know if you need any help."

"I'm sorry," Elisabeth says simply. She helped dig people out of there. She was on the streets in 2001. Though she doesn't remember the Towers actually falling — those days are among the last ones that are missing from her mind thanks to Danko — she does remember the aftermath vividly. And the tragedy is not unlike her own. She smiles just a little and says with a serious expression that has just the tiniest hint of cheek to it, "I'll do my best not to make you have to kick my ass too often, ma'am." She steps toward the door and says, "I'll let you know as soon as I know anything." And here's hoping she can actually keep her word on that.


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