Participants:
| Scene Title | Entirely Truthful |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | When Benjamin Ryans comes down to discuss what happened at the Corinthian, Jimmy Alton offers something that agent Ryans isn't always offered: the truth. |
| Date | May 3, 2010 |
Outside the walls of Fort Hero it was like another world, as the snow fell it looked less like New York and more like they had all been transferred to Alaska, cause this time of year, it should have been warm enough for picnics in the park, not snow shoes and parkas. Inside the structure it was at least warm and safe.
Ryans wasn't totally thrilled, but he was mostly resigned to staying in a spare room in the dorms and working from there. With no cell towers, he wasn't able to keep an eye on his daughters, after his conversation with Rebel it has the Senior Agent on edge. However, work must continue and he can't keep dwelling on the fact his girls are pretty much unprotected — no one can protect his girls like he can.
It's a father thing, really.
It's work that brings him to the door of Jimmy Alton's room in the medical ward. Time for the old man to talk to the younger one. He gives a nod to the man standing by the door, who gives a soft rap on the door to alert the occupant before unlocking it for Ryans. "Thank you." The words rumble softly as he slips into the room.
His tan dress slacks and maroon dress shirt stand out in the sterile looking room, he addresses the sole occupant in his hospital bed, "I hope you don't mind a vistor." Ryans offer politely, standing to the side of the door as it swings shut again locking. "I figured it was about time we talked."
"Mind?" Jimmy Alton's voice comes from the hospital bed he's lounging on, pinstripe clad legs outstretched and ankles crossed, paging through a 1974 copy of OMNI magazine, "you know, Ben, I thought my HMO was bad but this— " Jimmy cracks a lopsided smile and waves one hand at the sparsely furnished and retro looking hospital room, "what did you do, buy this all for a song?"
The magazine is folded closed, laid down in Jimmy's lap, and the scruffy looking gentlemen folds his hands in his lap and leans his weight to the side, regarding Ryans silently as the gaent comes into the room. "You just let me know what I can do for you, so that I can get out of here, and then maybe we can all go have a pint at the Corinthian and wait for this whole apocalypse thing to blow over?" He must be talking about the weather, surely.
"Something like that." Ryans comments mildly a glance going to the room, "What can I say, the higher ups are penny pincers." It doesn't sound like it, but the old man is joking. "This is rather plush in comparison to the room I'm staying in."
The soles of his shoes tap lightly on the linoleum flooring, closing the distance to the . "I'll be honest Jimmy, not sure when we'll be able to get you out of here." Ryans lips press together, briefly in an apologetic look. "There are too many parties wanting you at this point… and I think just letting out out into the wilds of New York, would be a bad thing. Concider this for your protection for now."
Hands tuck into the pockets of his slacks as he studies the other man. "Not to mention I believe that lovely lady at the Corinthian would have your hide if you step into that place again." Gaze drops to the floor for a moment before he looks up again. "Tell me about your ability, Jimmy. I know your a pre-cog, but each is different. The fact you are, explains some things. Your comment in front of the Speakeasy… the fact your not all that surprised by my appearance." His lips hitch to one sides as he angles a look at the other.
There's a mild look to Ryans from the younger man, and he slides the magazine off of his lap, swings his legs around the side of the bed and rests his hands on his knees with a slap. "I appreciate you hauling my ass out of the frying pan, the fire, and the kitchen…" Jimmy notes with a nod of his head to each point, "but this whole cloak and dagger, moose and squirrel, spy versus spy thing you guys have going on here is ridiculous." Both of Jimmy's brows lift as he squares a look at Ryans. "I figure you're a government spook, because nobody your age stays in the shape you're in and does the work you do without there being a six figure paycheck involved."
Leaning back, Jimmy's hands rest flat on the hospital bed and he breathes out a sigh through his nose. "You've got a fancy term for what I do, so I figure this is your job. Dealing with people like me," there's a bob of his head again, "but I don't have the answers you're looking for, Ben. I don't know how I do what I do. Look…" seemingly incapable of sitting in one place for too long, Jimmy leans forward again and motions a hand flippantly in the air. "It just happens."
"This all started a few years ago, and it didn't do me a fuck of good then, alright?" Having had the time to look over Jimmy's personal file, it becomes clear to Ryans with that comment when his ability triggered and why it's such a sore spot. Both parents, two brothers, a sister, his wife and his son all died in the explosion in Midtown. He lost everything.
"I gamble, I know which machines are hot when I touch them, because I see a few seconds ahead, like— fast-forwarding a video. Most of the time it's just a few seconds ahead, always when I'm touching something. I— a couple of times I've had screwed up dreams and see things that I don't understand, like your whole— Portrait of Dorian Gray thing going on?" He motions to Ryans' face with a wiggle of his fingers.
"What happened at the Corinthian? You seeing something I did? This shit doesn't come with an instruction manual, Ben. I don't know what that was." That, perhaps, is the most uncomfortable part of Jimmy's truth.
"Only a few seconds?" Ryans asks, feet shifting to where he can settle into a chair. "Doesn't seem enough of a reason for possibly three groups — and I'm not taking about my own — to want you enough to kill." One of those groups, might not even what Jimmy really.
"And believe it or not Jimmy… this cloak and dagger stuff has worked for a long time." At least till the Midtown explosion, but Ryans respectfully keeps that under his hat so as not to dredge up a sore point, but he does say, "Just a little tougher now that everything is out in the open, but we still try to protect people. Something I've been doing for a very… very long time." There is almost an exhausted tone to his voice when he says that, leaning back in the chair. "But… in a way it is our job to deal with your kind… It was before all other groups came along."
He doesn't linger on all that, instead Ryans moves on, "So you have a lot to learn yet about what you can do. That is one of the things we do here." Though he frowns and glances at the door, "Though not to the extent we use too, but if your interested I can ask."
"The only thing I'm interested in, honestly, is waiting out mother nature's angry backhand down here…" Jimmy cracks something of a smile, "and then getting back to my life." Such as it is. "But you know, and I know, that none of this is actually going to happen, because I've got a pretty good idea of what happens to a guy like me who can do what I do when people find out about him. I get registered and then I disappear. I'm not dumb, Ben, I know what the Internet is… maybe you've heard of it?" One of Jimmy's brows quirk up.
"People like Phoenix have been talking about illegal arrests and disappearance for over a year now. It doesn't take the fact that I just got shang-hai'd by you and yours to know where my story is gonna end, and it sure as hell doesn't take a vision of the future to know it either."
Resigning himself to a sigh, Jimmy sweeps his hands together with a clap and rests them down at his legs. "I'm no special agent, Ben. I'm just some poor schmuck who lost everything in the world that matters to him, and can't take the initiative to go find a roof to fall off of."
"There have been…" Ryans admits softly, head nodding. "However, it doesn't mean your story will end there." It hasn't for some, but has for others. "You haven't done enough to warrant you 'disappearing'. There are far more dangerous people out there that do." He admits.
"And don't think you're the only one that lost something. How you take what happened and let it affect you is your own damn fault." Ryans words are that same calm rumbling it always is. "But your right, your not a special agent, but you also are a target as soon as you walk out that door."
Gaze drifting to the wall, Ryans frowns thoughtfully. "Just got to figure out how to get that target off your back." His eyes drift over and gives him a small ghost of a smile… "Unfortunately, not sure that is gonna happen and we're running on borrowed time. Mother nature is helping with that."
"So exactly who is it that wants me?" Jimmy asks with one brow lifted. "I mean, I don't… I don't understand why anyone would want me so bad as to paint a damn bulls-eye on me and you and that casino chick. I mean— " Jimmy's brows furrow, "look, I appreciate you saving my bacon, but this shit just doesn't add up. Those guys were loaded for bear, and some of them are still out there too. I dunno who they were or what the fuck they wanted with me, but— "
Jimmy rubs a hand over his face. "Until you figure that out, I ain't going to be any use to anyone, secret decoder-ring special agents or not. Because if I'm looking over my shoulder every five goddamned minutes it…" Jimmy smooths a hand over his cheek, one brow lifted slowly as he contemplates the level of beard he's accumulated in his time captive with the Company.
"Ben, they wanted you dead. What do you think these guys are gonna' do when they don't find me?" There's a lift of one of Jimmy's brows slowly. "Best hope you're the lonely single spy with no family type."
"I know they wanted me dead." Ryans says gruffly, looking up from the floor, brows furrowing in his frustration. "But there are people that do want you and they were coming after you." The agents jaw tightens, before he adds rather reluctantly. "However, the ones coming after you were supposedly killed and seemingly replaced with people gunning for me. And I haven't a goddamn clue why." If one would believe what Rebel told him. In fact, the Senior Agent needed to corner another of the teams members on that regard.
Both brows lift up as he asks, the sarcasm thick in his voice, "Happy? You were probably just a bonus for the mercenaries." A hand lifts to rub across his face, as he tries to compose himself again, "And you heard him that night. I have daughters." That tired tone returning. "But it's moments like these, I do wish I was the lonely spy type." It would make things less complicated.
"Looks like we got ourselves a mystery, Scooby." Jimmy notes with a crack of a smile, swinging his legs back around across the bed, leaning back against the headboard where he'd been sitting when Ryans came in. "You go find the rest of the gang and when you get the mystery Machine all primed up, we'll go solve the case of the haunted casino…" Reaching down to his side, Jimmy picks up the copy of OMNI and folds it back to the page he was on, tilting his head to the side and looking at Ryans.
"Did you know," he quotes facetiously, "that the ARPANET might be the wave of the future? Maybe some day we'll be trading messages electronically over phone lines, without voice!" There's a feigned exasperation and shock there, and all Jimmy can do is flash a smile and turn his attention back to the decades old magazine.
There is one of those rare soft chuckles for the old man, as Ryans pushes himself up to his feet. "You know… you're starting making me regret pulling you in." He comments rather lightly, his head shaking. Leaning over he pats the younger man's good shoulder and then grips it briefly.
"I didn't get a chance to thank you for taking that bullet… but thank you." Which might explain Ryans need to help him out. "You're a good kid, once you get past the whole…" the shoulder is releases and he waves the hand bit in a vague gesture, "…using your ability for personal gain."
Of course, Ryans looks the same age as Jimmy… so it would sound odd to anyone that didn't know how old Ryans really is. "We'll get this figured out and you out of here… hopefully, before people are aware that you are here." That's one of his biggest worries right now.
Looking up from his magazine, Jimmy offers a tip of his head into a nod at Ryans' thanks, but his eyes shift back to the magazine, distractedly. There's a quiet that comes over him for a time, a thoughtful, ponderous silence. Then, a moment later, as Ryans is headed for the door, Jimmy looks back up and lays the magazine down. "Ben…"
Brows furrowed, Jimmy looks less sarcastic than he did before. "If it ever comes down… in all this," he waves his hand around to indicate everything, "between you keeping my ass safe, and you keeping your family safe?" He looks away, back down to the magazine, not saying anything else.
Jimmy just turns to the page, and lets Ryans fill in the blank.
Moving to the door, Ryans pauses, turning to the younger man in the bed. "At this point, Jimmy… I don't think anything I do will keep them safe, in this instance." His hand raises to knock, but he hesitates. "I don't hand you over they are probably in danger… I let them have you, they are probably in danger." He gives a firm rap on the door, glancing back at the other again.
"I just got to figure out which is the lesser of two evils… and won't kill all of us."
The door opens and the senior agent slips out of the room.