Getting Up To Speed


felix_icon.gif mack_icon.gif

Scene Title Getting Up To Speed
Synopsis Mack grabs Felix for a quick pow-wow.
Date March 26, 2009


Mid afternoon foot traffic in a New York Police Department precinct is busier than most office spaces outside of those occupied by hostile traders and investment brokers. Amidst the chaos is a man sitting at a desk with a computer so buried in manilla envelopes its functionality is next to nil. Notebooks and pads can be found here and there, though at the moment the man behind the desk isn't looking at any of it. Nope. He's leaning back with the top buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal the top of a black wifebeater beneath it (who wears a black undershirt with a white dress shirt over it, anyway?) with his badge nestled inside like a tiny baby parasite. His eyes are closed, though it wouldn't matter too much. His head is craned back so far he'd be staring at the ceiling, right hand crushing a stress ball in regular two second intervals.

Not Fel, that's for sure. He's always impeccably dressed - god only knows where he gets tailoring like that on a government salary. For a Fed, he's a fairly ubiquitous presence around the HQ, considering. But then, he used to be NYPD, and the Bureau has apparently dumped him right back on the Department. He comes padding past, mug of coffee in his hand, looking utterly hungover and more than a little bit miserable, heading for the corner of the next cube over that is his home away from home.

Either Mack is uncannily aware, or ludicrously lucky. Probably the latter, but those around the office know that wouldn't be his answer. "Felix." Maybe the correct official address would be 'Special Agent' or 'Special Agent Ivanov', but what do you expect from somebody with such a careless disregard for dress code? Mack rolls his chair out just far enough that combined with leaning back, its enough to give him a clear view of the other investigative professional. "Minute of your time?"

He never does feel particularly special. And Agent, well, that makes him think he should be running around in the Matrix. Ivanov is generally the preferred form, but he doesn't stand much on ceremony, either. "Hm?" he says, affably enough, pausing and poking his head back into Mack's part of the cube farm. Whatever his alcohol inspired ire, he won't take it out on Mack.

Mack takes it upon himself to pop out of his chair and make his way over towards his addressee. Common courtesy; don't make someone you want to ask a favor come to you. "Got some shit brewing I'd like to run past you. Stuffed in his shirt pocket is another notepad. Once its retrieved, its clear this one is scribbled all over. A linguist might actually be able to decpiher it, too. "Couple of names, places." A slight pause. "You look like shit."

"That's remarkably appropriate, considering I feel like shit," Fel says, still amiable. "I got tagged by an Evo with narcotic powers, and the aftermath feels like the mother of all hangovers. I'll be okay, though. What do you need?" he says, propping himself against the edge of the cube, rather gingerly, as he eyes Mack.

Mack offers a grin that borders on a smirk. "I'm Irish. I'm pretty sure I can imagine what that feels like." The volume of Mack's voice is noticably lower, though still loud enough to be heard clearly. "Anyway, I'll try and keep it short, circumstances considered. My eyes are on Staten. One of our probies over in SCOUT- Elisabeth Harrison -had a run in with a cargo ship full of refugees. I wanted to take a closer look, but right now we don't have shit on anybody. But, it led me to something completely different. I was wondering if your boys have anything on a…" Finally, he references the pad. "John Logan or James Muldoon?"

"Yes," Fel says, bluntly. No playing coy with info here. "Muldoon - he's some sort of shadowy figure, behind much if not most of what's going on on Staten, apparently. Logan is an associate of his, presumably an inferior, owner of a brothel known as the Happy Dagger. Also previously responsible for an Evolved cage fighting operation called…Pancratium. It's about damn time. I've been rooting around over there, seeing what I could see."

Mack doesn't waste any time nodding at the appropriate places. Instead, he focuses on scribbling more as Felix sheds a little more light on the shadow world. "I heard something about the cagefighting, but no specifics. Anyway, I'll tell you this much. I'll be completely fucking stunned if whoever is running Staten isn't running these… pirates." There's something about hunting pirates that just doesn't jive with modern police work. "Apparently, our DA doesn't have the balls to go after anybody out there. You think if I can come up with a solid casefile you've got a prosecutor that can actually do something with it?"

Felix looks, perhaps pardonably so, smug. "I heard. Yes. I've got an in through a kidnapping vic. An Evolved healer this Logan bastard tookand tortured to use as his own personal first aid kit for his pack of human pit bulls. As a kidnapping, under good old Little Lindbergh, it can be a Bureau case. And it gets us a lead on building a bigger case on the human trafficking that has been and is taking place on Staten."

Mack takes a quick glance back down at a previous page of his pad. "Abigail Beauchamp. This might sound totally twisted, but if I can make the human trafficking into a positive I'm going to. Wouldn't be SCOUT's jurisdiction without Evo's. If we can take the whole damn pyramid down at once, there might be enough of a power void when its over we can restore order out there. Uhm… the cagefighting, what did you call it? Pancratium? It still active? I'm thinking I'd like to take a run at Logan, see what I can get out of him, but I've only got one theory on how to get close enough to do any good…"

This is music to Felix's ears, clearly. "I am not sure. I'm too well known at this point to do much real digging, there," he says, ruefully, shifting his coffee mug to his other hand. "Take Logan directly? I think we can get a warrant for kidnapping, at the very least. What're you thinking?"

"I don't want to bring him in just yet. I'm gonna head over to Staten and poke around, sans badge. Maybe check out the Happy Dagger, talk about my great amateur boxing career." Mack repockets the notepad, slipping the pen into the same orifice with the little tab stuck over the lip. "If he see's me as money, he'll be more amiable than he will be sitting in an interrogation room. If I can get something out of him or get close to Muldoon through 'em, we build our case on both of 'em at the same time. Bring 'em both in, turn everything over to your guy. If I come up empty handed, we can still bring in Logan and lean on him til he breaks."

Fel looks rueful. "I wish I could go with you, but if you're seen with me there, it'll blow your cover right out of the water. Be very careful, we don't know what kind of Evolved powers he has in his stable. He himself is a chemical manipulator. A human drug, and capable of a great deal of coercion. Be -extremely- careful if you get into his presence," he admonishes. "But that sounds great, over all."

Mack taps the wall of Felix's cubicle. "I appreciate the heads up. I'm… kind of uniquely suited to deal with this kind of danger. Doesn't make it /fun/, though." He takes a step back. "And I understand. Let me see what I can come up with. I'll keep you up to date with anything important, see what your take is. Plus, unless you have an objection it might be a good idea to pass anything on to your guy. I want to be sure I don't do anything to mess with the case once it hits a judge's docket."

"My guy?" Felix says, arching abrow at Mack. "I'm delighted to help however I can. Logan is an unmitigated bastard, and I want to see him do some hard, hard time," He takes a mouthful of his coffee, makes a face.

"Your prosecutor. I know how to do things the right way, but I've had assistant DA's give me a heads up here or there to keep an investigation water tight. If this guy was selling some baggies with green herbs in them, I wouldn't be too worried about it. I don't want either one of them slipping their way out of it. Sounds to me like we're pretty well on the same page about that."

The Fed says, blithely, "Oh, we've got at least one eyewitness. We'll be able to get this guy but good," he assures Mack. "We'll be as transparent as we can. No information hoarding, I swear. Though…it seems we have someone leaking info about Evolved criminals," he adds, tone more disgusted.

Mack nods and crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't know how much you've got on your plate right now… seeing as how we're in the spirit of cooperation, you got the time to look into who our mole might be? If I can get deep enough we could set up a controlled leak. See who spits out what shit we feed 'em, figure it out based on what comes out on the other side. Its a long shot, but its not impossible. But I know this probly ain't your only case, if you don't have the time I can ask Liz or somebody to do it. I'd feel a little better about it the smaller we can keep the loop, though." Talk about taking a big bite… pirates, human traffikers, cagefighters, criminals, and moles all at once? Shotgun police work; shoot at all the birds and see which ones you bring down?

Fel can get behind that. "That's what the Feds are supposed to do," he says, blithely. "Pick up with IA misses. I'll see what I can do….but yes, the closer we keep this to the vest, the better. Logan knew what this girl could do because a cop leaked it to him."

"Appreciate it. Maybe we can do together what we can't do alone. Anyway, I gotta tie up some loose ends before I head over to the Island. I'll keep in touch. If you need to get a hold of me when I'm not around just leave a message on my desk and I'll get back to you ASAP."

Fel notes, with a rather wry expression, "Do me a favor? Keep as much of our communication as possible on paper, rather than email, or phone? I have a creeping suspicion this guy may be a technopath."

Mack can't help but suppress a laugh when he heards the words. "Don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly a gadget kinda guy." His computer /is/ almost completely buried. "I prefer face time when I can manage it, but I'll take extra precautions in this case."

Felix offers a mocking little salute, two fingers to his brow. "Good," he says, simply. "I'm around, you know how to find me."

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