Participants:
| Scene Title | Great Responsibility |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Minea arrives at Biomere Research to follow up on their last encounter. |
| Date | February 11, 2009 |
Biomere Research Incorporated.
Founded in 1996 to develop and utilize specialty animal models to determine the efficacy of new drugs in preventing or ameliorating human disease, the companyis a full Service Contract Research Organization (CRO) providing preclinical consulting services, early stage drug discovery and development services for pharmaceutical, biotech and biomedical device industries. Situated in the heart of Morningside Heights, the tall and curved black-glass building is an imposing landmark amidst one of the the regions of New York City that wasn't devastated by the bomb. It's proximity to Columbia University is also likely no small coincidence.
It's hard to imagine what a pharmacutical biotech firm could want with a Documents Specialist from the ISA. It's hard to imagine why a Biotech firm would keep a man like Roger Goodman in their employ, and why they would have an armed Evolved strike-force at their command. Questions like these bring Minea Dahl to the glass doors and marble floors of their headquarters.
On the inside, Biomere Research looks like any other corporate building, staffed by ordinary secretaries and filled with busy researchers. From the front desk where she checks in to her appointment, to the glass elevator that takes her to the 22nd floor, everything seems normal. Carpeted hallways on the 22nd floor, rows of offices that aren't just facades, they're filled with active staff and executives. And from the directions the secretary gave, there is just an unassuming wooden door with a simple nameplate on it waiting for Minea Dahl.
"Roger Goodman, Public Relations Director."
Public relations…
She's not dressed like a run of the mill agent. which fits in with this soo not run of the mill company it seems. Out of deference, the MP5 isn't in her purse. Something about bringing a submachine gun into reasearch company. Probably wouldn't go over well. Immaculate and quite unlike the woman left in the apartment after Goodman and his task force left. Purse over right arm, the brunette knocks on the name plated door, fair warning that Goodman had an impending visitor.
"Come in Miss Dahl," Roger calls out through the door, affording Minea the permission to enter. The office matches the exterior devor, three walls of paneled wood and one large plate glass window that overlooks the skyline of Manhattan, giving a perfectly depressing view of the ruins of Midtown in all its jagged and broken glory. Seated at a glass-topped desk at the middle of the room, Roger Goodman looks far more casual than he did yesterday; suit jacket hung on a coatrack by his desk, just in a white dress shirt and red tie. "It's good to see you decided to be so prompt, Miss Dahl, I know a reliable person when I see them."
Goodman waves one hand to motion towards the door, "If you could close that." He instructs, then going over the process of folding up some documentation he was working on at his desk, sliding the paperwork aside before leaning back in his chair, the soft creak of black leather accompanying his movements.
The door's closed behind the brunette with a nod of her head. "Did you chosoe this view for a reason or was it just assigned to you?" There's a gesture, polite, to the ruins of the city outside the plate glass window. it brings her close to his desk, offering her hand to him. "It's a waste of my time and your time if i'm late. I have to admit, you had my curosity piqued last night. Not often I get the chance to defend myself in high heels."
"Perceptive." Goodman notes, somewhat distracted by filing the paperwork away in an organized stack on his desk, making absolutely certain one side of the file folders are flush with the desk's edge and not in the least bit crooked. "I think looking out and seeing what happens when watchful eyes go astray is an important, sobering thing." Motioning to one of the pair of chairs opposite of his desk, Roger finally leans back fully and folds his hands together, elbows resting on the arms of his chair.
"I'll be straight to the point, Miss Dahl. Biomere Research is a shell-company purchased in the late nineties by the organization I work for. Only a handful of the employees of this company have any understanding of who they truly work for, or what their research is actually aiming towards." Looking Minea up and down, Roger watches her for a moment, "What we're aiming towards, Miss Dahl, is a future where the panoramic view of carnage behind me is not repeated."
Hence the guest seats get the view behind him. Minea smooths her hand underneath her as she sits, crossing legs at ankles, purse to the side. "After being told last evening that you only had secretarial positions open, I clued in that this likely wasn't what it looks like, but then, I'm not stranger to looking like something I'm not really." Minea eases back in her chair, back flush it's back. "Will I be enlightened as to what exactly i'm being offered? I don't think you need someone to verify document authenticity, much less someone who can make ID's for people or forge documention. Or homeland would already have asked DOD to put a little extra work on my table"
Roger offers his guest a mild smile and a shake of his head, "Certainly not Homeland Security, though we do operate under the auspices of their jurisdiction when beneficial to us. Our… actual organization, as I told you yesterday, operates under the protctive umbrella of anonymity, even down to name. We do not, officially, have a name. We are an organization of like-minded individuals from different walks of life and different backgrounds that have united under a single goal — to protect the world from the threat of Evolved willing to use their abilities in harm of others." Roger tilts his head to one side, "Other have called us, the Company. It's a monicker that has stuck."
Leaning forward, Roger folds his hands on his desk distractedly brushing an errant paperclip to one side. "The Company was founded in the 1970's by a close-knit circle of individuals aware of the power of the Evolved. We have been aware of their existance for decades, and up until the destruction you see behind you was made, we were willing to keep to the shadows and privately fund our own work. The reason you did not see a Midtown Manhattan years ago, is largely because of our efforts to keep dangerous Evolved in check." Roger eyes the paperclip again, then looks back up to Minea.
"However, in light of Nathan Petrelli's famous speech, we were forced to bring ourselves to the attention of the United States government. We now operate in tandem — and in secret — with the government towards our original end. We have decades of experience dealing with the Evolved, and hundreds of agents worldwide." He inclines his head towards Minea, brows raising. "That is where you come in, Miss Dahl. You have the proper skill-sets we are looking for in prospective agents."
The Company. It niggles at her in regards to something, having seen that somewhere and in reference to just that, a clandestine group that was mentioned in all that data that she and christian got. There's a flicker in the womans eyes when Goodman brings up that moniker. She's not bothering to hide the recognition either. "You don't care about my art skills, you want me for… what I displayed last night," understandable. "What's the catch?"
"A little of both, all things considered." Reaching out, Roger presses one button on his phone system, though there's no response from whatever he does. His hands are folded on the desktop again immediately after. "Your Document Analysis skills will find a use, I assure you of that, but I cannot decry the benefits of your prior military training." His eyes track over to the file folder he had moved, then back to Minea. "I was looking over your service record," His head quirks to one side, "Largely dull and uninteresting. I take it you might want a better lot from life, something with more flavor. Your psyche exam I was able to pull from your file showed some tendencies and predelictation towards the ability to take orders that we find promising."
Taking a moment to consider her question, Roger exhales a slow breath and gives a slight nod of his head. "There is no real catch, per-se, but there is a certain level of plausible deniability that you'll be required to keep up, should you remain interested. What we want from you, Miss Dahl, is your overall skill package and…" He carefully chooses his words, "Prioer field experience. In return for working with us, we ask that you keep your affiliation with our organization a secret. Failing to do so will, of course, end with your termination from the organization — and I don't mean that as a thinly veiled death threat. We don't kill our former agents, we're not the bad guys." He adds with a chuckle, reclining back in his seat again.
"I think the next best way for this interview to go is to address some of your concerns and questions." He motions towards Minea with a broad gesture, "What are some of your questions about our operations, and what would potentially be hindering you from accepting our offer?"
"The excitement in my career has always been derived from creating documents that pass muster in whichever situation they are in. When you can't tell the origional from the copy, it means that i've been successful. I took more pleasure though out of my cover. But my skill with forging has been the main sticking point with DOD and why I moved from active service to the civilian sector" She leans to the right side of the chair, regarding the bald black man before her.
"My prior field experience though intruiges me as to what you mean" Her lips moue out a bit in thought. "What would hinder me? Ethics obviously for one. Do you hunt them down and kill them? Capture and put them away or just make note of who's who and leave them be? Pay is another; unless you can offer me the same as what I make, then, I'd have to seriously consider the change. What else is involved in switching my contract to… The Company. I assume I would be running the gamut of physical exam, another psych profiling and the whole gauntlet. Lastly, do I work alone or would I be partnered up?"
Nodding as he listens to the line of questions, none of them seem to blindside Roger, which likely is the source of his serene smile. "As long as you would prefer to remain behind a desk, there is always a call for documentation analysis and repilication on our end. Though despite your dissuasion, you have some keen senses in field-operation, as I evidenced yesterday. As for our operational procedures," Dark eyes track the immaculate surface of the desk, as if searching for anything out of place. "That is a case-by-case basis, if we encounter dangerous Evolved who pose an incalculable risk to the populace that cannot be restrained or reasoned with, we will operate with deadly force. This is the case with indivuduals such as Sylar." He raises both bows when speaking the name of the man who — on record — destroyed Midtown.
"On the whole, we perform cataloging of the Evolved, like a catch and release program. This was by and large our primary operation up until the bomb, we do far less bag and tags these days, since the Linderman Act's registation covers more ground for us. However dangerous Evolved are quietly, and discretely, captured and detained in one of our local facilities while we ascertain the threat level of their ability. More often than not, we are concerned with what are Tier 3 Evolved, ones outside of the bounds of the Linderman Act, with dangerous and uncontroled abilities. In most cases we offer education and quiet integration into the Company for these individuals willing to listen." There's just a faint smile after that.
"Pay is…" Roger manages a quiet chuckle, "We are a well-funded organization, privately bankrolled. I am more than comfortable with offering you one and a half times what you are currently making with the Department of Defense. More, of course, provided you maintain a stable and loyal work-ethic. As far as the transfer goes, you won't need to worry about that. We have agencies that will set you up with appropriate transfer and cover as a shift into the Department of Homeland Security — on paper. You will also be afforded low-level DHS security clearance."
"As for…" Roger's eyes wander from the desk to Minea, "other issues, we'll cross those bridges as we come to them. Basic health exams and psych evaluations are expected, yes. Once you pass our training regimen — which will likely take three weeks, you will be partnered with an Evolved agent. We operate on a distinct pairing; one of us, one of them."
"I'm no stranger to being paired with an evolved. My last partner was, before he met a truck head on," Minea's forefinger taps the end of the arm of her chair. "How long do I have to make up my mind about taking the job with your and yours, and if I choose not to, what happens then?"
"Yes, Mister Powell." Roger nods slowly, "Unfortunate what happened to him, truly." On so many counts, given the Company's prior run-ins with Christian, but that doesn't need to be mentioned at all. "The sooner the better is the matter at hand here, I'd like it if you could give us an answer by tonight, but I understand that isn't always realistic." Pushing up from his chair, Roger steps away from the desk and moves towards the window, turning to look out at the ruins of Midtown as he folds his hands behind his back.
"I would prefer an answer from you within forty-eight hours, though if your deliberations ar egoing to take longer I ask that you keep in touch. The card I gave you has my direct line on it." Staring at the ruins in the distance, Roger's voice takes on a more hushed quality. "Your assistance would be greatly appreciated, Miss Dahl. I assure you, there's much we could learn from one another…" Giving a faint shake of his head, Goodman's eyes track to Minea's reflection in the glass. "If you choose to decline the offer, we'll have some confidentiality documents for you to sign, which I presume you'll understand. Then we go our seperate ways, no harm done."
Turning slowly, Roger looks to Minea with an askance stare, "But I will impress upon you how important our work is, and how much we would like to have you on board."
Minea stands, no move made to take her purse, just the push up of both hands against the arms of the seat as she comes to join him by the window. "You're evolved, Mr. Goodman. What's your thoughts on others who are born with this change in their genetic structure that gives them this added benefit"
One brow raises slowly at the question, and Roger turns around to fully take in Minea. "I, personally, like to quote a very venerable piece of literature that is no less timely today than when it was written — 'With great power, comes great repsponsibility.'" There is a crooked smile the seemingly straight-laced man delivers as he quotes from Spiderman, "But it is truth, I feel we Evolved have a great responsibility put upon us to help protect and guide those of us who have yet to undergo the next Evolutionary step. I do not see it as a matter of if all humans will one day be like myself, but when." He gives a slow, subtle nod of his head to Minea.
"I feel that those of us who act poorly in representation of we as a loose-knit people irreperably damage the future of our society as a whole, and people like myself are bound by the ideals of an umbrella of protection to offer additional security to our brothers and sisters — Evolver or not."
"The behavior of the one, reflects upon the behavior of the whole." Even she catches the spiderman reference as she glances out over the wasteland that is midtown. "You won't have to wait even two hours, Mr. Goodman. Last night, while a bit unorthodox, got my ire up and left me quite upset after. Made me realize what part of my career I do enjoy as well. I accept."
That surprises him, and it's visible on his face. Nodding his head slowly, there's a thin smile that creeps up across his lips as he moves towards his desk once more, bending over to push the powder blue folder towards Minea, with the logo of Biomere Research imprinted on the front. "Then, Miss Dahl," he flips the folder open to a single page document with the company's corporate log on it, and several signature lines on the bottom. "I think we have a secretary position that just opened for you." Producing a pen from his jacket, he lays it down on the document and slides it forward, white smile bright against his dark skin.
"Just sign here."
Minea glances down at the paper, looking over it and reading the text on the single piece of paper. "I have one request, before I sign…" Her fingertips pressed to the table, not touching the folder and it's paper quite yet.
Arching one brow again, Roger gives his head a silent cast to the side, looking down to the documentation, then quietly back up to Minea, the expression on his face expressing his willingness to entertain her request.
"Leah Deckard. I have a bone to pick with her, — not enough to want to kill her — but enough that I want to see her at least brought in. She blew my cover, and had a gun pointed to my head. She can phase, or turn intagible… I'd like to get first crack at findng her, with my partner, whomever my partner ends up being"
Vendetta. Now there's something to work with, isn't there? "Unregistered?" Then a sudden pause, one eye squinting slightly, "Did you say Leah Deckard?" The expression event out, followed by a slow smile as Roger exhales a snorted laugh under his breath, folding his arms across his chest and letting one hand wander free to stroke at his chin. "Yes, Miss Dahl… I think we might just be able to arrange that," he nods to the prospective Agent with that pleased look, "I think we just might."
"Sister to Flint Deckard. She was the one repsonible for Flint Deckard's escape from Agent Wickham and I in the market — It's in my file, I'm sure. I doubt it was overlooked by you Mr.Goodman." There's pause as she reaches for the pen. "Agent Wickam is one of yours, isn't he?"
Roger just offers Minea a lopsided smile at her question, "You'll have plenty of time to familiarize yourself with our stable in training." It was worth a shot though, wasn't it?
"Boy is he one of yours. Glad I had lunch with him the other day." Minea signs — is it her soul? — on the indicated line. "His answers make so much sense now, especially his answer to how to bring down a person who can phase." The pen is handed back over to Goodman. "I assume there will be no more late night break ins?"
Taking back to pen, Roger just quietly smiles away Minea's assurances of her correectness, though at her final question, he does incline his head towards the woman with that same crooked smile he had given her when he quoted from Spiderman earlier. "No, Miss Dahl, no more late night break ins." There's a pause, somewhat telling in its placement as he tucks the pen back away into his pocket.
"At least not by us."
 February 11th: For The Winter |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 February 11th: Backswing |