Herding Cats Might Be Easier


elisabeth_icon.gif lene_icon.gif

Scene Title Herding Cats Might Be Easier
Synopsis Lene visits the Endgame safehouse with information regarding one Frenchwoman in custody.
Date April 5, 2011

Endgame Safehouse

Juggling a bag of groceries in each arm and a cup of coffee in one hand was difficult enough from the short walk from the corner market she had stopped off at on the way to the safehouse — what do you give people in hiding, after all? A red gerber daisy plant peeks out of the top of one of the bags, because Lene assumes the people inside the house need cheering up — but when Jolene makes it to the front door she realizes that she a) doesn't have a key and b) doesn't really have a hand with which to open it.

Or to knock.

A foot in a sparkly TOMS shoe lifts and kicks the door as gently as she can to make it a "knock" rather than a pounding that might make the inhabitants think that the police are outside. "It's meeee," she croons softly. Liz should be able to hear that, right?

As she waits, she bends her head, her red hair covered by a Yankees cap, to slurp the liquid that's accumulated on the top of her coffee cup's lid.

The audiokinetic, who arranged to stay here another night or two instead of Teo's just because of the negator's presence, does hear it. Elisabeth has managed to come up with a large pot and she's gotten the makings for a pot of soup that will keep easily. She hears the knocking at the door downstairs and wipes her hands, recognizing the voice. She doesn't know Lene well, well but she's not a danger. When the blonde opens the door, she's dressed in a scuffed, torn pair of low-rider jeans and a gray fleece with the sleeves pulled to the elbows. Her hair is hainging down her back, loose except for the front section which Liz has yanked into a barette that she thought to pack in her gear to keep it off her face. It's a long mass these days. "Jolene," she says softly, surprised to see the girl. Reaching out to take the bag, she says, "C'mon up. We're using one of the second floor kitchens."

"Hey, Elisabeth," the younger woman says, smiling a little uncertainly as she enters, glancing around the entry way as she does. "I figured you could use some stuff… I can run out and get other stuff if you need it," she offers, shaking out the one arm that's now sore from being crooked into one position and weighed down by the bag for so long.

She lets Liz lead the way to the kitchen upstairs where she puts the grocery bag on the counter and begins to sort it out. "How are you guys holding up?"

The gentle hum of sound that seems to accompany Elisabeth everywhere right now has a soft middle G sound. It's a struggle to quell it so she doesn't right now unless she has to — her anxiety levels are just bleeding through. "Uhm," Liz replies as she goes up the stairs. "Well…. I can make a grocery list if you don't mind." She grins a little. "I'm going to be kind of in and out when I can, but … well, I've got nothing better to do than cook, so feeding the people already here seems like the least I can do while we hole up and wait for the furor to die down a bit, yeah?" She helps unload the bag, glancing at the girl. "How're things back at the office so far?"

The red Gerber is pulled from the bag and brought over to the window sill to sit, then Lene turns to lean against the counter. "Oh… after Richard's messages… I haven't gone in. And it was mid-terms this week. Which I think I totally rocked." There's a flash of a smile.

"I can get you more groceries, sure, if you make a list. But actually, in addition to eggs, milk, bread and bacon, I come bearing a bit of intel, too."

There's a pause. "About Davignon."

Elisabeth's head comes up and the gentle hum intensifies just ever so slightly. "What about her?" she asks softly, her brows pulling together in worry. "Congratulations on your mid-terms going well," she adds sincerely.

Lene scratches her nose when the hum crescendos as if it makes her itch. "I don't know the time or day yet," she confesses, grimacing at the woeful lack of information. "But the DoEA is going to be moving her, and most likely deporting her."

She lifts her coffee cup to take a swallow, eyes sliding away after imparting the news before coming back to meet Liz's. "As soon as I can find out more, I'll let you know."

The blonde's eyes sharpen on Lene, and she puts the groceries the girl brought away. Then she comes over to lean both her hands on the counter, her weight shifted to one foot. "Really." The statement is dry as dust. "And exactly how did you get your hands on that intel?" Elisabeth asks quietly. "And why bring it to me and not Richard?" She's not trying to intimidate Jolene, but she is looking for an answer on how sensitive information got into her hands.

Thin brows raise and Lene glances down. "If Richard's here, I'll tell him. You were the one to open the door," she points out, taking another sip of her coffee, though it might just be a way to buy a moment of thinking time.

"I have a source at the Department," she offers when she brings the cup back down, arms crossing against her chest (is she really wearing an I <3 NY shirt under a Mr. Roger's style cardigan?). "My source is good. It's legitimate information, I promise."

"He tells me you're working for someone," Elisabeth comments quietly, picking up the bottle of water she's been drinking from. "Forgive me for sounding… suspicious, but I have to admit that considering the huge step I just took into the realm of ohdeargodpleasedon'tletmehavefuckedeverything I'm…. less than trusting of DoEA intel." She smiles a little, her blue eyes holding a bruised look in them. "Especially since you're unwilling to talk about who you work with besides us." She swallows some of the water.

Lene bites her lower lip and nods. "I get it. I do. You're smart to be suspicious. I just … figured you'd want to know. But the DoEA doesn't know that my source knows me, that there's any connection between my source and you and Endgame and Redbird and Davignon. Not everyone who works at the DoEA is a bad person, just like not everyone who works at FRONTLINE is willing to shoot and kill on sight of a Red. Er, Evo."

She lifts her cup, swirling it a little to make the liquid slosh. "All the caramel drops to the bottom," she explains, before taking a sip again, then lowering it. "So I'll get you the intel if I can, and you can do what you will with it… but it isn't a trap. They won't be expecting you to know about it, Liz. Not saying that they won't have precautions in place — but it won't be…"

It won't be like Saturday night.

"My source is just trying to help. Me, you… the cause."

She's not a stupid woman. Elisabeth files away the word 'Red' as an appellation for now, and simply nods. "No. Not everyone who works at the DoEA is bad. Not everyone who worked for FRONTLINE is a killing machine. Not everyone who works on our side of the fence is an activist. Most of us are just … looking to do the best we can." The blonde sets her water bottle down and she watches Jolene. "For what it's worth to any of you… I had good reasons for taking the chance. And contrary to what my very pissed off lover may think, it had nothing to do with picking a side other than this one." Or else she wouldn't be here. She sighs heavily. "If you get anything more solid, let me know," she finally says. "Richard'll have a stroke if he thinks we're even considering breaking someone out of custody." Which means Elisabeth will be weighing whether to talk to our own people or not. She frowns slightly. "Deportation might be the safest fucking thing for Remi, honestly."

"For what it's worth," Lene echoes, "I don't think badly of you. Not even precogs can predict everything that's going to happen from any given chance we take. Things change. And if there's even a small chance that what you wanted was going to come out of it — if the good would have outweighed all the shit? Then it would have been worth it."

The coffee is drained with a couple swallows, and Lene moves to drop the cup in a trash can. "You have to take chances sometimes. I believe in that wholeheartedly, Liz. And sometimes it's a mistake but when it works, it's the best feeling in the world, isn't it? To know you were brave enough to risk your life to make the world a better place?"

She glances at the door that leads to the other rooms. "I'll get the information to you. It's up to you on how you use it," the redhead finally says with a shrug. "As for Richard… he's taken his own risks plenty of times. He'll forgive you, I'm sure of it."

Elisabeth laughs softly. She studies the girl quietly. "And what risks are you taking, by bringing this to me now?" she asks. "Is Remi someone important to your source, to you, or is she simply an innocent you don't think deserves what she's getting?" The question may come across as slightly rhetorical, but in all reality the blonde can't help but wonder. "And does your source know that you're telling me this?"

Lene narrows her eyes as she considers the questions. "Negligible, C, and let's say 'no' for the sake of protecting the innocent," she says brightly. "Look, it's just information. The source saw it, and knew who I worked for, and mentioned it to me. I don't think it was super classified, or my source probably wouldn't have found out. They're just not that high up. It's not like my source is, you know, Praeger or someone."

"Now, they might be listening a little closer for any more information on it than they would any ol' case, but that's about it. It's nothing more ominous than that," Lene says with a shrug.

Elisabeth shrugs gracefully. "All right, then," she says with a small smile. "Mostly I'm just keeping my ears open right now, but … if something pops that makes it look like retrieving the woman would be feasible… " Hey, can't hurt to know about it, right? "They say don't look a gift horse in the mouth," she quips softly. "I don't know if the 'cause' will appreciate you, but … thank you. Remi's important to Jaiden and Graeme, so news of her situation is most welcome even when it's not the best news."

Lene smiles a little wider in exchange for Liz's. "I'll do what I can," she promises. "I should get going. I'll check in once in a while, see if there's anything that I can get you guys."

She reaches out to squeeze the blonde's shoulder as she moves past her for the door. "Soup smells great, by the way," she tosses over her shoulder on her way out.
"Thank you, Jolene," Elisabeth says quickly, her hand coming up to grip the girl's for a moment. "Keep an eye on Richard, will you? He's…. prone to recklessness when he's this pissed off," she murmurs.

"I'll see what I can do," Lene promises as she disappears down the steps. "Though I imagine herding cats might be easier," is the last quip tossed up the stairs before the front door opens and closes behind her.

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