Participants:
| Scene Title | How To Sneak Into Carnegie Hall |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The answer? Practice. |
| Date | November 12, 2008 |
An Undisclosed Safehouse
Helena said she'd be in touch, as Hana wanted to talk to her, and they made arrangements to meet up at one of the safehouses. Helena is there, with the added bonus of a brown bag, and shown to the safehouse's kitchen, she unpacks it — apples, and a jar of honey. While she waits for Hana, she putters in the kitchen, letting momentary domesticity prove a balm for recent upset — coring the apples and slicing them up, pouring some of the honey in a bowl.
All else being equal, it isn't Hana's way to keep a person waiting. So it's not more than a few minutes before the woman makes her own entrance to the kitchen, appearance heralded by the sound of footsteps in the hall. The sight of Helena puttering about is met with what might be either mild curiosity or surprise, although not so much as to actually impede Hana's forward motion. She unzips her jacket and sets it over the back of a chair, then pulls said piece of furniture out to where she can sit in it comfortably. Not so much sitting at the table — not with the chair pulled out and turned slightly away — as just sitting.
"It's a little late." Helena notes tenatively, and gently pushes the dish of apple slices with its smaller one of honey toward the middle of the table in Hana's direction, "But happy new year." The Jewish New Year was last month, apples and honey the traditional food for its celebration. "What did you want to talk about?"
Talk about something coming out of left field. Far left. Hana blinks at the younger woman, surprised into momentary silence. She looks down to the bowls, expression inscrutable, then lifts her gaze to Helena and nods once. "Thank you." The woman's voice is as reserved as her expression, but she takes the time to reach over and dip one of the apple slices in the honey before continuing with actual business. "We should lay out exactly what training you want Phoenix to pursue," Hana replies. "There won't be time to cover 'everything' thoroughly; I'd like to know what you want to focus on."
Helena does the same, though she's perhaps a bit comically liberal with her honey. "I want us to be able to successfully infiltrate government holding facilities, liberate the occupant prisoners, and extract them." she says frankly.
The first apple slice eaten, Hana looks across the table at her companion with what could be a touch of either exasperation or amusement. "I can drill Phoenix in stealth and awareness. Combat. Systems — security and breaking it. Tactics and strategy. Possibly even hone their powers, though that's really Bennet's particular skill. All of that's necessary. But you're going to have to prioritize."
The young woman is silent for a long time. She tends to do that, making no bones about considering her options. "I think we can find ourselves ways to handle security systems." Hel says. "I think physical training for everyone, but I think a select group is going to need tactics and strategy. That should be first. "
Hana makes no attempt to disrupt Helena's pensive silence, letting her sift through her thoughts. She eats another slice of apple in the meantime. "Very well," the technopath agrees, nodding slightly. Whether she approves or not is difficult to tell; her demeanor is neutral. "Then that's where we'll start. If they want to get good at it, they'll need to be prepared to put a lot of time in."
"We'll make it work." Helena says softly. "I've been reading. I was actually kind of surprised that the CIA allowed their primary surveillance training manuals available to the public. Library of Congress numbers and everything." Yes, Helena actually bothered to take the time to try and read up on spook procedures.
The ex-operative's lips curve slightly at Helena's words. Just slightly. "There's a lot out there, if you look for it. But textbook instruction, while useful, isn't quite the same." Hana looks a bit past Helena at one of the kitchen windows, her thoughts apparently digressing slightly.
"Can't hurt though, right? I did learn some things, though." Helena can't help grinning. "Dead drops, brush passes, honey traps. I think if this isn't how my life ended up, maybe I could have been a spy." A thoughtful pause, "Or a chef."
A third slice of apple is swirled in the honey, though Hana doesn't eat it immediately. She just keeps the viscous liquid from dripping off it while considering Helena. "Rather different goals," the woman observes. "But someday you might still be either."
"I could be a spy who cooks gourmet meals," Helena posits, "Or a chef who bakes top secret intelligence into her quiches. You never know, right?" Nice to know Helena's sense of absurd is still intact. She also takes a slice and dips. "Is there anything you think I should learn? I mean me, specifically. Because…anything you want to teach me." Oh god, it's the role-model thing again.
Hana raises one brow at Helena's quips, but occupies herself with eating the slice of apple before it gets her hand too thoroughly stickied. She doesn't reply to the question right away, but gazes across the table at her companion, considering her for a long moment. "You might need strategy most of all," she muses aloud. "If you're to be planning ops. But analysis could be more important still. Picking apart the other side's moves. Predicting what comes next."
"Game theory." Helena nods. Yes, she has been reading. "How do you learn something like that?" She does seem baffled by it, but also fairly certain Hana can unlock that mystery. "I'm not bad at scrapping, and I know which end of a gun to point, so I was thinking I might better focus on other things. But you're the expert."
"Practice," Hana replies, quite seriously deadpan. The answer is always practice. She cants her head just a touch, expression rueful. "I have never been a teacher. But I was a top analyst with Mossad for about five years." Implication being that in this, too, she can train Helena.
"How else do you sneak into Carnegie Hall." Helena murmurs, and looks to Hana. "When do we start?"
Hana looks across the table at Helena, and spreads her hands, one dark eyebrow arching. "For theory… Is there anywhere you need to be?"
Helena shakes her head. "Not at the moment." she admits. "If someone needs me, they can call."
"Then we might as well not waste any time," Hana declares. Scooting her chair in closer to the table, the technopath settles in comfortably; they may be here a while. And so the lesson begins.
 November 12th: God, That's Vile! |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 November 12th: Miracles, Massage, and Make-overs |