Participants:
| Scene Title | I have some info |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Adam tries to give Matt some info about Magnes. |
| Date | May 24, 2009 |
Various
Hardly a day goes by that Matt Parkman doesn't get home long after the sun has set. While some men his age and with his stress level crawl momentarily into a bottle after a long day, Parkman finds his solace on the roof of Dorchester Towers. Still dressed in his suit with his sidearm in his shoulder holster, the government-employed telepath sits on a wooden, slated lounge chair that some socialite undoubtedly uses to sun herself. In contrast to any previous user, Parkman is hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his eyes closed tightly in concentration.
New York is a city that never sleeps, and just so, it is a city whose inhabitants never stop thinking. Somewhere among them is someone who knows something about Maury Parkman. There's someone who knows something about Molly Walker.
Someone, somewhere.
But New York is a terribly huge place, which means Parkman has a terribly huge headache.
Adam buys a burn phone from a bodega in Brooklyn. It seems unlikely that Matt Parkman has a trace on his personal cell phone, but it never hurts to be careful. After a quiet afternoon of falafels and golf balls, he settles down on a bench and takes out the card Tracy Strauss gave him. And then, in no time, he has called one Matt Parkman, son of Maury Parkman, a man he plans to kill at some point.
The phone in Parkman's pocket rings several times before the classic sound pulls the man out of his thought-surfing trance. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose even as he reaches for the slim device and flips it open without even looking at the number. No, there's no trace on Parkman's personal line, but that doesn't mean that a certain former Israeli Defense Force soldier may not be listening in.
"Parkman," the tired Department of Homeland Securtiy deputy secretary drones out, more focused on his headache than the phone held against his ear.
Adam speaks in a northern American accent. "Hello, is this Matt Parkman?" not Maury Parkman, henchman to Arthur Petrelli, "I was given this number if I had information on terrorist activities. Is that you?"
The fact that this man is calling Matt rather than going through the department's grunts is Parkman's first red flag. He narrows his eyes and scowls at his phone for a moment before returning it to his ear and pursing his lips. "Who is this?" he demands in a low but firm tone, his already frayed nerves on edge.
Adam considers that, who is this? There's a pause and he says, "You can call me rebel. I have information on Magnes Varlane, the terrorist that did that business in Japan? Is this information that you'd be interested in?"
"I'll be interested," Parkman answers as he tries to control his breathing, "as soon as you tell me who gave you this number." Magnes Varlane isn't a name that Parkman himself is familiar with, but that may be the fault of DHS's structuring. Not everyone gets briefed on every person of interest, after all.
Adam sighs audibly into the phone, "You're so like your father. Always talking around important points." he pauses, then goes on, "Magnes Varlane is a protege of Hiro Nakamura, who your government recently identified as a terrorist. In fact, if you'll check, Magnes stayed with the Nakamuras while he was in Japan…he might still be there, but I think it's more likely he's returned to New York. He likes to hang out at Old Lucy's in Greenwich village. Also, he may still be working for a pizza delivery service in Brooklyn." he lets all this information flow, even if Matt tries to interupt him to get information about his father.
But Parkman knows better. Even with his initial question still unanswered, his brain grabs at the information so freely given like a Hungry Hungry Hippo game played by an over-excited child. When he speaks again, his voice is only a step or two away from a growl. Someone's been doing some yoga or something. "How do you know my father?"
Adam sighs, "Perhaps I'll tell you, if you tell me you have the information I just gave you."
"You just gave it to me," Parkman says in the most deadpan tone he can muster, "And I got it. It's a great connection." Gritting his teeth, Parkman swallows. "How do you know my father?"
Adam considers, before he answers. In fact, he doesn't answer, he asks another question, "Matt, I'm about one second from hanging up this phone. You should be more pleasant and forthright. What's your interest in your father?"
"I will if you are," Parkman counters. "But I care more about how you know Maury Parkman than how you got this number." He prioritizes well. "My interest in my father is my own. I could ask you what your interest in seeing Magnes Varlane hunted down by DHS is, but I don't really care. That's your business. How you know a member of my family sort of crosses that line into my business. And forgive me for not being pleasant with a man who won't give me his name even when he knows mine. So you can hang up, and maybe I won't help you with your little vengeance plan. Or you can stay on the phone and answer my questions. Or would you rather do this in person?"
Adam chuckles a bit, "Matthew, do you think I'm an idiot? Telepathy runs in the family." he pauses, "I know who your father is working with. In fact, I even know where your father is. But you see, I'm holding all the cards. You're right, you might not go after Magnes, but to be honest, this is more of a whim thing. I have a feeling your business with your father is more than w him. In fact, I think it's important with a capital I. Do you have a problem with your dad? Do you know he's doing what he's doing to protect you?"
There's a brief, airy chuckle on the other end of the line, followed by a pause. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you're not my shrink. If you want into my head, you're going to have to give me something." Magnes Varlane apparently doesn't count. Not that playing this game isn't tempting due to the possible prize of information regarding Maury and Molly, but the reliability of that information is still in question. "If you want to contact me again, have the decency to do it the right way, through the proper channels. Have a great night." Doing his best to bite back building rage, Parkman jabs his thumb into the END button.
Adam arches a brow for a moment and looks into the phone. He shakes his head and says, "Why are people always so unable to put their pride before their resourcefulness." he walks quietly towards the river and tosses the phone halfway across. Well, not halfway, but part off the way. He's got a good arm, but it's not superhuman.