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Scene Title Impossibilities
Synopsis Mohinder meets Peter and Trask at Belvedere Castle to deliver some bad news.
Date September 9, 2008

Central ParkBelvedere Castle

Constructed from the same stone as the Vista Point which supports it, Belvedere Castle seems to rise out of the earth itself. The miniature Gothic castle is easily visible from a distance, courtesy of both its height and the American flag fluttering from the turret's pinnacle. Its windows overlook views of Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, and the Great Lawn. The interior, however, is anything but Gothic; the halls on both floors are filled with telescopes, microscopes, paper-mache birds, skeletons, and feathers, all laid out as parts of an interactive exhibit. In the Henry Luce Nature Observatory, visitors can borrow binoculars, notepads, maps, and guidebooks with which to study the wildlife of the park.

Sitting high upon Vista Rock, Central Park's second highest point of elevation, Belvedere Castle used to overlook a reservoir of emerald green water teeming with a plethora of feathered wildlife. On overcast days like today, it's more reminiscent of an abandoned haunted house than the majestic piece of Gothic architecture that once stood here. The castle's entrances are boarded up with rotten plywood to keep trespassers from gaining easy entrance to the upper floors while the city is still in the process of post-bomb renovations. A light breeze blows across the water, causing ripples to snake from one end of the reservoir to the other, interdispersed with thousands upon thousands of tiny droplets of rain.

It's drizzling.

Mohinder was probably smart to check the forecast before arranging this meeting with Peter. Most people would rather stay indoors than brave the chill of this early September afternoon, leaving the park sparsely populated by men and women who are too focused on staying dry to take notice of what's going on around them. In this distance, thunder booms like artillery rounds being blasted into the sky. A storm is coming.

Sergei is wrapped well against the weather, stocking cap and scarf, black coat. He has found himself a spot near the Castle in the shadow of a tree where he can observe the proposed meeting, and move in if he needs to, but not be seen by the good Doctor. His powers of course keep anyone not present from knowing he is crashing the party.

This was a situation Peter didn't feel comfortable being in, he was on the defensive here, with Mohinder knowing too much about his whereabouts and associations. Coming alone would have gone against everything Peter has been trying to reinforce in Pariah, but coming with a small army at the same time would have aroused too much suspicion. It was a difficult choice Peter had to make, choosing who he could both trust and depend on in this situation. In the end, it was "Sergei", the member of PARIAH that he trusts the least.

The decision is not entirely grounded in firm logic, Helena he feared taking, in the event that this turns out to be a trap. The last thing he wants on his conscience is another person he cares about dying because of him. It's selfish, and stubborn, but it's Peter's choice. Sergei is responsible, and unlike Daniel — who was Peter's next choice — experienced. As a police officer, he presumes that Sergei has the cunning and forethought to handle the situation without need of supervision or instructions. As reluctant as he is, it is Sergei who Peter has to trust, and learning to trust is something that doesn't come easy to him.

Peter's arrival comes several minutes after Sergei, in an attempt for the pair to not be seen approaching together. His arrival, of course, is through less mundane means as well. The air pushes out in a rush from where Peter appears, blowing the rain away from him as he fills a space through teleportation so suddenly. Beneath the roof of the large pavilion, Peter is kept out of the falling rain, and remains in clear sight of Sergei.

Walking up the steps after he appears, moving beneath the roof of the pavilion, Peter slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks, looking out towards the stairs that descend down and away from the castle, then around to the many columns surrounding the open floor, then finally beyond them to the castle and tower jutting out towards the water. Where are you, Mohinder?

It may be Sergei who spots the geneticist first, but unless Peter told him what to look for beforehand he might not recognize him as the man they're supposed to meet. He sits on a bench near the base of the castle with today's newspaper spread across his lap and an open umbrella cradled in the nook of his arm to keep the water from soaking through his reading material. Like both the members of PARIAH, he appears to be alone — but as Peter and Sergei probably know, appearances are often deceiving. As an outspoken supporter of Homeland Security (and, to a lesser extent, the Company), it's unlikely that he'd make the journey unaccompanied or unarmed.

Trask remains where he can see Suresh and scans the areas he would himself pick to cut off Peter's escapes or observe the scene. His eyes picking out the best security and sniper points.

Walking the periphery of the pavilion, Peter looks out from the columned structure, first out towards the tower, thinking perhaps Suresh had more elevated meeting locations in mind. Then, however, by chance he catches sight of the scientist seated on the bench below where the pavilion rises up. Peter watches him for a moment, eyeing the newspaper for a moment. Peter's brow tenses, and his head tilts to the side, directing his thoughts towards Mohinder — If this was a trap, he wanted to be aware in advance.

The foliage that surrounds the castle makes excellent cover for any snipers that might be lurking on the outskirts of the meeting place, but Trask's keen eye detects none of the telltale signs indicating gunmen in the trees. Instead, he finds himself approached by a young woman dressed in an electric blue raincoat and matching boots. Under her arm, she carries an innocuous-looking clipboard wrapped in plastic baggies. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have a minute?"

Like Trask's glimpse into the trees, Peter's glimpse into Mohinder's mind yields very little information that might suggest this is a trap. Right now, his biggest worry is that the Chai in his thermos is going to get cold before he can drink it all.

Trask frowns at the woman who approaches, he debates for a second between telling her to go away, or answering her questions, deciding which will draw more attention to him. Knowing she might be a plant, he decides to play along, while still paying attention to what is going on behind her at the park bench. "What can I do for you miss?"

The sound of a voice, the only voice, from Sergei's direction draws attention from Peter. She's too far away to get a reading of her thoughts, hopefully Sergei can take care of himself. Peter concentrates, the outline of his body shimmering and distorting before fading out of sight. He takes his time in his approach, walking back through the pavilion and down the long flight of stairs towards the front of the castle grounds through the drizzling rain. For now, the rain isn't hard enough to be a telltale give-away of his location, but should it pick up that may not stay the case.

Approaching the bench Mohinder sits at, Peter slides one hand out of his pocket, keeping it at the ready. "Mohinder," Peter kept his voice down, but the tone was tense and agitated, "Start explaining." Peter was in no mood for light conversation or catching up, he has come to know who Dr. Suresh works for, and what that could mean for both himself and Trask should either of them be careless.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in signing my petition." The woman glances down at her clipboard and then back up at Trask, a small smile creasing the corners of her mouth. She isn't exactly beautiful, but she isn't hard to look at either. If her makeup wasn't running and her dark hair wasn't plastered to her forehead and cheeks with a mixture of rainwater and sweat, she might even be considered attractive by some. "I volunteer for Amnesty International's Manhattan chapter, and we're trying to — uh — hang on just a second." As she speaks she reaches up and plucks a waterproof pen from behind her ear. "Right! As I was saying, we're trying to abolish the Linderman Act. Forcing Evolved individuals to register with the government and part with sensitive information about their personal lives infringes on their basic rights as human beings…"

Recognizing the voice as belonging to Peter Petrelli, Mohinder folds his newspaper in half and tucks into it the courier-style bag sitting at his feet. "Let me begin by saying that I'm a dead man if my superiors find out that I even attempted to contact you," he says. "Regarding what I'm about to tell you, secrecy is of the utmost importance. Do you understand?"

Trask speaks softly, his Russian accent thick, "I'm sorry miss, I do not know what this Linderman Act is, I've been rather out of touch, since they dropped the bomb." His eyes kinda stare through her into space, or maybe just over her shoulder. Most of the rest of his features hidden by the rain and the wind.

"Secrecy is all I know, now, Mohinder. Thanks to you and the government." Peter's words come out in a gruff tone, "So they know I'm still alive?" A tone that isn't indicative of trust, let alone compliance, "You have five minutes, Mohinder." Peter makes no attempt to be seen, lingering around the bench, listening to the patter of the falling rain around him as well as Dr. Suresh's voice. The conversation over by Trask could barely be heard, just that people were talking, more so than what was being said. Peter tries not to pay attention to it, but there is a nervousness in him about the entire scenario.

The woman's eyes go wide. In such poor light, it's impossible to tell what colour they are, but a shade somewhere between gray and blue is probably a safe bet. "You don't know what the Linderman Act is?" she asks, incredulous. "Are you serious? You're not just yanking my chain?"

"Members of an upper echelon know that you're still alive," Mohinder clarifies, "your mother included." He turns his head to the side as if trying to find Peter in his peripheral vision. No such luck. "I know that it's difficult for someone like you to understand, but what the government does — what your brother does — is a necessary evil. We have only the best interests at heart, but that isn't what I wanted to speak with you about." He lets out a slow breath, steadying himself for what he's about to say next. The geneticist has undoubtedly gone over it a dozen different times in his head since sitting down at the bench, but that doesn't make it any easier when it comes time to speak.

"You weren't the only one who survived the explosion, Peter. Sylar, too, is alive."

Trask says, "No, no idea, sorry…like I said I have been a little out of it finding fod the last few years. I have some rat jerky though if you are hungry?" He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a piece of what appears to be beef jerky, but has no wrapper on it, "You hungry miss?""

The distant sound of thunder grows steadily closer as Mohinder talks, not out of the normal weather front, but out of the uncontrolled emotional response that Peter begins to experience. At first it is distrust and anger, then betrayal — his own mother. Mention of Nathan draws Peter into a morass of confusing feelings, all represented by the growing speed of the wind that carries through the park. Peter tenses, his hands clenching tightly into fists, but that wasn't even the worst of it.

The moment the name Sylar is spoken, there is an immediate flash of lightning strikes down on the roof of the tower on the far end of the castle. A shower of sparks rain down from the lightning rod atop it, followed by the loud crack of thunder. "You're lying," Peter doesn't want to believe it, he can't believe it, "There's no way Sylar could have survived, that's impossible." Denial is the easiest way.

"Rat jerky?" The woman's eyebrows shoot up so high than they disappear beneath her jagged bangs. "Buddy, you've got to be yanking my chain." But in case he's not… "Look, if you need a place to get out of the rain, I know a really slick shelter down in Chelsea. Meanest chicken noodle soup in the city." She's about to reach out and take Trask's hand when the lightning strikes, taking her by surprise and causing her to whirl toward it, one hand clapped over her mouth to muffle her scream.

"I've wrestled with my conscience for weeks," Mohinder explains, his voice shakier than it was a few moments ago, "unsure of who I should tell, or of what I should tell them. The Company is keeping him in a secure holding facility here in New York along with several other individuals that I helped Homeland Security classify as extremely dangerous." He uses his index finger to pushes his glasses several inches higher up the bridge of his nose. "I argued with them for months about what should be done with him, that he needed to be put down, but in the end — they did not share my point of view. I came to you because Sylar needs to be destroyed, and you are the only one who I know is capable of doing it."

"He's here in the city!?" Peter raises his voice again, the wind gusting up and howling as it whips through the columns of the pavillion. Taking a moment to breathe in deeply, Peter tries to calm himself, the winds slowly dying down as he does, but the rain begins to fall harder now than before. Peter is quiet, for a long while, trying to calm himself and steady that sea of emotions that is churning inside of him.

"Alright." Peter strains through his teeth, "Where is the facility? I need something to go on…" Peter thinks for a moment, back to his meeting with Hana, then focuses back on the topic at hand. "Whatever else you can spare, Mohinder, let me know. If this is true, and you're taking as much of a risk to prove this, then we shouldn't be out here much longer."

Trask moves to catch the woman, if she looks like she is going to fall. "You know it is awfully bad weather out here miss, You should consider heading home. Nothing is worth your life" He is keeping up the Russian accent, as he speaks.

"Holy shit, did you see that?" The woman must be some kind of adrenaline junkie, because she immediately spins back to face Trask, her face practically glowing with excitement as she falls, giddy, into his arms. "Are you kidding me, man? Stuff like this only happens once in a lifetime! Damn, I wish I had my camera."

"No," Mohinder agrees with Peter, "we shouldn't. The facility is housed beneath the old Primatech Research building in the Bronx, but I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that." Shaking his head, he moves to begin gathering his thermos and his bag. "While I said before that secrecy is of the utmost importance — it may not be wise to attempt this alone. Whatever social circles you travel these days…" He trails off, the look in his eyes growing strangely distant. "If you don't have friends, I suggest you make some."

Trask blinks and shakes his head, as the girl just seems happy. He sighs to himself, eyes still on Mohinder, but with the rain, and the storm, and the girl, he can't make out anything being said. He tries to look around again, to see if anyone is moving in, if anyone is nearby, if Peter is in any danger. "Look dah-lin I know your just doin your civic duty, but I think you should git under cover, there are strange people out in the night. People yah would'n wanna meet in the dark."

"Most of my friends are on the run from you and my brother." Peter's tone becomes scathing again, "Or dead." There is a long time of silence as Peter begins walking away from Mohinder, "But I don't need to give you guilt, Mohinder. I'm sure you have more than enough of your own." With that, Peter begins resumes back towards Sergei before the storm gets any worse.

"I'm a big girl," the woman assures Trask, gently pushing away from him, "I can take care of myself. Here." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out what looks like a tattered paper receipt from a 7-11, turns it over and scribbles an address on the back with her pen. "Take my advice and lose the rat jerky. I wasn't kidding about that soup. My name's Sarah, by the way." Just as before, Trask detects no sign of trouble brewing on the horizon — unless he counts the oncoming storm.

Mohinder says nothing as Peter retreats, probably because he doesn't have anything left to say. Wordlessly, he pulls his bag over his shoulder, places his thermos inside it and turns away.

Trask looks at the girl, maybe he was going to say something, maybe he wasn't the winter clothes he wears hide his true feelings like his identity, "Danke Miss Zarah," is all he says as he takes the piece of paper without looking at it, putting it in his pocket with his gloved hand. He sees Mohinder moving away, and senses the form of Peter walking toward them in the rain. "Have a nice night" he turns to go as well, with a tip of his hat at the young woman.

Circling around where his backup is, Peter makes a point to fade back from his invisibility before he gets too close. He nods in Sergei's direction, then notices the girl. Arching one brow, Peter momentarily breaks that frustrated and angry expression, his head canting to the side. He doesn't say anything as he glances at the young woman, seeming to assume her as harmless. Trying not to give away too much, Peter rolls one shoulder and takes a step away, with people watching he has little choice in his departure, walking out across the open grounds with his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. No sense in letting the girl make associations, and Sergei would understand what to do. For now, they were done… next comes the hard part.

September 9th: Maybe In That Order

Previously in this storyline…
A Meeting Crashed

Next in this storyline…
Muffins Make it Better

September 9th: A Cause For Revenge
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