Jus Ad Bellum


fedor_icon.gif sarisa_icon.gif

Scene Title Jus Ad Bellum
Synopsis Jus Ad Bellum, Justice to War. It is a term that will become so much more appropriate as time passes, and the ramifications of Fedor's backdoor deal with the United States Government comes to light.
Date May 28, 2009

Chicago Air Offices, New Jersey

Its rare to find Fedor, no-no wait he's Petter Kobrin. Anyway its rare to find Chicago Air's chief pilot in his office, so rare that only Jake and his secretary has actually been in his office when he's actually in it. From the reception desk to the Chief Pilot's office there are eight security doors, four levels and a very long hallway that leads to a crow's nest over the hangar. Its backed with thick glass to give a unspoiled view of the hangar below. The walls are covered with the family photos, the families of his employees not his own. Ground crew, pilots. There's a big desk, the sort you could hide behind (and he does when people come looking for him usually).

The only suit in the entire building, is worn by Fedor at the moment. He peers up from his big leather chair, in just a vest, dress shirt and slacks for the moment. Shoes and jacket, having been set by the door. "Good morning."He offers, lifting a hand to adjust those thick buddy holly glasses and finally rising to offer his hand. "I'm Petter Kobrin, Chicago Air's chief pilot."

The woman who comes in is almost exactly what Fedor was expecting. Tall, bordering on masculine, with a strong jaw and dyed blonde hair with dark roots that compliments unusually light blue eyes. Her suit is this muted shade of charcoal with lighter gray pinstriping, hee's that click on the tile floor as she clears the distance from the door to his desk, one hand outstretched and a manicured brow raised. She looks somewhere between a woman who could take a punch, and a woman who sits all day behind a desk — it's something of a confusing juxtaposition of traits.

"Mister Korbin," she states with a nod of her head, "My name is Sarisa Kershner," no department or title, "I've come down to speak to you on behalf of the conversation you had with William Stephenson yesterday?" Her tone is all business, laced with that impersonal pliteness that is so common of business professionals in this day and age. Just from watching the way she walks and the way she steadies herself on offering the handshake, there's an unmistakable swagger of military confidence behind her steps.

Military isn't quite what Fedor sees though, NSA, CIA, DIA — but hey thats okay, right? "So kind of you to come. Please have a seat, can I get you some coffee?"Still he plays the game. He displays every minute bit of body language he's supposed to, the lie that he's happy to see her is delivered with skill and experience befitting a man of his age and experience. "So, whats the good word?"

Sarisa looks down to the untaken hand, rolling her forefingers and thumb together and then lowers the hand away entirely with one raised brow. "Your request was," her head tilts in the direction of the chair opposite of his desk, asking silent permission to be seated before folding down to sit, one leg crossing over the other as she folds one hand on a knee, "denied, of course." There's a hesitant quirk of one brow, "Black, actually. If you wouldn't mind, I haven't had a cup yet, and today's looking to be a long day."

Managing another feigned smile, Sarisa leans back into the chair and looks out the plate glass windows to the hangar beyond, a distant quality to her eyes. "I have to say, right now the federal government isn't looking as fondly on groups operating with standards similar to most PMCs, especially given how much of a colossal blunder the Blackwater situation turned out to be in the long run. Most people tend to forget we're still fighting a wars outside of our own borders, with everything going on." Reaching up to thread an errand lock of hair behind one ear, Sarisa turns her focus from the window to Fedor.

"However, what is put down officially on paper and what the government issues permission to do is not always as cut and dry as it seems." Lips pursing together, Sarisa exhales a slow sigh and glances back to the windows, "We're willing to make a few concessions to your request, provided that a few ground rules are laid in place."

"I'll listen, and when we have a common understanding of these ground rules I have another offer I think your superiors will be happy to hear."Fedor's indeed, all ears. Good news, turns a liar's smile into a genuine one. He doesn't care who brings him good news, when its good news.

One dark brow rises at the prospect of an additional offer, and Sarisa nods her head slowly. "The government is willing to allow you to perform the operations detailed to us in your request within the geographical boundaries of Staten Island — no close than one mile to any government checkpoint," meaning the singular bridge crossing from Staten Island to New Jersey, "and will not interfere in your attempts to bring a form of law and order to the island. This cooperation will only extend to the physical boundaries of the island, and not the waters surrounding it, and no one in our agency save for myself and Mister Stephenson will be aware of this arrangement, which means the Coast Guard will not be complient with anything outside of legal application you may attempt to do, and our hands will be tied in regards to responding to it."

Shifting in her chair, Sarisa glances around for the offered coffee that doesn't seem to be any sooner in coming. "Outside of these stipulations, we trust you to act in the better interests of the citizenry of Staten Island while pertaining to these operational procedures. You have a carte-blanche, as it were, in terms of what you do, but we would like it if you could keep the casualties on the island to a minimum, and try to do what you do as low-key as possible." Then, however, comes the clincher. "In the near future, there may be an organized attempt for formally reclaim Staten Island en-masse, which will be a military operation designed to rout out the criminal element entirely and restore law and order. We would hope that you will cooperate with us in this endeavor, and provided that you do when the time comes," there's a nod of her head, "certain real-estate that has been abandoned on the island may be able to be selectively titled over to your organization in a measure of good will."

"I accept your terms, I think they're very fair and I thank you for playing ball with me. In terms of minimizing casualties, I may require some assistance. We both know the current state of affairs with the international arms trade, and I would really prefer to utilize precision instruments here. I can get ten Mig-21s for a million dollars, and stuff them full of rocket pods but I dont think either of us wants that. "Fedor thumbs towards the wall, specifically an older gentleman with a particularly pale tone and a pair of daughters who might as well be models.

"I wont drop his name, but he used to work for Dyncorp. Heck I almost worked for Dyncorp, and I know that since their failure to produce a satisfactory result in Colombia and their failures over Afghanistan you guys have been cut off at the knees. I can give you pilots familar with soviet combat aircraft, who retain their top secret clearance. I have US nationals, Pollocks, Czechs and even a few Russkies and German air force officers from either side of the fence. I can give you access to their skillsets, for whatever direct action you people deem necessary. Unlike Dyncorp and Blackwater, we are an aviation company. We don't put boots on the ground, we operate out of wherever you want and pilot whatever you want us to."Fedor grins, rising to motion towards the glass.

"If you can provide me the hardware to make this clean, nothing fancy. Four Super Tucanos, support equipment and a full array of electronic countermeasures. They're prop aircraft, can wear whatever markings you want. Not threatening, and not distinctly American. Blackwater already has one, I know the CIA has four or five. Give them to me, and this can go far beyond a single instance of cooperation."Its a long way from Moscow, talking about clandestine dealings for brushfire wars with American officials. Thirty years ago, he'd have been trying to sleep with her.

The request comes with a marked level of puckering of Sarisa's lips, and likely a puckering that will be mirrored by the sphincters of her employers when she goes back over the details of the meeting on returning home. "You do realize that right now things aren't looking entirely favorable in the light of private military contractors of all stripes. The arrangement there, if we were to procure hardware for you, is similar to what was done in the nineties with DynCorp International. Admittedly we're not asking you to destroy something as simple a coca crops, we're talking about a bit more substantial risk of human lives, on American soil no less."

One hand comes up to rub at her cheek, and Sarisa exhales a slow breath. "We can conceivably supply the ECM and aviation hardware to you, but if we do that there will be an expectancy of further cooperation down the line, when the operation to reclaim Staten Island comes fully to bear. If you renege on this deal, there will be repercussions— but I figure you've already got that idea, given that you seemed pretty well prepared for my unannounced arrival."

"You built a company full of CIA agents, and then expected them to play at being pilots and produce satisfactory results. We're professional aviators, there is a marked difference I assure you. Chicago Air's relationship, is the profit we're seeking. When we have a problem, I would like to know I have friends."Fedor wanders back over. "If I didn't do any of this, at all Chicago Air would still be one of the fastest growing airlines in America. So if you come to me with a job we cant do, I'm not going to string you along and beg for money. I would rather develop a relationship of mutual cooperation, does that sound fair?"

"I'll fly lead ship myself, to ensure things are done correctly with minimal loss of civilian life. I'll continue my efforts to restore peace to the island, free of charge. I'll obey your stipulated rules of engagement, and when you finally roll in I'll play ball. In return I need material support from time to time, a generous donation of land on Staten and some political clout behind the scenes to keep things on the level."Fedor sniffles, betraying his tell as he eyes up his guest.

"I assume you are aware of Linderman's involvement on the island, that he's essentially running the island as it stands. I think that's entirely unacceptable behavior for a man in his position, and consider his actions nothing shy of treason. The Linderman act, this Frontline business. You and I both know its a power grab, one which threatens my business as much as it does your ability to operate without direct senatorial oversight. I also believe he supplied Humanis First with the missile that shot me down, to further create friction. I also believe he'll try and harm my business interests as well as the security of my employees."Well there it is, Fedor's admitting he has a fucking clue. "I may require protection, and in return of course I'll assure you I'll do my utmost to ensure that whomever it is your employers are have a friend in me."

"We're aware of Daniel Linderman's association son the island, and I assure you, not everyone on Capitol Hill is drinking the same kool-aid when it comes to him and the Petrelli administration." Sarisa rakes her fingers through her bangs, shifting in her seat, recrossing her legs. "However, you're pointing the finger in the wrong direction when it comes to Frontline. That entire operation is the brainchild of General Sebastian Autumn and Vice-President Mitchell. Petrelli was opposed to this whole deal up until it became politically advantageous for him to do so." Whoever she is, she seems quite versed in FRONTLINE's origins. "I assure you, Mister Kobrin, that Frontline is someone you'll want on your side, especially if Humanis First continues to become a problem in this area."

Looking down at her hands, Sarisa considers something, then looks back up to Fedor. "We'll supply the hardware you asked for. It might take a few weeks for it to make it your way, but you'll have it. If this continues to be a profitable arrangement for us both, then I can assure you we'll continue to be operating together for the betterment of the city."

Its a big deal in the intelligence community, there are few deals that are bigger in fact. To give someone a way to access you, 24/7 is rarely done. Just the same, Fedor produces a slip of paper which he slides across the desk. "I will change my mind about Frontline, when I see reason to do so but your words are duly noted. This is a user name, password and website address. Its a very private, very secure web we use with our employees. You can use this to log on, and leave me messages in an entirely clandestine matter. As for the Super Tucanos, tell me when they're coming and I'll pass along tail numbers which we'll reassign from some crashed aircraft. So when they arrive, there aren't any, fingerprints. Likewise, if I need to contact you I'll use this method."Fedor nods towards the glass. "Now, can I interest you in a charter? I can have a A-109 drop you anywhere in the city, my treat."

Taking the scrip of paper, Sarisa folds it into her hand and then rises up from her seat, looking down at what's written before sliding it into the pocket of her slacks. Eyeing the windows, a smile quirks up on her lips, one not entirely self-serving this time as she looks back to Fedor. "I think we have a deal, Mister Kobrin." This time Sarisa moves across the floor and around the desk, offering out her hand to shake the pilot's and seal the deal, this time making the contact. "I think a trip up would be a good way to see what we're quietly investing in. I'll tell you where we're headed once we're up in the air."

Fedor smirks, shaking firmly before nodding back yonder to the door. "Certainly, after you my dear. I'll never decline an excuse to get out of the office, especially when it involves dangerous toys."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License