Keeping Her Own Counsel


cardinal_icon.gif elisabeth2_icon.gif

Scene Title Keeping Her Own Counsel
Synopsis With the Carmichael raid imminent and tomorrow looking to be a Bad Day <tm>, Elisabeth gives just a little information without mentioning the things she knows of what's supposed to come.
Date Nov 7, 2010

Redbird Security Solutions, Basement

Richard Cardinal crosses the basement with a solid thump of every step, the weight of Horizon armour adding weight to his pacing as he stops in front of the string web, staring at it for a long and pensive moment. He's not wearing his helmet, that sitting on the table, but the rest of him is all suited up already. There's several crates and boxes piled up in the corner of the room, supplies in case of siege or other emergency, and one corner's been cleared away to serve as a medical area if needed, a gurney acquired from somewhere next to the first aid boxes.

She packed hers but Elisabeth is not wearing it. The duffel bag is hefted over her shoulder. She was given the go-ahead by her own boss — though to be fair, Liz didn't mention she was bringing the armor with her when she went. It's the lighter version, sans the exoskeleton, but it does in fact also contain her specialized helmet. As she lets herself into the basement, she drops the duffel near the wall, her blue eyes zeroing in on her lover with a pensive expression.

"Sarisa said to take his fucking ass out with extreme prejudice," she comments mildly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her black BDU pants. The long-sleeved black T-shirt has its sleeves pulled to her elbows as she studies the man pacing the room.

"I'm planning on it." A smile crooks up at the corner of Richard's lips as he hears the voice from behind him, turning fully to regard her, shadows dark beneath his eyes and his usual complexion a shade or two paler than usual. He's not looking very good, but he's awake and mobile. Probably energy drinks or no-doz. "After we let Matt rip his skull open and dig out every dirty secret he can." A pause, "Try not to mention the murder part to Matt. I think he still hopes to bring him in alive."

Elisabeth herself is looking… weary. The lines in her face give away sadness and hurt. She simply nods slightly, walking forward. "I won't." Matt Parkman can believe what he wants. She stops in front of him and looks up, her eyes searching his face. Her hand comes out of her pocket and wordlessly she cradles his cheek, simply leaning forward to press her forehead lightly to his chin. She lets out a long, soft sigh and remains silent, drawing comfort in the contact. And then she says quietly, "Tell me what we've got." Because the details on this op weren't going to be relayed on the phone, obviously.

As she steps forward, Cardinal steps to meet her, one gloved hand raising to rest against her shoulder and his head tilting down to press a kiss against her forehead. "…are you okay?" A quiet murmur, breath stirring against her hair, "You're not looking that hot."

"Pot, this is kettle calling — you look like hell. You have such a way with women," Elisabeth retorts with a good-natured tone. She pulls away a bit to look up. "Adele Sanderson and Juliette Wright bought it the other day. So… not doing as well as I'd like," Elisabeth admits softly. "And I'm out for a bit of payback, so I'm not exactly looking to hold back tonight. So it's good that you intend it to be bloody. I don't have to feel guilty if I shoot someone or otherwise create liquid organs or something."

"I guess we'll never have that dinner with Sanderson we were talking about." A whispered sigh spills from Cardinal's lips, his head falling back as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment, then back down to her, "I haven't been able to get in touch with anyone from Messiah. I don't know what sort've casualties they took. If we can, I'd like to get information out've Rupert before we kill him, though."

Elisabeth simply nods. "Take what you can from him. Just make sure he's never a threat again." She smiles grimly. "And just in case I forget… we do have Elle under lock and key at the moment, right?"

"Elle?" Cardinal's brows lift a little, "I'm bringing her with us… why, is there a reason to lock her up?" He tilts his head a little, frowning, "What's she done now?"

"Nothing right now…. and perhaps nothing at all," Liz murmurs quietly. "Since she seems to no longer want to kill Noah Bennet, I'd say it's probably a non-issue. But do me a favor and keep her real fuckin' close tomorrow." With a long, slow breath, Liz comments quietly, "I got a warning. That Elle Bishop was planning on killing Noah Bennet in Brooklyn on the 8th, and that her actions would be the catalyst for a great many bad things. It came the other day, and I'm of the mindset to mostly think that we've changed enough things that the warning is simply a matter of your alternate self not knowing what's stayed the same in this timeline. But it's not a bad warning to heed, either, considering Elle's propensity to continually find and immerse herself in trouble," she says drily.

"She doesn't have any intent of doing that, no… but I'll keep track of her," Cardinal admits with a slight, tired nod, "We've got a lot to keep track of tomorrow, though, and we've still got shit to do today… let's just hope all our preparations've accomplished something. We'll have to lock Claire up, too, you realize."

Yeah. Claire. Elisabeth nods slowly. "You know that I won't be able to help tomorrow. The whole fucking place is going to be a madhouse," she says regretfully. "Put Monica and Niki on keeping tabs on those two, maybe? Or… even Aric. Have him hole up here with both of them and keep them from leaving or listening to the news for any reason?" Elisabeth bites her lower lip and then says quietly, "We're not losing our people. Not tonight, and not tomorrow. The things people saw? Peyton, you. They're not going to happen the way you saw them." Her tone holds a hint of something — perhaps fear? Perhaps a need to reassure him. She doesn't know how else to do it. "We're going to make it through tomorrow, lover."

"I know." Cardinal looks down to her, something haunted stirring behind his eyes, "Just… promise me one thing, lover? Don't take your helmet off tomorrow, not until it's all over." He's not going to do it… but the future has inertia.

"I won't," Elisabeth promises. Usually she's far more cavalier about his concerns, but this time her blue eyes are solemn. "I swear," she whispers, her thumb stroking his cheek. Come hell or high water, she'll make it work with that helmet on — not because she thinks he'll give that order. But some things happen because they have to. She drops her hand and smiles a bit. "I brought my gear — the uniform may throw some confusion into the works, too."

"Good." A solemn murmur of words, and Cardinal watches her for a moment. Then the edge of a grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth, noting, "When he sees a couple suits of Horizon armor crash into his room, he won't know what's what… and then we can have the telepaths 'persuade' any witnesses that the numbers they saw on the suits belonged to unit zero. Might drive a wedge between Mitchell and the Institute."

There's a dark bit of amusement in her expression as Elisabeth retorts softly, "I guess we'll see. Considering the insane version of you is running the goddamn thing, once this immediate issue is handled, we need to … think long and hard about what tack to take with all this. But that's for another day. There's too much going on in the next few days. Right now we just need to try and keep our own heads attached, yeah?"

"Try not to spread that bit around, too, eh?" A wry note, forced humor, Cardinal's head shaking slowly, "Yeah. We're committed, now… we're just gonna have to see where we end up."

"Oh, believe me, love… I'm telling no one. Quite frankly, I think that bit of knowledge is far more dangerous than anything else out there." Elisabeth leans up to kiss him softly. "It's almost time. I better get geared up." She smiles at him a bit and quips gently, "I even brought my helmet." She winks, and then moves to slip away to get into her uniform.

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