Participants:
| Scene Title | Logistics |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Meg and Alistair chat about the logistics of vaccines. |
| Date | Nov 21, 2009 |
A wrought-iron fence borders several small garden beds and the stone stairs leading up to the house's front door. The house itself is a structure of old stone - not even concrete blocks, but quarried stone — with natural-color wood doors and window frames. The windows on the ground floor are barred.
Inside, the level is divided into only three rooms. The first is the foyer, with polished hardwood flooring, a freestanding coatrack on either side, iron-dark against soft-amber interior walls. The main staircase spirals up from one corner of the foyer, girded by a wrought-iron railing.
To the right from the entrance is the kitchen. The walls just off from white, the floor tiled in dark gray. In the center of the kitchen is a black-topped island, matching the counters that line the room. One wall is dominated by an eminently modern stove framed by an anachronistic brick hearth. Cabinets above the counters have glass doors; the windows above the sink are framed in light-colored curtains, the illumination they let in adding to the expansive atmosphere.
"No, Kaylee — look, I'll be out there in a couple of hours. I'm working on the manifest for where to send them. I've got two safe houses heavy on the kids, and they need to get priority for those doses. And I've got one group getting ready to make travel arrangments that is going to need them too. Just give me the couple of hours to finish up a master list here, okay? …. Yeah…. Yeah, two hours. See you then."
The tall redhead standing in the Hangar's conference room hangs up her cell phone and puts the back of her hand to her forehead with her other hand on her hip. She looks a bit weary, as if last night was probably a long night. Her hair's caught up in a French braid that falls to the middle of her back to keep it out of her way and she wears a pair of comfortable jeans and a deep green long-sleeved blouse with a pair of hiking boots as she stares at the paperwork on the table. "I need twelve extra hours in the day or I need to quit my day job," Megan grouses mildly to the room at large, not realizing that someone's stopped in the doorway behind her.
Alistair smirks, leaning up against the doorway with a cup of coffee. "Well, that's why I work from home." He says, as he offers the cup to the frazzled woman. He's wearing a blue flannel shirt, opened, with a grey t-shirt underneath, and blue jeans. "What're you working on?" He has an idea, but he'll let the woman explain it from her point of view.
Turning to see him in the doorway, Megan grins. "Hey there." The gratitude in her expression is probably worth the fact that he's giving up the coffee in his hands. "I could kiss you," she quips mildly as she walks to him and takes the steaming beverage. "Just pulling together the priority list for the vaccines. I oughtta just stick this in your hands — you're the logistics god," she says with a smirk. But then again, Megan's never been one to leave a job in someone else's hands. And she's starting to take a bigger role lately, rather than just being on-call for the Ferry. "When does the next travel group go out after the one that's in staging now? If I have a couple days, I can shuffle it just a bit more," she says after sipping carefully from the cup.
Alistair takes a moment to think, as if refering to some imaginary itinerary in his head. "We've got about a week. Things have been getting a bit hot lately, so we have to take it slow. Plus we want to make sure that we vaccinate the ones that need it before we send them out, since they won't be able to get their hands on any once they're on their own." He reaches from behind the door and grabs his own cup. He shrugs and smirks.. "Not so much a god.. I just have a thing for organization. This is important. I'm glad to have the help." He peeks over at the list on the table, getting a quick idea as to what's necessary. "Who do we have working triage? Do we have enough people at each House qualified to do so?" At the mention of gratitude, he blushes slightly.. "We can discuss that later." he says, slyly.
"A week?" Meg sounds pleased at that news and she walks with him back to the table to take a look. "That actually gives me a good deal of wiggle room. Excellent. Gray and Nancy are working the staging area, last I checked. They're good. And we've got a couple of roaming paramedics. I'm heading over to Kaylee's location shortly to check on the meds, and I want to check on the scarlet fever kids, make sure they've got the antibiotics they need. We never quite have enough people, but especially now the med personnel are a bit stretched. We'll manage. I took a couple days off at the Center to help handle the outbreak and now the vaccines." She merely gives him a cheeky grin at his 'talk about that later' riposte. Megan's only very recently seemed to have climbed out of the well of sadness that she was burying with this work.
Alistair nods. "I can see if we can divert some more people to help. They won't be med certified, but they can at least hold a tray or something." He looks atthe maps and numbers and stats, letting it set in like the landscape of a painting, it all making sense to him. "So it looks like we're good then." He stops to look at the woman.. "And what about you? When was the last time you've had any rest? We can't afford to have your immune system weakened by being tired." he says, trying to care without over-stepping personal boundaries, and coming off awkward.
There's a soft laugh. "We're good. We've got enough tray holders. I need enough people who can actually give the injections. Abigail's turning out to have a real flair for EMT work. I'd like to see her take a nursing course, actually," Megan says mildly, sipping the coffee. And then she looks surprised at his query. "I'm…. doing okay, Alistair. Last night was rough — one of the kids with the fever spiked up and I thought we were going to lose her, but she pulled through. I think she'll make it. I'll catch a nap this afternoon." She sips the coffee in her hand and then sets the cup down. "You heard they picked up the bastard who hit the Beach Street safehouse, right?" She caught it through the grapevine not too long ago, so she figures he's heard that Danko was arrested.
Alistair nods. "Yeah.. The trial was a big deal, from what I hear. I try to stay away from those things… They have a tendency to turn into something out of the old Roman Arenas. I've got an issue with holding a man's life in my hands…not in this way." He nods. "Unfortunately I can't help with keeping people sick. You can grab a cot here if you want. I need to go check on a few things, then I'll be back." he says, finishing his coffee. "Feel free to grab another cup. The pot's fresh."
"The trial was a farce, and if it had gone any other way than turning him in to the cops, I'd be gone," Megan says bluntly. "We are not judge, jury, and executioner. We are the underground railroad. That was bullshit." She looks at Alistair. Like him, she's been a soldier. Hell, in most ways she still is. But she's entirely firm on that point. "You can't tell me that you even remotely agree with the fact that we even had that farce of a trial?"
Alistair shakes his head. "No. We don't have the authority to try anyone for anything. I think that was just a show.. A way to carry his head on a stick through the village without being just *that* brutal. Like I said.. I wanted nothing to do with it. I feel for the Beach Street people. I feel for all of our lost people, but parading him around all trussed up like that isn't going to prove anything." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "So, how are the other Houses? I spend most of my time cooped up in here, so i don't exactly know what's going on at ground level. The only time I hear word is when they need something."
Megan was at Beach Street that night. More soldier than nurse, definitely. But she nods to his take on the matter and at least seems to be grateful that they are on the same page. Taking a deep breath and looking around the conference room, Megan comments quietly, "They're… doing all right. Kaylee's got about a dozen kids in the Staten safehouse, most of whom are getting past the contagious stage. We'll be working on reuniting them with their parents in the other safehouses within the next several days, most of them. The rest of what I'm seeing out there is just your basic head colds. The flu is starting to pick up, but so far because the people we're dealing with are sequestered anyway, we're having fewer issues than most. The group staging to leave is about twenty strong, if I remember right. And everyone seems pretty secure at the moment." She grins a little. "You should get out of your ivory tower once in a while, Alistair. It would do you good to get your feet a little muddy sometimes."
Alistair smirks. "I get my feet plenty muddy when I need to. It's just easier to coordinate from a central location." He nods at the woman's assessment.. "So, other then this outbreak, its your typical winter in NYC." He looks around.. "Do you need a refill or anything?"
She glances down at her coffee, which she's been steadily drinking since he handed it to her except for the one time she set it down, and then Megan smiles. "Nah. Thanks, though. You got anything you want couriered out to Staten since I'm going?" she asks. She's always seemed pretty much at ease with everyone, though quieter lately.
Alistair shakes his head. "No. We seem to be good at the moment." He takes a moment to think, making sure.. "Nope, that seems to be it. Well, take care, and if anything pops up, let us know. I'll see what I can do to make this easier on you."
Megan shrugs and grins. "I'll be fine in a couple days, when I don't have a dozen kids down with scarlet fever and a buncha vaccines that I don't want to know the source of on my hands to distribute," she admits on a laugh. "See you in a few days, Alistair." She scoops up her list of prioritized houses for vaccine distribution and heads for the door. "Be good, willya?"
Alistair nods. "Always am. You too." He says with a smile as he walks her to the door, checking the outside.