Negotiations - String Theory: Aftermath

Negotiations

Log Archive » Logs for January 2009 » Negotiations

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Scene Title	Negotiations
Synopsis	Agent Carmichael of Homeland Security, and Roger Goodman of other associations meet at Biomere Research to discuss the targets captured two days ago.
Date	January 30, 2009

Biomere Research Inc., Roger Goodman's Office

"I've run background checks on the ones we've found." Seated in a low-backed leather chair with polished chrome framework, Jonathan Carmichael relaxes for the first time in what feels like ages. Tired hands move to settle on the metal arms of the chair, the leather creaking as his back presses into it.

"Good, good." By the picture windows overlooking Morningside Heights from thirty stories up, a tall and thin man stands with his hands folded behind his back, the dark of his suit just a few shades deeper than his skin, eyes peering out distantly over the snow covered city. "Why don't we share information, then?" His eyes track to a reflection in the window, to Carmichael.

Nodding, a few absent bobbing motions of his head, Jonathan leans forward and reaches for a thick folder on the desk in front of him, picking it up to leaf through, looking at the first file, which contained a paperclipped photograph of a young woman with long blonde hair and light eyes. "First one we have here, is Helena Dean," Carmichael's eyes track up to Goodman's motionless silhouette, a black line against the white beyond the window.

"Miss Dean." Goodman says with brows raising, turning at the waist, regarding Carmichael over his shoulder. It's a name he recognizes, "Continue."

"We picked her up at the Verrazano-Narrows bridge, in that — " His brows press together, " — Whatever was happening there." It's not his to question, to think about the why, only the what. "Dean is being restrained in a holding facility on Manhattan, what do you want me to do with her?"

Goodman purses his lips at the question — it's a good one. "I think, for the time being…" His eyes divert back to the window, overlooking the city as he wrings one hand over the other behind his back, "We'll let this play out and see where it gets us. Recommend Dean be transferred the the Utah holding facility, we'll see how that stacks our deck."

"With Petrelli?" That much causes Carmichael to look up from the file, he knows when Roger is playing a game, and this is a good one. "Sir, with all due respect, don't you think that might not be wise? I read his Company dossier, there was — " He pages thorugh the thick folder, pulling out a sheet of paper, "Claudine Salonga — what little bits she was able to pluck out of Petrelli's mind before he regained his abilities, they all mostly dealt with that Dean girl." He shakes his head, looking up from the file to Roger, "If she's that important to him, that he'd have even repressed memories of her in the condition — "

"Let's move on, Jon." Level in his tone, Roger dismisses Jonathan's concern, and it's with a resigned sigh that he tucks Helena's file beneath the others. There'll be time yet for further argument. "Jesse Alexander Knight, Registered Evolved, Tier 2, Telekinetic. Former NYPD," There's a bit of a clench in Carmichael's jaw as he reviews the file again, "Served in Iraq in 2003, decorated service career." The're not so different, Carmichael just chose a different side of the conflict, a casualty of war. "He's one of the two we apprehended in New Jersey."

"Do with him as you wish." Is Roger's quiet response, disinterested in the reluctant tone that Carmichael put on, and giving the agent a bit of his own way — without so much as an argument — can only help him in later ones.

"Right, ah…" Thumbing through the folder, Jonathan comes to the next of the captured subjects. "We had two unidentified subjects escape custody on the flight from the Verrazano-Narrows," He pauses at a document filed on a helicopter crash, "Five agents were killed, and the bodies of both of the captured targets. We don't have much to go on with them, just what you read in the incident report."

"Inconsequential, they'll re-emerge." Goodman finally moves away from the window, head tilted to the side as he regards Carmichael like a larger animal studying a smaller one. "Any further?" Making his way over to his desk, Roger Goodman moves like a serpent, with a graceful and slithering gait, coming to stand behind his chair, one hand on the rich brown leather.

"Brian Fulk." The name gets Goodman's attention, one brow raising slowly as he watches Carmichael sift through the files. "He was picked up with Knight, according to his blood test he's an unregistered Evolved, like Dean. Did your people want to take him in for testing?"

Goodman purses his lips in thought, wringing his hands behind his back once more with a slow nod of his head, "Fulk…" Eyes wander his desk, dark and empty, "Fulk is a special case." When he looks back up to Carmichael, it is more intent, demeanor shifting merely from business to something more personal. "Yes, arrange for him to be transported to the Bronx facility immediately, I want him down on Level Five for full evaluation."

"Level Five?" That brings a raise of Carmichael's brow, but a lowering of his voice, his expression matching the intrigue of Goodman. "I won't be able to access him there, only Agent Park— "

"I am aware." The steely reassurance that he has not forgotten that detail slips through Roger Goodman's teeth like a poisonous gas, matched by the steely countenance be bares to his business partner. "Fulk's transport is to be prioritized, I want his paperwork to disappear. Transfer all of your information on him over to me, and do not report his apprehension to Agent Parkman. Brian Fulk is now property of the Company."

This isn't the first time Carmichael has been asked to falsify documents and change his reports, he and Roger go back, they have a history and they have an agreement. There's a slow, deliberate nod that doubles as a bow of acceptance, admitting defeat in an unspoken argument. Goodman let him have Knight, and he will allow goodman to have Fulk. It's how it goes.

"That's all we have so far." Slipping out of the tension, Jonathan rises from his chair, closing the folder to lay on Roger's desk. "We have every major road leaving the city marked with a checkpoint, and it will only be a matter of time before the ones that got away from us at the Narrows slip up, and draw attention to themselves." With an incline of his head, Carmichael looks up to Roger, watching how he stares down at the file folder, at Brian Fulk's picture.

"Is…" He hesitates asking out of turn, "Is there something about this Fulk that I should be aware of?" The question only draws Goodman's eyes away from the photograph, a long and hollow stare given to Carmichael with an expressionless visage. The response he gives is slow to come, and as cold as the city outside.

"No, Agent Carmichael. That is all."