Participants:
| Scene Title | No Such Obligation |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Len Denton wants permission to take out Teodoro Laudani. Sabra, meanwhile, doesn't exactly hand it over but does split hairs with an eye to semantics. Comes with her job. |
| Date | November 9, 2009 |
Fort Hero: Sabra's Office
Sabra's office is one of those places that doesn't really change much; not once she's settled in and made it her own. So it's an ever-familiar sight to anyone who happens by the partly-open door, not that very many do; casual passers-by and the administrative wing of Fort Hero are just about mutually exclusive.
The woman herself is half-hidden by computer and paperwork, as is also a common case; even in the age of digital information, the Company runs on hardcopy. Skimming over a set of reports, it's easy for even Sabra to not notice the passage of time; she has an aide to keep track of such things, after all. Which may have something to do with why Ashton walks up to the desk and gently relieves Sabra of the folder in question, giving her a pointed look.
It's been a few days since certain potential revelations have come to light. Perhaps the correct term should be allegations, since Len has only heard one side of the story. At least when he spoke in hypotheticals to Tamsine last night after the memorial. He played a game of 'let's pretend…' leaving out names to protect the not-so-innocent, but he laid down the scenario as best that he possibly could. And of course, in the end, the redbead was the voice of reason for him as she told him not to take the word of a killer, but find out the other side of the story.
Not to say he hasn't attempted to do so, however, schedules and conflicts have made this day the first day they could meet as he walks up to her office and and is immediately recognized by the receptionist, who pushes a button and announces Len's arrival. He's left his ballcap in the office and even tucked in his T-shirt into his jeans, but make no matter, even if only wearing t-shirt and jeans, Len can make it look good. Maybe not professional, but good. At least it's not the t-shirt that pretends to be a tuxedo.
Len leans up against the receptionist's desk as he waits to be let in to see 'the boss', his demeanor far more cheerful than it was just a few days ago.
Sabra relinquishes the documents to Ashton; as the aide moves away, she catches sight of Len in the doorway. "Agent Denton," the woman greets, gesturing him into the room, to one of the chairs opposite her. "Please, come in, have a seat." There's a shuffling of papers as Sabra sorts works-in-progress to corners of the desk less likely to offer distraction; not that she would be distracted in any event, but it is a courtesy of sorts. "Would you care for some tea while we speak? Or perhaps coffee?" Not for very many people does the elderly lady relent and offer that beverage.
Len has already had five cups, which may be the cause for him being already ramped up and eager to get this over with. Of course, it may just take five cups to get a man his size going on a Monday morning. He dismisses the offer of a beverage as he slinks down into the seat that he's been directed to. "I'm afraid I've hit the ground running this morning, ma'am, so I don't plan to take up too much of your time this morning, unless you have something for me. That being said, I'd like permission to get right to the heart of the matter, if that's alright with you?" He's been working on his Southern drawl, or perhaps the correct phrasing should be, the removal of his Southern drawl, but it's definitely in the forefront this morning. "Not that I take my stock in rumor and gossip, but the word on the street says that you gave accused murderer Teo Laudani a 'Stay out of Jail' free card. So before I spend any additional energies tracking down that son of a bitch, I'd like to make sure I'm not stepping on anyone's toes."
Sabra inclines her head, silent permission for Len to go ahead and speak his business. She folds her hands atop the desk's polished surface as he does so, Ashton silently bringing a cup of tea to its designated place at her elbow. The aide returns to his role as unobtrusive shadow — and Sabra smiles, her expression genially amused. "That would be a truly expensive card," she remarks.
The woman turns away enough to pick up her cup of tea, inserting a break into the conversation. After taking a sip, she regards Len across the desk. "I did prevent Laudani from turning himself in for a particular set of crimes. But am I protecting him? Not in the slightest."
There. Too easy. That's not a smirk on the face of the cowboy. Not in the slightest. Liz Harrison bought Teo's brand of manure lock, stock and barrel. Len joins his hands together, interlocking his fingers as he nods. "So, you don't mind if I rustle him up for the murder of Minea Dahl. As I said, there's some crazy talk about the fact that he's going to be useful, for something. If he were to disappear, I would hate to think that I'm interfering in someone else's agenda." This is all said in seriousness, as he knows that this organizations has agendas to spare, tucked away inside filing cabinets and computer files.
The cup is set back down on its saucer with a soft clink. "I admit that I would be — disappointed," Sabra replies equably. "Laudani does now have a potential that could benefit this organization. But he is not bound to us in any way; while I have… opened the door, as it were, and at some cost, there is no obligation between us."
Sabra curls her fingers around the sides of the cup, regarding Len steadily. "I understand your obligations, Len. In my position, I cannot afford to share them, not for the dead, but unless and until I have a contract with Laudani's name on it— " which is to say, some sort of formal arrangement to the Company's benefit, and not just the possibility for one "— I will not stand in your way."
Len's hands rub on his jeans several times, then stands up. "Well, I certainly won't take up any more of your time. Like you said, I have obligations. I appreciate you hearing me out and giving me your thoughts. I'll certainly take them under advisement during the course of my investigation. You enjoy the rest of your day, ma'am."
The elderly woman hides her smile quite successfully until after Agent Denton has left the room; when it finally comes to light, the expression is genial in its fashion, and rueful at the same time. The thoughts that shape it, however, are hidden entirely, left unvoiced. She takes another sip from the teacup, blue gaze lifting as Ashton steps into her field of view.
Setting the cup on the saucer once more, Sabra Dalton lifts her hands, fingers flickering through a fluid series of gestures. Ask Ivan for a status report, if you would. And check on Bishop's arrangements; if we have to call in more favors, I'd like to know soonest.
Ashton inclines his head and departs the room, leaving the lady to resume her business in solitude.
