No Translator Needed


gael2_icon.gif ryans2_icon.gif

Scene Title No Translator Needed
Synopsis Ryans gets Gael back up to date on what has been going on and recruits him to Rebel's mission.
Date October 06, 2010

Gun Hill: Rooftop

There isn't a whole lot of places to store the amount of materials needed for the remodeling of Gun Hill, so the roof is the best place for storage at the moment. A days worth of construction work done, Benajmin Ryans is in the process of covering a stack of dry wall with a tarp, where it sits on a couple of pallets that keep them high enough off the rooftop that the rain water won't get to it.

The stiff plastic tarp crinkles loudly as the Company's former Assistant-Director works. Crouched, he's weaving a short length of bungee through the gaps in the pallets and hooking it in the eyelets.

In the evening chill, his breath faintly steams from his nose with each breath, but at least he has on a thick flannel shirt over the worn teeshirt he's wearing. His jeans are speckled with various things such as caulking and paint, making him look, all the world, like a construction worker, rather then the Senior Agent he was, much less the man who was second from the top in the local branch.

Nor is he the only one dealing with a forced career change… and some have been handling it better than others. Case in point: one Gael Cruz, who's barely been seen during the past few weeks, even by the other residents.

As he mounts the stairs, he's dressed toward the casual end of his usual range - dark blue long-sleeve shirt, blue jeans - and inclines his head toward Benjamin as he approaches. "Need a hand with that?" he asks, gesturing toward the construction materials. "I saw it the other day, I was wondering who was working on it."

Without glancing at the other man, Ryans points to the other end which still needs to be secured. "That end, if you would? Figure it might be raining tonight." The words rumble and carry in the near-silence of the roof, only sounds being the traffic below and voices from adjacent buildings raised in anger.

"I took this up to keep busy and a thank you to the hostess, Miss Rowan. The place is fairly run down and the winter was not kind to her place." The older man explains, finally glancing at Gael out of the corner of his eye. "Good way to keep your mind off things. Lee told me your slowly re-emerging into the world. Good to see she was right."

"Good thinking. Better than what I came up with, at first." It takes Gael a second to get a feel for the material, but an easy rhythm soon establishes itself. "The winter wasn't kind to a lot of places… at least we won't have to go through that again, I hope. Whatever is going down in November is going to be bad enough as it is," he adds, glancing out toward the streets below.

"You had your reasons. I did my own drinking." It's no secret that Ryans lost his own wife in the Midtown explosion. "So I know." There is hint of sympathy there, but chances are it's only cause he's guarding his emotions.

"If November happens. We know what is going happen, it's just stopping it." He explains as he secures another bungee, before straightening, hands brushing at his knees. "Lynette says Gun Hill will be attacked that day, with hope that can be stopped. Already she's having an escape route built.

"Either way, we're forewarned." It's pointed out by Ryans.

He knew about Ryans' loss, of course - it was his job to know about things like that - but knowing and feeling are two different things, and the one does little to help with the other. If Gael ever returns to anything like his old role, now that he's (yes) gotten past the bottle, it'll be much more personal than before.

"He who fights and runs away… can run away another day." He shakes his head. "It needs doing, of course, but it's the short view. Who's working on doubling back against our detractors?" It's taken as read that someone would be, one way or another.

"No one yet, but I do believe Lee maybe a good one for that." Ryans admits blandly, "There is too much heat, yet. Have you paid any mind to the news since the government took us down?" he asks, studying the other man.

"But that doesn't mean things are not in the works." Work boots crunch on the roof top as she shifts to the edge to look down at the street below as well. "With so few of us, we are working with other underground groups at the moment." Shifting a bit, he faces Gael, arms crossing over his chest, chin tucking down a little. "In fact, we have an opportunity to deliver a blow to the Institute, by taking out the Company's tracking satellites. Intelligence suggests that they are about to gain control of them. Sabra put in protocols to stop them from using it, in the form of a virus, but it'll only last so long."

At that, Gael shrugs. "I've been starting to catch up. Things have been moving quickly." And he hasn't had anyone to delegate the tracking of details to, like he's been used to.

It's the mention of the satellite network that draws his specific attention; he straightens up, considering. "You're right, that should be high-priority, then. As long as we can hide, we have time to breathe— but that would take that away from half of us. We're in no position to take another blow like that."

There is a small hint of a smile, as Ryans says. "It's also righting a wrong." His chin comes up a little as he considers Gael, "That satellite was never meant to be used like that. It was Deveaux never meant it to be used to hunt these people down.

"No, it was a research tool only, it's purpose got shifted — perverted — like everything else." Arms unfold, hands dropping to rest on the brick wall surrounding the rooftop, leaning there. "The Institute is on the edge of making it into the ultimate tool. Pin point accuracy in tracking evolved down. None of them will be safe after that." Benjamin looks out over the roofs around him. "Imagine all those abilities at their disposal for their blasted experiments. Makes the visions look like a cake walk."

Head turning a bit, Ryans says, "It needs to come down. There is a plan to do it, I've volunteered to go up and help."

The smile goes unshared; instead, Gael runs his fingers through his hair in visible annoyance. "And here I thought they were just planning to use it for area sweeps - that would've been bad enough, picking up us and then together - unless we stayed scattered, which they'd count as a victory as well. If they're making it even worse—"

"What sort of help did you have in mind?" he adds, already imagining possible tactics. "Unless someone's got a private craft they've been holding out about, that means infiltration in close quarters. Careful planning, probably only one shot at the goal."

"I'm pretty sure, if they found me it would be a bullet to the brain, instead of being picked up." Ryans offers softly, before carrying on. "A group of various people, including a few of ours, is heading to China very soon, within the week.

"They have a shuttle going up, we're hijacking it." A hand comes up to hold off any thoughts or protests til the oldest of the two men says, "It is crazy and insane, but our only choice right now." If it's any consolation, Ben doesn't look all that happy about the situation. "While Sabra was working to save our secrets from the government, I was cultivating allies. One was the Ferrymen, another was Rebel." The name of the techopath shouldn't be a new one, to the other.

"I have faith in Rebel's plan, it's the best one out there. What I could use from you? Body on the ground , with others, to hold off the Chinese government." The words are solemnly spoken, by the ex-assistant director. "Unless too much time behind the desk has made you soft." The jab is really a good-natured one, even if the emotions are not there. "Deckard is on board to help with the ground, could use more people. "

Close quarters it is, then. Shuttles may have a lot of space available compared to the early days of space flight, but the point of the missions is to use that space.

"I'd be up for it, but I'd be fighting a language barrier— and I don't think they'd sit still and wait for a translator. Do we have a way around that?" Gael glances upward, considering. "I wouldn't put it past Rebel to offer real-time translation."

There is a touch of amusement at Gael's thoughts, "No translator required," Ryans states, turning his back to the street and leaning back against the wall. "We are literally going in gun blazing and while the ground crew is in the fire fight, a small group of us with Rebel's assistance will be boarding the shuttle and taking it."

Not the cleanest of plans, but a lot is in Rebel's hands. No doubt to be laid out on the trip there. A bit ruefully, Ryans adds, "We are risking an international incident, but… the alternate would be so much worse." A world at the mercy of the government, with no place to go or hide.

Guns blazing, against a government operation - and a foreign one, at that? It's the sort of plan that Gael would expect a brash youngster to come up with, or go along with. How old is Rebel, anyway? "You're risking the wrong side of a war of attrition, from the sound of it. At least if you can lay hands on some infrared goggles, take out the lights…"

"Maybe, but there is not a better plan with such a short time span. They may have control of the satellite by November…" Ryans glances back towards the door down into the building. "So the risks have to be made, or else we are looking at something very bad getting into the wrong hands. I'll let Rebel know your on board to help."

Benjamin falls silent, for a moment before he says, "I am sorry about Bianca, they hit us too hard, too quickly. So few of us got out of there " six agents, Gael." A heavy sigh escapes the older man. "I'm hoping against hope, that Sabra got out."

"I should have seen it coming. I thought they were fighting a war of attrition, not angling for a coup d'etat." Gael starts back down the stairs, but turns back after a couple steps, one hand still on the railing. "If she did? Then I trust she'll reveal her hand when the time's right. The branch offices, too— just because we're alone now doesn't mean it'll stay that way."

There is no answer from Benjamin, his eyes down cast to the roof, head nodding slowly. He doesn't have as much faith as the other man, but he doesn't think Sabra would make it easy for the Institute to find her.

"Keep your phone on. Rebel will contact us when it's time," Ryans finally says, focusing on Gael again. "Til then, always plenty of work in this old building to keep hands and minds busy." He then pushes away from the wall and moves to finish closing up shop for the night, so to speak.

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