On His Good Sides


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Scene Title On His Good Sides
Synopsis Jack and Veronica catch up, and she dumps a new mission on him. He's also apparently run out of steam for blind hatred.
Date April 2 2010

Ruins of Midtown

It's afternoon, and Jack seems to have been busy making phone calls most of the day. The room has a new addition to it, which is a bronze chess board with black squares painted on the piece of metal, and bronzed pieces as well as black ones. When Mortimer's out, he seems to occasionally move a bronze piece, while Jack usually moves black pieces. Jack is winning the game, if Veronica ever pays any attention.

Right now he sits back on that couch with the left sleeve of his grayish green trenchcoat pulled up, and glove off. He's poking around the little openings in his robotic arm, which causes some of the fingers to suddenly twitch. "Come on, stop locking up!"

Veronica comes in from the snow, literally shivering and teeth chattering. The weather just keeps getting colder and colder — February's temps of 30s seem downright balmy by now, and the Southern California native, who arrived in NYC just after winter last year, is starting to consider putting in for a transfer back home.

She glances at Mortimer Jack, not sure which it is, though her guess is Jack as Mortimer was grounded more or less, and glances away, not sure how polite it is to look at someone who is doing surgery on their robotic arm. It never came up in Etiquette class.

She strides forward, pulling out a photograph and dropping it on the table in front of him, before averting her eyes again. "If you see this kid? I need him. Alive. Be careful — his power is dangerous. Microwaves shit."

Jack stares down at the photo, nods, then grabs a thin metallic stick with a small hook on the end, like some sort of surgical tool, and starts poking around some more. "Killing someone with a microwave ability would be easy, but taking them alive… Not. So. Sure how easy that would be."

He finally looks up at her from his arm, appearing more docile than normal, but a tad frustrated. "You know, you're starting to grow on me a bit. But since I'm holding down the fort, maybe you can do a favor for me?" He puts down the stick in his arm long enough to remove an issue of Pause magazine, tossing it on the table with it bent back to the Bao-Wei page. "I think that man can help me, and I can help him, but I can't leave here to find him. So perhaps we could re-evaluate our plan a bit, so it's not necessary for both of us to be here for it to work?"

"You can go, as long as Agents Y and Z are about," she says, with a smirk. Not because those are their names or what they're going by, but because if she's not here, there's always two agents that are. "I mean, in theory, once he comes in, he's going to be all starstruck or whatnot by the trap, anyone can shoot him, right?"

She glances at the photograph and frowns. "No. Taking him down alive isn't that easy. But I'm sure you can manage. He may have information on our case. Don't repeat that to anyone of course."

Jack picks up the picture, studying it with a casual stare and a brief hum. "Annnd, what's his current psychological profile? Hobbies, interests, age, name?" He lays his head back in deep thought, staring up at the clear tarp covering the lack of ceiling. "If we're not supposed to kill him, and he uses microwaves, it seems the only non-lethal means of taking him without getting killed is to render him unconscious without making your presence known."

"That's my plan, just spreading the wisdom," Veronica replies. "Luke Campbell but doubtfully going by that. He was on Staten, but more recently has been seen in Roosevelt Island, Greenwich, Central Park. Scares easy and might lack control of his power when upset, so be careful. He was in Old Lucy's trying to get a drink, though he's underage, and he used to go hunting with our suspect back in New Jersey. Not a lot more to him that I know, but it's possible he knows where our suspect is." She eyes him. "I don't want you to interrogate him if you see him. I just want you to take him down but not kill him and call me immediately."

"I've never been any good at interrogations. After a while the torture just makes them start lying so you'll stop." Jack notes with a dismissive wave of his hand, then slides the paper into his pocket and continues. He smiles, appearing fairly excited for a new project. "One more thing! Do you know the projection point of his ability? Liiike… his eyes, hands, maybe a 360 degree radius? Or is that unknown?"

"Seems to use his hands. It seems limited to things in close proximity, maybe 100 feet or so. My guess is if he's only had it a short time, he needs to have the target in his vision. Though he seems to use it unconsciously at times, when he's upset or angry, so … unconscious use of powers is always a messy thing. Strange things happen with a lack of control," she says and takes a seat. "You don't need to go look for him per se, but show your men, and tell them if they can't take him out alive, then let me know immediately where he is, and I'll get there or get someone else there as fast as I can, all right?"

"They'll be informed. They have nooo idea about the Company, or you, they're in the dark. I'm telling you so you'll remain discreet." Jack grabs his pin, humming and poking around his arm again. The thing hasn't been doing well for a few days, though it's easy to see why such a machine could easily go wrong, with its complexity. "I only have around five men who are actually combat ready, the rest are more or less pawns that have to be used by an expert tactician to be of any use. If anything, you'll be getting a call. But I'll make an effort to find your boy."

He winces when he pokes the wrong thing, and the fingers suddenly jerk back for a moment. "Mortimer's doing better, by the way. He's still taking his little Hokuto thing hard, but he'll get over it just like he's getting over a knocked up Cassidy. If I had to be honest, I'm happy for Cassidy. We were one person when we were with her, I remember what it's like, but Mortimer's just immature. We're too fucking crazy to be with a nice woman like her."

"Thanks," she says in regards to his help. She's asking a madman for help — what is the world coming to? She wraps her arms around herself, trying to get warm, if it's possible, though the inside is colder than the outside. "Well, uh, good. Tell Mortimer I said hi, I guess." She's not really sure what to say to his words — she agrees that Cassidy is too nice — or possibly too normal — to be with Mortimer Jack. Or at least what she knew about the woman. "Sorry your hand's acting up," she adds. "Was there anything else? I just came by to give you that information, but I should head back out to resume the search."

"Nothing else, though you are cold." Jack stands, opening and closing his hand a few times, then starts removing his coat that happens to have a light-blue buttoned up denim shirt under it. "You can wear it and get warmed up before you leave. Every man has to remember his manners when he's in love with a Southern Belle." he notes with a slight grin.

The agent chuckles and shakes her head as he begins to remove his coat. "I have a coat. I'm fine. I'm just tired of fucking snow. Antarctica, now this…" she says irritably. "I'm thinking our suspect might not be that interested in your power, or he knows it's a trap, actually. It's more and more important I find this kid — if he's the key to knowing where this other guy is, well. Two birds with one stone and all that noise, right?" She begins to move to the exit.

Jack starts buttoning up again, nodding and heading back to his seat. "I'll find him, stalking is one of the things I do pretty well, after all. I'll take a quick nap and discuss this with Mortimer. See you around, hot pants."

Hot pants? Veronica snorts. "Remind me to stay on your good side," she tosses back as she opens the door. "Sides," she adds, in correction, before disappearing into the snowy ruins of Midtown outside.

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