Participants:
| Scene Title | Pimpernel |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Liz contacts Jane to deliver a few warnings. |
| Date | June 1, 2011 |
A Coffee Shop
This is always one of the bigger risks that Elisabeth takes. Dropping a text to Jane Pak is dangerous, at best. If the woman decides that Liz is on the wrong side, there will be a squad waiting for her. But she's willing to take the chance. The weather is all right — not quite 70 yet, so Elisabeth is wearing a pair of scruffy jeans and a spaghetti-strapped tanktop. Her blonde hair is loose to her waist and there is, of all things, a purple streak through the front of it. Sometimes she braids the streak, but today it's just loose. It's an effective disguise, making her look years younger and unlike the ex-director of FRONTLINE for certain. She is sitting at a small outdoor cafe with a blueberry muffin and a large coffee waiting on the person she wants to see.
Dangerous for both of them, given that Jane would be in deep if anyone noticed her chatting with the notorious Elisabeth Harrison. Given than Jane's closest friend is hunting for her and all. But Jane shows up, and she shows up alone. She's in her work clothes, although both badge and gun are out of direct sight. Just a lady in a nice suit.
"Well, this is different," Jane says as she approaches the table and slides into a chair. "A little late for the rebellious stage, isn't it? Or were you just in the service for too long?" She sets her coffee down, from somewhere else, but she's picky about her blend. Not every place is willing to make bottom of the pot, percolating all day, tar black, Army-style coffee, after all.
Elisabeth glances up and slants a cheeky half grin at the agent. "Who's going to be looking for the ex-director of FRONTLINE in the face of a woman who colors her hair purple?" she asks easily, her ability keeping her words from carrying beyond Jane. "Glad you could make it."
"Just me, apparently," Jane says with a crooked smile. "Anything to keep me from my desk of reports to pour over. You know, TV makes jobs with badges seem way more exciting than they really are." There's a pause there as she takes a drink from her cup. "What's on your mind, Harrison?"
"A couple of things," Elisabeth admits. "Most of it you're unlikely to really need to be in the middle of so I'm going to sit on it. But some…. directly involves you." She sips from her cup and asks softly, "Do you remember the dreams last year? The one of the riots?"
That makes Jane lift and eyebrow, expression falling for a moment. "I remember." It's a simple answer that is very telling. Like, she probably had one of the visions herself. "People blacked out, woke up reporting strange visions or dreams. According to the internet, it was aliens." But she does try to keep up her good humor.
The blonde snerks. "Yeah, I liked that possibility. Might have been more fun if it had been aliens instead of fucking precogs and zombie riots," Elisabeth observes drily. "And since you and I both know what it was, this'll be easier. There are some people having dreams of the future that is hurtling at us right now. And …. it's bleak, Jane," she tells the woman in a quiet, serious tone. "Your name came up in one. And as it turns out… at least in the timeframe they were dreaming of… you spend the next few years gathering information." She tilts her head. "According to what was seen, you had finally come up with enough proof to sway Praeger."
"It's always bleak, Harrison. We Americans just aren't used to the idea of it being bleak for us." Jane leans forward, folding her arms on the table. "Years, huh? That is bleak. But unfortunately, not unbelievable. I admit, I was hoping to go faster than that."
"Yeah… me too." Elisabeth studies her and says quietly, "and yes — years. Thing is… the dreamer was seeing the reports of your death. And the destruction of all the evidence you'd accumulated, Jane." Her tone is gentle but it's also only a possibility. "Because of the dream, there are people who work in conjunction with me who would like to approach you. Give you an avenue to siphon intelligence through. I don't know exactly who will do it, but I warned them that you and I had already spoken a few times and I am loathe to have too many people approaching you and thereby blowing any possibility of keeping that outcome from happening. So I'm going to warn you up front that the possibility is being considered, and I don't know who or if they'll approach you. I didn't want you to think you were being set up for something if it happens."
The idea of her being dead doesn't really seem to bother her much, but that's not much of a surprise, really. Most of her adult life has been spent in one dangerous profession or another and death is something she came to terms with a long time ago. However. "How did they find the evidence? How'd they know where to look? Did the dream explain where I was keeping it?"
Jane settles back, bringing her coffee with her as she mulls over the news for a moment. "I appreciate the warning. Being approached by persons of interest suddenly probably wouldn't end well. So some people are thinking of coming to see me because they saw my evidence in a dream about a possible, bleak future. I wish I could say this was the weirdest conversation I've ever had."
It makes Elisabeth laugh softly. "Yeah… well, you know. Wonderland and all," she chuckles. "Strange comes with the territory. The situation was unclear," she admits. "My understanding is that the dream was of someone you were in contact with in the Ferry telling the dreamer about your murder. There was no information given to me about the evidence itself, and they themselves may not know what precisely you had. Only that you had it and were in a position to finally bring it out and you were stopped. So primarily this is just a warning to be very careful who you trust. It's … a lonely road." The blonde grimaces. "And secondarily, if they do decide to contact you and they let me know ahead of time, I told them that I'd warn you so you weren't shooting people in the face or something." She grins a little.
"I'm no stranger to secrets. I can handle it," Jane says with a smirk to meet Liz's grimace. "It's a good idea. I do like to live by shoot first," she says, but they both know that isn't how she does business. "I'll see about giving them some safe openings to approach me. Make sure they know, if you do know ahead of time, not to approach me at the gym. Or a bar. I have a particularly driven DHS agent with me around those times."
Elisabeth nods. "I'll pass that along," she says with a nod. And then she smiles just a little. "I guess I also thought you might…. like to know that in the years that you looked, you weren't doing something in vain. That there is something there to find," she admits. "God knows, I've already been at it for a couple of years and it can be frustrating to feel like you're getting nowhere fast."
"That is good to know. But I'd've kept looking anyway. If there's doubt about my department, I'll always look. What this department stands for is important to me. If we do our jobs, then there's no need for things like Messiah and the Ferrymen and organizations like them. So. I'll look." Jane lets out a breath and shakes her head a little. "I consider myself a pretty laid back person, but there are some things even I am driven about."
There's a long moment of silence, and Elisabeth can't help the smile. "I hope that day comes," she says quietly. "Be careful out there, Jane. I'll let you know if I find anything out about people heading your way. I dunno… maybe we'll have a code word or something equally stupid to work with." Secret handshakes. They did it in the Revolutionary War, after all. Mostly she's kidding. Although only mostly. And it seems she really was just trying to warn Jane Pak, because it looks like she's getting ready to go.
"Pimpernel," Jane says as she starts to stand herself, a but of a nostalgic look about her for the non-sequitur. "My guys used Pimpernel in the war. Harrison, you take care, too. You know how to find me, if you need me." She gives the woman a lazy salute before she picks up her coffee and starts to head off herself.