candy_icon.gif goodman_icon.gif

Scene Title Reassignment
Synopsis After months in the Moab Federal Penitentiary, Candace Allard returns to New York City to report to her Pinehearst superiors.
Date May 12, 2009

Pinehearst Headquarters

Finding a cab in New York City has always been a harrowing experience.

Finding a cab in new York City in the years following the destruction of Midtown and the decomissioning of eighty-percent of the city's subway system has made that difficulty far greater. For some, though, the simplest of tasks like flagging down a cab has become monumental in the effort. Just over a month ago, Candace Allard was known as Prisoner 00023211662 in the Moab Federal Penitentiary, reduced to nothing but a number. Now, though, penniless and a fugitive from the United States Government, the things in life that once were taken for granted come as small miracles.

Something as simple as a cab ride, seems like so much a pipe dream. It's perhaps fortunate, then, that Fort Lee New Jersey is located only a handful of miles outside of New York, fortunate that the roadblocks that once segregated Manhattan from the rest of New York following a string of terrorist attacks in the winter have closed. Fortunate that one young woman hitchhiking down the interstate is far less of a problem in this day, something the police overlook.

Unfortunately for Candace, the kindness of strangers is just as rare in this day and age. Mulling over these facts makes the walk to a forested industrial park on the outskirts of Fort Lee less of a chore. She's had plenty of practice walking in the month since Moab was turned inside out during an attempted prison break. Time to consider her position, her benefactors, and her life.

By the time the interstate turns into back roads, and the back roads turn into a gated driveway leading to a park of office buildings with green-tinted windows in rural New Jersey, Candace has had nothing but time to think. Now, thankfully, she has the opportunity to act.

The walk up the drivway towards the Pinehearst Company US Headquarters is mercifully brief after all of the traveling she's been doing. Up through the well-tended courtyard,past a statue of a spliced double-helix, and finally through sliding doors into the carpeted lobby. Behind a horseshoe shaped desk, three secretaries handle phone calls, on a balcony over the lobby scientists in white labcoats move from elevators to offices.

For Candace, this is where one journey ends, and another begins.

Candy finally gets there, her feet tired, and her eyes looking over the office building. At least she arrived while they were still open, she thinks to herself as she stands there in the doorway. Nodding her head a little to herself, she begins to walk towards one of the receptionist. Stopping when she gets to the woman, Candy looks at her carefully for a moment or two, before she says in a choked voice, having had no water other than what rained on her during her walk, "I'm here to see Mr. Goodman, please," she says as she stands there, waiting for the receptionist to speak with her and let her know what to do. She turns to look out the door at the rain that is still coming down, feeling her wet hair dragging against her head. She knows what she must look like, some woman that the cat drug in out of the rain.

"I— " The secretary's reaction confirms that fear of what she must look like. Swallowing tensely, she just stares at Candy for a long moment, then reaches down to press a button on her switchboard, before hesitating and moving the finger away. "May I…" judgemental blue eyes drift up and down Candy's desheveled form, one brow rising with a doubtful expression, "say who's calling? I believe Mister Goodman is in a meeting all afternoon, so perhaps you'd just like to leave a message with him?"

It's the run-around, something that is so telling in the insincerity of her smile, in the way the other secretaries are looking at the woman who walked in from the rain. It's clear on all of their faces that there's nothing Candy could possibly have business here for. But on the same token, she knows a name not in the public directory out front to ask for. It's probably the only thing saving her from being escorted off of the property.

Candy looks at the woman as she puts a hand down on the table, the water dripping on to the counter as she says, "Tell him that Candace Allard is here, please." She watches the woman as she stands there, before she says, "I am not here to play games. I have important information for Mr. Goodman, and I really do hope that it gets to him when he wants it." She reaches up to twirl some of her hair around her finger, "Or, you will be the one out of the job for stalling his informer. Now, which would you rather have? Happy Mr. Goodman, or mad Mr. Goodman."

The other two secretaries immediately look back to their computer screens when Candy takes a tone with the one addressing her, and one that delivers all the properly pointed sentiments. The secretary that is on the receiving end of that blinks back a look of mild shock, then hesitantly reaches out to press the call button, her disquiet evidenced in the tone of her voice and it's faltering quality. "Mister— ah— Goodman, sir? There's a— " her eyes flick over to Candy, then back to the switchboard, "Ah, Candace Allard here to see you?"

«Thank you Stacy, please send her up.»

The response comes from the speakers by her monitor, and the dawning look of guilt crossing the secretary's face is sure validation. Looking up to Candy, she tilts her head down and sheepishly motions to a pair of elevators behind her, "Ah— mister Goodman will see you, ma'am. Third floor, take the right elevator." Her hand moves out of sight into a drawer behind the desk, then returns with a laminated badge that reads Guest across the front, with the spliced double-helix logo on Pinehearst behind it. She offers the badge out between two fingers.

"If you could put that on, er— as well. Just to be sure security doesn't hassle you?" There's a fleeting smile, one painted-on in an attempt to curry some favor from Goodman's apparent guest. Clearly someone doesn't want to lose their job.

Candy takes the badge and clips it on as she gives the woman standing there an icy look, "Next time, just do what I ask," she warns as she turns. Her rain-wet hair sloshing behind her and hitting the receptionist with a couple drops of water. She shakes her head a little, before she moves towards the elevator. Hitting the button, she takes her time to look back at the secretary, shaking her head as she mutters something about incompetance. Stepping in when the elevator dings, she hits the button and crosses her arms as she waits for it to take her to the third floor, tapping her foot gently, as the water that was on her sloughs off to collect in a puddle on the ground. When the elevator opens its doors again, a completely dry Candace Allard steps out, shaking her shoes of any lingering water, before she moves to step into his office.

The third floor of Pinehearst Headquarters looks much like portions of the lobby. Cream colored walls and a slate gray carpet, tasteful — but plastic — ferns set into cheap wall sconces. Everything looks deceptively average about the facility on the inside, right down to the office drones working away in open-door offices flanking either side of the hall Candy heads down. It's only about halfway down the hall, however, when a tall and darkly clad man slips out from one of the offices.

It's been a long time since Candy has seen Roger Goodman, and little has changed about the tall, gaunt man since then. Straightening his carnation red tie, Roger's eyes sweep down the hall to his erstwhile informant, raising a thin brow in questioning expression. "You look like you've seen better days, Miss Allard." He motions with one han towards the office door, "But given the circumstances of events I've been hearing about at the Penetentiary, I think being able to see you at all is a considerable victory. Please, come on in."

Candy nods her head as she comes in and shuts the door behind her, "Indeed," she says as she looks at the man before her. Her eyes taking in his office for the moment before he looks back towards the man himself. "Was rather disconcerting to go from lounging around in a bottomless pit growing more thirsty everday, to suddenly being on the corner of fifth and broadway," she says as she looks at the man. She frowns gently before she says, "I don't suppose you know what happened at the facility?"

"We have a few theories," Goodman states, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he makes headway into the office, bringing the conversation out of the hall. "Reports indicate there was a massive… event there. An uncontroled Evolved ability that influenced space and time, but we have no concrete evidence on exactly what happened." Moving into the office, Roger's focus is stolen by the panoramic view of New Jersey out of his office window, coming to stand behind his desk, his back to Candy with arms folded.

"Initial reports from a Department of Homeland Security investigation indicates that every single man and woman within a mile of the prison was displaced as you seem to have been." He turns to look over his shoulder, down to his desk and then towards the two chairs on the opposite side of it, a silent indication of where he'd like her to be. "Unfortunately for you, the individuals that you were sent to keep an eye on have — all but one — gone missing in a most peculiar manner."

Candy nods her head as she moves to take a seat in the chair. Her eyes watching the man in front of her as she crosses her legs demurely. "Indeed. As I just told you, one moment I was thinking on things in a cell, the next, I was on the corner of Fifth and Broadway," she says as she sits there. Her own eyes looking out over tha panaroma as she watches the rain drizzle down. "Really? Who is left? How did they go missing? Does this mean I have a new assignment," she asks as she leans forward curiously, wondering if she'll get the answers to the question.

"Everyone on the list except for Peter Petrelli have gone missing." Roger finally turns away from the window, settling his hands on the back of his chair. "We have attempted to locate them through a number of means, and the results have proven… inconclusive. There's a high probability that they may have been jettisoned — " there's a grimace, " — and I know how hard this may be to believe — into a point further ahead in time than our own. In other words, they haven't gotten back from the event at the prison yet, to our perspectives."

Turning his chair to the side, Roger steps around it and comes to sit down on it, reclinign back into the plush leather as he steeples his hands in front of his face, looking a bit strained and drawn out — proably from over-working himself. "Petrelli isn't a concern of yours any longer, officially. Unfortunately, events at the prison played out far different than we would have hoped, making much of your observations rather…" he tries to find a delicate way to put it, "lacking in value in the current time." Nothing like being told that months of hard work was for nothing.

"However," Roger moves to push a blue folder across his glass-topped desk towards Candy. "There is another issue that has come to our attention, and I think you might be in a unique position due to your circumstances to take advantage of it." Through the conversation, Candy has noticed how tired Roger seems, how much less vivacious energy his presence seems to carry since their first encounter.

"That folder contains personal information on a woman named Catherine Chesterfield. She operates a bar on 14 East 4th Street in Greenwich Village called the Rock Cellar. She's a person of interest that I'd like you to earn the confidence of. You're under no circumstances permitted to acknowledge any connection you have to Pinehearst."

Roger folds his hands over his stomach and breathes in a slow, calming breath. "I'd like you to seek employment at her establishment, try to earn her sympathy and friendship. She works for an organization called Phoenix, secretly. It is an anti-government faction of largely unregistered Evolved, of which Helena Dean — one of your prior targets — is the leader of. Catherine is a lieutenant in the organization, and their chief analyst. I'd like you to try and earn her trust enough to find membership through Cat into Phoenix…"

Candy nods her head as she takes the folder, and flips it open to read over its contents. "So, I'm to find employment, and work my way into her chest," she says with a grin as she sits there. "Sounds easy enough," she murmers. She looks over at it, before she looks back up. "While I was incarcerated, I heard of other people with abilities… similar to mine. Some that could read minds," she says while she sits there, her eyes looking at the man.

"I will not acknowledge my connections, but, they may have ways to interrogate that are deeper," she says. She frowns faintly before she shrugs her shoulders, "Regardless, this is an assignment that should be easily handled. Very few people in New York know of me," she closes the folder as she sits there, before adding, "Or for that matter, about what happened to me that night and since." She looks at Mr. Goodman, "Seeing as how any information that I have is useless, I will take this moment to take my leave, and begin on my new task," she stands up after saying that, before bowing her head slightly, "Have a good day then, Mr. Goodman."

"There is…" Roger hesitates on saying his farewells, "one tiny point to consider." Smiling from where he sits at his desk, Roger raises both of his brows. "Catherine does not make her involvement with the Rock Cellar public. So you're going to need to find a way to make acquaintence with her at the establishment that does not betray your inside information." His eyes narrow slightly, "Avoid any and all digital contact with me while on this assignment, and we will come to your for status reports. I have an operative named Trent Daselles, he'll be your contact once you make it inside."

There's a moment of silence, and Roger motions to the door slowly. "Remember, Candace, you're a skilled individual, but the people Catherine deals with are particularly cunning. Do whatever it takes to earn her trust and confidence. But— " he smirks, "I feel yoou are endowed with the proper assets to garner Miss Chesterfield's attention."

One nod of his head comes, and that smile he has grows some. "Good day, Miss Allard. Best of luck to you."

Candy turns to look at her employer as she stands there at the door for the moment, a smirk playing across her lips. "If… assets are what she is looking for, I know how to play them." She winks at him, before she says, "I will be sure that this… Trent Daselles is informed whenever he needs to be." She puts a hand on the door as she walks backwards out, "Do not worry, Mr. Goodman, my assignment will be carried out to your… satisfaction." She winks, before she opens the door and turns, letting it close behind her.

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