Stepping Up Security


abby4_icon.gif cat_icon.gif doyle2_icon.gif eileen_icon.gif grace_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif

megan_icon.gif odessa_icon.gif raith_icon.gif sable_icon.gif susan_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title Stepping Up Security
Synopsis The Ferry congregates at its heart to discuss missing operatives Lynette Rowan, Gillian Childs, Joseph Sumter and the entity believed to be responsible for their disappearances.
Date June 12, 2010

Grand Central Terminal: Ruins of the Main Concourse

Once an incredibly iconic sight of New York City and its tourist attractions, the topside of the Grand Central Terminal is ruined beyond recognition. Its domed ceiling once sported a mural of the constellations (painted backwards, to imitate what one would see from heaven), and is now completely gone, having caved into rubble and ruin when the building itself could no longer support it. Midtown air whistles through gappy walls which stand for no one, and anything precious of the illustrious Main Concourse, such as its gold plated chandeliers, the opal faces of the four-sided clock, the marble of the walls, has long since been stripped and looted.

Access to the basement is near impossible, or so it seems. Where broken balconies have not caved in on themselves, some entrances seem almost obtusely hard to access. Of course, it all depends on what you know. There are certainly ways downwards - they just take some patience in finding.

Grand Central Terminal's main concourse amplifies distant peals of thunder and fills its roofless cavern with the sound of a light rain glancing off the building's battered exterior. Giant windows with threads of glass hanging from the warped metal latticework allow only a solitary beam of sunlight to shine through them, illuminating the marble floor, old ticket booths that stand unused and the dusty gold banisters attached to staircases that access derelict balconies, and the dry alcove where Eileen has called this morning's meeting, shielded from the storm outside by great slabs of collapsed stone.

They could be deep below ground, but Eileen prefers the open air; it also gives the operatives in attendance ample room to escape in case of an ambush while protecting the entrance to the Terminal's subterranean levels in the highly unlikely event that someone was followed here.

Quarters are cramped, forcing some to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. Others have the good fortune of claiming rubble to perch upon or lean against. The Englishwoman opts to address them from a wedge of plaster that was once part of the concourse's astronomical ceiling, elaborate decoration and paint still visible if faded by exposure to the elements. "We received a text message from Elisabeth Harrison yesterday afternoon that confirms that Childs was taken by the Institute," she's saying, "and the Milburns tell us that Pastor Sumter's gone missing as well. I don't think it's out of the question for us to assume that their disappearances and Rowan's are related."

"It now seems obvious what Gillian and Joseph were wanted for," Cat opines from her position somewhere left of the entrance, "does Lynette Rowan have an ability which can be used for any specific purpose they have?"

Leaning back against one of the wall, Kaylee Thatcher stands with her right foot propped on the wall, taking some weight off the bruised and battered leg. Her right arm is wrapped from elbow to wrist in thick white bandages from being in an accident the day before. Her other arm cradles the injured one across her middle.

The telepath's never been a fan of so many people in one place, her head bowed and tilted towards the Avian Telepath as she tries to hear over the hum of mental voices surrounding her.

Not far from Eileen- really, is he ever far from her at these things?- is Jensen Raith, finally back to his old self. Maybe that's not a good thing. But for the time being, he's silent. What's he going to do, shoot things? Who has what ability is not his area of expertise. When it comes to figuring out how to get them back? Then, he'll have something to say.

Abigail has claimed a corner of the place, perched on some rubble and trying to keep to herself. no work, no pill. hard to miss her, she's got the pink hair again and with her hands in her lap, there's a raise of her hand in warning to indicate she's going to talk. "We won't need to worry about Gun Hill. There's been a van placed near it, and the place is being watched by the Lighthouse's benefactors since they caught wind of her disappearance." It goes without saying, that Abigail trusts them.

"Wait, wait…" Doyle's head lifts as he straightens a bit, looking over at Abigail in surprise and a touch of worry, his brow furrowing a bit, "…Linderman's people are watching Gun Hill? Shouldn't you've, I don't know, told us that?"

Grace is amongst those leaning — she's taken the end of a banister as her own, heedless of the dust that has rubbed off on her shirt where she leans against it. The olive fabric has been subjected to far worse in the past, as have the jeans that are more obviously stained with their spatters of paint in multiple colors. Arms crossed casually, she is as quiet as Raith, content to listen to the first round of queries and the establishment of their figurative starting position.

"I never asked if she had a power," Tasha says, in response to Cat's question. She sits on the ground with her knees pulled up toward her chest, one wrist in a nylon splint of sorts resting on top of one knee. Her brows knit in concern, as it seems the leaders of every place she's been are the ones missing. "So Gillian and Joseph are somehow the cause of the … the visions, you're saying?"

Megan Young is standing near the back of the group watching for certain people to be here tonight — if they weren't, she was going to be taking a trip specifically up to the Hangar. But one of them is, and she jerks her chin in Grace's direction in a silent 'need to talk to you later' gesture when she catches the other woman's gaze when it passes over the crowd. She has her arms crossed as she listens to the group in general, standing with her feet spread in a way that speaks of large amounts of time standing exactly thus. Blue eyes skim from speaker to speaker.

"Rowan's an electrokinetic," Eileen supplies. Rainwater carves paths down her face and neck, plasters curls of dark hair to her temples and brow, gathers at the point of her chin and creates tar-like tears of black mascara, charcoal eyeshadow that follow the curve of her cheekbones. Her eyes, however, are bright, and although she looks between Abigail and Doyle at their exchange, she leaves them to resolve it among themselves as her attention is inevitably drawn back to Cat, awaiting her answer to Tasha's question.

Near the back of the gathering, Odessa Knutson toys with her lower lip between her teeth and says nothing. Neither does Susan beside her, and not just because she's occupied with shaking droplets of glittering water from the cardinal red umbrella she carries.

"It can't be proven yet," Cat qualifies, "and for some that may cause disbelief, but Gillian is an augmentor and Joseph is the only brand of precog I know capable of giving visions to others. We know the Institute also has their drug called Amp to boost things further. I've seen at first hand how unpredictable the effects of multiple augmentation can be, how widely they can spread. So it seems the Institute wanted to secure information about some facet of the future. It can't be ruled out, at the same time, their goal was also to cause a disaster."

A glance goes to Abby and Doyle, understanding the puppetman's worry. Of course, she has no say in the matter since she has dealt with Angela Petrelli, so she lets that argument go. What does make Kaylee curious is Cat's observation. What is said, makes Kaylee thoughtful. "So… if that's the case, should we maybe expect the possibility of more of these? If it's some experiment? "

"I just found out before coming here Eric. It's not like I've been sitting on it for a few days…" Abigail responds to the large man, somewhat defensively, looking put off that anyone would think so. "They are. They protect the kids, and I'm sure, they're kicking themselves that Gillian got taken. But, there's now protection in place and if anyone tries to make a move, the words exactly were "they will have to deal with the Linderman Group" Not that anyone down here didn't know what that meant. They sure weren't going to have tea and cake with the bad guys. "You have an issue with that Eric, I can get you in touch with the person I'm in contact with. But let the others at Gun Hill know please"

"It would follow," Raith says in a continuation of sorts to both Cat's and Kaylee's statements. For now, Abigail and Eric are talking between themselves. "We already saw one manufactured disaster. Vivid hallucinations of the future to be would do a lot towards causing a second one, especially if a large number of people didn't like what they saw. Which brings us now to the real question. 'So what?'"

The ex-spy pauses a moment to give everyone a chance to ask themselves exactly that: So what? "That's the way things are, what do we do about it? Where do we go from here?" The water trickling causes issues for Raith beyond getting him damp. It's unlikely that a cigar would stay lit for long. He'll just have to think without one.

"I can see the Lighthouse, but, I mean, why Gun Hill…? Why do they even know about it?" Eric seems more than a little concerned there - not angry, per se, but worried - as he looks to Abigail, his head shaking tightly as he draws back with a frown, arms folding over his chest. Then he glances back to the main conversation.

Noticing Megan's pointed look, Grace nods briefly to her, before going back to watching the figurative ball of conversation bounce from speaker to speaker. It's moving fine without her help, so the Hanger co-operator remains quiescent. Especially when Raith's questions cover any she might ask.

The youngest in the room glances from Doyle to Abby, bringing up a hand to chew on her thumbnail nervously. "That's true. I mean, the kids are staying there, sure, but eventually it's supposed to be for other people who might not want whoever these benefactors are to know about them," Tasha says quietly, obviously uncertain about voicing her opinion being the newcomer to the group. Glancing then to Raith, her brows knit together… so what now? "How do we get them back?" is probably an innocent and obvious question, and her cheeks color a touch for asking.

"The Lighthouse is a legitimate entity. Fulk has paperwork that allows him to retain custody of the children due to the fact that other orphanages in the state are full and unequipped to care for them — if you're worried about the Linderman Group hanging around, don't be." Eileen reaches up to wipe her thumb across her cheek, smearing the track mark there. "You're on the DoEA's radar as well, and if this isn't resolved soon, people are going to start asking questions about why they've been moved.

"Gun Hill will be fine. We have papers for that, too, and there's no reason for anyone to believe that it's a Ferry property. Just convenient." Back on the subject of Gillian and Joseph, she lets her hand fall back to her side, fingers curling in on themselves. "Until we have a way to determine where the Institute is keeping them, a rescue mission is out of the question. Our focus should be on what measures we can take to step up the network's security and prevent this from happening to anyone else. I'm open to ideas."

"One thing we can do is being aware of our surroundings," Cat states. "When you go out, stick as much as possible to areas that have plenty of people and are well lit. If you find yourself in a place with little or no traffic, advise others in the network of that fact and your location. If at all possible, don't be out alone. We can't guarantee they won't make moves to capture persons, but it does seem they prefer to act without witnesses, so an important thing is ensuring there will be as much as possible." Her frame shifts, to perhaps allow for more comfort while still speaking.

"To achieve the goal of taking with no witnesses, surveillance is possible. It likely won't be possible to spot any and all observers if they use stationary assets to watch specific areas, but if the method is direct following it watchers can be spotted. Don't act like you suspect anything. Use what you have all around. Mirrors on parked cars, streetfront windows sometimes carry reflections. If you spot evidence of being trailed, get to safety as quickly as possible without leading anyone to your destination and call in for assistance."

A glance goes to Raith, lips press into a thin line. She personally doesn't want to wake up again, practically dangling off a bridge again. She doesn't say anything tho', especially as Tasha voices the question that's been floating around in Kaylee's own head. "Just about everyone they have taken before has been released." The telepath included, though she's not sounding overly hopeful that it will continue to be the case, as she gives a small shrug of her shoulder. "Not that I think we should bank on that."

On the question of security, Kaylee falls silent, brows furrowing in thought, glancing as others speak.

It was pretty much inevitable that Sable was going to be late. Punctuality on her part, for a meeting like this, would be more a sign of ill omen than a pleasant surprise. It would means something was terribly, cosmically wrong with the order of things.

That doesn't mean she's not embarrassed, and thus eager not to be noticed as she sidles in from one of the side entrances. She's wet, dark hair looking like that of a shaggy stray, and she's glad the thunder covers some of her approaching footfalls. Of the people here, she recognizes some few, and it's Tasha she chooses to sidle up next to when she arrives, much too late. She bites her lip, seeing if she can catch on to what all's being discussed without having to trouble anyone with an actual ignorance-revealing question. She gives Tasha a rueful smile by way of silent greeting.

"If it's possible, it might be a good idea to determine where they were grabbed," Raith adds, "I'll take care of that, if no one else wants the job. Beyond that, Cat's nailed your best defenses. Don't go out alone, don't go out at night, stay in populated areas, stay visible." And then, a shrug. That's really it. "I don't like saying it, but recovering our operatives is not-" Raith pauses when Sable signals her arrival, but does little more than give her a look of acknowledgement. "Is not our highest priority. As Eileen said, we need to focus on the immediate security of our network. If they keep abducting us, or if they have some way of finding out where any of us are at a given time, any rescue mission is going to be seriously compromised, and will most likely fail. The consequences won't be pleasant." There is one other thing to consider, but now is not the time to bring it up.

Eileen saves Abigail and Tasha to a degree as well, though once again, Abigail's playing Caliban's messenger and people don't like it. It's obvious why, they keep an eye on the lighthouse, kids were moved, they followed the kids in the wake of an operator's attack. She drops it, message has been passed, and instead she focuses on what the meeting is about. stick to groups, security for the Ferry. A nod to Raiths words soon follow.

A slightly disgruntled sound escapes Doyle, his head shaking just a bit as he mutters, "Still would've liked to be told…" A lean back, and he falls silent, trying to catch up to the rest of the madness being discussed.

The mention of the Department of Evolved Affairs has Tasha's eyes drop. When Sable comes to stand near where she sits, she looks up and offers a small polite smile, before her eyes dart back to Eileen and then Raith. "Pretty much act like we live in New York City, you mean," she says wryly — really, it's good advice for anyone living in an urban area where crime is wont to happen. The only difference is they're trying to protect themselves from the government instead of muggers and rapists.

"If you think the Institute is responsible for what happened on Thursday—" This from Susan at the back, umbrella tucked under her arm. "You should get in touch with one of Praeger's higher-ups and tell them why. Our network can't be the only one being affected by these disappearances, and the Department of Evolved Affairs is going to want to know. We might have better luck making allies on the inside." She touches Odessa's arm with a long-fingered hand with nails like painted ivory, her wedding band glowing gold in the sunlight. "You're credible, Cat. They'll listen to you."

Eileen is listening to Cat, too. She gives the other brunette a short nod. "Put out a bulletin tonight that summarizes those points. Oliver's right — it's what we should be doing already, but a little reiteration won't hurt. What about the safehouses themselves? Are we in any position to defend the Hangar or the Garden if they get hit?"

Megan finally speaks up, her voice carrying with authority though it's quiet. "The Hangar will be hit. We'll need to make arrangements of some kind."

Susan is glanced at briefly, a nod coming in response to the suggestion. "DoEA does more than listen to me," Cat provides dryly, "Agent Smoke in fact comes to find me when he has questions and information. So this time I'll get out in front and go to him." Tasha is briefly glanced at, she still intends at some point to ask what spooked her so much about the man. Eileen's call for a bulletin is acknowledged with eye contact and a nod before she moves on to addressing Raith's commentary.

"It wasn't hard to find where Gillian was taken," Cat surmises, "since her car was found abandoned and she'd been shopping. Or to at least guess that's where it happened bring a retrocog to the site, whose visions told the story. To that end, does anyone know what Lynette Rowan was doing just before she vanished, where she might've been? We can't rule out suspects other than the Institute right now, they're just the strongest suspect. If it were Humanis, I believe they'd already have made their involvement obvious."

Sable pulls a face. She just walked into the war room, didn't she? If there were a refreshments table, she'd be hanging out over there, with the pie and punch, and just nod and look reeeal attentive as she excused her lack of input via a stuffed mouth. No such luck. There's not even a solitary carafe, or a box of donuts. But when Lynette is brought up… suddenly she has something to say. She pipes up at once. "Uh… she was goin' to get some groceries 'r somesuch, if I recall. Just a normal resupply. I saw her on her way out. Was in the kitchen. I was, that is. She was… headin' out. For the groceries." Not so much for the public speaking right this moment.

Both grocery shopping. A link between the two? "What about Sumter?" Raith asks, "Do we know where he was?" Expression full of constrained irritation, the man sends a glance skyward. Stop with all this water, dammit. "We might be able to start taking note of places we should avoid."

"Means they were watched, and for a long time, not a short time. I've dealt with these people, the ones who have been plucking off people." Abigail pipes in from her spot. "Institute, They came to the bar when it was closed, back in April. Lets just say, the company agents in my bar were scared, really scared, and trying to do everything they could to keep someone from going with them. There's a man who was with them, his name was Desmond Harper. That might be someone to look into. He wasn't wearing a suit like the others and seemed to answer to someone higher up"

"The Hangar is as prepared as we can make it," Grace replies, adding her broken voice to the conversation. In its hoarse rasp, volume doesn't come readily, but she's audible enough. She glances to Megan. "If the network thinks it wise, we can remove the current residents to other locations; that should further minimize any consequences if we are hit."

'Agent Smoke.' Tasha doesn't look up at the mention of Cat's nickname for her father, but instead fingers a hole in the knee of her jeans. "If they were watched for that long of a time, then does that mean Gun Hill and … was Sumter taken from here? Does that mean they know about these places, too?" she asks, dark lashes finally lifting as she glances from Eileen to Raith.

"Harrison's communication mentioned negation gas and a shipping container like the ones we recovered from the vaccine trucks," Eileen says. Another booming report of thunder rumbles through the concourse. "If the Institute isn't responsible for what happened to Gillian, then we have two organizations with the same suppliers and M.O."

Whatever breath she might have allotted for her conclusion, Susan decides to save for her. The willowy redhead cuts in with a brisk, "And that isn't very likely." She removes her hand from Odessa's arm and shifts it back to the handle of her umbrella. "We don't know when Joseph went missing," she tells Raith. "Robin and Neil only noticed he was gone after we called for the headcount."

Eileen's lips purse, a slow exhale pressed past them. It isn't until Tasha brings up the elephant in the room that she finally summons the energy to address it. She's not looking very well. "If the Institute knew about Grand Central Terminal, they'd have ransacked it in search of Liette Fournier already. The same is true of Gun Hill. There's always a chance that we've been compromised, but she's a valuable enough asset that I don't think they'd wait." When her eyes eventually settle on Megan, the voice that accompanies their cat-green stare has gone somewhat hoarse. "We're working on restoring a property north of the city that can be used as a fallback point in the event that a mass evacuation becomes necessary. Other arrangements are already in the process of being made — I'll put out another bulletin when I have more information and what they might mean for the network as a whole. We can't continue this way and expect to survive."

"Joseph is an active person," Cat provides, "he moves around too frequently to be easily pinned down in movements and timelines. I suspected he might've been taken when the visions came and went looking, but there was no way to verify disappearance until the head count was made. As to sorting out where Lynette was grabbed, we could look for locations between our properties and the nearest grocery store which are best for making that move without witnesses and bring the retrocog to them. And/or do ask if people in the area saw anything weird." She's made mental note about looking into Harper, chooses not to speak of it at present. Or about the status of plans to interrogate Bella Sheridan. Something else comes into her mind at that point to be expressed.

"It's possible they might locate people and track them by use of traffic cameras," Cat advises. Because Jonathan Carmichael did.

Listening quietly, Kaylee nods slowly, her eyes on the ground in front of her. She shifts a bit uncomfortably, leg sliding off the wall. Lips pressed tight as she listens to Susan's account from the brother's operating GCT. She sighs softly, glancing up to look at Eileen.

Sable's done her bit, as far as she's concerned. She's determined to feel no more pressure or anxiety vis a vis this whole shindig. No more, that is, than the expected anxiety and pressure that comes from discussing multiple kidnappings performed by some shadowy organization that Sable's never heard of. She folds her arms before her and puts on a stern face. A show of determined solidarity is about all she's got left at this juncture.

"Whatever we do needs to be discreet. I'm sure they know we're investigating, but we shouldn't let them know we're investigating." Raith is stating the obvious, at this point. Everyone present surely figured that out already. "We have a lot of work to do. Any thought on how we divide this up, turn one giant task into smaller ones that individual teams can handle?"

"You or Eileen should just delegate it, maybe," Tasha says, chewing her thumbnail, and shrugging. "That way we're not stepping on one another's toes or being redundant. We," she gestures to herself and Sable, "can look around for likely spots for Lynette's kidnapping, but there are a lot of alleys in that neighborhood, and not many places where you can't be seen by someone, really. I mean, it's pretty crowded living in that area. The thing is, people are used to crime and they just don't blink twice. Also if they used this gas and anything like tranqs or whatever, it might have gone down quick and unnoticed, but we can still look."

When it comes down to dividing people into teams, Eileen looks past the small assembly of operatives and out across the concourse through its great, yawning windows. The rain is falling heavier now, thick cords of water winding down the slanted marble slabs over their heads, but even these don't provide the gathering with complete protection. Smaller cracks in the rock allow individual droplets to spatter against hair and clothes, while larger fissures produce a steady trickles lit silver by the light.

"Sable," because it occurs to Eileen that she doesn't know the newcomer's surname, "Varlane and Nichols can try to narrow things down regarding Rowan. Oliver, I want you to go with Chesterfield when she makes contact with the DoEA and watch her back."

Watch her back is probably code for deal with your father, but apart from a pointed look shot in Tasha's direction to emphasize her point, Eileen does not elaborate. "Raith, get in touch with Harrison, find out who she's working with and what we can do to help. Matheson and Doyle should focus on making sure that things keep running smoothly at the Hangar and Gun Hill. The children aren't the only ones who are scared."

"I know who Elisabeth got her information from," Cat provides, "I've hired the woman myself before. Rebecca Nakano, formerly of the NYPD. She now works as a private investigator and uses her retrocog talent to that end. Provide her with a mirror, and she can witness past events in it." Tasha is glanced at, Cat debating whether or not to ask her question then.

She opts not to; with Tasha assigned to her there will be time for that later.

Wait, Sable has to do something? But what if it interferes with band practice? She shoots a look at Tasha. So they won't be working together on this one. "They're seperatin' us?" she says, "Breakin' up the winnin' team?" she shrugs, "Sure, sure. We c'n snoop around. My knees 'r' gettin' fucked up from all the scrubbin' 'n' my hands all mangled from the scrapin'. I could use a break from labor."

"Makes my job easier, then," Raith says, "Gives me a foundation to build on, too. Still want Harrison's info. No sense in excluding a potential ally just because we know where she gets her information from. Anything else you want to task me with?" Not that he thinks his job is boring. It's just that Eileen is right. Just looking around him shows that the children aren't the only ones scared or even just nervous.

"Is there anything that I can do?" Comes from the EMT in the corner. Abigail straightens up a bit in spot. "Don't rightly know what I can do, but I could do something"

A frown creases across Doyle's brow as some of his kids are volunteered to go out and do things - Tasha, Magnes, Colette, and Sable apparently counting as 'his kids' in his book - but he doesn't object, just leans back with a bit of a grunt. The 'job' that he's given is nodded to, and he scratches at his chin with rough fingers, "Well, since we apparently have some unsolicited security… I think we'll do alright. The place is, you know, it's coming together well."

A rain drop plots on Tasha's nose as she looks a little surprised at Eileen's job for her. Lips part as if to speak, but then she presses them into a thin line, nodding once. She'll ask Eileen later if she's supposed to let Cat in on the secret. The fact Vincent knows Tasha is in Ferry now makes things a little less complicated, but maybe more so at the same time. "Maybe that person can look and find out how Lynette was taken, too, and Pastor Sumter," she suggests, glancing over at Cat, and back to Eileen and Raith.

Abigail asks if there's anything she can do and Eileen stiffens, considering. Lines of tension appear around her mouth, but it doesn't take her very long to arrive at a decision. "Rourke made contact with eight of the operatives taken from the Armory earlier this week," she says. "They don't remember anything about their time in captivity, but it's possible that their memories haven't been wiped, just blocked. Take Thatcher, find Rourke and ask him to take you to them. No one wants a telepath in their head. If you can convince them to consent, maybe we'll turn up something that will help us figure out where their New York facility is."

Raith's inquiry, on the other hand, receives a short shake of her head. "Stick to Harrison. She's got friends who are probably asking the same questions the network is."

"Chances are the Institute is operating out of the military base recently set up on Staten Island," Cat opines. "The first reports we got of people being put into coffin-like tanks and operatives in gear the Institute uses came from the island some months ago. They were discounted at the time as unreliable, the source being a drug user."

And Tasha catches her attention. "That's the general idea," she provides, "narrow down likely places to bring Rebecca and see if anything can be learned."

The sound of her name, has Kaylee straightening from where she is slumped against the wall, trying to keep her bandaged arm dry. The task given, gets a short nod from the telepath. "Will do." The young woman glances Abby's way, giving her the slightest smile. If it is one thing Kaylee knows it's how much people don't like her peeking. "Maybe at least one of them will risk it for the sake of the network."

Well, now Sable is sure as hell glad she's on local detective duty. None of this military base/mind wiping/coffin-like tanks talk sounds at all up her alley. It's all a little metal for her tastes, to be honest. She keeps a lid on it for now. She does not want to get caught in any assignment crossfire.

Raith gives Eileen the thumbs-up: Gotcha, bosslady. But he doesn't say anything in reply, giving the spotlight to Eileen completely.

Is it Eileen's reluctance to ask Kaylee to rummage around in minds gently, or for Abby to get involved? Abby doesn't know, there's a glance shared with Kaylee as she tries to puzzle out the reason Eileen stiffened the way she did before she returns her gaze to Eileen and nods. "I'll see what I can do, to get them to consent to Kaylee trying to get what she can from them. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to let her try".

And that concludes all the points Eileen intended to cover. Her mouth forms a tight smile that doesn't come anywhere close to reaching her eyes. "Unless someone has any other questions, I think that'll do."

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