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Scene Title Subterfuge
Synopsis Off the record, out of the public eye and under the radar, the DoEA and a Ferry associate may have found cause to trust each other in a single mysterious teenager.
Date March 13, 2010

Summer Meadows - Incomplete Construction

This is not Brennan's forte. Sewing up cuts on the foreheads and elbows and knee's of kids, checking for bronchitis and diagnosing pulled muscles and diabetes. That is his forte. Subterfuge and playing super secret go to ground, Bourne Supremacy stuff? No.

But he was smart enough to acknowledge that he's being tracked, likely, and had left the tunnels of the underground in the guide of one of mortimer's henchmen along with a few others. A jumpsuit over his warm clothes and normal jacket. Number 24 his assigned spare number and across the back had been the emblazoned name 'shepard'. Timothy had refused to impart who it was and why that guy wasn't bearing this number anymore.

Contact made with Praeger, a quick rundown of his situation and a request for help had resulted surprisingly in Praeger offering a meeting of some kind. The meeting came in the form of a call from Vincent. Quick agreement made in as little words as possible and to meet up where they had first met. Which was how Brennan came to be in Summer Meadows, the numbered getup stashed someplace for the gangs to come pick it up and a different set stashed on the edge of the ruins to walk back in. Paranoia right now, was Harve's best friend and he stomps his feet in the half built home in the residental area that hasn't seen continued work due to snow and weather. Waiting.

Subterfuge is a more familiar exercise to Vincent than it is to most. Particularly in the last year. Quiet, private meetings. To the point, lest a word fall out of place or a hand be tipped too early, or too unintentionally.

His arrival is as quiet as his presence overall tends to be: a stir of sooty smoke and dark vapor against a matchstick background of wooden struts and drifts of snow humped thick across an isolated yard. It furls in dense upon itself as it rises three, four, five feet and then some from the frozen concrete slab that is the floor, murk's trailing edges flexing into curled fists and square shoulders a room's length away from Brennan's turned back. It's a theatrical ability for all that its offensive capacity is fairly limited, and Lazzaro remains an umbral golem of black and grey until it seems certain that Brennan is as alone as he looks, hard features defined in stark relief with empty sockets for eyes and an expression that's hard to mistake for anything less than wary judgment.

But Brennan is alone, and so is he. Soon enough, color and detail resolve themselves all at once. Smog thickens futher still into the black of a conservative overcoat and touches of white and gold trace pinstripes through his collar around the fussily neat windsor of a tawny olive tie.

For the first time in over an hour, he takes a breath and expels it out into a foggy sigh.

"Doctor Brennan."

Right, smoke man. Brennan turns a little fast at the sounds of Vincents voice and the coalescing of his incorporeal form to be counting him as not jumpy. He is. No hands digging into pockets to fetch a gun and breath curls out in a white vapor that isn't as thick as Vincents own evolved ability.

"Agent Lazzaro" There's a nod and an offer of his gloved hand. "I appreciate you meeting me so quickly" He offers to the other man and it's sincerely written across his face. "I feel like i'm a Bruce Willis movie and can't say that I very much appreciate or like it"

Likewise gloved, Vincent's hand grasps firm at the offer of Harve's once he's picked his way near enough through the construction for it to be feasible. He's hard to read in naked light, but here in the shadow of ice-slick wood and life paused still with the cold, it's nearly impossible. Still, eye contact is flatly direct as ever and the appreciative half-smile he manages for the good Doctor's assessment of their current situation feels genuine — all the way down to a twitch at one brow that suggests he's beginning to feel the same way.

"Hopefully not one where he wakes up dead in the end. More seriously, we appreciate you taking strides to keep in contact with us regarding matters of…this nature." Elaboration seems extraneous, even out here with quiet voices and only the whirr of air and ground traffic to remind them that they aren't ever entirely alone. "I assume nothing has changed since we last spoke."

"She's in a highly secure location with individuals that I trust will protect her. Much better than I can protect her with a tire iron agent Lazzaro. I can't stick around for long and I apologize for the cryptic quality but, I'm worried for the girl and I'm at a loss of what to do. She's not allowed to tell me the answer to most of what would get her to where she's from, or the answers that she can tell are insufficient in information. I don't think Liette is even her name, but one that she's allowed to give." Brennan takes back his hand, peering over his shoulder with furrowed thick brows.

"I was hoping that your department might be able to enlighten or direct me towards a solution with as little collateral damage as possible. Also known as, whatever won't get my family dead and hurt and won't get that girl in the hands of individuals who will… use her. She has intuitive adaptive mimicry. She's exposed to an ability and can recreate it for an indefinite period of time. SO far, her bag of tricks has been impressive but she doesn't seem inclined to wield them detrimentally"

"…Actually, Doctor Brennan, as it stands," Vincent follows the other man's look over his shoulder with a mild glance, black eyes quick to magnetize back on target, "if you are confident that 'Liette' is well-hidden and secure, it's probably to her benefit that you keep her that way…for now." The last sounds tacked on, like a staying hand raised to fend off protest even as both of Lazzaro's remain idle at his sides.

"While this is the first I've heard of an invested technopathic party, Secretary Praeger and I have reason to believe that she is in serious danger. I can't get into specifics," again, he's staying, eyes blinked hard against how irritating he's sure the black marker lack of detail is, "but suffice to say, it's from a source we are not in a position to openly defy until we have a better grasp on the situation. If your family has been threatened, I can arrange for a personal security detail for your wife."

"Technopath. My wife has my cellphone and can show you the text messages if you need it, if the individual in question hasn't somehow erased them. I was instructed to drop the girl on a corner with someone wearing a red scarf. The threats to do so were accompanied by 'we know where your family is and will harm them' if I didn't comply. We were locked in my vehicle till we manually unlocked the doors and went to our home to gather necessities for going to ground till I could figure out what to do or who to go to. She's insisted that it's against the rules to go to law enforcement. That terrorists will take her and cut her brain open"

Brennan stamps his feet, making sure to keep blood flowing. "I stumbled across some individuals who while some are a little less than mentally stable, seem to have taken an earnest liking to her and I am acquainted with another in their collective. They're watching over her right now. You're suggesting that we remain with them for the moment?" Serious danger. Brennans lips purse and he shakes his head.

The near perpetually flat line of Vincent's mouth thins further in return. He is a scowly sort of person; today is no different. On top of that, it's clear he's using a beat of silence to carefully consider his word choice, here. Whatever this is, there's no denying it's a complicated situation. Even for him. "I am suggesting that you should take whatever reasonable steps you feel are necessary to keep safely her in your custody. I would also," he breaks long enough to swallow, brow hooded as if it pains him to say so, "take her at her word regarding the involvement of any law enforcement agency."

It's not any better once it's out, and he looks away, eyes drilling hard after an as of yet unused plank of wood half-buried in snow some feet away.

"Young people are prone to hyperbole, but so far as brain surgery without consent is concerned, I expect you will agree that safe is better than sorry. You should also know that there are countermeasures against technopathic attack. An older model car, for instance, will save you the risk of having it come under remote control. Carrying a cellular phone is a liability, as is the use of any computer at a location you'd prefer remained off the grid."

"I have cash on hand, Michelle can access more if I need it and place it somewhere. I'll hit up a used car lot if I must and find something old if we have to leave the city. We have no phones on us. If someone can keep an eye on my family it would make me feel more secure. He didn't follow through on his threat but…" But there's no telling whether he might in an attempt to draw Brennan and Liette out.

"Who is this girl Agent Lazzaro? Because I'm starting to feel like I've stepped into some whole other world that will leave me wishing I was dealing with Guerilla's in the Congo's trying to steal my medicine" He digs his hands into his pockets, his own gaze joining Vincents in drilling through the plank. "Were deep enough underground that no transmissions of a cellular and wireless variety can penetrate"

"I don't know."

Brows tipped up in resigned c'est la vie confession of ignorance, Vincent looks Brennan over before turning enough to scan the snowy street.

It's still empty.

"If you would like me to arrange for a twenty-four-seven escort for your wife, I will do so immediately under the condition that she separates herself from the situation from this night forward. The pretense will be that you have come under threat, which is true. Not that they are to assist you in what you are doing. They cannot meet your friends or accompany you underground, and they certainly cannot know of Liette." The shorter man has to pause to draw in a breath there, fresh sleet just beginning to settle on the hard line of his shoulders under his coat. "Otherwise, please keep me in the loop. If at any time you choose to make alternative arrangements or decide that you no longer wish to be involved, I need to know."

"I wouldn't expect anyone who was set to watch over my family Agent Lazzaro to end up getting involved or become embroiled in this. I agree with the terms" Brennan offers. "The same individual who threatened my family also put her in my lap. But from last night onwards, Michelle was told to say that I have gone to Chicago on family business and nothing else. You do what you feel is necessary and appropriate with regards to my family. I trust you"

Amazing that. Someone trust Vincent and the department of evolved affairs. "I'll keep you and secretary praeger in the loop. I should get going, I need to meet up with my escort and see about getting back without being tagged" He offers his hand again to Vincent. "Thank you Agent Lazzaro. FOr everything.”

"You can thank me when it's over and we're all still employed and in one piece," delivered with at a flat level that isn't entirely friendly, Vincent takes Brennan's hand nonetheless, shake a practiced pump precisely the same grip and squeeze as before.

"If you're in a hurry to get back, I won't hound you for it now, but any additional information you have on the technopath that's been pulling strings may help us make a connection with this girl's background." Lazzaro's taking a step back as he says it, trailing edges of loose vapor already falling blackly from the fringes of his sleeves and cuffs. "In the meanwhile…we'll be in contact."

Then the rest of him falls away in fluid kind, like wind stirring through a furl of dust until there's nothing.

"Try finding this Rebel person" He says to the shadows before they disappear completely. Her turns then, looking towards the rest of the refurbished community and with a tired sigh, starts to pick his way out. Maybe he'll stop and pick up some ice cream on the way back or something as a treat. Donuts. Madmen like donuts right?

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