Participants:
| Scene Title | Tactical Reassessment |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Messiah attempts to hold a tactical meeting regarding the attack on Staten Island Hospital, but an undercurrent of personal issues makes tactical coordination difficult. |
| Date | August 11, 2010 |
On the third floor of the Howland Hook administrative building, under the glow of a swinging, hooded ceiling lamp, Peter Petrelli's features look more severe and sharp than usual. High cheekbones and a narrow jaw make his face more knife-like than usual and the shadows of sleepless nights hanging dark beneath his eyes accentuate that impression even further.
This meeting is smaller than the last, only a handful of people invited up to the meeting room un the dim lighting. Smoke hangs in the air, wafting from where Rupert Carmichael sits nearby to the table Peter's hunched over, a cigar pinched between his fingers and held away from his mouth with a snifter of Brandy cradled in the other hand, the bottle sitting on a stack of milk crates next to the folding chair he's lounging in. It's a little socially anachronistic.
Gone are the hired muscle for the most part — Knox, Lacombe, Riggs — the people who are in Messiah to make a big explosion and walk away. The people up in this room are the brains; the thinkers, the schemers. Though not even all of them are here.
"I'm glad you could show up," Peter offers quietly with a look to the door and the last person to come filtering in, "we've got a lot to go over and a lot I want your opinions on so… take a seat or come stand around the table."
Messiah's leader isn't the only one looking as though they need more sleep than they're getting. Melissa has dark circles under her eyes, but she doesn't need to be told twice to have a seat. She moves over to the table, settling into a chair and slouching down a bit, arms folding over her stomach, fingers linking together.
She looks around at the few others gathered, gaze lingering on each for a moment, and Rupert a wee bit longer than a moment, before her attention returns to Peter. However, she does have to ask Rupert, quietly, "Did you bring enough for everyone?" Did she make a joke? It might be. There's a tiny little smile, it looks like. Maybe.
There is some crossover involved, re: the types of people present. Gabriel is something like a blunt instrument for the most part, and his plans involve 'stand back, I'm trying science' as the general summary. But there is a certain side to his power, and a certain side to the man he used to be, that involves careful thought and consideration, and so here he stands. After maybe a little convincing that he is not his own evil clone, a stigma that's since kept him at bay up until this point. There needs to be a safeword for that. It could be peach pie.
It seems unlikely enough. Dressed in tones of navy, black and grey, Gabriel stands with his arms crossed over his middle, watching the spectacle that is Peter Petrelli, terrorist leader, for whom he gave his loyalty, allegedly stolen from the Vanguard Remnant. He remains shadowing a corner than offering his approach, the stance of a spectator.
If Ling is as bad off as some of her compatriots, she has done rather good job of hiding it, her face as pristine as ever, black hair framing narrowed eyes as she sits. Her weakness shows in how she hobbles into the meeting, still making way on a broken leg, and unwilling to fully use her ability for fear of having to reset her injury.
Next to Melissa she waits, silent with her hands folded on the table. Her gaze simply moves from person to person, appraising, judgmental, and considerate as she muses to her self about the nature of the meeting. Smoke rises from Rupe's cigar, finding it's way around her as if it gravitates to her, swirling around her, merging with wafts and tendrils of smoke that rise from own form in an almost theatrical manner.
Lack of sleep doesn't effect everyone, especially for a Regenerator… it has its perks. Her back is to the wall again, arms folded across her chest, making the leather of the black jacket she's wearing creak. The rest of her clothing shares the same theme in color. Black, black and… okay, a bit of dark gray. Claire Bennet is nervous, even if she believes the man next to Peter is not the Anti-Gray of evil… the fact that he's still out there makes her fidgety. She is trying her best not to show it.
Of course, she also feels out of place within this group of Messiah members. Claire believes herself on par with Knox and them, not the 'smart' ones of the group. A glance goes to her Uncle and then Rupert, uncertain she should even really be here.
Gabriel Gray and Huruma have several things in common, one being that they can both function as blunt instruments, yet are tactical enough to be summoned to such meetings. Well, on his end, it helps to be him. Huruma is going to be providing triage support, but regardless she finds herself here as to at least offer her input from either experience or formulated opinion. No slouching wallflower, she is very rigid in her taking of a seat in one fell swoop into the room, like a big vulture predestined to perch and observe.
The comparison is possibly closer than initially thought, with her habits and the fact she always seems to be in meticulous readiness.
"I had a meeting with the groups we'll be working together with on this attack," Peter explains with a look around the room, "and it's going to end up with us operating in teams in order to attack the hospital. What I'm going to do, is go over what was discussed between all of us during the initial planning meeting and outline how we've got the attack planned. Then, I want you all to come up with suggestions on how to tighten everything up… how to make it work better for us. You've all been in unique combat situations, and I'm going to need all of your help on this."
Then, moving his cigar from his mouth, Rupert jokes, "…and everyone who questions my genius plan is fired." The smirk that follows barely restrains a snorted laugh at his own joke and a dismissive wave of his hand as if to visibly demonstrate how much he was kidding in awkward fashion.
Peter slants a side-long look to Rupert, one brow raised, then unrolls a map out across the plywood tabletop, revealing a detailed city planning map of Staten Island in two layers. One paper layer showing subway routes and sewer access and another showing streets and buildings made of a plastic over-lay. Apparently both will be important.
"Claire, could you come here for a minute too?" Peter asks with one brow raised slowly in query as he lifts up a hand towards her, as if beckoning her to take it.
A map? Melissa sits up and leans forward so she can see the map better, before glancing at Claire, briefly, then back to the map, studying it intently. "So, three part attack then? Since there's three groups? Or should I shut up until you actually get to telling us the plan?" Her gaze flicks to Rupert and she adds dryly, "the brilliant plan?"
"We level the place." This, from Gabriel, ever helpful, his voice quiet and edging its rasp through whatever silence is available to make his suggestion. A dark eyebrow raises and he turns a little at the waist to make a show of looking around the room, arms still locked around him, one hand drifting up to absently toy with the edge of his shirt collar, glancing back towards Peter. "Unless we're intending to make sure that people live through it, and then I guess that might alter things."
"I would like to live through it," Ling retorts to Gabriel, eyeing him. "So let's not be in too much of a rush to bring the place crashing down." She scoots her chair forward, leaning up as well as she can in an effort to get a better look at the map in front of her. "A three point attack. I must admit, I am curious as to what, exactly, we are targeting with such an odd number of fronts." A glance over to Melissa, but otherwise, she continues to remain quiet, resting her chin on steepled fingers.
Singled out, Claires darkened brows lift at Peter's request and then furrow slighty as her eyes drop to the offered hand. A glances goes to the people around her as she uses a foot to push away from the wall, arms unfolding as she does. There is no hesitation as she closes the distance between them, though she doesn't take the hand, uncertain if she really should.
Her head turns a bit to look at Rupert and then the map. "Okay…" She offers up, "Lets hear this plan." Her mouth does twitch up into the beginnings of a devilish smile. "Though I do like Gabriel's idea… it has merit, but I do want Gillian and others out."
"Leveling something does not necessarily mean nothing will survive-" Huruma is able to narrow her eyes across the room, and depending on whether they look or not- she is catching both Peter and Gabriel in her sights. Only paranoia will tell if they think she's looking at them, incidentally. She also tilts her head to peer over the table and the maps on its surface. "If you all intend t'go in divergently, I suggest you have several means of getting out, b'fore you plan on what t'do inside."
Rupert and Peter share a moment of quiet contemplation as they exchange a glance while the others talk. Rupert takes that time to allow himself a leisurely sip on his Brandy while Peter uses it to rub one hand across the back of his neck to work out cricked muscles. He eyes Claire on her approach, then lifts up a hand to lay on her shoulder. The exchange of yellow-gold light between his hand and Claire's shoulder comes with a slow exhalation of Peter's breath and a near immediate look of relief from the tension of his muscles.
He'll just be borrowing that.
"Leveling the building is part of the plan, but it's the last step. Most of you know we're going in there to liberate the captives held by the Institute, those that weren't up to speed on that— now you are." Leaning over the table, Peter pulls out a dry erase market and circles a large building complex. "This is the Staten Island Hospital, and this," Peter leans over a bit further and circles what looks like a baseball field and park. "Is Miller Field, where the National Guard have set up shop. The response time in optimal conditions would be around seven minutes." Peter draws a red line in a boxy pattern from Miller Field, down three main streets to the hospital's doorstep.
"The teams we currently have figured out will come in three ways. One team will serve as a distraction, remaining outside the Hospital to engage the Stillwater Security teams that are positioned out there. The second team will come in from the sky, dropping in from above on the hospital's roof under cover of invisibility. The third team," abnd to show tihs, Peter pulls back the clear plastic sheet to reveal the sewer map, "will be blowing a hole in this drainage tunnel from below to enter the hospital from the basement levels…"
That bit of light has Melissa's head tilting and a brow arching. Then again she's looking at the map, fingers lightly tapping on her knee as she considers. "How will the second team be coming in? Obvious way from above is a helicopter, but it's hardly quiet, so invisibility wouldn't do much good there," she murmurs, almost more to herself than to anyone else.
She looks up again. "Who all do we know that's in there? The captives, I mean? I know they've got Gillian and Teo, but are we aware of anyone else who's definitely on the do not hurt list? I'd rather not accidentally hurt someone we're supposed to be rescuing because I thought that they were one of the bad guys."
Ash is late! His footsteps presage him, feet scuffing on the floor underneath his tread as he walks. The man is dressed in his fighting outfit, for those that have seen him partake in the underground fights in New York. A simple pair of black gi pants with an equally black belt around his waist, little red figures stitched into it. Upper body is covered by a black tank top. He's got a gym bag over one shoulder. A fresh bandage adorns his eyebrow, and his lower lip is split, but he's got a grin on his features as he makes his way inside, dropping the gym bag just inside the door before offering a nod to everyone present.
The new presence has Gabriel's glance twitching up off maps, towards the other man, before it drifts back towards diagrams. He's come forward a little, now, finding a gap at the table to stand and pallid light spills upon him, welcoming him into the fold. A stitched wound is visible on his hand, a blind girl's work, though it doesn't look it, and those black tracks shift a little as his fingers flex. His eyes dart up to regard Peter as he asks, simply, "Who are we working with?"
Ash's arrival receives a stern, chastising glare - rude and obnoxious to be so late to an important meeting. Gabriel's question receives a slow nod of agreement from the Chinese woman, looking carefully at the map of the sewer systems. "And just who are we planning on to put into each group? I trust you have this devised to make the best use of our… abilities." Which means she's already theorised where she fits into this, but she's waiting for confirmation from Peter or Rupe first.
Claire's head turns a little to look, out of the corner of her eye, at the glowing hand on her shoulder. Blue eyes lift to look at Peter for a moment, but then she turns back to the map on the table. Her brows furrow sightly as she looks at it, trying to keep focused on what is said. Ash's arrival manages to yank Claire's attention however briefly, before looking back to the plans.
"We're working with elements of the Ferrymen," Peter explains with a wag of the dry-erase marker towards Gabriel, though his dark eyes have briefly settled on Ash long enough to afford the man a nod of recognition before returning to the map, "and associates of Richard Cardinal. I heard the term End Game thrown around in association to him, but I'm not sure if that's some sort of operation plan title or the name of a group he runs. Either way, he was helpful enough to lend us intelligence of the facility, its layout and staffing, which you'll all be getting."
Looking back to the map, Peter taps the capped end of the marker down on the hospital. "Team 2 will be getting in with the help of an old aquaintance of ours, Magnes Varlane." That delivery elicits a look to Ash, one brow raised, but only fleeting before his attention drifts around the rest of the group. Magnes will fly everyone in while a Ferrymen operative I didn't catch the name of will supply the whole group with invisibility. That team will consist of…" Peter reaches out a hand to Rupert, and the smoking and drinking man of action is forced to bite down on his cigar to free a hand, then pick up a manilla folder up from a stack and offer it out to Peter.
Slapping the folder down on the table, Peter flips it open and looks at a list, then slides out camera phone photographs of individuals as he begins listing them off. "Myself, Claire, Kris and Melissa…" then comes a photograph of a green eyed man with short cropped hair, "Francois Allegre, non-evolved," then a photograph of a perky looking blonde-haired woman with deep red lipstick, "Daphne, she's apparently got some kind of super-speed… and Magnes."
Sifting through the papers, Peter's trying to find the lists of the other team members.
Like others, Ash's arrival prompts a glance in his direction from Melissa, before she stiffens and her gaze zooms right back to the map. Clearly though, she isn't happy to see the man. Nor to hear Magnes's name mentioned, but that just gets a mild grimace while Ash gets completely ignored as though he doesn't exist. "Yeah, Daphne's got super speed. I've never seen anyone or anything move as fast as her. She's just a blur when she runs, which is often. If negation gas isn't used, she'll probably be the best way to get the captives out unharmed. Don't suppose we have any suits like the ones the Institute wears? No idea if she could run in one of them, but if she could…"
Francois's picture is looked to next, and her expression first softens, then goes fierce. Oh yes, she's going to be going in. "Francois is…" On edge? Enjoying playing with guns too much right now? She shakes her head slightly and looks back up and shrugs. "He'll do the job," is all she says finally.
"So we go in via the roof and what, head down, find the captives, and get the fuck outta dodge before we blow the place?"
Worryingly enough, Gabriel's hand goes out to touch the tips of his fingers to the corner of Daphne's photo, skidding it around to glance her profile over from right side up. She's dismissed a second later, mouth twisting in a slight smirk at the mention of Magnes somehow wrangled into things. If Gabriel has a judgment for all of this teamwork, he keeps silent for now, awaiting the next list of names as if this was somehow a part of his decision to join in or no.
The mention of Magnes earns a scowl for Ling, always with something to say on anything. "Varlane?" she intones with a bit of disbelief. "That boy is a child, are you sure he can handle something as delicate as this?" Her eyes are narrowed piercingly at Peter, the look on her face clearly relaying how little she approves of this idea. The mention of Ferrymen and other players involved grabs her interest, but means little to her so far - at least until more properly briefed on what they are capable of.
There is a grimace from Claire at the mention of Magnes, head dropping briefly, before she straightens. "Are you really sure you want him there beyond getting us in there?" She murmurs, not looking at all happy about the situation. "Is he going to do the job? Or am I going to be dealing with him, trying to rescue me… or stop me from doing what he doesn't like?" Her voice is gravely and extremely bland. She glances between Peter and Rupert, brows lifting a bit. "Last thing I need is him swooping in at the wrong time." Her tone says she's certain it'll happen.
There is no comment on Endgame being there, but the ex-cheerleader is relieved to have them there, even if the last time Claire and Cardinal talked, it didn't go too well.
Ling may be Messiah's cold hard bitch now, but at one time there had to be someone before her- Huruma was close enough. Lately she's been in a terribly sour mood.
She remains sitting quiet on the opposite side of the table for the longest time, up until her patience- and awful mood- grates with the severe lack of faith in the guy that is essentially their way into the top of the hospital. Personally, she gives Magnes a wide berth. Personally, however, she also knows him to be capable of a job- capable of duty. It wins out, and she strikes figuratively out at the nearest scapegoat. It happens to be Ling, seated unawares nearby.
Tactical meetings should never be boring. Ever. Huruma moves like a hornet, leaning up out of her seat, planting one hand on the table, and snarling madly towards the Chinese woman- it looks for all the world that she's going to just lunge over the table. Meanwhile, in Ling's head, her prior complacence and irritation is replaced wholly with a startling, bone-jarring fright. When faced with over two-hundred pounds of venomous serpent, perhaps some of that is naturally made. But, the attack never comes, and instead, Huruma is looming there, lips pulled back and breath a hiss.
"Ungrateful shrew. Mind your tongue, lest I tear it from your mouth."
"There won't be much delicate about what I have Magnes— Huruma!" Peter's tone sounds like someone shouting at a cat that's sharpening its claws on the new furniture. Unfortunately for Peter, he just swapped out his negation ability for regeneration, which leaves him ill equipped to handle one very ornery empath.
There's a warning look from Peter to Huruma, then around the room to see if anyone else is going to cause trouble as he squares his jaw and furrows dark brows to crease at his forehead. Unaware of the fright instilled upon Ling, it's just the words that Peter is aware of, save for the ghost-white complexion that Ling now holds.
Breathing in deeply through his nostrils, Peter looks to Rupert for guidance and— Rupert— isn't in the room anymore?
Standing in the doorway of the office and having gotten up and out of his chair with the speed of a scolded Pomeranian, Rupert is watching from a perceptively safe distance with fingers steepled in front of his mouth and an unusually expectant expression on his face.
Indeed, Ling's face is ghost white, the Chinese woman's eyes wide with fear as she very uncharacteristically slinks down in her seat, attempting to scoot her seat back and only succeeding in attempting to bend her injured leg the wrong way, eliciting a restrained yelp of pain and a string of curses let loose in Chinese. "«What the devil is happening?»" she intones, shaking visibly - she knows exactly when the last time she felt this frightened was, and the memories that brings forth are not helping
There's a look of agreement on Melissa's face at Ling's opinion of Magnes. But then Huruma is jumping in, and Melissa's standing, shifting closer to Ling and putting a comforting and protective arm around her shoulders. Only part of the Chinese spoken is made out, thanks to lessons via Ling and Mel's own study, but it's enough to have her shaking her head slightly and giving a gentle squeeze. The yelp of pain is one she's more familiar with, and quickly the cause for it is negated. With the touch, it's easy enough for Mel to manage.
When she looks to Huruma, her gaze is cold and steady. She isn't afraid of the other woman. More, she looks disdainful. "Magnes is a child in many ways, and however competent he may be, Ling is entitled to her own opinion. And we have more important things to discuss tonight than defense of someone's reputation, and I, for one, would like to know exactly what I'm getting into."
She turns to look at Peter, giving the impression of dismissing Huruma. "Please, continue. Will Magnes be joining us in the job itself, or just providing transportation? Also, do we know where in the hospital the captives are being held, and do you have a spare map that I could study to familiarize myself with the layout?" she asks, in as calm and mature a tone as she can manage at the moment. Which isn't easy, given she just wants to let loose on Huruma. Luckily, she can't cause and take pain at once, and taking Ling's wins over causing Huruma's.
Ash listens to everything everyone is saying, but he's remaining silent for once, his eyes partially closed as he absorbs everything being said all around him, people's opinions, connections, friends, allies, plans, all of it. He lifts a hand, finger nails scritching through the slight stubble on his chin. His eyes go to Ling when she protests against Magnes, a nod of agreement from him, then another one to Claire before his eyes come back to Peter leveling his gaze on him. "If he causes problems, I will hunt his ass down afterwards and put a bullet in his skull. And you know that I will." He states simply to the leader of Messiah, and considering Peter had to stop him from doing it once, it's not likely he can do so again. He turns his head, watching Huruma react, and then Peter react to that, an eyebrow lifting upwards slowly at Hoom's reaction. His body has gone relaxed, and ready, no tension in him as his eyes traverse the room. Eyes glance to Melissa as she responds as well before his head turns and his eyes come back to Peter, settling there securely.
Woo. Smell that. Fear hits Gabriel and it smells a lot like— cookies in an oven, burning ones, sweetness and acid and mineral and gets his blood going, laces his blood with adrenaline. He reacts by retracting, as put off by the tangles of social interaction as he is fascinated by influencing them, but it's not his show, and he feels like he could break the table in half just by looking at it. His head shakes like a dog loosing water from its fur, and then—
He disappears, vanishes in the blink of an eye. A newly acquired power put to questionable use.
As the group unravels a bit, Claire goes still watching everyone… more then anyone else, the regenerator watches Huruma. Ready to move in front of her former team mate. Mainly, cause she knows all too well what that woman can do.
Claire does, however, nod her head in Ash's direction, eyes coming off of the empath long enough to look at Peter. "I am behind Ash taking Magnes out if he gets in my way like he's bound to do." Her head turns a bit more to seek out the cowardly Rupert and adds. "I don't like him there… at all, but you know that won't stop me from doing my job." Her gaze drifts back to Peter. "Just make sure he knows, I'm not interested in his heroics."
Huruma is all too aware of the unsettled aura she causes, in both her target and the others. She faces Melissa with an equally unimpressed look, teeth clicking and breath siphoning through them. This isn't going to end up like a similar meeting back in December, no. That was another story, this is only the African woman being on edge and in a fussy mood. Silly things like the topic of Magnes are not so silly when she's like this. Huruma leans back and sinks like a velvet curtain down into her chair again, as if nothing had happened save for a stern frown of her lips.
Perhaps as an afterthought, her eyes turn over towards Rupert, past the rest of them, putting her attention squarely on one of the few people that haven't been driving her (more)crazy. Then again, maybe she is silently asking if he has a problem.
Peter startles when Gabriel disappears, brows furrowed and expression still a scowl. He does unwind some of that tension though when Melissa moves to Ling's side and when it doesn't look like Ash is going to leap into a knife-swinging frenzy (not for any good reason but just because Ash looks like he could do that at any moment most of the time). Straining a sigh, Peter pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose and looks back to the map.
"Magnes won't be a problem, and if he makes himself one, that's his problem not mine." Dismissive, but Peter's patience has drained from the herding of cats going on in the meeting. "The exterior team is getting Gabriel, Knox, Riggs and Rickham with West as aerial support and Rebel running electronic countermeasures. I have no idea how many people the Ferry and Cardinal's people are comitting to it, but— I figure numbers are going to be large there. It's everyone that isn't going inside, I may funnel some more people from Messiah into that scenario if it looks to thin."
Finally having sorted the photographs out from the folder, Peter begins elaborating on the other team. "The team coming up from below the hospital consists of Ling, Harrison, and Lacombe. From the other groups we have," and Peter throws down a photograph of a square jawed man with salt and peppered stubble, dark hair and sunglasses, "Jensen, non-evolved ex-military," a photograph of a dark-skinned young woman in a black hooded sweatshirt, "Monica, she… mimics things she's seen physically done. Kind of like Cat with memories, but— kickboxing and stuff. She used to be in Phoenix I think." Then there's a photograph of a severe-looking blonde with her hair in a ponytail. "Niki Sanders, superhuman strength," and his eyes linger on the picture for just a moment longer before furrowing his brows and looking askance. "I didn't snap a picture of Cardinal, but I think most of you know him."
Closing the folder, Peter looks up and around the room. "The primary goal is getting in, rescuing captives and escaping. We're going to bring the building down from below after the extraction teams pull out. Rebel is going to comandeer a Predator drone from an air-force base north of New York City and fly it down to bomb the building from the sky. We'll flatten the entire area down to the ground. I don't want a repeat of Pinehearst and anything getting out."
Then, crossing his arms over his chest, Peter looks to Huruma, then Ash. "You're the only two that I haven't placed yet. You have two options, to either get involved on the front lines at the exterior field, or put up a case for going in on the interior assignments. Huruma, I have a request of you if you'd entertain it?" One of Peter's brows lift slowly. "I'd like you to stay with the Ferrymen at a field hospital they've arranged for us. Ideally I want to have some sort of Messiah presence their to ensure security, and you're the best person I know when it comes to fighting in the woods, and also controling crowds."
Ling is slowly recovering from the sudden shock of fright she's just received, breathing heavy, eyes still rather wide, though thankful she no longer feels that shooting pain in her arm. Hands finally loosen a tight grip they had on the arms of her seat, eyes closing momentarily as she tries to regain herself, her composure, and her being. Words float around her, and she really only snaps back to reality when she hears Peter mention her name alongside Harrison and Lacombe, eyes opening to a narrow once more.
Coughing, she awkwardly sits back up, a hand raised to her chest. She's going to try her best to pretend that never happened, though she's clearly still shaking a little. "A-And I figure we're more than simple search and rescue?"she asks in reference to her job, leaning forward a bit. "I'm afraid I don't know this Cardinal. But that's a matter you and I can tend to later."
When Huruma sits, Melissa relaxes, just a wee bit, and glances down at Ling to make sure the woman is okay. The pain suppression is kept though, even when Mel moves back to her seat. The pictures don't get any sort of recognition from her, except for Jensen. That actually gets a hint of a smile. Then she's frowning and looking up at Peter. "Just what, besides Institute people and the captives, do you expect could get out?" She drops the issue of the maps, instead going back to studying the one in front of her. The pictures don't matter so much, since they won't be on her team, but it's still good to know who's on your side.
Ash looks to Peter and he nods his head slightly ot the man. "I was wanting to go where I'd be needed, to which I wanted to speak to you and find out." He shrugs his shoulders, and goes quiet again, the man not happy about something, but then, when is he usually in a good mood?
"You say that as if it is a bad thing, Peter." Huruma comments, lifting the edges of her brows when he, for some reason, emphasizes forest. "I so adore crowd control." Though when she says this, she smiles across the room directly at Rupe. He knows why. She links one knee over the other, lounging.
"I daresay that I am a good substitute f'morphine too. I'll b'there, at th'field hospital. Though given it is a Ferry triage, here's t'hoping none of them hold me in ill favor." The last thing she needs is to get into it with Medics.
"If you want me to place you, Ash, it'd be outside. That team is going to be dealing with the National Guard on top of Stillwater Securities mercenaries. It's going to likely be a bloodbath out there, and you're one of the best fighters Messiah has. I know I already put Gabriel out there, but I cannot stress how important it is you keep security and the military off of the hospital entirely, otherwise the rescue teams would be crushed."
Flicking a look to Ling, Peter looks momentarily disquieted, and instead answers Melissa's question. "Weaponized viruses, drug, any kind of sick research being done there. You know what the Institute is capable of, what kind of monstrous things they do, I don't even need to keep going. Your imagination can fill in the rest…"
But what's at the heart of Peter's worry finally comes to the surface. "I found out that the Hospital went dark a few days ago. The Institute… lost control of it. The people they have there, Doctor Bao-Wei Cong, Dmitri Gregor— they've apparently turned the entire hospital into some sort of petrie dish for their experiments. The Institute… sent in a security team, and they never came back."
Peter's dark eyes address the map again. "We have intelligence from one of Cardinal's people who has a remote-viewing ability, and she says that at least Gillian is still alive. As far as I know they have Gillian, Noriko Amagi — who I think some of you know as Candace Allard, Lynette Rowan, and Teodoro Laudani as captives, along with an untold number of other people we don't have names for. We might be retrieving corpses, but— we have to try. We also have to make sure that Cong and Gregor don't make it out of that place alive."
Licking his lips, Peter looks over to the doorway where Rupert stands, smoking his cigar, then looks back around the room again. "It's not going to be easy, or clean, but this is what Messiah was made for."
Ling's expression shifts at the mention of Bao-Wei, from fear to the closest thing Ling can feel to rage. She leans forward, fingers digging into the table. Peter likely knows what she's thinking, but she doesn't vocalise it in the hopes of keeping this meeting going smoother than it had been, after the derailment her last outburst caused. But it's easy to tell that which ever team is planning to encounter him, she wants in… or she's finding him herself.
The examples given have Melissa grimacing and looking, perhaps, a little sick to her stomach. But she nods at the explanation. "We have any pictures of Cong or Gregor? I assume that they're shoot on sight, and if they're using this hospital as their little playground, I wanna know who they are as soon as I see 'em." But she remembers Cong's name, and she gives the woman a sympathetic look, even pats her shoulder lightly.
Ling's eagerness has Peter taken aback, but knowing that Bao-Wei is somewhere in that building has him swallowing down whatever awkwardness he may have had. "Nothing recent, no. I've heard— stories that something happened to Cong, some kind of transformation. But— I don't know how true it is. There's no telling what kind of experiments they'd done in there though. So… I just don't know."
Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Peter looks down to the map in a moment of frustrated silence. "Alright," he intones with a breathy pause between the end of that word and the beginning of the next, "you all have your assignments." Looking askance to Rupert who is already on his way down the stairs and out of the meeting room. It's easy for Peter to see that Rupert looks unusually spooked today, whatever he did before coming here must still be sitting awkwardly with him.
Furrowing his brows, Peter turns to look back at the group surrounding the table, then breathes out a slow sigh through his nose. "We move to get organized just before sunset tomorrow, then meet up on the Greenbelt with Ferrymen and the Endgame operatives to get into position before moving on the facility. If any of you think of a problem at the last minute, let Rupert know. I won't be back until we go into action, I have something I need to handle personally."
Setting down the red dry erase marker on the map, Peter turns to look where Gabriel was sitting, then starts heading for the door. "If anyone needs me I'll be downstairs for a little bit looking for Sasha. I need to give him his assignment."
Rupert may be spooked, but something's eating away at Peter. That's probably why he's not staying here tonight, and instead going back to the one person he needs to confide in before going into a war head on.
Going to see Abby is kind of like going to see a priest, right?