Participants:
| Scene Title | The Bigger Picture |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Adam stops by the Linderman Building to confront his former disciple with some pressing questions. |
| Date | May 28, 2009 |
Linderman Building — Linderman's Office
It's getting dark as can be seen by the fading light of the window outside. As Daniel Linderman heads into his office to finish off some work in the day, he gets a rather odd feeling, a feeling of 'something not quite right'. After a moment of looking around, he will notice Adam, sitting comfortably on a couch and drinking a glass of water. Adam sets the glass down and says, "Hello, Daniel. We should talk."
Linderman lingers in the doorway, his thick shape filling its frame. Blue eyes survey the office as if to ensure everything else is as he left it, minus one immortal Englishman seated upon his leather chaise, and then allows them to settle on Adam, gaze growing steely. His cheeks flush red beneath his beard. "Yes," he says, stepping further into the office though he does not close the door behind him, "let's start with Mister Kaito Nakamura, shall we?"
Adam arches a brow for a moment at the suggestion, "Kaito? What is it we should start with Kaito for, Daniel?" he questions, "Is there any real question as to what happened there?" he leans forward, "No, I think we would be best fitted for discussing you and what you're doing." then looking upon the man again, "And what you've done."
"What I've done," Linderman repeats. There's an almost sardonic echo in his tone, voice hollow, uncharacteristically gruff. "I can't say that I'm particularly interested in that line of conversation if it's going to end with the point of a sword in my heart." He moves around the chaise, never taking his eyes off Adam, not even as he circles his desk and comes to stand behind his chair, both his large hands resting upon its high back. "Close to a year on the outside, and you haven't already familiarized yourself with what I've accomplished in your absence? Don't be coy."
Adam leans back a bit in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he considers Daniel. Eventually, he says, "Well…I was more wondering why my favored disciple, the one I trusted above all others, let me rot in Level 5 for thirty years. Why don't we start with that?"
It's one of those questions that, in spite of its inevitability, Linderman still doesn't have an answer for — or if he does, he doubts it's one that Adam will find appropriate. "Holocausts. Plagues. Punishing humanity so that we might somehow save the world. When it comes down to it, I'm a pragmatist — I can't, in good conscience, follow a man whose view is so Biblical in scope that he's crippled by his own God complex."
Adam tilts his head thoughtfully. He's quiet for some moments, "And yet…" he says gently, "And yet…while I don't have all the pieces…this bombing of New York City has your fingerprints all over it…or should I say mine?" he pauses, "Was it you, Daniel?" he asks, "And if so…aren't you quite the Judas Iscariot."
A slight smile crooks at the corner of Linderman's mouth, neither an affirmation nor a denial. His grip on the chair tightens, arthritic knuckles popping audibly under the strain. "Some sacrifices are necessary," he concedes after a prolonged moment of uncomfortable silence. "You always did stress the importance of planning for the long term."
Adam continues his study of Daniel quietly. He nods for some moments after the response. His head dips a little in thought before he says, ,"And what now?" he questions, "I always told you to look towards the big picture, where are you in it? It appears things are happening quite quickly around you."
"It's nothing a spry young thing like myself can't keep up with," Linderman assures Adam without even the faintest trace of mirth. "My condolences about Trina, by the by. I only wish there had been something I could have done." He steps away from the chair and pulls it out from the desk, sinking into the seat. His weight causes the furniture's joints to creak, wheels to squeak. "I did try to look out for her, you know. Introduced her to a nice chap shortly after your incarceration. They've two children together, a boy and a girl. Perhaps you'd like to meet them?"
Adam glances up at that. He's quiet for a moment before he shakes his head, "Don't know why I would." he says in response. He watches Daniel, "What's with this Linderman Act nonsense?" he questions, "Why make it easier for the government to track? Our goal was to protect Evolved from the government."
"As times change," explains Linderman, "so do tactics, strategy." He folds his hands atop one another, fingers interlaced. "Angela and I were both in agreement that the Company lacked the resources to contain the situation for much longer. The Russians were aware of us before we were, and the Nazis even earlier than that. Try to think of the Linderman Act as a method of damage control. I do."
Adam lets out a quiet sigh, "Daniel, Daniel." he says gently. He considers him, "And what of Arthur? Do you work with Arthur, or do you study his moves from a distance as you try and compensate for his actions?"
Linderman leans forward in his seat. "The latter, though I'll admit that's more Angela's arena than mine. My ties to the Company these days are loose at best." He regards the other man from beneath bushy white brows. "Would you be so disinterested in Trina's children, I wonder, if they were yours?"
Adam frowns at Daniel's insinuation of the children. His brows furrow for a moment and he's clearly hit a raw nerve. He stands, suddenly, "I've got what I want for now." he says. "But I'll be seeing you again Daniel, soon." he's quiet for some moments, "Don't take that as a threat. I've no plans for that, yet." he simply makes his way to the door, "Talk to you soon, Daniel."
Linderman waits until Adam is gone, his retreating footsteps having dwindled into nothing, and even then he does not breathe a sigh of relief. Instead, he picks up the phone and cradles the receiver between his chin and shoulder as he punches in an extension number. A moment later, a tinny voice picks up on the other end of the line. "Miss Moore," he murmurs into the mouth piece, "schedule an appointment between myself and Mister Zarek. Tell him that if he wants to keep his job, and his skin, he'll meet me at my office immediately…"
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