The Friendly One


jane2_icon.gif katie_icon.gif

Scene Title The Friendly One
Synopsis One DoEA goon calls in the assist of another in an ongoing investigation.
Date January 5, 2011

26 Federal Plaza

"Sorry I'm late," are not words that Agent Katie Sebastian is super known for saying, and indeed, it practically pains her to admit that she was in any way tardy — but it needs to be said, as Agent Jane Pak has been waiting for something like half an hour since they agreed over phones to meet in the waning afternoon. "The traffic from the airport to here was a disaster. People flying back to the big city after family Christmases, I guess." And it's altogether too likely that Katie hasn't been out of town for any so personal a reason, raking her fingers through her hair as she stalks into the brightly lit meeting room reserved for just her and Jane. She shuts the door behind her, and skims a look over the table top.

Documentation is everything. Cases that extends for years, tracking the progression of individuals, although Elisabeth Harrison's history has been reasonably bland for the time she's spent in FRONTLINE, reports of her work obtained by favours through one Adrianne Lancaster for the purposes of investigation but yield nothing terribly exciting. Or maybe she just could not get the exciting ones. But before that, there are reports as penned by the now infamous Vincent Lazzaro at Jane's fingertips.

Homework. Read and think. A police officer deemed unsuitable for the force by a former internal affairs officer, yanked into a task overseen by the DHS, the details of which Jane could find nowhere, and then launched into a steadily rising career as FRONTLINE's finest.

Still, it doesn't end with Elisabeth Harrison — it's just not a bad beginning. Katie pulls a chair out at the large table, sitting herself down and looking only vaguely tired — too professional to actually show her heart on her sleeve, and her smile towards Jane is shiny and only a little bland. "Thanks for letting me pull you into this investigation at such short notice," she says, smooth the sit of her business like jacket where there's a flash of her badge at her belt, now obscured by the edge of the table that separates them. "I suppose you might be wondering why Intel and Analysis is getting you to play watchdog."

Looking up from her spot as the door opens, Jane Pak doesn't even take her feet down off the desk. Not yet, anyway. But that she isn't uptight and ceremonial has always been just part of her charm. "Hey, there you are. Don't worry about being late, it isn't often I get to take that long a break," she says with a playfully tilted smile. Indeed, it does seem like the wait was used to sneak in a meal, which is probably better than her munching her way through the meeting.

At that last remark, though, Jane tilts her head a bit, "It isn't my traffic-stopping good looks, I image." And that's when her feet come down to rest on the floor, so she can fold her arms on the table as she lifts an eyebrow over at Katie.

It's okay, that Jane isn't uptight and ceremonial. Katie has this in spades.

Enough that she doesn't even seem that bothered by Jane's lack save for a slightly more easy smile when feet do come down off the table, pushing blonde hair over her shoulder and raising one to shrug. "No, unfortunately we want you for your skills and expertise as a thinker. Sorry, that's what feminism has done to us." Spoken so neatly that it's difficult to detect any humour in her tone for all that there is at least a little in her words, Katie more occupied with lacing her hands together and considering how to begin.

"I'm currently tasked with investigating what makes a detective called Christopher Nash throw away his career to fake the registry entries for a few key Evolved. We currently have all of his registrants flagged to show up in the system should any of them be put in a position to be arrested or hospitalised and thus retested. We've connected exactly two out of three of these false registrants to Redbird Security, one of which, a programmer, Harrison commissioned to take a look at some hardware the Department loaned to FRONTLINE. Without telling anybody."

A subtle shrug. "Of course, Harrison had no prior knowledge of Chavez's Evolved status, is her official position. She's also admitted to having personal ties to the third false Registrant, Abigail Beauchamp, along with similar ties to the Security firm itself. Last thing to take into account is that she was Nash's partner for a time while she was on the force."

What a tangled web, says a subtle but expressive gesture of splayed fingers from Katie's clasp.

"Ah, well. The price we pay," Jane says to Katie's so very even response. She's choosing to see the joke, even if none was intended. Never can tell with this one. But as the story starts to unfold, Jane's contribution is a whistle at first. And then she leans back in her chair, hands coming up behind her head. "That's a lovely mess. Doesn't look too good for our gal Liz. Her official ties to Redbird?"

Standing, Jane starts to walk the room a little. Not really pacing so much as strolling. "And she's been questioned about all three false Registrants? What about the others at the security place?" Or rather, how much do they know about what we know.

Katie remains seated, but does deign to let her posture slacken some to lean back in her chair as Jane gets to her feet. "Her official ties with Redbird are currently severed," she says, and beneath the table, she folds one leg over the other. "This, she assured me when I gave her notice that we'd be investigating them. She's been asked to assist you in access to Redbird as well as any enquires you may have, and those sound like good ones to start with." Ivory teeth show in a quick smile.

"I also want to cross check their employees, past and present, against the list of Nash registrants and see if any others show up — I have some interns with not enough to do that you can use for the busy work. Now that we have Chavez, we have the greenlight to do so. We've also been— "

And Katie hesitates, her smile kind of tilting into ironic territory. "Instructed to maintain some surveillance on Harrison in her current field. For the benefit of our Department as well as a few outside favours. Your work with the DHS lends itself, I've been told."

"Yes, I've got Ingrid to toss at them, too." Interns, so useful, so versatile… "Yeah, my job let's me be pretty… flexible. I guess I'm going to be in Harrison's, well, hair for a while. She's been prepared, so at least I don't have to dance around over there. Always a plus." Jane pauses in her walk to look back over at Katie, her smile easier and wider by nature, "Does this mean I get to put on one of their suits and go out with the FRONTLINERs? Could be fun."

There's a somewhat frozen look in Katie's eye, like she's currently working out if Jane is joking or not, before a sort of 'hahaha' chuckle manages to break through robot processing and analysis, and manages: "I guess if they want you to like them." She pushes herself up to stand, and leans a hip against the side of the table, her arms folding across her chest. "It's also true that your career history, if they decide to look into it, casts a more sympathetic light than some of us in the Department.

"But no. No dancing required. Harrison knows she made a mistake. I think I've given you all the reading material possible, but if you have any questions, you have my number."

"Hey, that was almost a laugh, Sebastian," Jane says, complete with a pat to Katie's back, "Nice work." Although, whether she was joking or not, still a mystery.

"Yeah, I suppose my background makes me the friendly one in this situation," she says with a bit of a smirk, "I'll get to poking around over there, then. If anything comes up, I'll give you a call. For now, seems like I'm having a study session tonight. Always good to bone up before the exam." There is a bit of a nod toward all the files, before she extends a hand toward Katie. At least she can be proper to some degree.

Upon back pat, what occurs is the kind of smile that works in theory but comes from a place where molars could crack, the amount of pressure placed on them together. As business slides back into conversational place, Katie relaxes once more — which of course means she isn't smiling, just listening, before taking her weight off the desk and placing her hand in Jane's, a brisk up and down shake.

"Great. Happy digging." For more bones, presumably.

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