The Kill Squad


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Also featuring:

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Scene Title The Kill Squad
Synopsis Sabra delivers a belated Christmas present… or maybe it's an early New Year's present… to a select group of agents. They're all quite thrilled.
Date December 30, 2008

Primatech Research: Secure Conference Room

It's a lovely winter afternoon in New York — cold, still, but the sun is actually shining… anywhere but here. This particular conference room is located at the heart of the Bronx facility, and has no windows. It's a room that sees relatively little use; other rooms are used for routine meetings. This one is used for secure, confidential, important things.

It should therefore come as no surprise to any of the agents summoned here today that the Haitian is stationed just inside the room's door.

Most of the long conference table that dominates the room is empty; only four seats have file folders on the tabletop before them. Well, discounting the chair occupied by Sabra at the head of the table and the bundle of notes which threatens to escape her folder. A man with short dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses occupies a sixth seat. Oddest of all, Ashton is nowhere in evidence.

There is a light rap on the door before Rami enters in his usual slim-tailored suit and stylish, yet forgettable tie. When he spots the file folders and catches the air of secrecy that hangs in the room, he knows better than to ask what this is all about. No doubt they'll all know soon enough. "Sabra," He says with a nod. He glances to the figure of the Haitian and gives the man a nod as well.

Gwendolyn walks in with Hugh — she seldom gets to participate in day to day functions with him nearby, though it's become increasingly more common just on the office level. The Haitian gets another serviceable nod. "Ma'am." she greets crisply. "Agent Hollingwood." With that, she takes her seat, crossing one leg over the other and eyeing the files resting on the table.

Hugh is in his usual impeccably tailored suit, though the blue eyes are twinkling merrily, like he's been told the best secret ever just now. "Ma'am, Agents," he says, offering nods to those present, as he seats himself next to his wife.

The last to enter is one Agent Bryan Buckley, who claims the remaining folder-marked space at the table.

Sabra greets each agent with a smile and a return nod as they enter. "Thank you all for coming," she begins once they're seated. "I apologize for the hush-hush meeting, but you know how business is," the elderly lady continues, her face crinkling in a smile. But the warm expression soon morphs into something more neutral. "I have… an offer for all of you. And Elle Bishop, as well, but she couldn't be here today. It is purely voluntary, but— " Sabra nods towards the door, and the silent figure beside it. "— in the interests of security, if you leave, you won't remember what was discussed here."

Rami nods to the Wickham couple, with a more pointed one to Hugh since they haven't been formally introduced. Then once he's seated, he looks to Sabra as she speaks. The Haitian is given a look, but then his attention's back to the woman at the head of the table. He can't help but wonder if he's actually been to one of these clandestine meetings before and just doesn't remember. "Of course," but he doesn't say more than that. He'll wait until the proposal is on the table.

Gwendolyn simply inclines her head. She accepts the whole memory loss thing in the event of, as a fact of life in the espionage business. Which this is. Sort of.

Hugh arches red brows inquiringly, but remains rather impassive and bland. "Understood, m'am'," he adds, quietly. Rami gets a reflexively rakish grin, but the intros can wait until after business is concluded, apparently.

True, except for one introduction. Sabra smiles briefly at those assembled, then nods in the direction of the unfamiliar man. "With us today is Senior Agent Gael Cruz. Last year, at the behest of Homeland Security, he collected a group of agents and ex-military and formed them into a unit called the 'Kill Squad'." The sidelong glance Sabra gives her associate suggests she finds that name just a bit trite, but he doesn't so much as twitch in acknowledgment.

"This unit specializes in handling the most difficult Evolved, working in tandem with Homeland Security. HomeSec is of the opinion that the current members are too few in number to adequately fulfill the demands on their time, and so I have been asked to select agents with whom to expand the squad." A flicker of a smile. "That would be all of you."

"On record, there is no distinction between the Kill Squad and normal agent duties. In practice, there are several differences of note. Normal partnering rules do not apply within the squad; you all work together, or not, as suits your mission. You may second any other agents to assist with your missions as needed, but you may not brief them on the mission without my authorization. Missions will generally be higher-risk in nature; you will not be doing normal 'bag-and-tag' operations. On the other hand, as the unit name indicates, you have inherent authorization to use 'any means necessary' in virtually all situations. You will also be working far more closely with Homeland Security and SCOUT than is normally the case."

"Well now," says Rami. "That sounds like a fascinating opportunity. I'm in. You know I'm not precisely afraid to get my hands dirty." He flashes a smile. A sharklike smile. He's a man who is used to taking out terrorist leaders and political opponents with sniper rifles or piano wire as the situation warrants. Murder is not foreign, and he's had an itchy trigger finger lately.

Gwendolyn's eyes flick briefly sidelong at Hugh, she's pretty damn sure that he just psychologically reverted to the eight year old boy who just got the shiniest new bike on the block on Christmas Day. Which is fine, because she just became the girl on the block who actually got the pony she asked for. Perhaps it is not coincidence that Sabra bears a striking resemblance to Mrs. Claus. And speaking of, Gwen looks back at their fearless leader. "I'm for it." she says simply. "Will HomeSec and SCOUT be abreast of our status? How are we to present ourselves?"

Hugh is literally licking his lips in eagerness, like a pit bull suddenly handed the key to the butcher shop. Don't you throw me in that briar patch, Br'er Fox. But he puts on a demure expression, or the next best thing he can manage. "I'm in, as my better half has made her decision," he says, sitting up in his seat. Gwen, ah, she's right.

Sabra smiles as most of the agents give various versions of the same response. "Officially, you will be attached to Homeland Security and operate under their authority. They will provide new badges and a higher clearance level reflecting this change." A pause, and Sabra nods towards the table. "The folders contain briefs on previous missions and tactics of the Kill Squad, along with the details on what your new status entails. Senior Agent Cruz— " She nods in his direction. "— and Sean Fallon, the leader of the other Kill Squad, will be here for the next two weeks, to give you all a refresher course in teamwork. Among other things."

"Teamwork," says Rami. The world rolls around on his tongue as he smiles wide. "Now that will be new." He chuckles, then glances round the table to the other members. He can't help but wonder why they were all chosen. Perhaps there's more wolves in the Company than he thought.

Gwendolyn looks pleased, and says in a soft tone, "With all due respect Sabra, I'd be dreadfully pleased to work with a team I can trust…as opposed to a partner I'd worry about shooting me in the back of my head the moment my back was turned." Gwen's still embarrassed by the whole Niki/Jessica debacle. Not a bright spot in her career. "Hugh and I are accustomed to team ops, but refresher training never hurt anyone, and I'm always eager to learn something new."

It's so Christmas Day for Hugh. This is almost as good as Gwen in the silk stuff he got her for the holidays. He's really struggling to maintain the grave demeanor a seasoned veteran of many little brushwars should have when being briefed by his superiors, but there's that manic fox's gleam in the pale eyes. "Of course," he says, suavely.

Sabra smiles at the agents, even despite Gwen's mention of that episode. Which was a bright spot in no one's career. "I'm glad to hear it. Then — unless any of you have further questions? — I will let you all go read."

Senior Agent Cruz clears his throat. "Training will start in two hours. We'll meet at the Level 2 gym."

Rami's smiling. He's not trying to contain it like Hugh is. This is something he knows. Bag and tagging doesn't quite bring the same adrenaline rush. "Well. Quite the way to start the new year."

December 30th: Fear is a Killer
December 30th: I Dream of Skippy
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