The Shield Of Aegis

Participants:

adelaide_icon.gif autumn_icon.gif corbin_icon.gif holly_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif michael_icon.gif minea_icon.gif mitchell_icon.gif f_nathan2_icon.gif tracy_icon.gif west_icon.gif

Scene Title The Shield of Aegis
Synopsis Press and Politics converge on Columbia University as the first public Press Conference for FRONTLINE is had.
Date August 26, 2009

Columbia University


Columbia University has been the site of too great a tragedy in recent weeks. The deaths of fourteen people in a violent attack by an Evolved terrorist on these very grounds was expected to delay an important meeting. But the irony of a press conference regarding the peace-keeping organization FRONTLINE was lost in the determination of the Petrelli administration and a refusal to allow fear and terror tactice cause something so iconic to the security of New York City itself to be squashed.

While safety reasons due to the background level of radiation in the area where Samantha Tanner was subdued by Homeland Security did move the event, it is perhaps for the best. On a sunny morning beneath the open and clear skies, the press conference has been moved to the steps of the Low Memorial Library. This whitewashed structure is fittingly Romanesque in design, with a row of ten ionic columns supporting its weighty roof and majestic dome.

A sprawling field of metal folding chars have been arranged for guests of honor of the meeting at the national press core, which are gathered towards the front. A group of four hundred watch from these seating arrangements, while public spectators observe from hundreds of yardas away behind barricades and National Guardsmen, FBI and Presidential security.

Between the centermost columns, a podium has been erected behind a wall of bulletproof glass whereupon the President of the United States and trusted cabinet members will be arriving shortly.

It is here in this place so reminiscent of a greek amphitheater — a place iconic for its birth of the ideal of Democracy — that a true test of the people's faith in the system is situated. Eventually, a balding gentleman in a charcoal suit steps up to the podium, the President's press secretary Daniel Schiff. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press and guests," his voice whines over the audio system arranged to project the speaker at the podium's voice across the spacious courtyard, "it is an honor to have you all gathered here today." Behind Schiff, a blue banner hangs with the seal of the Office of the President, flanked by two American flags — a suitably patriotic affair. "Sorry we're running a bit behind schedule, but I think you'd be a bit more shocked if something ran on time." An awkward injection of humor, arousing a few murmured laughs from the crowd.

"It's my honor to introduce the brainchild of the FRONTLINE project, Vice President of the United States of America, Andrew Mitchell." There's a rousing applause that rolls over the gathered crowd as an entourage of individuals emerge from the library; the head of which is a tall and broad-shouldered African-American man in a dark suit, his red tie crisp and so very Presidential looking. As he moves to the podium, a bald and squat man in a military dress uniform follows behind, with a dark-haired and much younger soldier in a US Marines uniform at his heels.

As Vice-president Mitchell takes the stage, he holds up his hands and flashes a charismatic smile that almost won him the presidency last fall. But second best, it seems, isn't that bad after all. "Members of the press, esteemed guests, I am so very honored to be here this morning to talk to you about FRONTLINE. A dream of security, hope, and prosperity for this city, and this nation."

As Mitchell begins his introduction, one man among the press core shifts awkwardly in his seat — a decade younger than half of the other reporters, dark hair comed down over his brow, suit a little too loose. He eyes his notebook in one hand, then up towards the Vice President. On his press badge, the irony of his alias may not be evident to everyone. But Rose Easton, at least, is amused by his own creativity.

It's gotten him this far.

"If it started on time I think the reporters from the Journal would have heart attacks," Corbin says softly with a lopsided smile toward the woman standing next to him, who wears a press badge just like him, and is standing in for his usual assistants. It might be surprising that he even managed to get this assignment, but there's always strings to pull. A notepad held in hand, a pen ready for quick notes, as the speaking begins he starts to take notes, with full realization that the opening pontificating could take a while. But some of it might be noteworthy, quotable even. Names and identifications are already being scrawled down. Though some have ??? next to them. Like the younger Marine.

"I think the politicians themselves would have heart attacks" Minea muses back to Corbin. GOne are the jeans and kakhi's and in is the pencil skirt and proper expensive clothing that she frankly hasn't worn in a while. Right down to the stiletto's that certainly cannot be run in. Good thing there won't be running. She's being nice, and actually doing the assisants job for Corbin. Earning that press badge. "Thanks for letting me join you. I promise, there's a reason" But then, back goes the attention to the front, and the important guests. She's looking for a suit, a military suit. A specific Military suit.

Press badge, Adelaide's here too, she's dressed nicely, but is almost a little weary. She has a pen and paper and looks at them expectantly to as if to write themselves as she sits on the metal chair. The small media was here to, Frontline of the frontlines. She presses her red rimmed glasses back ."If it started on time I'd think the world would collapse."

Holly isn't one to join in the jokes, although she gives a small chuckle at the goings on around her. She's too busy trying to get the best angle for her humble hand-held camera, depending on the simple in-built bayonet camera. She scolds herself, frowning a little at not having arrived earlier to get a better spot. That's how things go sometimes.

"When I first approached congress with the Frontline Act, people were skeptical. It was early 2008, and the world as we knew it was already so drastically different than it is today. I don't think, then, we had quite the idea of where we would be heading in terms of a political and social climate in both this city, and America as a whole." Resting his hands on either side of the podium, Mitchell gazes out over the crowd with a fond expression of success on his face.

"Originally, the Frontline Act was designed to be an evolved suppliment ot our standing military forces. But in light of attacks on American soil by Americans and foreign terrorists alike, we were forced to rethink the proposition. It was at this time I was introduced to General Sebastian Autumn, the man who refined the Frontline Act into the bastion of American civil defense that it is today. A security force, not unlike the National Guard, designed to suppliment the police force of American cities and towns, by bringing a tactical and strategic edge that only the evolved can offer to high-risk situations."

While Mitchell is speaking, Rose Easton shifts and fidgets in his seat, eyes shifting from one side of the crowd to another, checking his notepad again before looking back up to the crowd, eyes on everyone at the front of the stage. "But after a long period of refinement, deliberation and reaching across the aisles to cooperate with both Democratic and Republican representatives, we were able to forge the very shield that the finalized Frontline Act has become. My dream — the dream all people of America share — is security and safety within their homes, within their schools, within every facet of their lives. Up until now, and I have said this time and again, the United States Government was woefully unable to provide that protection, because we were fighting our battles without adapting to the times."

Looking to the far back of the press crowd, then sweeping his dark eyes over the front row, Mitchell offers another charming smile. "But that is what Frontline is, what Frontline represents." Television News cameras roll, capturing this historic press conference live, broadcast across the airwaves to countless homes across the world watching the moment history changes. "Frontline is America catching up to the paradigm of today and looking forward bravely to tomorrow." Mitchell's head bows, motioning towards the Library situated behind him. "With that said, it is my honor to introduce the President of the United States of America, Nathan Petrelli." And as Vice-President Mitchell finishes his introductory speech, the press and guests begin to rise from their seat as Mitchell moves away from the podium, to allow forth the leader of this very country.

"I figured," Corbin says in a much softer voice, meant only for the woman next to him. "You're not the type to ask for frivolous things." There's no more time for chitchat, though, cause his hand is moving, scribbling down words. True, he's got a recorder going, but recorders have a bad habit of missing things, or catching background noise, or even his own breath, so he relies a great deal on notes whenever he can. Notes don't run out of batteries. He's sure it will be streaming online for many hours as well, so he can double check. Standing up, he scribbles a few last words, before lowering his notebook to wait to see the president.

"Just don't forget to inquire about that whole draft thing" Whispered back to Corbin. Minea rises as well for the arrival of the president, one hadn neatly sweeping as she rises, under herself to smooth out any wrinkles. "Question as well, would this have gone forward if it had been Rickham who is standing there instead of the head of the Petrelli dynasty?"

Adelaide listens. She begins notating. "Right…" she murmurs. "The american vision… drafts for evolveds only.." she rolls her eyes, and begins adding notes and jotting down things though she doesn't actively speak yet, perhaps waiting..

Holly likewise keeps to herself, letting her camera roll and capture the events as they occur. She sighs softly, giving a bit of a roll of the eyes at the politicians and their ridiculous rhetoric. She takes a look around her, keeping her camera pointed as she takes in the 'real' journalists in the crowd, taking mental notes as to their own behaviors.

Nathan's smile is wide and giving, pearly white teeth on display as he approaches the podium with an affectionate hand out for Mitchell, gripping the man's upper arm in a comradely kind of gesture before he takes his place. Sunlight is bright and forgiving, and he wears a suit of executive shark grey, a clear white shirt, a dark red tie that shimmers like other crimson things in the sun.

He lets his gaze dance towards where Tracy Strauss is seated, pearls and all, a plastic smile on her face as she, in turn, glances to the young man seated next to her. One that's been told to behave. Lately, she's had her eyes on the President for different reasons other than opportunity lately.

"My fellow Americans, " are the first predictable three words out of Nathan Petrelli's mouth. "I thank you all for attending this conference, on this beautiful day. There has been a lot of talk about what we hope to achieve with Frontline, and soon it will be time to put those words into action to secure the freedom of the American people. As my good friend, Vice-President Mitchell has stated, the most important thing we can do in this difficult time is to adapt to our situation.

"Frontline is an evolution."

He glances back towards the other men situated before the press, before going on to say, "And now I'd like to introduce General Sebatian Autumn, a man I hold so much faith and trust in, and it's my hope that America will do the same." He extends a hand towards the other man to the sounds of applause, stepping aside.

Magnes is sitting there, eyeing the President occasionally, then Tracy, fidgiting with his black suit and tie. He tries his best to stay still, especially since he's likely getting warning nudges. He is nervous, and was not aware they'd be sitting… here!

It's like this at most press conferences, where one man introduces another, and then he introduces another, until the real speaker is finally put forth. In this case, it is the short and stocky frame of a pale, bald-headed man several years Nathan's senior. From the charcoal gray of his uniform and the medals, badges and decorations pinned to hi breast, it is obvious that the man approaching the podium has seen plenty of time on both sides of the battlefield — both on the field itself, and leading from behind a desk.

"Well, ah, good morning." He's not a public speaker, and his subtle and low-tone Texas accent rolls off of his tongue in a charming and grandfatherly way. "Now m'not quite the same type of big-note speaker that Mister President and Mister Vice President are, so m'gonna do what I do at most meetings, and that's cut straight to the facts before I open the floor up to the press."

Motioning behidn himself, General Autumn gestures to the dark-haired Marine in uniforn, hands folded behind his back, head down, a preoccupied look in dark eyes. "This is United States Marines Second-Lieutenant Michael Spalding, now most of you I know have heard his name around as the front pick for Frontline Unit One's leadershop position." He glances across to the press, "I wanted Michael here today so that you could all see the very face of Frontline. See that the people involved with it aren't some faceless figures of authority. See that we're all — at our core — American citizens who're working to protect our families and loved ones."

Folding his hands on the podium and leaning closer to the mic, Autumn's brows crease together as he looks out over the gathering. "Many of you here are curious about what Frontline is going to do, and I'll admit to most people trying to read the verbage in the Act itself can be sort've like a mouse tryin' to find his way around a maze." There's laughter from Autumn's words, and the relaxed nature the General brings to the floor eases the tense crowd. "But that's why we're here today, to assuage concerns and open up a dialogue about Frontline and its members." Autumn's brows raise, focus on the crowd.

"Now I'll admit, when then Senator Mitchell brought the proposition of Frontlien to my attention at the end of the last administration, I didn't know what t'make of it. Evolved soldiers aren't easy to come by, and there's only a handful in all'a the United States Military's respective branches. So I knew right then and there that it wasn't going to be enough for a full military reinforcing, which is how we get to where we are today, with one representative branch of Frontline being field-tested right here in New York City."

Autumn looks around the faces in the crowd, eyes settling on Tracy briefly, before a nod comes over him. "Now, m'not a man who likes to ramble on ahead of his time. So I'm going to take this opportunity to open the floor to questions from the press about Frontline to any of us up here. I ask that you keep your questions related to the Frontline Act and Unit One."

"Got a whole list of questions like that," Corbin says, grinning over at the woman beside him, though he's trying to write as well as he can. If anything he might be surprised at her words. "Maybe I should've discussed questions with you on the way over. You've probably got a few I don't." Michael Spalding. That name rings quite a few bells. It makes him flip forward til he finds his lists of questions, scribble a new one in, before going back to write down more quotes he's sure will also be on the internet for a while.

Immediately his hand goes up, waiting a moment for acknowledgment before he speaks up over the crowd, "As you said, General Autumn, Evolved in the Military's respective branches are difficult to come by. In what capacity, if any, will Non-Evolved supplement these Units?" Having trained and worked side by side with Evolved for many years (even if only the woman next to him knows it) he's got a pretty personal stake in this question.

Autumn grimaces when the first question is lobbed at him, but the softball pitch of the question eases his tensions. "Frontline is a support unit to any local or federal law-enforcement organization working within the boundaries of any particular Frontline Unit's sphere of influence. Despite being based out of New York City, Unit One's duties actually cover the entirely of New York State. As such, Frontline is the supplement, not the other way around, you see."

Resting his hands on the side of the podium, Autumn continues. "Local law enforcement will come into a situation where they require the military expertise and special evolved skills of Frontline's members, and will call on the team to arrive on scene. Frontline will take charge of the situation and defuse it to the best of their abilities, but I want to drive home this fact — they aren't a police force. They have no authority to enforce laws, nor should they. They are a military trained civillian strike force similar to the relationship of SWAT to local police, but they reinforce any civil or federal government law-enforcement organization."

Looking around the crowd, Autumn's brows furrows as he points out into the audience, "Yes you, next question."

"More than you could Imagine Corbin" Not so whispered and she listens to his question and then the subsequent answer that was offered up by the General. "No one of us one of them" That's not loud enough for anyone but Corbin to hear and Minea raises her hand next. Lucky enough for the General to gesture to her.

"Second-Lieutenant Spalding, is the sibling of the later Cameron Spalding who was the leader of the terrorist group PARIAH. How will this affect, do you believe, the credibility of FRONTLINE and it's popularity within the american populace - Their trust in who you've chosen to be the face of America's answer to terrorists"

Behind and to the side of General Autumn, Michael's eyes go wide at Minea's question, but Autumn quickly chimes in over the mic. "I'm sorry we're not answering any questions unrelated to the direct responsibilities of— " A hand is laid on Autumn's shoulder, Michael's. Several members of the President's staff begin pressing fingers to earpieces, watching with tightened sphincters as Michael steps forward and murmurs something to the General away from the mic, and eases in to the position.

"No it's alright I don't mind answering this." His voice is more unassuming than his stern demeanor would lend to. "I want to clear the air about this right here and now, right in front of America. My brother — Cameron — he had problems. We never saaw eye to eye, for our whole life. No matter what he did though, Cameron was my brother. I loved— I love him. No matter our differences, I always wanted to be there for him"

As Michael talks, his dark brows crease together, head dipping down slowly. "I was there, offering to get him help, counseling, the things he needed to come to terms with the world. But Cameron wasn't able to, he— he turned me and my father away. He made mistakes, terrible ones, that cost people lives. But I never stopped being his brother, and I never stopped wanting for him to change, to try and make amends. But I want to make this clear, here and now," Michael rests one hand down on the podium.

"I am not my brother, and while I will always love him, the bonds of family do not change the bonds of country. I swore to protect this nation, and I will continue to do so. I'm doing this not only for myself, for my country and because it's right, but because I want my actions to reflect on my brother. I want him, wherever he is, to watch down on me and let me be an example to the people. I want him to see— see that you can make a difference without coloring outside the lines. Cameron was a troubled man, but in the end he was family. I don't agree with what he did, but I won't ever stop caring about him. What the American people think of that— that's theirs to think— but it has not and will not ever affect my sense of duty."

Even Autumn's brows are raised by this point, giving a look back at Mitchell who's somewhat surprised yet smug nod of approval comes with a few slow claps that eventually resound through the media crowd. Autumn eases Michael back from the podium, feinting a smile before pointing out another reporter in the crowd. "Yes, next?"

Magnes' eyes narrow on Minea from his seat next to Tracy when she asks her question. He's sure he's seen that woman before… the woman who tased him and threw him in that trunk! She gets a really stern look, but he otherwise doesn't do anything. Embarassing Tracy, and by proxy, the President, would likely be bad.

The pretty girl holding the cheap little prosumer handheld camera clears her throat briefly, lowering her eye from the viewing screen before asking aloud, "What are your plans for this unit, in terms of growth and recruitment. Obviously there is a very finite number of registered Evolved at the moment, and only a few of those with military training."

Easing back into familiar territory, Autumn nods his head and gestures towards Holly. "As detailed in the wording of the Frontline Act, we're starting with a single five-man unit for New York based out of Brooklyn. There's a probationary period of three months before Frontline Unit Two is established in Boston Massachusettes, a month after that Unit Three will be initiated in Los Angeles, California." He nods his head slightly in thought, "Units Four and Five in Jacksonville, Florida and Langley, Virginia, will ultimately be pushed back to late 2010 while we search for valuable recruit, because — you're quite right — there just aren't enough Evolved soldiers to fill all of the niches. But, we're hoping that some incentive packages for Evolved citizens joining the military will help bolster that." Or, perhaps, he was counting on the Formula. Now, of course, General Autumn is forced to scramble for evolved soldiers he does not have.

"Once units Four and Five have gone active, there will be an additional three months probationary period, and then we're projectingan additional five states appointed in 2011, and complete nation-wide FRONTLINE support by 2014 or 2015."

Clearly and concicely answering her question, Autumn passes off a smile and waves his hand towards that dark-haired reporter in the crowd who stands up with a crooked smile. "We— Rose Weston, New Village Voice," he offers a grin to the General. "I was wondering if you could corroberate any information on speculation that the united States government was participating in the research of ability-boosting enhancement drugs produced by Pinehearst Company International prior to their dismantling last month, and that records from Pinehearst obtained by anonymous sources indicate that certain elements of the Pentagon were aware of— "

Autumn cuts him off right there, wide-eyed and dumbstruck, "I'm sorry but— we have to keep questions pertaining only to the direct actions of Frontline Unit One and its expansions, unless you have another— "

"But this is related, General. Were you or were you not planning on bolstering the ranks of Frontline using enhanced ordinary citizens, or perhaps chemically boosted Evolved soldiers to — " Once more, Autumn cuts Mister Weston off.

"I will not answer that question currently, next question please?" Autumn motions to someone else in the crowd, and Weston finally relents as Secret Service agents angle towards him, keeping an eye on his position. Cracking a smile, he settles back down in his seat and folds his hands. Mission accomplished there.

Easing back into familiar territory, Autumn nods his head and gestures towards Holly. "As detailed in the wording of the Frontline Act, we're starting with a single five-man unit for New York based out of Brooklyn. There's a probationary period of three months before Frontline Unit Two is established in Boston Massachusettes, a month after that Unit Three will be initiated in Los Angeles, California." He nods his head slightly in thought, "Units Four and Five in Jacksonville, Florida and Langley, Virginia, will ultimately be pushed back to late 2010 while we search for valuable recruit, because — you're quite right — there just aren't enough Evolved soldiers to fill all of the niches. But, we're hoping that some incentive packages for Evolved citizens joining the military will help bolster that." Or, perhaps, he was counting on the Formula. Now, of course, General Autumn is forced to scramble for evolved soldiers he does not have.

"Once units Four and Five have gone active, there will be an additional three months probationary period, and then we're projectingan additional five states appointed in 2011, and complete nation-wide FRONTLINE support by 2014 or 2015."

Clearly and concicely answering her question, Autumn passes off a smile and waves his hand towards that dark-haired reporter in the crowd who stands up with a crooked smile. "We— Rose Weston, New Village Voice," he offers a grin to the General. "I was wondering if you could corroberate any information on speculation that the united States government was participating in the research of ability-boosting enhancement drugs produced by Pinehearst Company International prior to their dismantling last month, and that records from Pinehearst obtained by anonymous sources indicate that certain elements of the Pentagon were aware of— "

Autumn cuts him off right there, wide-eyed and dumbstruck, "I'm sorry but— we have to keep questions pertaining only to the direct actions of Frontline Unit One and its expansions, unless you have another— "

"But this is related, General. Were you or were you not planning on bolstering the ranks of Frontline using enhanced ordinary citizens, or perhaps chemically boosted Evolved soldiers to — " Once more, Autumn cuts Mister Weston off.

"I will not answer that question currently, next question please?" Autumn motions to someone else in the crowd, and Weston finally relents as Secret Service agents angle towards him, keeping an eye on his position. Cracking a smile, he settles back down in his seat and folds his hands. Mission accomplished there.

Minea looks at Corbin, brows raised. Another murmur to her company comrade. "They were. That's the funny part. The funnier part? They made frontline already, they tested it out in Germany on a Vanguard remanent out there. This guy, this general, has hands deep in something, and dirty as hell Corbin" The woman watches the people on the stage. "Very// Dirty"

Well, now that was an interesting question. And interesting commentary. Corbin watches the out burst, then blinks a moment at Minea, with quite a frown. That puts a spin on things, but without evidence he doesn't dare ask a question like that. Scribbling of names occur, including the young man who asked a question, and his newspaper, before he looks back up through the special glass. This time, he addresses a different person.

"Mr. President," he says clearly, loud enough, even stepping forward a bit. There's been a lot of scribbling of quotes to be confirmed later based on other questions, many he had intended to ask in one form or another, but he knew he'd be lucky to get called on once, much less twice. "As you are the man who stood before the nation to reveal the truth of what occured in Manhattan on the day of your election, do you believe FRONTLINE will help prevent future Sylars— or other Evolved of equally dangerous abilities— from causing another disaster which would cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of civilians?" Like his mother and sister? Yes, certainly. "Or even smaller events, like what happened in this very location not too long ago? The Columbia 14?"

The President's back has gone ramrod straight throughout that last line of questioning to Autumn, but then again, the President /should// have good posture. He takes a sip of water from a sparkling clear glass, and Nathan's gaze swivels on over towards Corbin upon hearing his title, fingers linking together as he listens, taking a breath that makes his suit-clad shoulders rise and fall in a minute movement.

Nathan clears his throat, and allows his voice to carry; "Yes I do. The tragedy that occurred in Manhattan that day was something we knew we could not allow to repeat, and that was what drove me to stand before the world and reveal the nature of what happened, and it's one of the many motivations that, I believe, drove me to where I stand today. Frontline will act as one step towards preventing these disasters, fully equipped to handle Evolved threats that we were not equipped to do before."

"After what happened in 2006, what happened to the Columbia 14— " There's the faintest hitch of hesitation when he speaks those words. Emotion. Memory. Take the show as you will. "We owe it to our nation to see something like Frontline implemented." Another fleeting look is shared with Tracy from where she is seated, crow-feet lines at his eyes deepening in the kind of smile that flashing cameras can't pick up.

"And what of SCOUT?" Minea pipes up again. "We already have scout in implementation within the city and surrounding boroughs. What will the impact of Frontline be, on the officers and civilians who already do what frontline is proposing to do, day in and day out?" The Brunette watches the speakers all gathered up there. Oh the questions she wants to ask, emboldened by what she knows. Like, Mr, President, which do you prefer, time travel… or flying.

But Minea is a good agent, in fact, she's one of the three nameless homeland agents who stopped the woman responsible for the change in venue. "I'm sure the officers of SCOUT would dearly love to know"

Magnes is suddenly nudging Tracy on stage, looking out to Minea again briefly, then Weston. "Hey, Tracy, am I allowed to ask questions?" he asks in a whisper, because he totally misses the point of a press conference.

Autumn nods his head and makes a somewhat amused look across the way towards Press Secretary Schiff, then back to Minea. "I can't speak for the NYPD, but I will go out here and mention that SCOUT, as a program, was an initiative to epxlore the implementation of Evolved officers in Law Enforcement. SCOUT, however, is being phased out of service in favor of a more integrated department of Evolved law enforcement. But their role, overall, is different from Frontline. They do not do what Frontline is proposing to do. It is SCOUT's duty to enforce laws, arrest criminals, and handle evolved crimes."

Weighing his words with one hand, Autumn continues. "Frontline is not law-enforcement. They cannot arrest, detain or otherwise operate as law-enforcement personnel. They are strictly a strike-force designed for the neutralization of Evolved targets or high-risk situations where evolved abilities are necessary, not unlike SWAT. However they will answer the call of duty to any and all civilian and federal law-enforcement branch."

"I hope that clears up the misconception, but I cannot talk further on SCOUT's potential dissolution, that is a matter for Police Comissioner Karen Lau, and not truly in line with this realm of questioning, thank you." He motions to someone else in the crowd, "Yes, you in the front. And we'll only be taking two two more questions today."

"Such timing" Minea murmurs to Corbin. "With the death of the captain of the squad by the very woman I helped take down, means they don't need to find his replacement and they can focus on Mr. Spalding and his friends to be" Minea shakes her head, breathing in through her nose then letting it out slowly. "Go Corbin, do your worst. Make em sweat"

"You and me really need to have a talk," Corbin says quietly, glancing over at his companion. There's quite a bit that she seems to know that most certainly is NOT in his files. Does she have higher access than him? Or just different sources. It's making him very curious. "General, in regards to the disorder on Staten Island in recent years, does FRONTLINE have any plans to go in there and help law enforcement take control of the island again?"

"I was wondering if and when someone might ask that question." Autumn's fingers curl around the edges of the podium. "The situation with Staten Island is a delicate and dangerous one. There's an equal amount of law-abiding civillians living on that island as there are dangerous criminals. But the terrorist attack on the Verazanno-Narrows bridge is just one example of how letting that kettle stew is only going to cause us problems in the long run."

Autumn's head bobs into a nod. "However, that's merely my personal tactical assessment of the situation. Ultimately it falls to local and federal law enforcement to make the call to act on Staten Island, in what measures, and how soon. But regardless of whatever decision they do make, know that Frontline will be there with them the entire time assisting to the best of their capacity."

Autumn glances into the crowd, gesturing to someone as he adds, "You'll be our final question for the day."

Magnes suddenly clears his throat and stands up, likely to the horror of Tracy. Being someone on the stage, it probably seems a bit awkward, but he raises his hand and asks, "E-excuse me! I'm not sure if I'm supposed to ask questions, but I'm a new NYPD officer, and even while I was still in the academy, I was shot by members of Humanis First two times, on two different occasions." He reaches for his suit jacket and shirt, then raises it to show the stitches, his tone serious, even if incredibly uneasy. "I was wondering if FRONTLINE intends to do something about the threat Humanis First is posing to Evolved, and possibly non-Evolved civilians?"

"Oh fuck, Maytag" Minea murmurs in horror up towards the stage as Magnes lifts his shirt. "Ayers.. did he just lift his shirt on public television.. again?"

"It looks like he did," Corbin says quietly, rather surprised by the question, before he does say, "Glad someone asked that, though." After Humanis shot and killed someone right in front of Hokuto. It'd been on his list, but his editor made certain… comments that made it seem like a very bad idea to ask about Humanis First. "Wasn't he one of ours until recently? I think I saw him at one of the functions…" Shirtless.

"Keyword was" Minea fills Corbin in. "I think Denton's gonna have a heart attack. Watch this get picked up in Japan and they'll start demanding his head for the damage he did" Minea quiets down though, as in she stops talking, waiting for the answer.

Autumn turns to Vice-President Mitchell, who in turn looks over at the President, Michael's brows go up and he tries not to grimace at General Autumn, who struggles with his words as he waves one hand dismissively to Magnes in a very please put your shirt back on, son sort've gesture. "I don't think it's my place to speculate how Frontline will be utilized by the local and federal law-enforcement, I think these are questions you should be asking local representatives about Unit One's useage. However, I will go on record stating that terrorist organizations like Humanis First will not be tolerated on American soil, or anywhere. We will not tolerate that threat to normalcy and peace, and all branches of the United States government are working hard to help quell these threats as they arise."

Taking a step back from the podium, Autumn raises both of his hands and flashes a smile. "I'd like to thank you all for coming today," reporters continue to try and vie for attention, all talking over one another as Sebastian takes another step back and waves to the crowd, watching as Nathan is led out by secret service with Vice-President Mitchell and Michael Spalding not far behind.

In the end, the press core is dissolved and people begin to make their way from the stage, while television news reports go over the sound bytes from today's press conference. Probably the most eye-opening suggestion, lies in the future of NYPD's very own SCOUT.

Potentially disbanded, yet one more rippling change from the Bright Future that was to be.

And now, armed with the government's spin on Frontline, the dark-haired reporter "Rose Weston" quietly slips into the crowd, carrying his story with him. He's poked the bear that is General Sebastian Autumn enough for one day.

And it did what it needed to — get everyone's attention, that while Frontline may be a shield of defense…

…who it's protecting isn't yet entirely clear.


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