The Shrink AGAIN?


elisabeth_icon.gif mack_icon.gif

Scene Title The Shrink AGAIN?
Synopsis Just after the ambush in Chinatown, Mack and Liz have a few minutes to talk about open cases, and he shunts her out to the shrink again.
Date March 27, 2009


Regular work hours ended a long time ago. Of course, when it comes to the halls occupied by SCOUT, that doesn't account for much. Once again Mack finds himself in the briefing room with scores of manilla envelopes spread out in front of him and a notepad nearby. Who needs that fancy laptop shit, anyway? His shirt is unbuttoned, given the lowered chances of running into a superior at this hour. Otherwise its business as usual. His badge swings like a pendulum from its place slung over a long chain around his neck.

Elisabeth has been doing a lot of dressing down lately — that'll probably have to change if or when things ever settle, but for now? Whenever Harvard gives her shit for wearing jeans to work, she just gives him Innocent Face and says, "And I'm home to do laundry when?" Given the hours she's been putting in with everyone else, he hasn't really made a stink thus far. When she walks into the briefing room, her badge is clipped to her belt, and the dark green T-shirt is a bit rumpled from a full day's work. "Hey, Mack," she greets him as she enters, heading for the coffee pot. Cuz you know there's one in every room IN the place lately. "What's on your mind?"

Mack looks up from his papers when the door opens, so when Elisabeth greets him he responds with a tired wave. He looks as if he'd have bags under his eyes if, you know, his body didn't prevent any such thing from happening. "Hey Lis, thanks for meeting with me. I've been looking into some shit out on Staten Island and word kind of got around that the shit hit the fan for you a while back. Up to running through a few things with me?" He gestures towards the woman's current objective -coffee- as if she should bring him a cup as well.

"Sure," the blonde officer replies equably. She even pours him coffee and brings it back, dropping into the chair next to him and slumping into it. It's only been a twelve hour day today…. but that doesn't count getting shot at in Chinatown tonight. Which is why she's in the precinct just now — filling out paperwork on it.

"Okay, I'll level with you. I've got shit to go on right now. Just a bunch of old reports from the lucky victims. Seems like they were scared out of their minds when they were interviewed. What happened when you ran into them?"

Liz uhms. "Well, …. " Elisabeth sips her coffee. "My run-in was what I'd call atypical," she replies. "We got a call about pirates taking over a large cargo vessel, and we were told they had hostages…. but it turned out they were runners. Fleeing Manhattan to avoid Registration. So… honestly, I can't even tell you whether the pirates we ran into are actually pirates or if they're coyotes."

Mack makes a 'clicking' noise with his tongue and teeth and nods. "Well, of course not. That'd be too easy." He offers a sideways smile in a disarming fashion, but the presence of some kind of minor frustration is clear. "So, you get a call. The "pirates", they're hitting the cargo vessel full of evo's looking to avoid picking up their plastic. What's the end result? They get away? Sorry, I know I could've gotten that from your report but I've been either buried in paperwork or stuck on the shithole- sorry, Staten -and I'm a little behind the times."

"The end result?" Elisabeth's chuckle is a bit bitter. "The end result was a clusterfuck. The refugees turned on the cops, took down a chopper and damn near killed those of us in the small boat because basically? They had the high ground and used it. And because I screwed up, Mack — There was no way to win a negotiation there. The only thing we could do was let 'em walk away, and I lost my temper. Told 'em get off the boat or I was sending in a team. So they cut loose on us." She sips her coffee. "Yeah.. they got away."

"What happened the 'pirates'?"

"They took the refugees and the cargo ship and headed for Staten," Elisabeth tells him. "One of them was actually picked up. Sylar. He was turned over to Homeland."

Mack forcefully expunges the air from his lungs in a long sigh before setting his pen down. He looks at said article of literate destruction as if smiting it would cause him great joy. "And I assume HomeSec didn't bother to offer any cooperation or even a contact info for who's handling the case." Then he forces a smile onto his face. "Well, looks like I actually have to work for this one. Thanks for taking the time to chat, I'm sure sitting around in the squad room wasn't your idea of a relaxing evening."

Elisabeth laughs outright at him. "Oh, yeah… .like they're going to tell us anything," she says on a chuckle. And then she shrugs. "I had to be here anyway… got ambushed in Chinatown earlier tonight. Discharged my weapon, cop got shot. Big fuckin' mess." She rolls her eyes and sighs. "Could have been a ton worse."

"Take it none of ours went down?" There's only the slightest tint of hope filtered into Mack's question. "Glad you're alright, anyway. Seems like this place is falling apart enough as it is without having to bring in another probie."

A cheeky grin comes at him. "Nah…. Daubrey got grazed. Nothing serious, thank goodness." Leland Daubrey, the best known asshole in the whole of NYPD… or something. Elisabeth shrugs. "I'm not a probie anymore," she asserts calmly. "Might screw up a few things, but I think I've earned my way past that." She smiles. "I'm even up for a shield… insanity!"

Mack returns her grin with one of his own. "That's why I said I wouldn't want to bring in another one. And congrats on the shield; kind of. You know it really just means that they have even more of an excuse to chew your ass, right?" A slight pause, and then the thought is finished. "But you'll always be a probie as far as I'm concerned."

Elisabeth laughs softly. "Oh good… see, if you think of me as a probie, then I'll have someone to keep me from getting too big for my britches." She seems sincere in that thought. "The shield's nothing… it's nice and all, but… it's not going to change how I do my job, you know?" She hesitates. "Mack? …. You think we're going to be able to retake Staten?" After all, he's been over there.

Mack takes a deep breath before he answers that question. "Well, either we'll take it back, or the people they send in to replace us after we're dead will."

There's a slow nod. "Just do me a favor? Stick John Logan and James Muldoon on the top of the Kill List — if we're gonna bite it, I want 'em to go first, okay?" She grimaces. "They held a couple friends of mine captive in that fuckin' pit of a cage-fighting ring."

Mack retakes possession of his pen and taps it in and out. The habit might be annoying, what with the faint clicking it emits periodically every few seconds. "John Logan and James Muldoon. What do you know about 'em?"

"You want the reports? I'll get 'em now." Liz is dead serious now. "I know that Abigail Beauchamp was kidnapped off the streets of Manhattan for her healing ability, and the DA refuses to prosecute the men because they held her on Staten Island. No law there, so no crime." She's livid, he can see it in her face. But she's keeping it under control, except for the ice in her tone. "I know a cop named Norton Trask also wound up being held in a cage over there, forced to fight in that underground Evo cage-fighting ring we keep hearing murmurs about. But again, no law over there, so no crime. John Logan and James Muldoon apparently own the place or something. They're ringleaders. Abigail gave a full statement — by the way, she's on retainer with us at this point for healing… and she was told by the men holding her that they got her name from a corrupt cop who got it off the Registry. Now whether that's the truth or not, I have no clue. And we're unlikely to ever find proof of that." She sighs. "The FBI's looking at the case, since our DA is dodging like he's a champion dodgeball player. You can talk to Felix Ivanov about it, though."

Mack listens attentively as she speaks, though he doesn't do her the courtesy of nodding at the appropriate places. His eyes are locked on hers, and he doesn't make any kind of response until she's through. "There's no law because the coward doesn't have the balls to enforce it. Don't worry about him, he's a dumbass. Kind of works in our favor, though. If no law equals no crime, that means we don't exactly have to walk on eggshells when it comes to reading perps their Miranda rights, if you know what I mean." He scribbles on his notepad before continuing. "Any idea what division Trask is in?" Felix he's already met.

Elisabeth nods immediately. "He's a beat cop out of the Crown Heights precinct," she replies. "We've also got corroborating statements from Oleander Thespuda, who recently turned himself in to HomeSec — he accidently turned his family to statues when his power flared for the first time. They're okay now, but he was afraid to hurt them again. I don't know what they're going to do with him… he was a guard at the warehouses, though." She grimaces. "I doubt you'll get more than his written statement, given where he is."

"If that. They're secretive bastards. Its like they took their cues on how to investigate from the mid fifties CIA. Fuckin' hacks." Mack flips a few envelopes closed and slides them away- apparently useless, for the moment. "You know where the fights were held? And/or where they kept the fighters?"

Elisabeth shrugs. "Sure, hang on. I'll get you all the statements we've got. Before you do much with it, check with Ivanov, though." The FBI liaison to SCOUT has his uses. "He's a good cop, Mack. He's leaning on the federal prosecutors for the kidnapping and calling the cage fighting thing a human trafficking ring. So… I'd almost like to see the Feds kick the DA's ass over this one." She heads for her desk to go get the files for Mack, handing them over to him as she re-enters the room. "You going to be here much later tonight? I'm actually done with my paperwork, so I'm gonna head out if you don't need me anymore."

"Yeah, we've met. He was my first call." Mack leans back in his chair and cranes his neck to check the time. "Sucks for him. Anyway, I'll be here for a while but I think I've got enough to work with for a while. Go get some rest." Then he snaps his fingers and points at the young woman, "Don't fuck around tomorrow. You go talk to the shrink first thing. I know its annoying, but there's a reason we do it. Now get outta here."

Elisabeth blinks and stares. "What??" He wants to make her go AGAIN? "Christ, Mack… I've been in the shrink's office like four times in the last three weeks! How much you wanr my head shrunk??"

"You put a bullet in somebody, you talk to the shrink. Stop shooting people and you won't have to be in there anymore." Mack's tone is all business, but his lips twitch in the tiniest of smiles. "Git."

Liz throws her hands up, rolls her eyes and grumbles, "I didn't shoot anybody this time!" But yeah, yeah, whatever. She's going. She waves over her shoulder at him, grumbling the whole way. "Night, Mack."

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