The Sword Arm


adam_icon.gif alison_icon.gif arthur_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif jenn_icon.gif mason_icon.gif maury_icon.gif

Scene Title The Sword Arm
Synopsis Adam Monroe returns to Pinehearst with half of the formula, and Arthur entreats him to begin a second mission.
Date May 25, 2009

Pinehearst Headquarters

Amid the urban parks of Fort Lee New Jersey, the Pinehearst Corporate Headquarters is an unusual sight. Architecturally designed with an eye for the natural environment, the building is both sleek and modern while retaining a touch of the natural world. The primary facility is a seven story office building rising up out of forested grounds, the reflective green-tinted plate windows show not the neighboring Jersey cityscape, but reflect the natural splendor of the six acres of land the facility rests on. The secondary facility and central lobby is a two-floor structure with a rounded front lined with square columns, an entire green-tinted glass wall behind it shadowing the lobby beyond.

Between these two structures, a central courtyard is filled with neatly landscaped trees surrounded by bark mulch, a fountain prominently displaying a stone slab with the Pinehearst logo flanked by benches, and stone walksways that meander through this lush, natural splendor. Near the lobby entrance, an enormous blue and green double-helix proudly identifies the building as Pinehearst property.

One of the fluorescent bulbs is dying. It's in that flickering and sputtering manner that so many of them are wont to do at the end of their cycle, a fitful and restless show of defiance before the last bit of light they have sputters and fades entirely.

Here in the Pinehearst conference room, that little flickering light is the only thing to keep Adam Monroe and his stalwart companion Huruma company. The long boardroom table reflects the flickering light in its faux-wood surface, each high-backed black leather chair so nearly arranged in fourteen spaces, only the green and blue double-helix of the Pinehearst logo engraved into the tabletop breaks up the typical boardroom monotony.

Out green-tinted plate glass windows, a sunny sky beats down on the verdant parkland surrounding the complex. Here, on the third floor of the modest Pinehearst corporate building, the fulfilling of years worth of waiting is finally reaching an end. It's no surprise that — despite Adam's unannounce arrival — that Arthur is so very prompt at coming to meet him. First and foremost though, other members of Arthur's board emerge thorugh the door to greet the immortal and his guest.

The first pair are in mid-conversation on the way in, hushing as they spot Huruma first, then the unchanging blonde. Adam recalls their faces, but not their names. Doctors who were present on Level-5 during his incarceration back during the 1980s, but ones he never directly interacted with. They've aged gracefully, not quite as much as he has, but…

"Mister Monroe, it's a pleasure." Auburn-haired bordering on brown, the bespectacled woman is likely in her late forties, "I'm very eager to see what you've managed to retrieve from Nakamura," her head bows as she moves to take a seat at the table, "my name is Jennifer Chesterfield."

Slipping into the room with her is a modest and rather meek looking older man, likewise donned with glasses, but looking more like a cantankerous librarian than anything befitting of this gathering. "Mister Monroe," he says in a subdued manner with a kick of something european in his voice. "Mason Chesterfield," he motions to himself, "it's a pleasure." He adopts a seat next to Jennifer, followed in by the usually stoic and silent Maury Parkman.

There's something to be said for familial resemblances, and the silent, gray-haired old man looks little like his young boy. Coming in to stand beside the head chair, Maury folds his hands behind his back, nodding at the arrival of the man of the hour. Arthur's entrance is accompanied by a tiny blonde woman who's youthful appearance and narrow frame makes assessing her actual age difficult. Her white labcoat and short stature are all reminiscent of Adam's one confidant in the Company — Odessa Knutson — but this is more assuredly not her. Arthur moves in confident strides to sit at his chair, and the woman in the lab coat settles down in the chair to his right.

Stern eyes settle on Adam from the patriarch of Pinehearst, then to Huruma. Arthur manages a mostly sincere smile, "You must be Huruma," he says in a rich, strong tone of voice. "It's a pleasure to finally make your acqaintence. Adam," Arthur's focus changes, motioning to the blonde doctor nearby, "This is doctor Alison Meier, she's very much looking forward to seeing what you've brought me."

In a way, it's just like old times.

Adam has taken to seating himself most informally. He's leaned back in his chair with his feet on the table. He glances at Huruma now and again, twirling the envelope in his fingers lightly. As people start to come in, he greets each of them with a polite, but hostile gaze. Oh, he knews these people, or most of them, but he has no interest in managing any pleasure with them. When Arthur comes in, he says, "Hello, old bean." he pauses for some moments, "So this is what the fuss was all about, yeah?"
It is natural that in a strange place, Huruma would keep her more passive senses in mind; including her empathic 'bubble'. Not that it is actually doing anything- simply taking notes on her unfamiliar surroundings. As she feels the approach of various individuals, she glances to the next seat at Adam's lack of formality- though obviously she does not say a thing, because her attention is on the hushing faces as they slip into the conference room. There is not so much hostility with her- if you can call it that. Regardless of who they happen to be, they are all given the look that zoo patrons might get if they were to stand up close to the fence at a big cat exhibit. Largely indifference, a touch of curiosity.

Finally, as Arthur sits down, Huruma's muscles stiffen; however, only the sharpest of eyes will detect it. Not out of any worry- she is simply unaccustomed to any of these faces, most of all Arthur Petrelli. As soon as she is addressed personally, the tall woman smooths the hem of the taut black skirt on her legs and nods in silent greeting, one knee already crossed over the other. A black suit, with peeks of red from underneath. Even if Adam does not seem to take anything quite as seriously, Huruma likes to employ first impressions.

Everyone else at the table falls silent as Adam begins to speak, watching Arthur's reactions. Even Arthur seems to grow silent as his eyes follow the motion of the envelope, hands steepling as he leans his elbows on the tabletop, hunching forward in his seat to rest his mouth against his folded fingers. "Good things come in small packages," Arthur quips with a quirk of one corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you were able to handle your personal issues overseas and get the job done, I'm glad I put my faith in you."

Looking over to Maury, Arthur says nothing, only holds out a hand as Maury reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieving an unmarked manilla envelope. As Arthur takes it, his focus shifts from Maury to Adam, one dark brow raised inquisitively. "Consider this a payment of good will, given the considerable work you've done for me. Regretably, I have to inform you that we have reached a bit of a snag." The folder drifts out from Arthur's hand, hanging in the air as it moves to settle by Adam's feet with a telekinetic guide.

Anxiety, elation, pride — all of these things encompass Arthur's feelings at the moment to Huruma's senses. The others in the room though, only have the anxiety, they're all waiting with baited breath on the very thing Adam has brought here to them. "Our informant in the Company has been killed, which means that furnishing you with more up-to-date intelligence on the others will be…" Arthur's head tilts to one side in a subtle gesture, "difficult." Then, as his eyes move from the envelope, they come to settle on the one Adam holds. "Let's see it."

Adam tilts his head curiously. He looks around the table, then back to Arthur, "Goodman's dead?" he pauses, "Ashame." he glances at the folder at his feet, "That was a nice trick Arthur. I hope you've also considered monetary compesation. I want enough money that even I feel embarrassed." then he glances up and tosses the envelope, letting it flutter through the air for someone to pick up telekinetically or letting it fall onto the table.

Huruma's own features do not change, but the inky pupils of her eyes flicker to follow the courses of the envelopes apparently being pandered around in the air. One, two. A rather strange transaction, but a seemingly successful one nonetheless. She can understand the senior Petrelli's elation, in some ways- one more step towards something very, very interesting.

Arthur's lips crack into a smile, "Please, Adam. I fails to imagine a man with both your longevity and your rather succinct interests is motivated by something as simple as that. But if there's something specific you need, I'll be certain to afford it to you." It's a very clean and obvious way of keeping a particularly vicious dog on a short leash. Let him roam the yard, to be certain, but don't let him wander off on his own.

Arthur snatches Adan's envelope out of the air, and it just hangs there suspended on an unseen thread as his fingers curl back, drawing it closer to him. Doctor Meier rises up in her seat, eyes wide as she leans in to look at the envelope as it opens in mid-flight, bowing slightly so as to allow Arthur's fingers to reach in and pull out —

— a torn piece of paper.

There's a paling in Arthur's expression as he looks down at half of the formula for an organic compound. He is at a loss for words, and Alison's eyes widen, an almost frantic look crossing over her — one that Huruma can feel as a very palpable sense of fear, a fear for her life, curiously. "That's— " her focus jerks sharply towards Adam, "Where is the rest of it!" Her palms slap down on the table, a gesture so sudden that it makes both Mason and Jennifer arch a bro win surprise and a bit of embarrassment.

"Alison," Arthur motions to the young looking doctor, forcing her down into her seat with an unseen hand, "compose yourself." The venom in his tone isn't directed to her, but at the split piece of paper. Eyes clouding with suspicion level first at Huruma, then at Adam. The frustration building up in Arthur begins to supplant the former elation. "I certainly hope this is not your idea of some sort of joke, Adam. I'll echo Doctor Meier's sentiments in asking where the rest of the Formula is?"

Adam had leaned over and picked up the folder, opening it to glance through it. At all the drama occurring, he looks up with a curious brow. "Pardon?" he questions. He settles the folder down onto the table, "Isn't that what it was? Wasn't there some sort of legend about the formula being split in half?" he questions. He shrugs a bit, "You only asked me to get Kaito's bit."

Fear makes people do stupid things. Huruma knows that fact from many years of experience, surely. As soon as Doctor Meier slams her hands on the table, the tall African is leaning slightly forward in her seat, legs uncrossing and lips parted just enough so that the unmistakable growl does not get caught behind them.

A puff of air escapes through her nose as Huruma sits back again, her posture remaining tall and almost throne-like. Her eyes, boring into the doctor, swivel to examine the paper in Arthur's hand. Adam explains the apparent issue with certain disregard, and so it is Huruma that picks up the loose ends so that everyone can understand what exactly was waiting in Tokyo.

"That-" She begins, her voice about as rich as Arthur's, but in a far different manner of. "-is all that was in Kaito Nakamura's possession." The words come with an assuring variant of a purr, her eyes keen on watching the paper rather than a human face. "I hazard a guess tha'someone else from your-" A pause. "-Circle may have th'other'alf." Divide the guilt for making such a thing, in the crudest and most sensible way.

Arthur's brows lower, furrowing into a look of absolute frustration as he snaps his eyes up to Maury. The senior Parkman has had his focus leveled on Adam rather squarely since the meeting began, and a wordless exchange between the two ends with Arthur slouching down into his chair with a bit of a deflated look, staring at the half of a formula on the table. "No, Adam," his composure begins to come back, but Huruma can feel how much of a tempest is brewing behind that stoic facade, and how nervous it is making the Chesterfields and Doctor Meier. Maury, for some reason, seems remarkably calm, "that wasn't what I was expecting. The last I saw of the Formula, it— " Arthur cuts himself off, silent for a moment of thoughtful time.

"I think I have a fairly good idea where the other half is, and…" Arthur's eyes narrow, "I think I'll be getting that half personally." As he talks, Adam discerns from the folder's first content what the remainder will be. Photographs of old friends of his, ones responsible for putting him in the deep and dark hole that he lost three decades to. Right on top, a more recent file photograph of Victoria Pratt, and dossiers on her location in Searsmont Maine, along with three other of the Founders: Susan Amman in Reseda California and Paula Gramble in Seattle Washington.

"Before you get started on that, though," Arthur motions to the envelope, then hesitates, looking over to Mason and Jennifer. "Actually, would you two mind taking this," he motions to the half of the formula, "with Doctor Meier down to the lab to get it put into our database? I want to see how it matches up to what we already have."

Jenn tenses, briefly, then looks over to her husband. It's obvious when Arthur wants to dismiss the children from the adults table, and she wordlessly nods her head and begins to rise from the chair, anxiety rising as she casts a suspicious stare to Alison who snatches up the formula and hastily begins making her way to the door.

"Adam, Miss," Mason says in respect to the pair on the other end of the table as he and Jenn make their way out, not quite getting what they expected at all. Once they've left the room, Arthur folds his hands again and leans back into his chair, exhaling a slow and tired sigh.

"I have something I'd like you to focus your energies on, Adam, while you're sniffing at those leads. If you've got the free time." There's a familiar tone in Arthur's voice, much like he had when speaking of Kaito, and it's obvious how that was intended to end. "It's a problem that isn't just mine, but I think could eventually become your problem as well."

Adam arches a brow. He puts the folder under his arm, though it remains closed. He leans back in his seat and kicks his feet back up now that this business of the formula is over. How could Arthur not have known? That's an interesting tid bit to think about. But at any rate, he watches Arthur carefully, along with the various scientists who slowly disperse from the room. "Alright. Let's hear it." he says.

Listening to a conversation is one thing- but feeling it is so much more interesting. Huruma seems to settle into her seat easily enough, her gaze momentarily flickering over faces, and one forearm lifting so that her chin rests on her fingers in wait. Yes. Let us hear it.

Moving one hand, Arthur calls up a black leather folio that had been resting on the seat next to Alison's. The folio drifts through the air on unseen strings, and comes to lay between Adam and Huruma. A flick of Arthur's fingers causes it to open and lay flat, revealing a series of black and white surveillance photographs that fan out in front of the immortal and his consort.

"These individuals, have taken a specific distaste to Pinehearst's actions." An old, fat and bald man is the top picture, below that a wiry and dark haired young man with hawkish features, then a lantern-jawed man in his thirties with short, light hair, then a severe-looking brunette woman with stark eyebrows and pale eyes. Finally, there is a photograph of a short and bookish looking man with round-lensed glasses and large, expressive eyes.

"I have reason to believe that they're from the future," the touch of incredulity in Arthur's tone is so very evident, "and have an axe to grind against us. I have reason to believe that they're willing to target all of our associates which — directly or indirectly — affects you, Adam."

"The bald man's name is Eric Doyle. In this time he's a prisoner of Homeland Security, or… was. This older version of him commands the same ability: puppetry. It's… like telekinesis, in the mind, it makes you do whatever it is he desires."

That photograph is shifted aside. "This man is called Niles Wight. His younger self was sprung from Company holding by an unknown group, Goodman told me his ability was classified as some form of replication with… electrical duplicates of himself." The photograph moves aside, "Next is a man named Tyler Case. He is an ability manipulator. He can suppress, endow and swap the Evolved powers of others. I have some… special requests involving him I'd like you to fulfill. But I'll get to that at the end."

Moving Tyler's picture aside, Arthur's brows lower as he stares at the photograph of the dark-haired woman. "April Bradley, a Company agent with forcefield generation." Arthur's eyes narrow, "Goodman discovered that she fed inside information about Pinehearst's operations to the Company, and I think she may even have been working with her past self." Lastly, comes the bug-eyed man's picture.

"Doctor Edward Ray, a physicist from MIT. He has some form of precognition that involves pattern recognition and numerical statistics, I don't entirely understand it, but I am familiar with him. Whatever you're going to do, there's a high chance he'll be able to anticipate it. However," there's a crooked smile, "It seems you have a knack for taking out people like that."

Finally getting to the point of all of this, Arthur leans back in his chair again, fingers steepled. "Pinehearst lacks a standing… army, shall we say. You and yours have proven yourself capable of being my sword-arm, as it were." He motions to Huruma, then Adam, "I'd like it if the two of you could help… alleviate these future concerns. If things are allowed to progress, I can't guarantee you anything involving our stability, or…" his head quirks to the side, "our money."

However Tyler's photograph is given special care and attention. "This one, though… Tyler?" Arthur's eyes upturn to Adam. "I want this one alive."

Adam considers the people quietly, flipping along quietly for some moments. He pauses at Niles' picture thoughtfully, before turning towards another. "I see." he says, then glances at Arthur, "I'm not your sword-arm, Arthur. I work with you, not for you." he states flatly. But then he looks back towards the pictures and glances towards Huruma, then back towards Arthur, "And what of the Company? Now that you've gone and got Goodman killed, how are your destabilizing efforts going?"

Huruma takes her time in examining the photos as they are flipped through by the others. Making notations inside of her own mind, she listens quietly as the men continue an exchange. If there are others after these… time travelers? It may be easier to find out who. And then possibly make sure they stay out of the running. Several predators after the same prey is not bound to end well, regardless of if it is possible to derail any of them.

The only one of the bunch that seems to get any sort of outward reaction from the woman is Tyler Case; ability manipulation is something that she truly never wishes to encounter. Even if she were to be paid to do so. Some things are far more important to her.

"Come now, Adam," Arthur says with a good-natured smile, "you're a swordsman, you know the arm works with the rest of the body in a fluid motion, not for it. Every part of a body is as complimentary and necessary as the other for a proper swing and follow-through. Shoulders, arms, hips, knees. Everything working in one succinct unit." But there's darkening to Arthur's expression when his progress with the Company is mentioned.

"If it wasn't for these lunatics," Arthur waves one flippant hand at the photographs, "Goodman would have been able to accrue all of the necessary information I need for a public outing of the Company. But it seems, in whatever future these individuals came from, we succeeded." Arthur's eyes narrow slightly, "and now they're trying to prevent that, for whatever reason. Had I the resources the Company does, this wouldn't be an issue, but I'm short of staff and on patience."

Maury moves to pass by Arthur, walking towards the far end of the room by the door, as if just wandering, lost in thought. "I can't fight a battle on two fronts, and right now these time-travelers are the focus of my concern. I need to know how they got here, why they're here, and then have them killed."

Arthur's gaze wanders to Maury, then to the tabletop. "Roger is dead, and the Company was able to get the drop on him thanks to these people. I don't care what it takes, Adam, or how much it costs. I want these people dead, even if you have to burn down all of New York to do it." Huruma can feel the ire rolling off of Arthur in slow waves.

Adam nods thoughtfully, he leans back, "Is anyone looking for them? Any time I saw a science fiction show, time travelers always brought up a bunch of people looking to set things right." he glances towards Maury for a moment, then back towards Arthur, "And…can't you find them?" he pauses, "I'm going to need operational funds. I can't keep footing the bill for your plots." he glances towards Maury, "And some back up wouldn't hurt."

Since when was this a Victor Hugo spinoff? And he'll burn down all of Paris! Cue epic drums and organs. Huruma sits quietly during this exchange as well, her attention straying towards Maury's back for but a few seconds, as Adam explains the need for backup monetarily- and literally. She glances over to him at this, the expression clearly one that is ticking off names from the Japan trip in another inner monologue.

So many people to bring in, so little time. And then, of course- there is always the possibility of looking up 'old friends' to help. Who knows if that would work? Huruma's lips twitch and threaten a smirk.

Arthur slouches his shoulders, lips curling up into a snarl. "Regretably, the fact that there are two of each of them in this timeline seems to render my ability to find them worthless," though that does bring up a clever notion, "if you can kill one of them, whichever doesn't matter, then I shouldn't have an issue finding them. This… ability is new, though, I don't have all the nuances down," he motions ephemerally into the air, "in time I could probably find them, but by then it would be too late."

At the question of money, Arthur waves one hand in the air flippantly, "Whatever you need, it's yours. Pinehearst may not have the financial backing the Company does, but for your matters it will be nothing. Bring your expenses for your trip to Japan to me as well, and I'll have those covered." Arthur's eyes drift to the silent, stoic form of Huruma, curiosity raised in her clearly intent observation, only to find his gaze drawn back to Adam.

"As far as I know, the Company has agents looking for them." There's an omission of information, an omission of Phoenix's involvement. Best to keep those two hands from shaking, for the time being. "I imagine local law enforcement is as well. But that should hardly be a concern for you."

Adam lets out a sigh and hmms, "Alright." he says, closing the folder and standing. He glances at Huruma, 'it's time to go' is his clear message. He looks back at Arthur, "I'll see what I can do." except, what Adam can do is…extreme. No one unleashes a man like Adam on the populace without knowing things are going to break. He pauses, "Next time, Arthur, have donuts. I'm hungry." he begins to walk out of the room. Things to do, things to do.

Finally, the meeting with the man she first spotted in an old man's painting seems to be coming to a close. As soon as she is signaled by Adam, Huruma slowly lifts herself from the seat at the same time, grazing several inches above each of the men left in the conference room. Her features tighten in a mental sigh when Adam suggests donuts for the next time; clearly, the woman humors him on a regular basis. You have to be able to do that with Adam, right?

Huruma shifts to follow Adam out of the room, only pausing for a second to incline her head in farewell to the remaining pair.

Until next time, it appears.

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