Participants:
| Scene Title | The Truth Of It |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ryans clues in Veronica on just how deep they are buried in the Company's problems. |
| Date | June 13,2010 |
She'd probably already be long gone from this corridor if she were able to move as fast as usual, but thanks to the ache cause by every muscle in her body being violently jarred in the car crash Thursday, Veronica Sawyer is just a little slow today. The agent already has out her Blackberry, thumb scrolling through her email to make use of the time it takes her to get from Sabra Dalton's office to her own.
The agent's free hand moves to her injured forehead again and her stride falters slightly, her side grazing the corridor's wall before her feet correct themselves, and she moves with greater purpose once again.
"Sawyer…. Veronica" Benjamin Ryans calls as he steps out of Sabra's office, closing the door behind him. His only handicap is the cast he wears so he's able to move quickly down the corridor to catch up to her. Leather shoes scuffing along the bland linoleum tiles."Hold up. We need to talk. Now."
If he has too, the Assisant Director will block her path, what he has to say is important enough for him to make such a move.
There's no need to block her path. Veronica's slow pace comes to a complete stop. She waits for him to catch up to her, then turns to lean against the concrete wall. Her dark eyes drift to his cast, then back up to his face, arching a brow as if to say, 'So, talk.' Verbally, however, she doesn't say anything, simply crossing her arms across her chest and waiting for him to say whatever it is he wants to say.
Once she stops, Ryans studies her for a moment. "Look…" He starts, letting that neutral mask fall away, giving her a matter of fact look. He glances down the hall and lowers his voice, "I don't like this anymore then you. I understand you want help this Gillian, but our hands are tied."
His good hand moves to rest against the wall as he lowers his voice further. "We literally have to watch our step. What she can do… is a cake walk compared to the secrets this Company is protecting from the government." His eyes shift back and forth as he watches her reaction. "If you and I screw up? The government will shut down this organization… and take those secrets."
Ryans takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, eyes shifting over to the wall. "As much as I want to do the right thing… I — we can't risk it." His gaze moves back, he's deadly serious about what he's saying.
"If I accepted 'our hands our tied' as a reason for not getting things done, Ryans, I wouldn't have survived this long in this world. I've taken down people that could have blown me to Kingdom Come with a blink, and so have you. I'm not going to let them take an innocent person — someone who's done this entire world a favor — just because there's nothing 'official' we can do," Veronica says, her husky voice quieter than usual, since there may be people lurking around corners.
"There's got to be a way, and I'm going to find it," she says stubbornly, lifting her chin to shorten the distance between his lofty gaze and hers. "The government's trying to shut us down anyway, and I'm not so arrogant to think that my screwing up is going to change that. They'll turn a blind eye to the good we've done, and point out the screwups, no matter what. You know that, Ben." It's the first time she's called him by his first name.
"We have to step lightly here, Veronica." He uses her name in turn. "Yes… the Company is dying, but the slower it dies, the more time we have to prevent the damage that will come with it's last breath. Pinehearst is nothing compared to the skeletons the government wants from our closet."
His hand drops from the wall, to rest on her shoulder, "Whether we want it or not, we've been thrown into this." Ryans' hand doesn't linger on her shoulder long before it slides away. "Now tell me… are we the only people in this city that can get her out of there?" His brows lift a little as he asks that, cause he doesn't like that they have an asset like that either.
"No… they won't." Ryans states firmly. "You and I?" He motions between the both of them, with his cast covered hand. "We were picked because of who we are. They know your a loose card that will jump ship at the right push now that you can." She's told that with a flat tone, cold, but the truth. "I am known for not always doing the 'legal' thing." His brows tilt up slightly, as if to say 'tell me I'm wrong'.
"We have to step lightly here, Veronica." He uses her name in turn. "Yes… the Company is dying, but the slower it dies, the more time we have to prevent the damage that will come with it's last breath. Pinehearst is nothing compared to the skeletons the government wants from our closet."
His hand drops from the wall, to rest on her shoulder, "Whether we want it or not, we've been thrown into this." Ryans' hand doesn't linger on her shoulder long before it slides away. "Now tell me… are we the only people in this city that can get her out of there?" His brows lift a little as he asks that, cause he doesn't like that they have an asset like that either.
"My whole adult life, I've been a pawn for this company — now I'm being used as a pawn against it, you mean," Veronica says, eyes narrowed and voice deathly quiet for all the anger it holds. "So they're just waiting for me to make a mistake or expecting me to bail. How the hell can we win — because I'm going to make a mistake. You know it and I know it. Anything can be made to look like the wrong decision by the right person." He Who Shall Not Be Named — aka Harper.
She shakes her head. "I don't know. Ferry's on it for sure, another group probably, possibly even Linderman since she helps run his orphanage. I think Frontline is somehow in on the Institute shit — the name Kershner was dropped in regards to them, but I'm not sure the connection, so I wouldn't look for any help there."
She exhales, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. "I probably should have kept it to myself. But Dalton — I trust her to a degree."
"I trust her." Ryans agrees. "But she's also just as tied as we are and I'm pretty sure she's about as thrilled about Harper being here as we are." Which is not at all.
"We just — " Ryans sighs heavy, his head leaning forward as she tries to think, but at the moment nothing is occurring to him. "In truth, I don't know what we're going to do. With Harper breathing down my neck, questioning every little decision I'm making… I'm stuck." The stress he's feeling, clear in his tone.
Stuck is a good word for it. She can't turn back and she can't go forward. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. "By the way — not a fan of the new blood they brought in. At least the she-child who acts like a twelve year old with an chip on her shoulder," Veronica says with a shake of her head. "They said you told them to help me out with my case — the only active file I currently have is Gray, and I'm not about to take two people I don't trust in on that. I've already been dealing with serial killers and sociopaths as my partners and we see how good that went. Can you make sure you find something else for them to do?"
There is a soft chuckle from the old man. "Actually, I told them to check with you to see if you needed help, not that it was suppose to happen." He corrects giving her a small smile. "Right now there isn't much for any one to do and they are a little too gungho… and she is… a piece of work." But his tone, not in a good way.
"Keep an eye on Rain too. He didn't take my warning too well." The senior agents tone bland. "I might send him to Sabra next if he keeps this up, cuase he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong. Maybe I'm too old school."
"Please. Don't make it a generational thing. I'm not that much older than him, remember," Veronica snorts. "Okay. I don't see anything too new in my email and I think if I stand upright much longer, I might lose my breakfast, so, I'm going to go back home and not work for the weekend, if that's all right by you. I'll also see what else I can find out about Childs. Believe me, we don't want her in their hands. She's powerful. I'm pretty sure whatever happened Thursday was done using her power. I can't think of any pre-cognitive or illusionist or whatever else might have done that who has that kind of range."
"Ah… but your eyes speak of a much greater wisdom, that goes far with me." Benjamin says with a soft smile. He gives a jerk of his head. "Go rest, you look like hell." The old man, takes a step back putting distance between them. "Just… watch your back and step." Ryans way of saying do what she has too, but… "Remember there is a whole organization resting on your shoulders.
"If it was up to me… and I wasn't… stuck… I'd be wanting to do what you are talking about… finding a way to get her out of there." Ryans' brows dip down. "Though I can say I don't enjoy being questioned about my choices, when Harper's group if being just as shady."
A small smile tugs up the corner of Ryans' mouth, "We just have to find a way around the restrictions…" Ryans turns towards his own office, "…think on it."
"To be honest, Ryans, I don't really care about the 'organization' — but I don't want anyone else hurt by what this company has done by handing over all their work to something worse. And it's looking like they figured that out by putting you and me in leadership roles. I hate being manipulated," Veronica says coolly, shaking her head at the pressure he puts on her.
She begins to walk away, before stopping and turning. "Did you see anything by the way, or were you way out here? Doesn't sound like it stretched this far," she says, quietly.
"I don't like it either Veronica… you've seen how I work." Ryans reaches his door, the question of his vision makes him stop, hand on the door. He doesn't look back at her, "I wasn't out here when it happened. I was checking in with an contact."
His hand twists, the door clicks and he opens it slowly. "But yes… I saw something." The assistant director is quiet for a moment, before his head turns slightly towards her. "I saw my last stand, protecting my daughter… from… something." Brows furrow, since he doesn't know what he was protecting his daughter from.
She nods, sliding her Blackberry back into her pocket. "I'm sorry. Hopefully it wasn't a vision of the future, but just … a bad dream or something of the like. And if it is the future, well. Now we know." Her own vision comes to her mind — the bare room she knows was some sort of cel, the one-way mirror, herself volunteering to talk. "We'll change it somehow." With that, she continues her walk down the corridor to take herself home.