Tribunal

Participants:

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Also Featuring:

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Scene Title Tribunal
Synopsis The United States of America vs. Eve Mas
Date March 2, 2021

“Is Eve Mas home?”

It is nearly quarter to noon. The sun rests high in the shy and shadows are small, cowardly things hidden beneath the hem of larger objects. The city is bathed in light on a largely cloudless day, but the blinds are drawn shut at Mas Mechanics. Standing in the doorway of the attached apartment facing the street, Eric Mas fixes a squared look on the man standing on the stoop of his home. A man asking after his daughter.

“She’s not.” Eric replies, his hand still holding the door. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Eric’s question elicits a tiny smile from the man on the other side of the door in a light fall jacket, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Alphonse Baumann slowly shakes his head and looks past Eric into the apartment, then back.

“No.” Alphonse says with a quick glance down to his feet. “Could you tell me where she is, though?”

Eric tenses. “Is she in trouble?” His tone all but says again.

Alphonse reaches inside of his jacket and retrieves a leather folio, revealing a badge that identifies him as an FBI officer. It, like everything else, is a lie. Eric closes his eyes and sighs. “I just want to ask her a few questions,” Alphonse says with another look over Eric’s shoulder into the house.

Eric’s sigh ends with a “Fuck” used like a period. He steps away from the door and lets Alphonse into the cramped foyer of their small apartment. The darkly-dressed stranger looks around the adjoining kitchen, then over to Eric who points down a faux wood-paneled hall.

“Eve’s in her room.” He says.

“Thank you,” Alphonse says as he makes his way through the kitchen, pausing when he notices a bent fork in the open trash bin by the refrigerator. His neck muscles tense, just for a moment, before he continues down the hall to a room where music pulses through the walls.

I remember when

Alphonse comes to the door, looking at a note taped to the exterior of the door that reads GO THE FUCK AWAY. He knocks directly on the paper, then before he gets a response opens the door with a gloved hand.

I remember, I remember when I lost my mind

Eve Kendra Mas lays in the middle of a bed cluttered with dirty laundry. Gnarles Barkley beats out from a portable boombox perched in the open window and smoke clings to the air. Eve, joint in hand, swings her legs back and forth over the edge of the bed, staring up at the glow in the dark star stickers on her ceiling that barely glow in the dark anymore.

There was something so pleasant about that place

“I’m trying to clam bake in here.” Eve says without looking at Alphonse.

Even your emotions have an echo in so much space

“Eve?” Alphonse says, eliciting a blink of her dark eyes over to him. She sits up straight with her joint hanging out of her mouth. That’s not her dad.

And when you're out there without care

“Who the fuck are you?” She asks, looking Alphonse up and down. Alphonse takes his fedora off and holds it to his chest, then smiles broadly at Eve with a slight raise of his brows.

Yeah, I was out of touch

“A friend. A business partner?” Alphonse is cagey with his choice of words. “There’s someone who would like very much to talk to you…” he looks around the room, then back to Eve. “About work. Singing.”

But it wasn't because I didn't know enough

Eve puckers her lips to hold on fast to her joint, slipping her bare feet into a pair of unlaced boots. “Alright. But you’re way too old if you think this is going to go below the belt, buddy.”

I just knew too much

Alphonse recoils and looks away, shaking his head. “Strictly professional. My employer would love you to sing at their establishment. You’re… very hard to get a hold of. Would you mind taking a drive uptown?” He keeps his voice down so as to not be overheard by Eric.

Does that make me crazy

“Who?” Eve asks.

Does that make me crazy

“Pardon?”

Does that make me crazy

“Your boss,” Eve says with a flick of her eyes up and down over Alphonse as she stands up from her bed and rakes her fingers through her hair. Alphonse smiles, then nods in understanding.

Does that make me crazy

“Angela.”

Possibly

“Angela Petrelli.”


Fifteen Years Later

United States Supreme Court
Formerly the Jackson County Courthouse

Washington, KC

March 2nd
2021

7:12 am


Looking at herself in a mirror, Eve Mas doesn’t see herself. The neatly combed hair, the lipstick, the mascara and the blazer. It’s someone else’s skin she’s been slid into like filling into a sausage. She feels constricted by it, imprisoned. The concrete walls were one thing, but needing to be paraded around like a lion at the circus was another.

The room around her looks nothing like a prison though. It reminds her of being backstage at the Orchid Lounge, the large light-framed mirror, the palette of makeup, the chair. It was an act then, too, and now she is faced with the most important act of her life: that of a well-adjusted, mentally healthy adult.

Eve sits in this room, alone, waiting for a bailiff to claim her for the first round of depositions in a classified supreme court hearing. One held without the support of the majority of her friends, her family, or her peers.

A trial that will determine the fate of her very life.

Alone.

This was perhaps a moment that Eve had been running from for over a decade, having been pardoned for previous crimes felt like the ultimate laugh and slap in the face to the laws that she gleefully had broken over the course of her life. Her brow furrows and Eve's head pitches back as she takes a deep breath in, she would kill for a joint right now. She was as clear headed (at least from drugs) that she was going to get and it wouldn't do to not take advantage of Eve's sober mind but the former lounge singer felt more at home when her head was in the clouds. She smiles, "No no, too wide." The dark haired pale woman tries again, "Hm… too.. crazy eyes."

"Once more with feeling Eve," The smile that she displays now is less feral or impish, more pleasant and relaxed. It hurts her cheeks to hold such an unnatural smile on her lips.

She had asked for a pair of glasses to wear but since she had no prescription she was left without the piece of clothing that normally made her feel the most professional and adult. "Just do you silly," She wishes Gilly was here to hold her hand. Her cousin couldn't be with her either. It's in this moment that Eve realizes she hasn't told her best friend of her new situation with Castle. Ah, holding that silly child of hers' hand right now would do a lot in the comfort department.

For as connected as Eve seems with the large chosen family, she's use to going it alone by now. This isn't any different.

Gulp

Or maybe it was?

Any doubts were deemed 'brain trolls' and those weren't going to be tolerated, not today of all days.

She was as ready as she would ever be. To pass the time she stares into the reflection of the woman she doesn't know and hums a song she used to love to hear in her younger days.

There’s a knock on the door of Eve’s room, though the person on the other side doesn’t wait for an invitation to enter. The short blonde woman who walks in offers Eve a cheerful smile that borders on apologetic.

“Ms. Mas?” Eve’s guest asks with a hesitance overcoming her smile as she shuts the door behind herself. “My name’s Sage Abernathy,” she says, slowly crossing the room while offering out a hand, “I’m with the Department of the Exterior. I just wanted to let you know that the Chief Justice denied Agent Castle’s request to testify or be present at the trial.” Her tone becomes apologetic, worry tracing her features.

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"Just Eve dear." Her tone is soft, she's still looking in the mirror, ignoring the unfamiliar woman staring back for an even more unfamiliar one.

"Why I quite like that name," Looking at the young woman over as she enters, "I'm lucky they sent such a lovely young woman to escort me!" It's all she can do not to throw something into the mirror at the news that her child won't be allowed to come.

"So, they're playing hardball." Leaning forward to look into the mirror and applying more of the dark red lipstick to her lips. Very carefully, slowly with eyes on her lips. Those were familiar, yea. "Ah well, matters little. Are we ready?"

Sage makes something of a face when Eve mentions hardball, a noise rising in the back of her throat. “You… do realize how serious this all is, right?” She glances over her shoulder to the door, then back to Eve. “This isn’t just a jaywalking ticket we’re talking about here, it’s the rest of your life. It’s…” Sage cuts herself off, considers something, then just nods once in awkward tension.

"The rest of my life?" Eve barks out a rough laugh and looks over her shoulder now eyeing the blonde up and down. "I've died more times than should be allowed, been tangling with an immortal for over a decade and his former or current inter dimensional master and I've been locked. In. Side. A Box." The smile drops and Eve frowns. "It's only serious biz in this noggin." She "drills" a fingertip into her temple.

"It's what-"

Tilting her head to the side. "The death penalty?"

“I don’t think so.” Sage says with a quick shake of her head. “But I feel like life in prison, however that would work for someone like you,” she implies some knowledge of Eve’s situation, “wouldn’t be a kinder option.”

But Sage doesn’t let Eve dwell on that notion. Instead, she motions to the door with an incline of her head. “Come on. They’ll be starting soon.”


A Short Time Later

Hearing Chambers


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The hearing chambers of the new United States Supreme Court are as serious and dour as they were in Washington D.C. before the war. Dark wood furnishings and wall paneling gives the massive chambers a dark sense of warmth and the raised bench where a dozen government representatives and officials sit in observation of this hearing is elevated from the table Eve Mas is seated at.

Eve’s legal representation—Justin Potts—is still somewhat an unfamiliar face to her, a middle-aged man just starting to turn gray in a crisp suit and a striped red tie. They had met a few times prior to coordinate her defense, largely frustrating meetings for the both of them. Potts offers Eve a nervous smile as justices and cabinet members finish filing in.

“Good morning, if we could have quiet.” Supreme Court Chief Justice Coleen Thornton leads the proceedings today, adjusting her glasses as she looks across the floor to Eve. “We will hear
argument this morning in Case 21-02, United States of America vs. Eve Kendra Mas.”

There is no press at this hearing, but a court stenographer seated several tables over quietly clicks away at a keyboard taking notations. Chief Justice Thornton looks down at papers in front of her, “Mr. Alonzo.”

The Chief Justice directs the court’s attention to the man leading the government’s prosecution, US Attorney Alexander Alonzo, a tall and square-jawed man with gray hair and who—in Eve’s assessment—looks like he has a massive stick up his ass.

Alonzo stands from his chair and glances down at a note, then leans in and briefly confers with his aides, then walks to stand in front of his table. “Ms. Chief Justice and,” he gestures around the room, “may it please the court: We are not here to determine the facts surrounding Eve Mas’ arrest or the reason why we are in this room. The facts are laid out and will be used to remind the Court of the severity of Ms. Mas’ actions. They are not in question. We’re here to determine a sentencing for the crimes Eve Mas committed on the American people, to weigh the severity of those actions versus the value in her continued freedom.”

In the far corner of the courtroom, Eve briefly spots Vincent Lazzaro behind a gathering of security before sublimating out in a haze of blue-black smoke. Her attention is drawn back to Mr. Alonzo, who continues his argument.

“The outgoing Secretary of Homeland Security, Mr. Vincent Lazzaro, maintained an off-books correspondence with Ms. Mas for going on three years pertaining to select knowledge of the SLC-Expressive threat known as Uluru.” Alonzo states firmly. “Mr. Lazzaro permitted Ms. Mas to operate without either sanction or approval from the Justice Department, the Department of Defense, or any intelligence agency and did not reveal Ms. Mas as the source of his intelligence on Uluru until after the Detroit attack which claimed the lives of American citizens in a preventable attack.

Alonzo looks back to Eve and her attorney for a moment, then over to Sage Abernathy who comes to sit behind Eve in the mostly unoccupied observation seats. Sage rests a hand on Eve’s shoulder, briefly, and then sits back in her seat.

“Had Ms. Mas not been given such free reign, she would not have had the ability to recklessly go after Adam Monroe and engage in an altercation with both he and Uluru that resulted in her active possession by this entity.” Alonzo continues, pointing back at Eve without looking at her. “Ms. Mas then chose to avoid law enforcement following the attack on Detroit carried out with her body, and proceeded to endanger the lives of hundreds of at-risk Expressive youths by luring them to an insecure area outside of the New York City Safe Zone where they were a prime target of anti-expressive extremists.”

“Were it not for the brave actions of federal agents attempting to bring Ms. Mas in countless more people would have died.” Alonzo says through his teeth. “Ms. Mas has shown a continued lapse in good judgment that has cost lives. Among them Barbara Zimmerman, a valued member of the Department of Energy, and liaison to Yamagato Industries: dead. How many more lives are we willing to put at risk by allowing Eve Mas to run free—to coast by the court system on her reputation as a war hero?”

Alonzo looks back at Eve, shoulders square and tense. He then looks back to the Chief Justice. “I do not discredit the good work Eve Mas may have done in association with the Ferrymen or with the Resistance during the war, but I call into question the judgement of the Department of Justice in allowing that reputation to color the actions of a woman who has knowingly endangered the lives of countless people on numerous occasions. It is the recommendation of the office of the Attorney General that Eve Mas be imprisoned for the remainder of her life for the security of this country and the safety of its people. Whatever counsel she wishes to offer can be made from a prison cell.”

Alonzo dips his head and steps away from the bench. “I’m happy to take questions.”

“The Justices have none at this time,” Chief Justice Thornton says, moving a few documents around in front of her. “Mr. Potts,” she calls to Eve’s defender as Alonzo moves back to his seat.

“Just stay quiet and trust me,” Potts says quietly to Eve before standing up and approaching the bench.

Everything about this place and her last few months beyond learning of her children had been bland and boring. Routine, scripted. No room for improv and here she was again, in the spotlight and not even able to be herself, to say she was frustrated would be a severe understatement.

Why I never-

Stop that right this instance Eve Kendra Mas!!

Before the volatile woman can insult Alonzo she hears a voice that she hasn't heard in some time since losing her gift of foresight. The tiny sprite, the voice that would direct her now. Calm her. Listen to Potty Potts. Surely just an delusion at this rate but the comfort that Eve felt warmed her bones still.

He hates that nickname.

You still call him that in your head… how else would I know it, duh.

Fair.

BEHAVE! WWGD? What Would Gillian Do?

Sitting up taller and staring straight ahead, ignoring Alonzo but really wanting to jump on that table and tap dance all over his papers and face. The accusations weren't false, she had endangered many. Killed countless, saved even more. Was she good?

That is a question she's had the months to ponder over and the conclusion she had come to was simple and complicated just like Eve. She was capable of anything and was someone like that worth allowing to stay free? Placing her hands under the table and in her lap, she rubs her fingers together nervously.

Maybe not.

“Ms. Chief Justice.” Potts says as he slips from Eve’s side. “The United States Judicial Code is, as you and the court are well aware, exists in a state of flux currently. Laws pertaining to the use, effects, and aftermath of SLC-Expressive abilities is still in its infancy. The work that the Praeger administration started and that is being continued by the current administration is still woefully inadequate for codifying a fair and equitable response for all SLC-Expressive related cases.”

Potts walks the length of the floor, gesturing as he speaks. “According to the medical files pertaining to Supreme Court case 17-37, the United States of America vs. Doctor Bella Sheridan, Eve Kendra Mas received a thorough diagnosis for her mental illness. I present to you that Ms. Mas’ diagnosis was at once incomplete and not comprehensive due to the lack of expertise in SLC-Expressive mental health science during the time of her stay with the Commonwealth Institute.”

“Furthermore,” Potts says, folding his hands in front of himself, “Ms. Mas’ exposure to the psychic phenomenon inherent in her bodily possession by the entity known as Uluru has caused further undiagnosed trauma that has not been accurately assessed by either the court or her primary physician due to both her status as a fugitive and her subsequent incarceration. Ms. Mas’ actions made under her own volition have, yes, endangered lives and cost lives. As Attorney Alonzo has outlined in detail.”

Potts spreads his hands and looks around at the justices. “It is neither fair nor equitable to sentence Ms. Mas under the same laws that are currently in revision without considering the highly unusual circumstances surrounding her mental health crisis. The extraordinary nature of Ms. Mas’ original SLC-Expressive ability and her subsequent transformations have gone both undocumented and undiagnosed. While she could receive care in a prison environment, the crimes that we are holding her accountable for may have been the result of numerous undiagnosed underlying conditions.”

“My ask to the court is that Ms. Mas be given an opportunity that she has—up until this point—been unable to take. To be able to access suitable mental healthcare in a safe, free, and comfortable environment with court-appointed restrictions on her movement and activities.” Potts says confidently, looking among the justices. “Attorney Alonzo is correct that Ms. Mas should never have been allowed to roam as she has, but swinging the pendulum back so hard in the other direction is an overreaction and oversimplification of an extremely delicate situation.”

“It is my recommendation that Ms. Mas be relocated to the Benchmark Recovery and Counseling Center in the New York City Safe Zone, appointed a counselor, and given restricted freedom of movement so long as she maintains her scheduled therapy sessions and maintains her activities in alignment with the ruling of the court.”

Potts squares his shoulders and looks to the Chief Justice. “At this time I am happy to take questions.”

“Mr. Potts, while I am moved by your sentiments regarding Ms. Mas’ mental health her documented history of flagrant disregard for the rule of law makes me highly skeptical that she would adhere to any court-appointed schedule if she were granted even a modicum of personal freedoms.” Chief Justice Thornton says, leaning forward to her mic.

“Furthermore,” she goes on to say, “if we release Ms. Mas from custody and she runs as she has a history of doing from law enforcement—if she injures or harms another person through action, inaction, or otherwise—that loss of life is on us. On everyone in this room.”

“Well, Ms. Chief Justice,” Potts takes a pause to collect his thoughts, “I think that when you give a hypothetical like that you just have to bear in mind that this is a totality-of-the-circumstances inquiry. So, yes, I could imagine a reckless escape might totally shift the situation in the way you're describing. But, again, these actions are potentially the result of undiagnosed mental illness and I believe Ms. Mas is aware that there would be no coming back from another attempt at eluding the law.”

Chief Justice Thornton leans into her mic. “Thank you Mr. Potts. Attorney Alonzo, did you have followup?”

Alonzo nods and slides out of his seat while Potts returns to Eve’s side.

As Potts continues on and delivers his defense of Eve, there are nods and eyebrows raised at certain points from the woman. He's going the insanity angle.

Couldn't have said it better myself!

Honestly, more docs?

Gulp.

They think you'll run, you always do. Slippery egg.

This egg is cracked lady.

Ah, Alonzo is getting up and Eve's gaze narrows, "Great job Potty," Slapping his shoulder as the man returns to his seat but her eyes don't leave the opposition. "Should he really get a chance to speak again before me? Seems like he's got a you know what for me," Trying to whisper to Potts.

Eve doesn't usually need anyone to defend her, she's perfectly capable of flabbing her lips and getting herself into more trouble or sometimes miraculously out but all of the things said about her do cause even more of a damper on her mood.

She had lived through unspeakable trauma since she was a child, viewing the world through a magical looking glass. It had warped her mind and Eve had also grown jaded and resentful of the people she repeatedly tried to save by losing her mind for them. This perhaps, isn't the best time to have that sort of epiphany but there the dark haired woman sits, her expression twisting more and more as she stews on her life and the circumstances surrounding it.

In the deep, dark depths of her spiraling mood an idea begins to blossom from the pit of her stomach, slowly spreading to her toes and the tips of her fingers.

Ah HA.

Oh dear.

“Your defense hinges on you not uh,” Potts glances to the Justices and back to Eve, “you know, talking. Just—to be safe?” He flashes her a smile, nervous, the way one might around an unfamiliar dog with very sharp teeth.

By now Alonzo has come to stand in front of his table. “Ms. Chief Justice,” he says as one of the other attorneys at his table is texting something quickly, “I’d like to call an expert witness to deliver testimony. Would Agent Rhys Bluthner please enter the chambers?”

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Potts exhales a sigh through his nose as he hears Rhys’ name called, and he twists to watch as the doors to the chambers are open and a very nervous Rhys walks in holding a ring-bound document in his hands. The one single look he gives at Eve is apologetic.

Rhys approaches the Attorney’s table and takes a seat beside Alonzo’s partner. “Agent Bluthner, the Justices have before them a complete report on Eve Mas from the Department of Homeland Security and SESA, as compiled by you. And, Agent, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph four?”

“You’re requesting that I read specific selections from my report?” Rhys asks with a quick, furtive look to Eve, then back to Attorney Alonzo.

“Yes, sir.”

“It was my understanding that I was going to be testifying in a much more comprehensive and detailed manner.” Rhys says with a tightness in his voice.

“I understand. A lot of things have changed today.” Alonzo says with a motion to Rhys. “So if you could just read—”

“You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context does not reflect the summary of my final—”

“Just read it, Agent. Thank you.” Alonzo snips.

Rhys takes in a deep breath and mutters, “Fine,” in the mic at his table and flips open the report to the requested page. “…as we are unable to classify the extent to which the entity Uluru may or may not have modified, altered, or augmented Eve Mas during her time as host, it is my belief that…” Rhys swallows tensely, rubbing a hand over his forehead, “…that Eve Mas presents a potential threat to the security of both the nation and to her own well-being.”

Rhys looks up to the justices. “I did however, go on to summarise that the benefits of Eve Mas’ foresight and asymmetrical thinking outweighs potential liabilities and it would be—”

“That’s enough Agent Bluthner.” Attorney Alonzo tries to talk over him.

“—in our best interests to fold Ms. Mas into the operations of the Department of—”

That’s enough Agent Bluthner.” Alonzo says even louder than before.

“—the Department of the Exterior’s Office of External Investigations.”

Once Rhys has gotten his full sentence out he sits back, fixing Alonzo with a dagger-eyed glare. Alonzo draws in a calming breath and looks to the Justices.

“Mr. Bluthner,” Justice Thornton addresses Rhys, “in your report you indicate that you have spoken to Secretary Jones of the DoE regarding Ms. Mas’ potential placement.”

“With all due respect Ms. Chief Justice,” Alonzo tries to get between Rhys and Justice Thornton, “I don’t think—”

“I am speaking to your expert. If you speak over me again I will have you thrown out of this hearing.” Thornton asserts, and Alonzo backs down. With a blink, she redirects her attention to Rhys. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, Ms. Chief Justice.” Rhys says with a tremor of anger from being blindsided by Alonzo still in his voice.

“Is Secretary Jones here?” Thornton asks the other justices, and a murmur comes through the few people in the chamber. Then, from behind Eve, a meek voice speaks up.

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“I am present, Ms. Chief Justice.” The voice comes from a tall, balding man with the physique of a scarecrow, raising one hand and smiling as he alights from his seat.

“Please approach,” Thornton says with a motion to the floor by Alonzo.

“Please,” Potts whispers as he leans over to Eve, “trust me.”

A friend!

A friend whose neck she held a knife to once to ensure passage of her friends and an interdimensional being into this world.

But a friend nonetheless!

Rhys' apologetic look is shrugged off casually by Eve, she knows he's told what to do by the government dudes, it can't be helped. Then he reads the paragraph and she momentarily looks offended, mouth dropped open and eyes wide: Agent Fancypants… you didn't! But he did and the woman is looking now at the Justice and Alonzo and then Rhys and then Potts. "Oh I trust ya silly!" Eve whispers back to the man with the nervous smile. "But I hope you've brought the big guns to win, honk-"

Then a very, "What a tall dude…" Pitching her head upwards as Jones makes himself known and approaches the bench. So this was the children's boss. He didn't look like it, maybe the height secured his position, maybe he killed someone to rise in the ranks. Eve runs through the multiple possibilities surrounding how this man came to be where he is and what his motives actually were but finds that there's just no time to get lost in her daydreams. She's gotta stay present, or these people might pull a fast one on her. Placement.

"Hello Jonesy!" Waving her hand excitedly as the man approaches, angling her gaze down to the floor she tries to ascertain what kind of shoes the tall man is wearing, her father had taught her that you could tell a lot about a person by the shoes they wear.

Has to be loafers.

Jones looks at Eve the way someone might a shark behind glass. Comfortable, secure, safe; because the shark can’t get out. But the tight, nervous smile he gives her shows that he’s just as afraid of Eve as some of the other members of the court are.

“Secretary Jones,” Thornton says as she folds her hands in front of herself, “is it correct that you were given recommendation by Agent Bluthner to fold Eve Mas in to the Office of External Investigations?”

“It is, Ms. Chief Justice,” Jones agrees with an incline of his head into a nod. “I received the same report you have in front of you and I spoke, at length, with Agent Bluthner about his assessment and corroborated that, based on currently classified intelligence that isn’t cleared for this chamber, it would be in the nation’s best interests.”

“Can you furnish that information to us, Secretary?”

“I can start the necessary gears turning, yes.” He concedes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I believe Ms. Mas is a potentially critical asset to national security.”

Chief Justice Thornton nods, then looks down at the report in front of her. “To what extent would Ms. Mas be involved, and how much freedom would she be given?”

“Part-time consultation is my current recommendation,” Jones says with a wobble of his head from side to side, “but there is also consideration of classified field work pertaining to the entity Uluru that was vetted by the President this morning.” He reaches inside his blazer and removes a sealed envelope. “If I may?” He asks, motioning ahead. Justice Thornton waves him over, and Jones walks up and hands her the envelope.

As she opens the envelope, Justice Thornton follows up with another question. “And how much free movement would Ms. Mas be allowed in an arrangement such as this?”

“To be decided,” Jones says diplomatically. “But I believe the Department of the Exterior could come to an agreement with the Justice Department that meets at an agreeable middle.”

Thornton reads over the letter once opened, then hands it down to one of her colleagues to read. “In light of Agent Bluthner’s recommendation and the request from Secretary Jones, authorized by President Joshua Harding, pending agreement from Ms. Mas’ council and an agreement between this court and the Department of the Exterior, I am calling this matter closed.”

“Ms. Mas, you will be returned to government custody pending your agreement to agreed upon terms as outlined by the Justice Department.” Thornton states directly, addressing Potts as she does.

“Understood, Ms. Chief Justice,” Potts states. Alonzo says nothing, looking beyond frustrated as he slaps his notes down on the desk and looks at his colleague in marked disbelief. “Thank you.”

“This session is adjourned.” Thornton says into the mic, and a din of voices from the observing crowd rises to full volume. Around the same time, Sage comes over to the table Eve and her attorney sit at with a knowing smile.

The proceedings don't bore Eve, if anything she's leaning out of her seat and almost over the table. Straining to hear what's being uttered plain as day.

Limited freedom.

Gee Golly Gosh they did it girl!

As Alonzo slams his hand on the table so does Eve but she hops to her feet and grins at the Justice, "I knew I liked your hair!" Wiggling her fingers at the woman from under her chin with a snort. "Thank you to the court and this country, I shall do my best to avert the classified thing that we are not speaking of at this time, oh no. Not fooling a fooler."

She chuckles as if she's unveiled some master plan against her and then turns her head to grin at Sage, "See, easy peasy." Eve rolls her eyes playfully and tilts her head, looking over Potts and then Sage before settling her gaze on Jones. "…thanks dearies."

Something smacks Eve in the brain and she gasps, "Do I get a badge?"

Agent Mas

The beginnings of a daydream with Eve dressed in tight leather, doing flips and shooting bad guys all while donning a bright red bob threaten to overtake the woman.

Chief Justice Thornton fixes Eve with a look, but then smiles to herself and threads a curly lock of dark hair behind one ear and picks up the folio in front of her. At the table, Potts exhales a sigh of relief and looks over to Sage, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

“Thank you Ms. Abernathy, we couldn’t have pulled this off without your department’s help.” He admits with a reluctant shake of his head. Secretary Jones does not come to join in the celebration, but instead acknowledges Sage with a nod, straightens his tie, and begins filing for the exit.

It’s there that Eve sees someone looming on the periphery of the session, standing beside the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. A man with one eye shrouded behind an eye patch, dressed in a sleek black suit. He smiles, a small, subtle thing, and steps into the crowd of people filing for the exit, disappearing from sight.

It would seem that Eve had a number of people pulling for her.

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For better or worse.


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