Participants:
| Scene Title | Weird Shit Happens |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | After spending the night at a crime scene, Nash decides to get some rest — until someone comes a knockin' |
| Date | February 16, 2010 |
It was a crazy night. The election and the death of candidate Chesterfield kept Christopher Nash up most of the night. By the time he fell into his bed, the sunlight had just come up. He slept for a few hours, letting noon slip when his phone went off. He glances at the text, then responds with a groan. "Meet me at my place." With that, he crawls out of bed and heads over to the shower. He steps in, cleans up, dries off and starts dressing again, moving into the kitchen to start some coffee. He turns on the new channel to see what they're reporting compared to what he already knows while he waits for his guest to arrive.
She's starting to think she's going to get an ulcer with this amount of strain. When Nash opens the door, Elisabeth is outside in jeans and a heavy leather jacket, a hat jammed over her head and snow boots encasing her feet. "Hey," she says somewhat grimly. "You look like shit. Did you get any sleep?" She knows exactly what kept him up all night — the same thing that stressed her out when she woke this morning.
Motioning for her to come in, Nash closes the door behind her. "I got a few hours, I should be good after some coffee. Want some?" He hasn't even put on his tie yet, the top few buttons still left undone as he moves to grab a couple of cups from the cupboard, and begins to fill them. He has some stools at the counter where he sets a cup in front of for her to sit and takes one across from her as he adds just a little sweetener to his. "What are you doing in this neck of the woods again? I thought they shipped you out?" Nash is obviously not nearly as stressed out about recent events as she is as he seems to take a rather non-chalant tone with her.
"Love some, sure." Elisabeth walks through to his kitchenette and drops onto the stool. "Nah, we got shipped home early due to some… I don't know. Some stellar success at team-building, I guess." She grins a little. "We done good, got to come home. Now they're insisting I gotta live on base and shit, but …. I figure I'll let things settle and then push the boundaries on that one a bit. If we're not actually on constant patrol, there's no reason to require that really." She takes the coffee he offers and studies him over the rim of the cup as she sips. "I promised if all hell broke loose, I'd give you the all-inclusive version of the information. I think Chesterfield's death may in fact be connected."
"I figured you weren't here to be social. Though, I did change the sheets this morning." Nash gives her a smirk. "I'm sure it was no coincidence that I get a text from you the morning after she died. Are you trying to say there's something that connects this to what you were having me look into?" He's giving her that 'what the fuck?' look now. "I'm not sure what shit this is that you got me all wrapped up in, but after looking into this I've got a whole lotta nothing here. If there's something more you think I should know, it might be a good time to tell me because this trail is running cold as hell."
A silence bubble goes up around the two of them, though it's more than a little overkill. Still… "Remember that very ugly, very bad classified situation?" Elisabeth sighs. "So.. here's the thing. A small group of us were sent to Russia, Chris, to operate on foreign soil and bring down a Vanguard cell over there. During the course of that investigation…. things went a good bit south. I wound up killing a kid. And based on the available evidence now, at least two members of that cell are actively in Manhattan, and probably pissing in the NYPD's corn flakes." She moves to pull two pictures from her pocket. "This is Sasha Kozlow. He's an Evo healer of sorts — not like Abby was a healer. His ability leaves scar tissue, but it'll close a wound. This," she points to the second, "is Carlisle Dreyfus. He is, so far as we are aware, not Evo… and it was his son that I killed. Kozlow is the one who wants Abby for a plaything, and Dreyfus….. it would not shock me to learn that he's behind the attacks on the parents of two of the members of my team in Russia, and possibly Tanya as well. Maybe because he thought she was Abby, maybe because he thought it would hurt Abby…. I don't know. It's still possible that Tanya was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I didn't want you concentrating your efforts on my paranoia. Jenn Chesterfield's death makes me think that was the wrong call."
Nash listens intently throughout the explanation. He slowly sips at his coffee, then blinks as she tries to connect Tanya to Chesterfield. "Wait. How would those be related? Were you aware of a threat to Chesterfield? Some of what you say makes a hell of a lot of sense, but really? Really? Shouldn't the feds be involved or something? Or maybe your little group of commandos? Isn't this what you guys are supposed to be for?" That might come across a little more derogatory than he intended. "I mean, you guys go into another country and piss off some folks, you'd think that you'd be tracking the fact that they could come after some of you? And I've no clue how Beauchamp is involved in all of this." Seems she's given Nash has more questions than answers at the moment.
With a faint smile, Elisabeth says softly, "My little group of feds is already aware, so is Homeland Security, so is my group of commandos. But I promised you if things looked like they were related, I wouldn't hold out on you. And this is me keeping my promise, Nash. I didn't know anything about a definite threat. Still not sure there's a definite threat…. but I'd rather be safe than bury my father. I've got people watching him. Gabe MacNamara from SCOUT and whoever he grabs who wants extra cash. But in this case, I wanted to put you guys onto the trail of at least Dreyfus — you might be able to find out where he's staying if you ask around. Someone at Old Lucy's might have seen him or something, now that you have a face. If he's even tied to the Tanya thing, which I just don't know. Either way, it means you can keep your eyes peeled, right?"
Nash stands up and sets his cup in the sink and returns to his chair, shaking his head. "I'm not trying to antagonize you, but shit.. This could get so much worse before it gets better. I'll definitely keep my eyes and ears open, but I hope you guys can find these assholes before they do something more. I mean, shit, if its them and they killed a mayoral candidate, that's pretty fucking big. I realize you guys did some big secret shit over there, but now it's here and someone's going to start looking into this mess." He doesn't want to be around if this ever gets to press. "You know me, I'll help when I can."
"I wish I knew what more to tell you. The best I can give you is to put a BOLO out on these two. Make up something they're Persons-of-Interest for and tell people not to approach, merely observe and report back?" Elisabeth says softly, "If nothing else, it can't hurt to have the PD looking for them."
Nash nods. "Well, I've got a dead candidate on my hands. I guess the lucky part is that she didn't die after getting elected. If you hear about anything, give me a heads up." He pushes away from the counter, standing up to walk over and pick out a tie and tying it around his neck, then grabs a jacket. "How long are you in town for?" He already plans to put out the scoop on these guys. He'll have to ask if they have any photos or descriptions.
Nash nods. "Well, I've got a dead candidate on my hands. I guess the lucky part is that she didn't die after getting elected. If you hear about anything, give me a heads up." He pushes away from the counter, standing up to walk over and pick out a tie and tying it around his neck, then grabs a jacket. "How long are you in town for?" He already plans to put out the scoop on these guys. He sits on a chair near his doorway and slips on his shoes.
There's a grimace. "Don't tie them to the mayoral thing. It's too high-profile, Chris. Something smaller. A B&E or something. And I'm back in town permanently. You've got my cell." She moves to stand up, waiting for him to be ready and simply walking out with him. "If I get anything, I'll call."
It doesn't take him much longer and he's ready to go out. He opens the door for her. "I have your number. Don't worry. If some weird shit happens, I'm calling you first." Nash gives her a grin at that, and waits for her to walk out before closing the door behind him and securing it. "With any luck, you'll hang these guys before we ever have to worry about them."
"From your lips to God's ear, Nash," Elisabeth murmurs. Because if they go after her father, there will be Hell. To. Pay.