Starring:
Summary: Linderman pays Charlotte a visit.
Date It Happened: February 7th, 2008
A Sunny Breakfast
Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey
Morning light filters cleanly through the windows of Pinehearst Research, where it makes bright the face of one Daniel Linderman. So it would seem, of course. In a neat black suit, the white-haired, white-bearded man stands with his hands clasped under the small of his back at the front of the lobby, regarding the ice-touched garden outside and seeming quite at peace with the world.
Charlotte is just bustling into the lobby for a new day of work. She has a file-holder, half-full, in her arms as she goes. She wears her ID badge proudly, and doesn't even have a coat here. After all, why should she need one? She simply teleported in a few moments ago, and is walking through the lobby. A jerk of her head flips some hair back from her face as she goes.
"Did you know that without sunlight, humans become morose and suffer from depression?" The More You Know. The voice is one of awe, reverence for the light coming through the window. It's also very close to Charlotte, as Linderman stands near the doors during his viewing of the gardens. "It's so pure, sunlight. Everything becomes innocent and clean in the light of day. It's the stuff of renewal." He turns, tucking his hands into his pockets and smiling. "Good morning, Charlotte. Beautiful, isn't it?" A small, sweeping gesture back to the chilly and bright outside world.
Charlotte turns, a little surprised to just see him there. "It is. I always liked it. I spent about two years in Washington State, learned an awful lot about how to appreciate light there." She says, a dimpled smile coming across her features. "It'd be a lot nicer, though, if it weren't so cold." She goes quiet, letting the man talk before they get down to the business she knows is coming.
"Why worry about the cold when you can take a warm vacation anywhere in the world at a moment's notice," Linderman says with an easy smile. "Myself, I always liked the islands, myself." He gives pause, wherein his expression becomes ever-so-slightly more serious, holding more gravity. "Speaking of hot climates, I believe it's time we put the trouble with your friend in Africa to rest."
Charlotte shrugs with a smirk. "Well I'm always at your service is you and the family need a quick getaway." She offers, turning to face him fully as he brings up the business. "You read my report….about the rebels?" She filed one, particularly emphasizing the point about how Ndugu agreed to come if they saved the village. One hand comes up, pushing some hair back behind her ear. The dangly earrings she wears, the kind that cna be used for dramatic fish lures, jingle.
Linderman makes no comment on the offer of tropical travel, moving right along to the order of business. "Yes, and I believe we can help Mister … Ndugu. His ability is quite the asset; not to mention the plight of his village is … heartbreaking, to say the least." Wise blue eyes never leave Charlotte. They're watching her heartstrings. "Given the dangerous territory, Pinehearst will arrange assistance for you."
"I was hoping for that, the assistance. I have the names of the children. Who will be coming with me?" She asks, lowering the files. Indeed, her heart-strings are pulled. But surely he knew they would be, it was written all over her report and all over her eyes now. Those poor children. "I was doing some reading….apparently these rebels inject the children with drugs, and begin to train then for fighting. I think the sooner we get them out, the better." She says, clearly but softly. She turns her head a little, the light catching one of those earrings.
"Indeed. It's a tragic tale of human folly," Linderman says. Sunlight still basks the man's face, as the lobby is so open, so airy, in the daytime. "Members of our security team," he answers, "And perhaps someone who is as skilled in extraction as are you."
Charlotte cocks her head to the side, earrings jingling again. "The other teleporter?" She asks, openly. After all, that's the only one that she can think of who might be there. "Is there going to be someone to handle the bullets, perhaps?" She asks, her voice wavering slightly. "I think that if we go in early in the morning, say four or so, most of the rebels will be not in the best shape." High and drunk and passed out. "But still, it's the bullets that worry me most."
Linderman does not confirm exactly who will be accompanying Charlotte on this endeavour, but he does smile reassuringly. "You'll be taken care of. The last thing we want is anyone getting hurt. Be prepared to leave at a moment's notice; as soon as the details are set, it will be time for a field trip."
Charlotte nods a few times. "I'm ready whenever, I'm ready already." She promises. "The sooner the better." Because if they start sending the children to different camps, or training them to kill, or getting them addicted to drugs. She looks over her shoulder, then back to the man.
"Good." Linderman nods once in accolade. "Someone will make the call when it's time." The man begins to stroll past Charlotte, through the lobby, but stops to point back at her. "Don't forget to eat breakfast," he tells her matter-of-factly, "It's the most important meal of the day." He smiles, considering, shakes his finger as he nods in agreement with his own statement and proceeds to calmly walk into the depths of the facility.
Charlotte can't help but smirk. She didn't get to ask him that one question that she wanted to, but there will always be another time. A call will come in, he promised. Perhaps she can find out then. Once he's gone, she turns and makes her way her own way towards the offices.