2007-06-16: Advent


Ramon_icon.gif Desiree_icon.gif Cass_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Guest Starring: Elena Gomez, John Carter, Billy Jones

Summary: Banking on the Haitian's tip, and Benjamin's help, Ramon makes it to the address in Brooklyn with some backup. They make a shocking discovery…..and fall for the bait.

Date It Happened: June 16, 2007


Brooklyn, New York

The date is June 16, 2007. The time is morning, 7:00.

The address given to Ramon, thanks to Benjamin Accounting Records Powers, is a small brownstone located in Brooklyn. The shopfront is taken up by a sign: CARTER PLUMBING, and for the most part, it looks empty. There looks to be one apartment flat of some kind located on the two-story building, on the upper floors. Vehicles are parked in front of it, but probably some other New Yorkers stealing someone's parking space. All is quiet in the Western front.

While the windows are undraped on the lower floor of the business, the apartment level's windows are. Already suspicious - who wouldn't want a gorgeous sunny day inside their home?

The plan had been pretty simple from Ramon's perspective. Peter was going to keep himself, Cass, and Dezi invisible. Dezi's powers might trigger and show them something important to know. Cass might have the analytical skills. And he is going to stand out of sight and use the /other/ senses he has, scanning this place for the thoughts of those who might be inside. So he's squatting down behind the New Yorker's car, which is not a bad spot to be in so long as the thing remains parked.

At the lightpost across the street from the building they're staking out are three people. Of course, nobody would be able to know that just by looking, since those three people are invisible. Cass probably shouldn't be out at a stake out, she should be at home doing bed rest, but she's not about to let the people who took her friend's mother away just wander free and not help. She's ready and waiting, keeping her eyes out for whatever it is she can see

With a hand on each of the women, Peter's looking as if he's straining a bit. Two people are stretching the limits of this particular ability, but it's not falling apart just yet. It'd be easier if the women were shorter. Limited entirely to this one ability, all he can do is direct his eyes towards the building and watch, waiting for any kind of mental instructions Elena's father might give him. The key to being invisible, as he'd have told them, is to remain quiet as possible. Which means no chitchat, unfortunately.

Desiree is not entirely sure what is going on at any given point in time during this operation so far. While Ramon hopes she'll be useful, and while she's normally optimistic, she's /less/ optimistic when it comes to, oh… herself and her ability to do anything right, such as find a psychic clue at an opportune time. "So…" Here we have Dezi, standing with Peter, who she barely knows, and Cass who she just met, and apparently they're invisible. She stares intently at the building across the street, continuously pressing her lips together in a nervous habit and trying not to say anything. She fails. "…have any of y'all— 'kay sorry, I'll be quiet."

When Ramon does a quick sweep of surface thoughts, he would find nothing. The building in front of them, thankfully, is empty. There is a sign in the front door that says: 'CLOSED. WILL RETURN AT NOON' as the 'plumber' seems to have gone out to come calling on a few houses. This may or may not be worrisome to Ramon….but at least he has a good idea now as to -how- he manages to know his victims' houses so well.

The business underneath is dark - no lights are on, so it's a safe bet that there really is no one there. The apartment upstairs, however, have the drapes shut. But since Ramon has managed to sweep the building, it's a safe bet that there's no one home…

Unless they're sleeping.

The business's van is nowhere in sight though.

Ramon considers this for a moment. He then sends a thought to the three watchers. *There's nobody home. Do you guys want to come in with me or keep watch?* He'll leave it up to them, and more specfically the mental tone of the question seems aimed mostly at Peter, who is the one straining. For his part he gets up and darts around to the back of the building. *There's a door back here.* He tries it.

Well, depending on what's going on, maybe someone should stay outside and watch to keep watch to alert people. Since there's nobody home, they don't have to worry about that. However, Cass isn't sure how she would get a message across should she see those people. Peter could, but she also doesn't like the idea of Ramon going in alone. And if Peter goes in, they lose their invisibility. *You shouldn't go in alone…* she thinks loudly, hoping that it'll be enough for him to pick up.

"It's okay," Peter whispers to the woman who can't keep from speaking, a little amused even though there's a chance they could get found out talking like this— "Not like anyone is around to hear us, right?" They should have been able to notice anyone getting close enough for that. Whispering helps to. At Ramon's projection, he straightens a little, glancing over in his direction. Straining? Yes, but still… "Let's go." *I can handle it.* he sends to the telepath, keeping a hold on the women's hands and starts to lead them inside to join the telepath.

Dezi instinctively looks in the direction Ramon is in, squinting, looking both concerned and unnerved. As the others try to send their thoughts through the airwaves, so to speak - not that she can hear them - she frowns. *We're comin,* she thinks as strong as she can. Even her mental voice has a Mississippi accent. She starts following Peter's lead, keeping a tight hold on his hand. Soon after they reach Ramon, she holds up her free hand in a 'hold up!' gesture. With a furrowed brow, the woman, who… may still be invisible, she has no idea, stares down at the mat in front of the door. It says 'WELCOME HOME' — and to Dezi, it says more than that. "Wait," she says unsurely, then more firmly, "The mat. Ramon, look under the mat."

When Ramon tries the doorknob, it is locked and secure. There's a small window in the door that shows him that there, in the dark confines of the back area of the brownstone, is a flight of stairs leading upwards. Thankfully, Dezi's power kicks in, because when Ramon looks under the mat, he would find….

A key.

A key that would fit into the lock he was just jiggling.

Whenever he opens the door, there is a fine layer of dust - dust that's disturbed. Either the occupant was a lazy bastard, or the dust could have been there and the current tenant just didn't bother dusting. The stairs leading to the upstairs area is wood. There is a hall that branches out in front of them leading into the storefront of the plumbing business. There is a desk that's visible there, a phone, tools…. it actually looks like a legitimate business.

The stairs leads up to a single door at the end of a short hallway.

Ramon nods as Dezi proves her worth right away. "Alright," he says. "Lets divide and conquer because we don't have much time. Cass, you and Peter go check out the storefront. In particular lets try to get a receipt book, or appointment book, or anything that would tell us which houses he's been to. Dezi, you're with me, we're going to take the door up. If there's any signs of trouble, Peter and I can communicate with each other." He heard Peter the very clearest.

When Desi speaks, Cass tilts her head over and nods at her. "Good call," she smiles at Desiree and then down at the mat where Ramon finds the key. When Ramon tells them to split up and stay in pairs, she nods her head. Breaking and entering kind of makes her nervous - especially if they weren't dealing with a puppet master who ruins lives - and she wants this to be over and done with (hopefully with happy results) as soon as possible. "Okay. Just…be careful," she tells the two before glancing over at Peter and then down the hallway. She waits for her partner and then heads for the plumbing store, keeping a hand over her mouth to try and keep the dust from choking her.

There's a cough at the dust, one that he tries to hide. But with his hands occupied, he can't even do that. This is a different kind of 'divide and conquer' but Peter doesn't say that. Instead as they're stepping inside, looking around, he nods— a gesture that can't be seen or heard by Ramon, and then says, "All right." Letting go of Desiree's hand, she'll fade back into visibility for Ramon. Nothing changes for him and Cass, but for her, they vanish. "Yeah, be careful up there. We'll stay invisible unless I need to do something else." Moving along with Cass, he adds in the same whispered tone, "I guess this counts as invisibility practice, huh?" It's almost a joke, before he starts to look around. Reciepts, appointbooks, invoices… With a free hand, he tries to cover his mouth, but— they are going to need both their hands for this, aren't they? There's a pause, before he says, "This would be easier if we could use both hands," through his own hand, before he fades into visibility and releases her hand. Hopefully nothing bad will happen. "Just stay close to me."

When Peter and Cass look around the storefront…..they find log books, arranged neatly on the shelves behind the desk, right across from the tools that are hanging on the wall on the other side. Lots and lots of log books. But whenever they open them up….they're all -empty-. What the hell? If the guy was a serial killer who spent his days as a plumber running a legitimate business, there would be something. But there isn't any.

What sort of game was this?

When Ramon tries the upstairs door, it's locked. The key he has from the back door opens just the back door.

The silence pervades. But it's a thick sort of quietness, a living thing that could shift at any moment. If anyone believed in new age stuff, it's as if all the negativity that's happened in this place took some form of life of it's own. So while it's quiet….it's not comfortable.

Dezi looks every which way as she slips into the dusty building as if expecting a gun-wielding stranger to jump out from every shadow, because, well, she has good reason to believe that's the norm for whoever might own this business. "Okay," she says quietly and steps up beside Ramon, shimmering into view. "Oh we will," she tells the others over her shoulder, double-taking when she can't see anyone. She flashes what looks like thin air an encouraging smile all the same. Following Ramon, she shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, eyeing the locked door. "I got a bad feelin' about this… what're we gonna do now?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper. "Ain't nothin' careful about breakin' a door down."

"I don't know. I was at a frat party on the day they ran the Lockpick 101 seminar," Ramon admits. He takes out a swiss army knife, shrugging. "It always worked for my boy MacGuyver." But instead of going to pick the lock, he starts trying to unscrew the doorknob right out of the door. Sure, it will sort of hang there openly to a point cause the door is locked, but then he can push the tumblers aside.

There's a quiet laugh that Cass gives Peter for his joke. It's good to have some sort of lightheartedness about this. Especially since she feels like her heart may just jump out of it's ribcage for being here. As soon as he lets go of her hand, she nods. "It'll be easier this way," she agrees. And should anything happen, they can hopefully just kick up a lot of dust and run for the hills. She picks up book after book and flips through them quickly…but there isn't anything to flip through. This makes her suspicious and…wary. "Peter. I don't know if…I think this is wrong. If this guy was trying to present himself as a proper front, this place wouldn't be this dusty. And the books wouldn't be empty." She holds up the book and flips through the blank pages as an example. "I think we need to get out of here. This doesn't feel right."

"Yeah— it obviously isn't being used," Peter glances towards the windows, guessing that those must be what the appearances are for, but— she's right. It doesn't feel right. Not that he really noticed until she said something. "It doesn't look like we'll find anything here." *The books are blank, Ramon* he sends in his direction, this time by benifit of his own ability. No longer relying on invisibility. *This place isn't being used for business.* Which should have been obvious from the dust, but now is more obvious that it has /never/ been used since they set up the front.

Oh yes, it's wrong. Cass is right. Something is wrong here.

As Ramon pulls a MacGyver, he's able to remove the doorknob, and push the tumblers aside. He would hear the click, indicating a success. The door swings in slowly, creaking as it goes……..the sound echoes across the quiet building. Inside, it's dim - not too dark considering it was a bright and sunny day outside, but with the drapes shut, the scene looks RIGHT out of the movie Se7en, if anyone's ever seen it. While the floors are dusty, it's not overly so - someone was actively living in there, judging by the footprints on the hardwood floors.

The narrow hallway continues - there's a bathroom that branches off to the right, a small room, and it's got the most fundamental hygiene products there, for both a woman and a man. The hallway continues until it opens up to a living area. There is one couch, a coffee table, and a wide piece of carpet underneath it. This is on the eastern side of the living area. The western side has what Ramon may find familiar - a kitchen, a very basic one. A scene he would recognize from the conscious thoughts of Mary Jones, with her and her husband sitting woodenly around the same table, while the bald figure cooked a meal.

Next to the kitchen is another door. This may or may not be the bedroom. But there's also another door, at the end of the small hall branching from the living room side of the room.

"… Well. You do seem to know a lot about /securin'/ a door, I guess it goes in both directions." Desiree leans to one side to carefully peek around Ramon before she carefully, reluctantly, sets foot in the living zone. "…Istillhaveabadfeelingaboutthis…" she murmurs under her breath and through her teeth as she makes her way down the hallway. The sturdy high heels of her boots make more noise than she'd like on the hardwood floor. She skims the living room and eyes the door to, presumably, the bedroom, then the other hallway. Neither option A nor B comfort her particularly. She tips her head toward them, brows arched in question.

"This is where he kept the thralls," Ramon says grimly. "And they're not here." *Then please come up here and help me search.* He can't keep the uneasiness out of his mental voice. "Dezi," he says, "If I were a psychopath who was one step ahead of my hunter, you know what I'd do? I'd put a bunch of blank books out front to give my hunter the finger, and then I'd rig a huge ass trap. Do you mind seeing if you can't peek and see if there's a big boom in the future? That would be good to know." This doesn't stop him from opening the door though. He /has/ to squeeze whatever he can out of this source.

Closing the books and then putting them back - there's no use carrying around an empty book - Cass turns and nods at Peter. "Yeah. I think…I dunno. How is Ramon and Desiree faring?" Because that would be better. Already she's starting for the stairs so that they can join up. Because a large group together is better than being caught unawares separated. At least in her mind. She's careful to stick by Peter, though, as she doesn't want to be too far from her partner. That's what gets you killed in movies.

"He wants us to go upstairs and help, since there's nothing down here," Peter explains to Cass outloud, before he gestures for her to follow and makes his way up to join the other two, with a broadcasted: *On our way.* Yeah, his mental voice is definitely louder than the others. But he has gotten used to it with his own telepathic ability. *We're not invisible anymore.* he adds on, just so the other man doesn't jump at shadows. Though creaking floor boards will give them away too.

When Ramon opens the door adjacent to the living room, and down the hall, he would find someone sprawled on the bed, his eyes glazed as they stare towards the telepath. His face….is -familiar-. Ramon has encountered him several times. He's dressed in a rumpled shirt, and a pair of comfortable-looking pants. While he's not restrained in any way, he clearly can't move. A trail of dried saliva is evident on the corner of his mouth.

Billy Jones, father of Nima and Lee Jones, stares at Ramon. While his eyes are open, they are foggy. Ragged breaths make his chest ease up and down.

"….h…..elp……me…." comes the hoarse whisper. On the bedside table, there is a row of syringes, set up neatly on the rack. Someone was considerate enough to take the man's glasses to set it on the bedside table. The room is a furnished bedroom, just the basics, with a bed, a bedside table, a lamp, a closet. Nothing else….or so it seems. His shoes are situated neatly on one corner next to a trashcan. If anyone looks in it, there's one item int here, and that is a spent syringe.

"Trap? Peek? I can't— " Dezi starts to follow after Ramon, her footfalls becoming more muffled as they hit the carpet of the living room. She hesitates, staring at the coffee table - or more specifically, underneath it. A blur… patterns moving together but-there's no time. "Wait, Ramon!" she calls out in a half-whisper and hurries along the hall to follow. Being separated is what gets you killed in movies, Cass is wise there, but so is rushing through mysterious doors alone. And this is lucky mystery door number three. "… Oh sweet Jesus. That poor man again," she utters as she appears behind Ramon, staring at the form of Billy Jones. Her first instinct is to go to his side to check his vitals - and that's exactly what she tries to do, barely glancing round the rest of the room.

"CASS," Ramon roars, physically rather than in the noggin. He steps back to give both women some room to work. He remembers Cass had a medical background too (given his dating history he's going to smack anyone who makes a playing doctor joke), and he figures two hands are better than one. At least, there's always a whole freaking team hovering on ER.

Cautious, that's the way Cass is playing this. She makes sure that she's just a little behind Peter since she figures he'll be able to handle anything thrown physically at them. However, that all goes out the door the moment she hears Ramon bellowing her name. All but shoving past Peter, she goes dashing as fast as she can following the voice. "Owowowow," she mutters to herself as she runs, a hand pressing against her chest that is mostly healed, but still aching. Bursting into the room, she quickly takes in the scene. Syringes. Drool. Mr. Jones. Oh God, Mr. Jones. "Syringes. He took something. We need to find out what he took. How is his pulse?" Since Desiree is already checking that, she does a quick search and comes up with a bottle: Bromazepam. "He's been tranquilized. He's….Mr. Jones! Can you follow my fingers?" The bottle still in her hand, she crouches by the bed to see how far gone he is. "He…he couldn't have taken this by himself. He /can't/ have, he'd be dead." Think think. Why would they do that to someone they already have mind controlled inject something himself? Why wouldn't he just kill him and leave the body? Because….because they needed someone alive to divert their attention? "Oh shit. Ramon, I think he's the bait."

Pretty much shoved aside so the other woman can run up when her name is called, Peter has to catch himself against the wall before he hurries up after. He's a little bit behind them. With his own medical training, he can't really add much more than they already have, but… "I might be able to neutralize some of it," he suggests, but when Cass makes a comment about him being bait, he frowns, looking around, even as he walks over and tries laying a hand on him. Surely Elena's ability can reverse some of these effects, right? Or at least make sure they're toned down enough they won't permenantly harm him.

Ramon is going to let the ladies work on him. "The bait for /what/?" he snarls. "Lets search the apartment while they work, Peter. When they need this guy moved…well. He can't go to the hospital, he'll just get snatched by the Men In Black like his wife." Now convinced nobody's coming, he starts a thorough search.

Instead of following Cass's fingers, Billy's eyes close. His head feels so heavy. All he heard were voices and he could only hope it wasn't HIM again. His head lolls on one side, as he starts drifting off to sleep. At least the tranquilizer won't kill him. Just to drop him for a few hours until the man comes back again. But all of Cass's questions are legitimate….

Perhaps even her conclusions are.

His vitals are slow when Dezi checks them, his heartbeat is low, and his breathing is deep. But so far, no problems - Bromazepam is a pretty minor sedative considering, a muscle relaxant and one that keeps one unable to move if there's enough in a person's system. But he's not going to die. He just can't get out of the apartment….

That is until Peter uses the neutralize toxins function that Elena's abilities provide. Combating what's in the man's body, his breathing becomes a little even, and his eyes flicker underneath his closed lids. Billy groans softly, and stirs, his eyes open, somewhat halflid.

Leaving the room, Ramon starts searching. On the way further into the living area towards the kitchen, there is a loud creak under the carpet. Must be loose floorboards. The other room also remains unsearched.

Desiree has one knee on the bed - hey, look, she actually wore pants for this endeavour - and is checking the man's carotid pulse. She narrows her eyes with worry at the bottle Cass brandishes. "Pulse's what you'd expect from someone who took that much of a… mnnn, whas' it… benzo-diaz-epine." She looks down, extending her sympathy down to the fellow on the bed. "Thas' why we're here Mister… Mister Jones, yeah? We're gonna help you. We're gonna help you get outta here." Dezi looks back at the others, but she's settled on staying here anyway even if it is a trap, although she keeps throwing glances over her shoulder. "Mister Jones? Can you sit up? I'ma hold you."

Ramon hadn't quite parsed that Peter was busy, but that's ok. He's now absorbed. He pulls back his foot and tries to kick through that loose floorboard, lacking anything to actually pry it up with. He's lost all worries about someone catching them at this. Mr. Jones was just left. Abandoned. Murdered.

Nodding at Desiree, Cass looks up at Peter. He was a nurse. Plus, he has the ability to heal and help people. As he just pointed out. Seeing Mr. Jones start to come out of the affects of the drug, she nods at Desiree and then at Peter. "Thanks Peter." Because if she lost Mr. Jones after having lost Mrs. Jones, she's not sure how she'd react. Or tell Nima. Just like Desiree, she's not about to leave just because now they think something bad may happen. They all thought that before, so little has changed. "We're going to help you, Mr. Jones." He's too out of it to be able to answer questions, so she doesn't even try. "I don't know. I just…this feels wrong. If he's a murderer, he shouldn't have left someone alive who can identify him."

All he needed was a few moments. Peter lets his hand fall away once he's sure the man isn't going to be worse for wear from this incident. Making sure he's not overdosed. That sort of thing. The women can easily take things from there, now that the chemicals aren't threatening him too badly. As he goes to join Ramon, he notices the man trying to kick at the floorboards and puts a hand on his arm, "I got this, Mr. Gomez." Putting his hand down near the floor, he raises it up, and tries to telekinetically pry the boards up… He's hoping to do it gently enough that they won't go flying across the room.

"I….think….so…" Thanks to Peter's borrowed ability, Billy slowly, but surely, manages to sit up. But he's still a little groggy. His head feels like a swollen watermelon, if there is such a thing. At least he isn't keeling over, and at least he can move on his own as opposed to a few minutes ago. Once he's up…….he tilts sideways to the side, but Desiree manages to hold him up. "My…where's….my wife…?" His voice sounds thick in his throat, dry and cracked besides.

Before Ramon can break his ankle trying to smash through floorboards or worse, Peter steps up to the plate again. The telekinetic grab and yank bends the wood upwards in a concave manner, before the ends snap out, one at a time. Someone seems to be handling that part of the room rather often, because now that Peter's close to it, he'd observe very little dust. Whenever he reaches in or peeks inside, he'll find something. A simple, manila folder, bound shut by a rubber band.

There is one word scrawled on the label tab, in blocky handwriting:


"Yeah…" Desiree agrees with Cass, disquieted as she glances nervously about. She holds onto Billy Jones, an arm wrapped around his broader shoulders. "There's somethin' goin' on here we ain't seein'." She keeps a firm, steadying grip on the drugged man. "She ain't here right now, but we're gonna get you to a safe spot and then we can worry about your wife. Last I saw her she was jus' fine. Okay, Mister Jones?" She's poised and ready to get the man to his feet if need be, but looking out of the room, she's not sure what's going on with the boys. "…Y'all find anythin' out there?"

Ramon's cell phone rings at that instance. It makes the Final Fantasy theme song, because Luis thought that would be a good thing to program in and Ramon hasn't had the heart, being separated from his two youngest, to take it back off in favor of something less fundamentally GEEKY. He ignores it in favor of staring down at the folder, then he glances up at Peter. There's something of sweat and anguish writ large on the deep lines of his face. He opens the folder and spills its contents out onto the floor to stare at.

Whenever the rubber band is slipped away from the folder and the cover unflipped and the contents spewed on the floor, the first thing one would see is a picture, of a beautiful, dark-haired woman with a slight smile on her face. The resemblance to a certain young, biochemical manipulator is startling, except there's an obvious difference. The photograph is clearly dated, still grainy from the photographic techniques of the early eighties. This is paperclipped to a single sheet of paper.

Name: Gomez, Catalina
Blood Type: O

Other stats are indicated, stats that Ramon knows very well. There is a notation at the bottom that says:

Gonadropin Injection administered 12 July 1987.

But other papers go spilling out. He would recognize Maria's mother, tacked with his own sheet, a stately looking black woman with the name 'Morris, Jancia' tacked onto it. And that's not all. There are other pictures. Pictures that look to be taken from a distance. The sort of pictures PI would be taking.


Ramon would recognize photographs of the Morris children at play, in front of the swingset of the property. There is a picture of Luis and his friends in the school playing on his Gameboy with his OTHER geek friends playing their own Gameboys. There's a picture of Maria, carried by DL Hawkins out of a burning elementary school.

Another picture slides along the floor, stopping at Peter's feet. Like the women in the folder, a single sheet with a photograph is tacked to it. The iridescent, christmas-lights eyes of a much younger Heidi Petrelli stares up at him, as well as newspaper articles, and pictures of her sons while their father was campaigning. The same notation can be seen:

Gonadropin Injection administered 27 February 1999.

Wincing a little when Mr. Jones mentions his wife, Cass just over at Desiree and then out into the hallway. Since the other woman has already answered for them, she's glad to not have to elaborate. "There's a lot of somethings going on here that I don't like," she sighs. And then looks over at Mr. Jones, who's making a much better recovery. "We'll get you out of here and get you some care, okay?" Then, her focus is back into the hallway. "Is everything okay out there?" Because such long silences is a bad sign.

There's always something going on without people seeing.

"Ok…ay…." Billy says hoarsely, reaching out so Desiree can support him. Unsteady feet take him up, and he leans against the woman heavily. He's lean, at least - in fact he probably looks skinnier now after all the dirty work he's being forced to do. An arm is looped around the woman's shoulders, and he takes a few, almost foal-unsteady steps for the door. "How….did……..y….find me….?"

Though the man's cellphone is going off, Peter doesn't pay attention to that, kneeling with him to look at the paper work. And the photographs. There's a long silence as his eyes slide along the words, and then fall on a set of eyes he knows very, very well. Blue eyes he's been looking at for years, since his brother brought home the young woman. There's a sharp inhale, before he reaches down and picks up that part, standing and turning away for an instant. Looks like he has more to do with this than just being asked as a favor. His face is turning pale by the moment, eyes widened and lips parting. He doesn't say anything, but he's frantically trying to figure out what this all /means/. Distracted much? Oh yeah.

Ramon's breath catches. He says something in Spanish, something alarmed and shocked and unhappy. He slips a piece of paper out from underneath Catalina's record though, as he'd spotted it, and starts to scan it. He's already got a plan formulating in response to this information, and some conclusions, but he needs to understand the rest of the evidence.

Concerned Face is prominent in the Southern woman when Ramon and Peter don't answer, save for the brief sound of Ramon's alarmed Spanish. "We got our ways. A lotta people are worried about you and wanna give the person responsible for all this mess what's comin' to 'im," she says, but even though her words are well-meaning and her tone comforting, it's all very distracted. On her feet, she moves slowly across the room toward the door. "Ramon?" she calls out. "Peter? Are you still kickin' out there?" A glance to Cass, then to the door. A sign to go check, maybe? Dezi is on her way out, too, but she's got her hands full with Billy.

The paper detached from the bottom of Catalina's 'file', if one could call it that since it's just a sheet of paper, comes off easily, the paperclip detaching completely and rolling onto the floor. There is a photograph, a much recent one, of a young woman stepping out of the Bobst Library of NYU with books in hand and looking around.

Name: Gomez, Elena
Blood Type: O
Birthdate: 28 March 1988

Her major and address is listed, including a copy of her transcript. Unlike the other pieces of paper in their possession, this one looks newer, as all the others were printed in something old, but what Ramon would recognize being an IT specialist - the other papers were somewhat yellowed, and printed on dot matrix. This one has a smoother print.

There's a scrawled, blocky notation in red. It's a single letter: A

Billy shuffles out with Desiree, bare feet padding on the floors. When his glazed eyes fall on Ramon, he blinks at him in confusion. The man….doesn't recognize him. After all of their run-ins in the mean streets of New York, he doesn't recognize him. And then, the papers on the floor. "…what…..is……where….?" Addled? Oh yes.

"I will /kill him/," Ramon snarls. In Spanish, but in a way that everyone can understand. The roar is deep and gutteral. Catalina being used as a guinea pig upsets him…he has no idea what the hormone is but he sees that he fucked with all the women way before he killed them. But Catalina is dead, mostly mourned. Elena…

"I will turn his mind into nothing. That bastard. I bet he wasn't let loose by the Company. I bet he /was/ Company, doing this on their orders. He was never their prisoner. He just went rouge, the nasty son of a bi…"

And then he seems to get a total picture, spotting one of the Heidi and Petrelli boys. He looks from the photo, to Peter, to the photo, and switches to a low English. "If the pattern holds, your sister-in-law is the next target. We need to warn her. Now."

Allowing Desiree to handle Billy, as Cass isn't really sure she'd be able to support him all on her own, she quickly follows behind to see shell shocked looking Peter and Ramon. "What? What's on the papers?" Because she can see them there. Picking up one of the random ones still on the floor - this one about Maria's mother, she frowns as she flips through it. Ganadropin? That's a drug name. What's it do again? "Don't wander too far, Mr. Jones," she warns the man in a concerned voice before turning back to the page she has in her hand. "I don't know…this doesn't seem Company…" she can't help but say quietly in the face of Ramon's rage. "Fertility!" That may seem weird bursting out saying, but it makes sense to her. "Gonadropin is a fertility drug." Pause. "Oh." Horrified look as she reads through the file she has again. "Oh God. /Why/?"

"We'll be right there," Peter murmurs softly, looking through the paperwork, until Ramon's second outburst. In Spanish. Only this time, he thinks he's starting to understand him. That's odd. Maybe the tone helps. It really makes it sound like he wants to kill this man. And glancing towards the paperwork, and seeing a file on Elena— there's a sharp inhale. The paleness turns to a narrow glare, as he too might want to hurt someone. One key is bad enough, but two…

And then the older man switches the English and he frowns. "All right. I'll warn my brother and her, but— I don't understand. What is this? Fertility drugs?" Why would Heidi even /need/ fertility drugs? What's going on.

"Don't you worry yourself with anythin' but walkin' outta here," Desiree orders the confused fellow in soothing tones, for an order. However, /she's/ worrying herself with those papers, squinting as photos make themselves known to her eyes and she finds herself recognizing faces - all while Ramon makes his thoughts known and while Cass makes the connection to fertility. She sets her jaw firm, clenches it; her steps with Jones have stopped, but now she urges them on again. "Let's go. Take the files 'n' get the hell outta here. Gives me the creeps."

Gomez Apartment, Queens, New York

Meanwhile, somewhere in New York…

Elena opens the door to her bedroom, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she takes a few steps into the hallway towards the living room, she pauses, hearing the toilet flush, and the door opening. Expecting to see ….-anyone- living at her house right now, she blinks when she sees a man step out of it, with a plunger and a toolbox, and a rag tucked in his back pocket. He turns around, blinking at him.

"Wha— who?" Elena says, taking a step back.

"Pardon me, ma'am, didn't think anyone was home," the man states, looking sheepish. "The landlord called….plumbing problems in the building, he gave me the keys." He shows them to her. "Sorry 'bout that, didn't mean to— were you sleeping all this while?"

"It's….pretty early for house calls, isn't it?" Elena says, still looking wary. As far as she knows, it's not even eight o'clock yet.

"It is, but I didn't want to be in the way." Adjusting his cap a bit, the stranger sticks his hand out. "Name's Carter, John Carter."

Elena's hand is up and is about to reach to shake the man's hand, but it freezes. The telepathic message from her father during the night she met the Maddox Children slams into her conscious thoughts, and she looks up at him, her face slowly…..turning gray. She takes another step back.

The friendly facade drops. There is a smirk, the man removing the baseball cap on his head and pushing his palm over the sweat sheened over his bald head. "Not even going to shake my hand?" he says, and to his credit, he almost sounds hurt. When she steps back, he takes a step forward. "That's too bad….not like I was looking forward to this or anything, but it's a pity, considering I've known about you for quite some time. Even before you were born, as a matter of fact."

"Get…" Elena takes a deep breath. "….get out of my house." Her hand reaches behind her, grabbing onto the doorknob. Not without a fight.

Undeterred, the baseball cap is replaced on his head. John Carter gives her a small, if not somewhat weary smile.

"No need to be hostile." He inclines his head a bit, watching her for a few moments. "I know the photographs confirmed it, but it's rather uncanny. You look just like your mother…"



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