2009-10-28: Get Monk'd



Date: October 28, 2009


The Government Family Tree gets another branch.

"Get Monk'd"

The Office of Wynn

Contact has been made. Quite possibly through one of Ivory's many lady assistants. But he awaits in his office, seated behind his desk and signing off on oodles of different facets of paperwork. He's not in any hurry to get out of here, as his next appointment isn't for a while after the visitor he's currently waiting on. There's always the slight glance off at the clock, just to make sure that time is moving, before he looks back to his paperwork to figure out just what in the hell he's supposed to be signing. He honestly signs too many damn things.

Novak has finally been contacted, and arrives at Senator Wynn's office. Once he is let in, he closes the door behind him, and nods to the man behind the desk. "Good evening," he offers. He starts to reach up to adjust glasses that aren't there anymore but checks the motion half-way and allows his hand to drop back to his side. Once he stops in front of Ivory's desk, he says, "Thank you for calling me. I was beginning to wonder at how many hoops you were being forced to jump through before we could have another discussion," he jokes. Sort of. He notices that Ivory seems to be a bit pressed-upon by his work load from the various physical cues given off, but appears to be fine otherwise. No comment on that, though. Paperwork is part of the position.

"Seven. Seven hoops." Ivory responds, though it may be hard to tell whether or not he's joking. Still, in that same moment, he's folding closed one folder and moving to another part of his desk to pull out another one. "You're in. But you're on a special assignment." Already falling right into the mode of business, Ivory is just trying to make sure this runs smoothly. The new folder he pulls out is slid across the desk towards Novak, while his other hand motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a look at that. See if it suits your fancy." Ivory smiles.

Novak accepts the folder as he steps forward, shuddering slightly at the rasp of the folder on the desk's surface. Some sounds just affect him that way. Unless Ivory asks, though, he doesn't offer an explanation. One he starts to look through it, he hmmms. "Finding people with abilities… Yes, I believe I can do that. The research should not take long at all. I already know the adrenal gland is a component, so I will start by extrapolating from my previous research, since Pinehearst was using an adrenaline drug—Oh, my apologies." He looks up from the folder and gives an embarassed grin. "I didn't mean to start in on the techno-babble front. Hmm… Well, I suppose this is a good start. My only question is what are we going to do with all of them when we find them? I had thought having a suppressant ready before we have a hundred of them tied up and sitting around would be ideal, but if you prefer to find as many as possible first, and then worry about eliminating their mutations later on…" He shrugs.

"When do I start?"

"I just need you to worry about what's in that folder. The rest is being taken care of by other parties." Ivory makes it very clear, without saying it, that certain things are on a need to know basis. And that's certainly going to be himself being the only one that needs to know much of anything. He can't really figure out whether or not he should be ordering this man around, just yet. He needs to see some results first. "You can start now. Directions to the facility are on the last page. Also, there's a number you can call if the lab is missing anything you'll need to get this done." Ivory smiles. Again. His plans are starting to come together. This is good.

Novak nods to Ivory, checking the last page for the directions. "Alright. Well, I suppose I'll thank you for accepting my offer to help. And since other parties are presumably taking care of my other requests, I suppose I'll have test subjects soon enough. I'll need access to their blood, and so forth, to be able to develop the identifier." He then turns his head as though looking at something, before turning his attention back on Ivory. "Were there any other matters to cover? I had something of my own to address once I'm sure I understand my role fully."

Almost immediately, Ivory is raising an eyebrow. Mostly because he's not quite sure of what's about to be thrown in his direction. This is a bad thing. Who knows what kind of things are wanting to be discussed. If only because, well, he was thinking that things were going to be taken care of when he decided to give this guy the gig. "Wait. If you're about to bring up money, don't worry. You will definitely be compensated… very well." Ivory is always figuring that people are going to bring up money. He would.

Novak shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. I tapped some resources of mine prior to approaching you initially. And those resources are ready to help with our project." He very specifically says 'our' to indicate he has shared control over all of this that is going on, but he doesn't place any special emphasis on the word. It could be easily missed. "One of those resources is here today. His name is—"

But before he can finish, a man that was previously not in the room is suddenly perceptible. He appears to be a Chinese man, in the robes of a Buddhist monk, with nearly-shaved head and all. He does not move his lips, but his voice is heard and understood by both Novak and Ivory. "It is my preference to simply be called 'monk'," comes the man's voice from all around the room. Novak pauses, with one hand out, gesturing at the previously-empty space, and then just smirks and lowers his hand away from the Monk. "This monk is a friend of mine. He has kept me safe, and helped me to rebuild my life after one of 'those people' nearly ended it, a year ago. He is willing to help us with finding and controlling mutants, so that they do not harm others or themselves."

Ivory is not the type to show that he's freaked out. But he's freaked the hell out. Leaning back into his chair, he just kind of raises his hands to steeple those fingers and make sure that he's coming across as the man still in control of this situation. He looks from one to the other and then back to the Novak again. "We're paying you. Not him." Ivory makes it very clear. "We're also not responsible for anything he does or anything that happens to him. We're hiring you." Ivory wants to make sure he keeps plausible deniability.

Before Novak can respond, the Monk holds up a hand to attempt to placate Ivory, and says soothingly, still without moving his mouth, "That is acceptable. I have taken a vow of poverty, and have no need for your currency if I had not. As for my safety, I would not even consider placing the burden of my life upon your shoulders, Ivory Wynn. There is already much weight you carry… Much of it on your spirit. To add further to that which you toil with would be unwise of me, and disrespectful to what you are attempting to achieve." He lowers his hand, and folds both in front of him, at his waist.

Novak turns from looking at the Monk, to looking at the senator. "Well, I suppose that's that then. If you ever have, err, 'detainees' that may have information they are unwilling to share, or are otherwise being uncooperative, the Monk can change their minds." Novak taps significantly on the side of his own head. Perhaps he means 'change their minds' literally. "I simply felt that it was best to make you aware of all that I can do for our efforts, rather than springing surprises on you at a later date."

"And that's why I like you. You put all your cards on the table, my man." Ivory flashes a big ol' smile, because that's what politicians do and he's not even going to be worried about anything that might be coming down the path from the future. He's all about the way he's taking things and letting them roll. "Let's just get this party started, okay?" Ivory is raring to have people in his corner to help him bust down this mutated freaks.

Novak nods and smiles. The Monk bows. Then he says, actually moving his lips, in Mandarin Chinese, "«He does not trust us.»" Novak asides quietly, in the same language, "«I know. But he is the best chance we have at the moment.»" The Monk says, "«Do not let them test your formula on you.»" Novak shakes his head. "«Of course not. Nor on you.»" The Monk smirks. "«They would have a hard time finding me to try. I am not even in this country.»" Then he fades out of existence and appears to be gone. At least to Ivory. Novak looks thoughtful, and then turns his attention on the Senator.

"My Monk friend brought up an interesting point just now. You are already aware that mutants exist in other countries. From what I have seen, it would take a lot more funding than we presently have to locate and apprehend them all. A LOT more. I am aware that this matter is probably not within my security clearance, but I will suggest this now: If you plan to go to take anyone from other countries, you should ask the president to contact those leaders he feels can keep all this a secret, and have them put together their own hunting teams. If the United States of America attempts to take the entire burden of controlling the mutant population onto itself, this project will fail. Believe me, this has been tried before." Now there is an interesting comment. Tried before?

"You need cooperation between nations. Otherwise, people will start playing at espionage and power games… Can you imagine people trying to build their own armies of mutants secretly? Using their abilities to spy on other nations? Or worse?" He shrugs. "You don't have to keep me informed on that front, obviously. But it's something to think about." Then he smiles and says, "If that's everything, I'll go pack my things and head for the address."

"You knowledge will be taken into consideration. But, for the moment, we're going to take care of home first. Other bridges may be crossed when we come to them." Ivory does give that dismissive wave that he tends to give people when he's finished bossing them around, since that happens to be the bulk of what he does as the head of this Alpha Protocol project… not that anyone even knows that it exists. But still. "Keep me posted on your progress. There may be a Nobel Prize in this for you."

Novak nods. "Thank you for your time, Senator," he offers. He easily recognizes the signs of wanting to be left alone. He then turns, file folder in hand, and heads for the door. "Have a nice night." Then he opens the door, steps out, and closes it behind him.

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