2008-01-17: Less Than Eye to Eye

Starring:

Angela_icon.gif Noah_icon.gif Haitian_icon.gif

Summary: H.R.G. brings his concerns to the table regarding the orders on Gabriel Gray, aka Sylar. He and Angela don't quite see eye to eye.

Date It Happened: January 17th, 2008

Less Than Eye to Eye


Angela Petrelli's Office

Company Headquarters, New York

Angela's office is a reflection of the woman herself. One wall is lined entirely by boxes of files on shelves; another holds a board with a myriad of memos, maps, and important miscellany; another is decorated by heavy curtains, giving the impression that there is a window where there is none. They are, after all, underground. The furniture is antique, classical, much of it dark wood; the shades of the lamps, from ceiling to desk, are yellow. The effect is not cozy; the office is dark.

Behind the massive, ornate desk, the Company chairwoman sits, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, in the midst of scrutinizing a report. Brow-line knit, Angela's countenance is a dark one. In the corner by the many files is another figure, blending into the shadows save for his cream-coloured suit: the silent Haitian.

The walk to Angela's office is a swift one. His look and stride are enough that most give Noah the entire hallway, pressed against the wall as best they can. Some come up to him, preparing to ask him a question, but most have the common sense not to utter a word once they get into range. The one or two that actually offer their question get a simple 'Now is NOT the time' as Noah continues toward his destination.

Finally, the Company Man gets to the door in question and a couple of firm knocks are given with the back of his hand. "Ms. Petrelli… It's Bennet. Can I have a word?" It's odd that he doesn't try and go through the secretary, perhaps a sign that he doesn't wish to be given the go around or delayed any longer. Of course, the slight chill in his voice would be another strong indicator of that as well.

The glance Angela gives the door is so swift it may as well have not happened. "Of course, Noah," she grants without looking up again — and without giving away any sentiment one way or another. One thing's for sure, though: the woman is not surprised to see Bennet come knocking.

Rather than rising from her seat of power, Angela stays where she is, going over the last of the page she has her sights on. The Haitian, of his own accord, strides to the door to let his partner in. Angela is keeping her door firmly locked these days. His expression, on seeing Noah, is stern, darkened, even moreso than usual. He simply steps aside, once the way is clear.

After the door is closed, Noah rests his eyes toward Angela as he walks toward her. As he makes the trek, his blue eyes flicker over toward the Haitian. So that's where he's been. He doesn't comment to his mostly silent friend, keeping all his attention toward Angela. Clasping his hands behind his back like a 'good little soldier', he has only one firm opinion to make.

"This shouldn't have been allowed to happen."

Angela closes the file, pushing it aside, seeming quite focused on the orderliness of her desk rather than H.R.G. Calmly, but with a hint of flippancy, she states, "Define what you're talking about, Noah, I'm dealing with several situations that should never have happened." When the woman does look up, her dark eyes settle precisely on Noah's without hesitation. Aging hands fold over one another on the desk as she leans forward to regard the senior agent.

The Haitian, meanwhile, stands in the corner as an unobtrusive observer.

"I'm talking about the snake's head that has caused countless deaths and suffering. What caused Peter to go against the Company as well as resulting in Peter killing Nakamura." HRG's eyes narrow behind glass walls as he speaks the name that causes a tint of venom to come into his voice. "Sylar."

Noah takes a couple of steps forward toward the desk, his hands now resting at his sides. "If I had been allowed to kill him when we had the chance, none of this would have been able to happen."

Angela regards Noah with the stoic patience of a mother who has had to sit through many a rant from an insolent child. Though Noah is certainly not an insolent child, the expression she bears for him is the same. Calm. Unimpressed. Unsurprised. "The past is the past, it would benefit you to remember that," she chastises dismissively once Noah has had his piece — or what she suspects is just the beginning of his piece. Her reading glasses are removed as she stares him down. "What's done is done. You know as well as I do that matters involving Gabriel aren't so black and white. Leave him to me."

"Dismissing the past does nothing to protect the future," Noah replies, his tone still as stern as before, though the level remains in almost a hushed tone. The name is given a hint of emphasis, Noah refusing to give the powerful Evolved a normal name. Monsters should be known only as monsters. "/Sylar/ is becoming more powerful. Despite his change of heart, you know killers as well as I do. It's only a matter of time before he kills again and there is little telling WHO it will be. Attempts to guide him to the Company has only caused him to hate us and turn Peter to his cause. The situation can be brought under control if we act now. Let's finish this while we still can."

There is a short pause before Noah offers a single word that states volumes. The difference between boss and employee. The difference between one with all the power and one struggling to make it through with skill and luck. The one on top and the one (for now) on bottom. The one word that only a select few have EVER heard Noah say.

A subtle lift of Angela's brows occurs just as Noah begins his reply. He's not wrong. Ignoring the past, however, was not her intent. She hears him out, and by the end of his words, not without a few dangerous flares in her stony expression beforehand, the chairwoman has lifted her head higher and is regarding him intently. She regards him in complete silence, not saying a word. The Haitian certainly doesn't say a word, either. Then, with purposeful moves, Angela rises from her seat.

"No."

She splays her hands on the very edge of the heavy desk in front of her, standing boldly against him — as is her right, as the leader of the Company. Another right as the leader of the Company: choosing not to explain herself. Not a fair right, by any means, but one that she wields now. "Orders are orders and I mean them to be final." A dark brow flickers, challenging Noah to challenge her. "You will stand down."

"I am merely advising, Angela. I understand orders are to be followed, but you understand what this appears like from my perspective. It appears you've lost control of Sylar… And now Peter as well." Despite a statement that seems like he's backpedaling, Noah remains standing straight and tall, not all at flinching as Angela attempts to shut the conversation down prematurely. "You know exactly what I would be doing if I were standing up to you. Or at least Bob did."

Although this meeting is, perhaps, meant to be a discussion — advisement from one person to another — Angela is always prepared for battle. "Your perspective is skewed," she's quick to correct, simply stating that which is a fact in her eyes. "We did lose control of him. For a long time," she's willing to admit. "It's unfortunate what Claire had to go through. Now Gabriel is nearly invincible because of it, and she's lucky to be alive." Funny, how she doesn't say such a thing with horror in the slightest. "I have plans for Gabriel. They involve bringing him here, to the Company, but not yet. Now now, of all times."

"Unfortunate." The word seems to be a gross understatement and it takes inhuman amounts of self-control to keep himself in check. Thankfully, Noah knows what will happen to Claire should he not be there to shield her, so he finds the strength inside to keep his feelings from bubbling over in a hot cocktail of rage and hate. "Respectfully, containment of Sylar has failed. Repeatedly." With his main points made, Noah become the Agent he's known to be… One of few words.

"With all due respect to the recently departed," Angela begins, touching a hand to her chest beneath a string of hematite beads. "Previous methods of handling Gabriel's situation were not ideal. Kaito had the propensity to calculate all the odds, but it was still doomed to failure. Oh, how we clashed. Dear Kaito…" The woman's stern-faced expression melts away, softens, as she seems to take a moment to recall the murdered Founder. Murdered by her own son. She gives Noah a smile, faded before its time, but lingering all the same. What exists of it is almost, almost a warm smile from old friend to old friend. She strides around the desk, closer to the man in the horned-rimmed glasses, looking up at him. "I know we don't always see eye-to-eye. All I ask if that you trust me, Noah. You'll be the first I call if it all goes awry."

"If Sylar OR Peter harm anyone else because of our inaction, it's on your head." It's as close as Angela is going to get to an 'I'm with you'. Like Kaito, Noah has his own code. He's broken it a few times when it comes to his daughter, but for now, he stands by the rules. Or at least he SEEMS like he's gunna be standing by the rules.

A brief glances is given to the Haitian. If he is with Angela, it means he won't go after Sylar himself. This means that should Noah be attempting to take out Mr. Gray in the near future… He'll be doing so alone.

Angela has had so many terrible things laid upon her head over the years. The trend continues… if Noah is right. She doesn't acknowledge the statement, per se; it's the man's brand of acceptance of the situation, such as it is, that prompts her to attempt to look into his eyes and nod slowly. Simon Says Nod, Noah, and don't try anything brash.

Picking up upon Noah's glance to his silent partner, Angela also glances the Haitian's way while she moves back around her desk. "The Haitian will be staying near me for the next little while the security reasons," she explains, perhaps needlessly. If only Kaito had the Haitian's presence overseas, he might still be alive.

There is a short silence before Noah finally reacts, the Company Man gives a nod in return after matching Angela's gaze with his own. "I understand. Thank you for this talk. If you excuse me, I have work to do." Noah is not happy, but he seems to be on board.

Angela watches Noah after all is said and done, a hand the back of her chair before she sits. Her gaze is critical, always critical. "Take care, Noah." The words could be a simple goodbye or dismissal, but no, maybe not. They seem to be infused with sincerity — and meaning. They all have a lot to watch out for these days. Angela also has work to get back to — and so she does, sitting down, thus glancing away from Noah, back at the desk, to do so.

Without another word, HRG turns and makes his way out, wearing exactly the same face that he had walking up the hall. And with that, another Productive Company Chat is completed. Except not really.

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