2010-02-24: Traitor



Date: February 24, 2010


Jo gets some information from Justin about a take gone bad.


Red skinned, yet still determined to fulfill her mission, Jo marches down the near-silent halls of Building 27. She's dressed in a black skirt and black blazer along with a white blouse and high heels — no florals today, it was too over-the-top. She lingers in one of the rooms of the building. She's been looking for someone in particular — Justin Law — although not for the reasons she's been citing to others.

The room she lingers in is nearly empty. It has a table and a couple of chairs, but little else.

The nearly empty room happens to have a door leading into the hallway, where people would tend to walk by. At the moments she's lingering, like a cat ready to pounce, she'll catch sight of a clean cut white man walking down the hallway. Justin Law happens to be one of the few people who walks around the building armed. His uniform is all black, with some armour and many, many pockets. Retired airforce is what the paper work said about him.

Codename joke that his friends gave him, Justice.

Despite reports in the file saying he'd been seen with paperwork and files he should not have, his arms are empty of such things at the moment, but he has his eyes down on a small electronic pad as he walks.

Armed. Awesome. "Mark found," Jo whispers to herself as she pads out of the room towards her colleague. Like him, she's also armed. Of course, her reasons for being armed vary considerably compared to her mark. With a deep breath, she catches up and falls into step with him, managing a moderately warm (or, not quite cool) smile.

She says nothing to him as she cranes her neck to peer at what he's reading. Finally she manages one thing prior to any introduction or the like. "Something interesting, soldier?"

Who knows why he happens to be armed. The sidearm itself seems to be a customized version of a more common one, as if it's been altered for a specific purpose. The file also mentioned how he's a trained sniper, and would use such abilities for his position in Alpha Protocol. In all his hunts, Justin would take them down without issue, and usually without anyone actually getting hurt. With one exception.

There had been a death in his last bag and tag, of the person with an ability. An adverse reaction to the Delta Solution, which led to death.

The handheld device gets lowered and put away into a pocket in his uniform. "Just checking email. Nothing too interesting." He stops walking, though, and looks at her curiously. "Do I know you?"

"No, we've never met," Jo says as she extends a hand. "Agent Scott." Nothing like trying to take down a trained sniper who happens to be armed and so she takes the coy route as best she can.

Her own clothes seem strange in comparison — a stark contrast to his all-business appearance. "I was told you and I should have a discussion; just following up on your last bag and tag." Her eyebrows are raised as she smoothes her skirt. "Trying to make sure it doesn't happen again; a person wouldn't want adverse effects for future targets."

"I already filed a detailed report on that," Justin says with a visible wince. It only lasts a second, but the emotion still shows through in his eyes. It fades after a moment, though. "Some of them can't be robbed of their ability, as that situation showed. His ability was keeping him alive, without it, he died. Without more research into our targets, there's no way to avoid it, unless you don't want to take away what they can do at all."

He pauses a moment, and then turns to look at her more closely. "So what were did you want to know about it, Agent Scott?"

The wince is noted before Jo hmmms and motions towards the small room she'd been lingering in earlier. "It might be better to sit down and discuss it." She blinks as she pads towards the room. Once inside, she sits in one of the chairs after smoothing her skirt down — fighting with static is one of the reasons she avoids such feminine attire.

"Tell me about the target. What was his ability and who ordered you to take him down?" There's a pause as she bites her lower lip, studying her colleague calculatingly, "Had Delta Solution been tested on an individual like him in the past?"

The hallway isn't a comfortable place to discuss the one that died, so Justin easily follows into the other room, keeping his arms to his sides, and settling down into a chair. He doesn't slouch, but he doesn't sit up at attention, either.

"They had noted his ability was to control blood, inside the body. He used his ability to help people. Break down blood clots in other's bodies, and increasing blood production and stopping bleeding. But there was evidence he could do harm as well. The doctors speculated that he died because his own circulatory system relied on his ability— and when I shot him, it led to a fatal stroke." He seems calm while discussing it, but at the same time he's bothered…

"We'd never tested it on that kind of individual, nor did we ever have that kind of result. Considering how many of them we've used it on, the small amount of people it might kill likely won't be enough to stop it from being used."

"Ability to control blood," Jo repeats carefully. "So you suspect others are like him — can't survive without his ability?" Unlike Justin, she sits at attention with near-perfect posture. "What do you think about its continued use?" She arches her eyebrows before relaxing slightly in her chair. She's making this meeting seem as official as possible.

"When exactly did this happen? And do you have any recommendations when bagging and tagging an individual like him?" She yawns. "My understanding is we don't want this to happen again. If at all possible."

There's a quirk of an eyebrow, which seems to imply Justin thinks that the 'we' believe different than she's saying. Justin doesn't voice his concerns or doubts, and instead nods a bit. "I do think that some of them adjust to their abilities in a way that may make them dependant on them for the rest of their lives, just like someone dependant on a drug. If it's taken away, they go through a kind of withdrawal. I'm not a scientist or anything, but I've seen how they react to it. Some of the more physical abilities cause the worse reactions."

He hesitates a moment, as if trying to recall something. 'It happened last month sometime. I'm not sure the exact date. A Wednesday." The day he remembers, but not the number associated with it. "If we had a drug that diminished the ability, without negating it entirely, would be the best bet, but that would require more time and research, I'm sure."

"Time and research," she repeats and is certain these are two things this project isn't going to invest in. "Doesn't everything take more time and research?" she asks with an idle smile. "So you're implying that without said research bagging and tagging them is essentially signing their death warrant?"

She yawns again and stretches downward before sitting at attention again.

"Not often. Most of them do just fine, or we wouldn't have many beds filled in the barracks," Justin says with a shrug of his shoulders. The 'soldier' is more laid back than most, but he's no longer military, and hasn't been for a few years now. Not that it took all of it out of him. "I don't think it happens often enough that major change will occur." It seems like a token response, almost as if he's repeating what he'd been told when he questioned it.

Now he begins to stand up again. "Is there anything else, Agent Scott?"

"Well, it's good to know what happened. I was just told to get clarification." The marine's lips twitch with an unusual amount of hesitation, but it's replaced with her usual cool persona — distant gaze, cool smile, and relaxed posture. As Justin stands, Jo begins to rise as well, stretching downward once again with a heavy yawn. This time when she reaches down however, she grasps her holstered gun and in one quick fluid motion, levels it at Justin's head. Orders. It's all about orders. In that same fluid motion, she clicks the safety on her gun off, reminding herself that he's a traitor.

The motion immediately takes him by surprise, and Justin is able to put his hand on his sidearm, but doesn't manage to pull it out by the time the safety is clicked off, and the gun is levelled at his head. A tightness appears along his jaw, and it's very clear to him he won't have much time to speak at all. People don't draw their weapons for no reason.

The last words of people rarely are chosen carefully, and his are simple, "Why?"

"You're a soldier. It's your job to take orders, not question them and poke around files you have no business in," Jo answers coolly. "Traitors never prosper." She reminds herself once again that Law is indeed a traitor, and like Law, it's not her job to question orders. Breathing out slowly, she pulls the trigger.

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