2007-10-15: Turning of the Tide

Starring:

Bob_icon.gif Angela_icon.gif

Summary: Bob Bishop is graced by the presence of an unexpected visitor who paves the way for change at the Company.

Date It Happened: October 15th, 2007

Turning of the Tide


Kirby Plaza Building

Manhattan

This massive office didn't always belong to its current resident, one Mr. Robert Bishop. While he stands in front of the desk - rather than behind it - looking out the window and its spectacular, lofty view of the city, he seems almost out of place, at odds with his surroundings, a figure in browns surrounded by cold greys. The space is vast, resembling an art gallery in a museum rather than an office, aside from the large, dark wood desk and the fireplace off to his far right. Decorations have been stripped bare, save for a few works of art wrapped in paper, a cello on a stand, and boxes marked HARTSDALE. This used to be Linderman's habitat, and now it's a refuge. The smell of smoke lingers in the air.

Checking his gold watch, Bob bends once, picks a briefcase from the floor at his feet, and begins to walk briskly for the exit. Things to do, answers to get.

As Bob moves toward the door, the handle turns, the hinges creak and a tall, angular woman steps into the frame, blocking the exit. It's been a long time since Angela Petrelli last saw Bob Bishop, and even longer since the two spoke. She assesses him coolly from where she stands, dressed in a plain white business jacket and matching skirt, her outfit accented by several pieces of silver jewelry on her wrists and fingers, along with a black pearl necklace looped loosely around her slender throat. Although she smiles, there is nothing warm about the expression on her face or the look in her eyes. Like a cat's, cool and emotionless, her stare is fixated hungrily on the man in front of her. No, Mr. Bishop, you aren't going anywhere yet.

"Bob."

In awkward contrast to the figure that suddenly blocks his path, strong and tall and elegant in the form of one very unexpected Angela Petrelli, Bob shuffles and struggles to come to a halt before colliding with the woman. "A-Angela." The man stands a hair taller, sizing up his fellow Founder behind the lenses of his glasses. There's a hint of confusion there, a bit of suspicion that sneaks its way in, at odds with the professional-brand smile he greets her with. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. What can I do you for? I have a meeting to get to…"

"No," Angela says, her voice flat, "as a matter of fact, you don't." She steps inside, one hand grasping the handle as she pulls the door shut behind her and punctuates her statement with a sharp click. "I'm sure you're already aware that the Primatech Corporation has changed hands. Jacob's recent passing has left Kaito and I… unsettled, about the current state of affairs here at the Company." Confident that she has Bob's attention, she brushes past him and begins making her way toward the late Daniel Linderman's desk. "We both feel that it's in our best interest, and yours, for one of us to step in and take over where our dearly departed friend left off."

Oh, she has his attention. Bob turns on his heel, watching Angela's trek to the desk. The way his eyes intend to bug out of their sockets is masked, barely, by an increasing glower. "With all due respect," and that is, indeed, considerable respect - but it doesn't stop Mr. Bishop from boldly approaching the woman. "Jacob's … rather unusual passing has left everyone in upper management in a bit of a pickle, but let me get this straight," he lifts one hand up in gesture, the other weighed down by his briefcase. "where exactly are you going with this train of thought?"

Angela removes her gloves and places them, one atop of the other, upon the desk before turning her head to look back at Bob over her shoulder. "Quite simply," she says, positively sphynx-ish, "I am upper management, at least for the time being. Not only did you allow several Level Five detainees to escape, but now Gabriel is running loose as well. There's no reason this should have happened, none at all." She takes a seat on the edge of the desk, her nylon-clad legs crossed at the ankle with her hands resting demurely in her lap. "That poor boy. So lost and without direction. Jacob ought to be ashamed of himself."

"If you're accusing my work here as being anything less than by the book, I have to take offence." Bob starts to get incensed, wrinkles etched all along his forehead, knitting his brows - evidenced only by more wrinkles, his angry brows hidden behind the black frames of his glasses. His anger only grows so far, however, before it's put coolly in check. While they're speaking ill of the dead… "We have reason to suspect Jacob was traitorous to the Company."

Angela raises both her dark eyebrows at Bob, saying nothing at first. It takes her several long moments of silence for her brain to process this new piece of information, and when it does a frown begins to curl at the corners of her mouth. "I might argue that hardly matters," she starts, "seeing as how he can't do much to hurt this organization from the inside of an ice box, but I am curious as to how you reached this conclusion. What evidence do your people have?"

"I'm surprised you don't know already." If Angela is taking pride in being upper management. However, Bob is man larger than petty pride, and moves on quickly. He sets his briefcase down on the floor. "The manner in which he was found in death suggests he was in the process of letting Sylar escape. Combine that with the ease with which Sylar and Kellie descended upon Level 5… other small details… and you have the makings of a conspiracy. Right in our midst." Bob spreads his hands. "As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty."

Bob's aim is true. His barb lands its mark, pricking at Angela's pride. There's a slight stiffening of her shoulders, but otherwise she lets it slide. At least for the time being. "I can think of very few people who might benefit from his release," she observes, "and so am not entirely convinced. Still…" She trails off, pursing her lips in thought. "I don't suppose you've had any contact with Maury's son in the past few months? If you want to be sure, we'll need someone with a unique… talent, to conduct interviews with any Company employees who were close to Jacob or might have had access to Gabriel while he was contained at the facility."

"Mm, no, but he's still one of the guardians of the young Walker girl. I can't imagine he'd take kindly to his talents being used in such a way, but… with the Haitian," Bob's mouth twitches in a briefly wily smile. "That's not much of a problem." He glances, once more, at his watch, perhaps thinking about that meeting he … doesn't have to get to?

Angela doesn't need to be a mind-reader to know that Bishop is getting antsy — he's laid bare like an open book. "Go," she says, dismissing him with a flippant wave of her hand, "it would be rude to stand up whoever you have waiting. Don't think, however, that you can keep me out of the loop. I want a full report on this desk by Friday morning at the very latest."

So that's how it is. The shift in power and organization is now crystal clear. Bob is silent and still before reclaiming his briefcase. "…Of course." Although he opens his mouth to say more, to bring up another point, it's clamped shut and he simply works his jowls for a moment and nods to Angela. Without another word, he walks out of the office which wasn't his to begin with.

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