2007-07-07: Who Does Lachlan Have to Kill?


Lachlan_icon.gif Nathan_icon.gif Viola_icon.gif


Lachlan pays Nathan a violent visit and is verily vindicated except when Viola gets involved.

Date It Happened: July 7th, 2007

Who Does Lachlan Have to Kill?

Nathan Petrelli's Campaign HQ, Times Square

The street-level office space has not quite reached its stride yet. It would peak around noon, but right now, it's almost quiet, though a fair share of employees flit here and there between desks and phones. Nathan has abandoned his own private office in favour of talking with two young political aide-types, one seated at a desk and the other hovering nearby. It's pretty much the normal scenario for a work day - save for the presence of law enforcement.

Such a high profile possible attack on a senator-to-be has left the Captain scrambling. Such a case requires high profile people taking care of it. Unfortunately for Viola Holcombe. As the Lieutenant, she's standing by and making sure that statements are made as well as the Petrelli candidate is under proper surveillance. Though she's hanging back and letting the actual detectives do most of the work, all the waiting around and doing nothing is killing her. So, being proactive, she steps up so that she's right behind Nathan and coughs politely. "Mr. Petrelli?"

Just outside the campaign headquarters is a Scotsman on a mission. He's left behind the puppies today and has gone in search. Sure he woke up in a much more forgiving mood this morning, but there's still that teenytiny little bug that's nibbling away at his brain — a bug named Nathan Petrelli. It took a little finagling, but he finally managed to track down a likely place for the wannabe Senator's location. Unfortunately for him, he's unaware that there was already an attempt on the politician's life. Lachlan stands just outside the building, staring at it with a frown as though pondering whether or not he really wants to go in.

"Just call them, make sure they're sent directly to my home address," Nathan is saying, and he starts to move away, likely back to his office, when he hears that polite cough just behind him, and he turns, easily recognising the woman. "Lieutenant?" he says with a quick glance around then back to her, dropping the bundle of papers he was looking at to his side.

"Mr. Petrelli." Viola gives a nod at him. "We've interviewed just about everyone here. So far, we haven't come up with anything glaring, but we'll keep on the look out." Though dressed in her plain clothes, her badge is dangling from the tell tale chain around her neck. "I just wanted to let you know that most of us will be heading back to the department now. However, there'll be a pair of officers who'll keep a close eye on you to make sure something like this doesn't happen again."

Thank God for our boys … er, girls … er. Thank God for the people in blue. Yeah. The Scotsman finally comes to a decision and pushes in through the door after taking a deep breath. He looks very calm, very civil, nothing more than the Average Joe entering the campaign office to do Average Joe Things In A Campaign Office. Hell, he's even got a Nathan Petrelli flyer in his right hand (because that sorta got him the information about where the campaign office was). It doesn't take him long to spot the man in question, and Lachlan immediately makes his way toward him. "Nathan Petrelli?" he asks once he's within speaking range. It's polite and cool.

Well at least that means his immediate staff aren't all Judases, as far as a quick investigation is concerned. Nathan isn't sure whether to be pleased about this, though. "Alright. Thank you, I'll let you know if I notice anything…" The word is 'suspicious', but Nathan trails off when— when Lachlan, of all people, comes striding on up to him, and his focus shifts from Viola to the taller man. He even puts on an amicable smile. "That would be me. What can I do for you?"

Nathan should be pleased about that, Viola's seen enough crazy things over her tenure that ruling out the nearest and dearest is always a big mistake in a case. Though Lachlan /is/ suspicious as far as some others would be concerned, the Lieutenant doesn't see him as such. Just another campaign person, or perhaps a friend. However, this isn't someone that Viola has interviewed or seen around the office all morning, so she's wary. After someone tried to cut the brakes of his car, this could be someone here to finish the job. So, she hangs just a step backward to let them talk if that's what they're going to do. But, she's already studying Lachlan and evaluating if he's carrying a weapon.

Good, so Lachlan's sure he's got the right one. He sometimes forgets faces, and it'd sure be awkward to punch out the wrong guy, right? Yeah. So without warning, he suddenly whips out with a left hook, aiming right for the politician's face. He puts his entire effort into the strike. It's probably going to be the only one he gets in before the cops jump him, so he's gotta make it count.

OW. It's not the first time Nathan's ever been punched - hell, nor the last time, and that's probably just including Lachlan. Still, it catches him by surprise. The loose sheets of paper he was holding all go flying all over everywhere, and Nathan staggers to the side, and tries to catch himself on something— and kind of ends up going ass up over a wheely chair in one smooth motion. CRASH. "…ow."

Around them, advisors and errand runners alike stand up immediately to peer over at the sudden flurry of action, someone right at the back even getting up onto their desk. Hey, it gets boring around these parts.
Lachlan would be quite correct. As soon as that first punch is flung, Viola is lunging forward in an attempt to grab a hold of the punching Scotsman. She doesn't even spare a moment to try and say anything to the attacker. What she /does/, do, though is identify herself as she attempts to wrestle the man to the ground. "Police! Just stay down!"

Surprisingly enough, Lachlan doesn't resist. He did what he came here to do, even if the knuckles on his left hand are now throbbing. That was damn satisfying. He'll gladly go to jail for that. Down he goes under Viola's command and wrestling, nice and easy. He only has one thing left to add as he's dropped to the floor on his belly: "An' ye stay the bloody fuck away from m'girl!" That'll show 'im.

Gladly taking the help to stand up again from a nearby employee, Nathan leans heavily against a desk, staring in muted disbelief as Lachlan is wrestled to the ground by Viola. Then a 'not one damn word all I AM FIRING ALL OF YOU' glare is cast around the immediate room, as Nathan brings a hand up to check if he's bleeding or just bruising. After making sure he still, you know, has his jaw and it's in one piece, he says, "Message received. Now you can stay the hell away from me." No, he's not going to lift a finger to prevent an arrest, even if he does like Cass and all.

As satisfying as that was for Lachlan, he's going to have some time to think it all over as Viola pulls out her handcuffs from her back pocket and clicks them into place over his wrists. He's not putting up any sort of fight, so it's not that hard. "Alright, down to booking with you." She picks herself up and then starts to tug Lachlan to a standing position so that she can walk him out. "Mr. Petrelli, you have a good day."

Oh goody! Not like Lachlan's record isn't long enough already, now he gets to add more assault to it. He still does not resist as he's handcuffed and tugged onto his feet, and he exits the building quietly in the custody of Lieutenant Holcombe.

It's really damn nice to have minions. Some forward thinking person has already dashed to the little staff room kitchen around the back and come back with a tea towel covering a handful and a bit of ice. Nathan takes this from her gratefully, and nods to Viola. "Thanks again, Lieutenant," he says, before applying the ice rather reluctantly to his jaw.

As Viola directs Lachlan out of there, Nathan glances around at said minions watching him rather warily. "Well. I did say it'd be a rough campaign," he tells them, before moving out to tend to his wounds in the privacy of his office.

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