Post by Alan Baldwin on Dec 10, 2012 16:12:16 GMT -5
The Director sat at his desk chewing on a sugary little bar that had the habit of pretending it was healthy simply because it tasted vaguely fruity. The Director did not need health but rather sugar; for health. Perhaps that was not the best way to phrase it.
The room was large, neat and had that comfortable yet clinical look about it that many Doctor’s offices shared. Directly opposite the door, which required higher level clearance than the average CIA agent had to even open, was his mahogany desk which had been done in a similar style to that of the President’s. In front of the desk were two comfortable chairs facing it. These chairs were lower than the one black leather chair behind the desk that the Director sat on himself. Behind that chair was an impressive collection of African tribal masks staring out across the room from three shelves their imposing expressions judging every little detail.
To the enterers left was a vaulted door to a refrigerated room where he stored his vast collection of poisons and venoms. To the enterer’s right was a stunning repainting of the Cylon War painting displayed in Admiral Adama’s quarter’s in the hit Sci-fi show Battlestar Galactica. The Director had rather enjoyed watching that show with his second born son.
He reviewed the file that sat perfectly aligned on his desk one more time. She was the correct woman for the job. He was rarely incorrect. However now was the gruelling task of telling her just what she’d signed up for.
The UNSAID HQ is an underground building below the New York Subway. There are several points of entry posing, and fully working as, telephones. One simply keyed in the correct code, held the phone up to their ear and spoke into it for verbal verification. If that was correct they would put the phone back and the piece of wall next to it would slide back revealing an elevator. One would step into the elevator and it would start to descend. Several other scans were then carried out inside the elevator.
For her first time it was a male agent who escorted her into the premises going through all the security measures instead of her. He had, of course, had to verify he was with a sanctioned guest. She was escorted through the underground complex before finally being pushed through a door after her escort done another round of checks.
The Director looked up as she was let in. He adjusted himself a little so he was sitting a little more professionally though his perfect suit and demeanour reeked of professionalism.
He eyed the file one last time before speaking “Miss Summers,” He started pleasantly “please take a seat.”
Jacqueline had been at the gym when a man in a suit had been accompanied in with her task manager. She had been working in the CIA for some time now, and had recently gotten back from a mission in Russia. As with every return to the mother land, she had spent the last week in the gym, re-examining her fitness levels, obsessively reviewing the mission in her mind- moment by moment in order to assess the areas in which she needed improvement. Jak had been in this sort of job nearly all of her life, at least the last six years of it had been spent serving her country; but she believed in the need for continual self-improvement.
So she had been interrupted during her gym time and had been told she was going to see the head of a special task force with a new assignment. That was the only message she had been given. She had been given a little under eight minutes to get herself showered and to the front of the building; there a car had been waiting to take her to her newest destination. Those eight minutes had flown by quickly, but Jak was a rough-looking woman, which short, cropped hair that did not need blow-drying and she didn’t have time, or inclination, for fashion. In army-grade boots, cotton suit pants, a white vest, white shirt and light grey cotton blazer she looked like an odd mix between collage graduate and business woman. The piercings in her ear, the slender loop in the lower left of her lip and the small sparkling stud in her nose all made her seem like a rebellious teenager, but there was something older, something much darker in her eyes that gave her the wisdom of a woman who had seen the world and been wounded by it.
She had not managed to get her guide to talk to her, and had followed him silently; nursing a wound on her left hand that she had obtained in training. It was bruised, and she had strapped it up to stop it aching, but was nothing compared to the damage her hand could still do to an opponent. Jak was a certified machine of torture and destruction.
Following through the fancy security, she watched with great interest but a recognised amount of respect; before being led through into a very big, very powerful room. It was one of those moments in life where even the president of the United States would feel intimidated. Absently she rubbed at her side; her weapons had been checked in at the desk on her arrival but she still wore the double holsters and the feel of the leather against her vest top was something of a steady for her adrenaline.
Her eyes came to the man behind the desk; handsome, aged but not old, and he seemed to radiate a sense of command. She glanced back at the door she had been let in through and stepped further into the room. “Sir.” She spoke as one who had lived a highly military life would, and with his permission took a seat. Even sitting her stature was obedient, disciplined. Though she hadn’t been called Miss Summers in a while. It was usually, Summers, or Smith. Her code name was of course a combination of both.
Post by Alan Baldwin on Dec 10, 2012 18:08:51 GMT -5
He gave her look and attire something of a reproachful look. She didn’t look like she could blend. He hoped she was as adept at covert operations as he had read in her files and reports.
“Sir.”
He nodded once at her address of him and looked back down at her file thoughtfully. How did he start… Hmmm…. He took a bite of his nutri-grain bar to give him time to think.
“Welcome to Headquarters. You may call me Director or Sir. We are a United Nations task force. We work for the benefit of humankind rather than the benefit of a singular organisation or country. You have been chosen Miss Summers because you are one of the best. We are the United Nations Supernatural Assault and Investigations Directive. We work to research, analyse and eliminate the growing threat of supernatural beings and creatures which at this very time are working across the globe to destroy us.” He paused for a moment before adding “Frankly Miss Summers I regret to inform you that if you insinuate I am, in any way shape or form, lying to you right now I can have you court-marshalled and sent to work in a Chinese Slave Labour camp. Do we have any questions?”
Jak sat and watched him, his very smart professional way, the light in his eyes as he spoke almost demurely about an earthshattering ground breaker. Her dark hazel eyes were intent on him and she, like an avid student to a teacher, listened attentively absorbing the information. The first part of what he had said was similar to everything she had heard before; they were a United Nations organisation working for a purpose believed to be protecting the greater good. It was what she had signed up for, to put herself to good use in a patriarchal world.
The shocker came when he mentioned ‘Supernatural’. It was not a word that came up in Jak’s everyday vocabulary. She didn’t question him, of course, she had more discipline in her life than that and knew better than to question those who were dishing out the instructions. But her mind started to whirl; supernatural- like superman? In tights and caps and with super strength and sassy black quiffs? Jak doubted it was going to be anything she should associate with something good. After all, the human race was rising against these beings, and soon images more like the popular x-men films began to fill her mind.
”Questions?
Jacqueline wet her lips and shook her head; remembering her tongue. “No sir.”
Of course she expected him to go on and explain her role within this.
Post by Alan Baldwin on Dec 11, 2012 15:12:42 GMT -5
“No sir.”
She had questions. She expected him to answer them for her when he continued. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. She didn’t want to ruin whatever he had prepared. Simple military training. She was at his service. He didn’t know if he liked that so much. Anyone could be a drone but could this one be as cunning as a fox while still being as deadly as a scorpion.
“You picked up on the word Supernatural I hope. No, I know you did. Even someone with your record has a tell. You’re not invulnerable and the enemy I’m going to send you out against will use that to their advantage. We are nothing to them; insignificant even. Everything you ever woke up screaming in the middle of the night from is out there right now armed with weapons beyond even the scope of modern science. It’s got our best and brightest resorting to terms like magic and God.” He paused. Had he incited fear? Did she understand the danger of this Directive?
He took a bite of that sugary goodness to find that it was gone. He held but a packet of what once was. He sighed as he crunched the wrapper up into a ball and deposited it neatly in a waste-basket among several other bars.
“We are the UNSAID. That’s assault and investigation. Like the CIA that means we have people here; the searchers; the techies; the men and woman who search through database after database for suspicious activity. We also have people like you. You are the A and I. You’re a Field Agent. You go out onto the streets; into the jungle; across the dessert; to investigate these supernatural creatures; Vampires; Angels; Demons; even Fairies; and if they’re a threat to human life you do as you’ve done in the past with any man or woman who was. Questions?”
Her brows furrowed with a splash of annoyance; she had a tell? That did not make her overly happy. Jak prided herself on being good at hiding her emotions; it was part of her ability to be a covert agent. Regardless of her piercings and her short hair, she was very good at blending in and very good at hiding herself when needs be. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and then realised what she was doing; she was wetting her lips. Jak frowned again and then stopped moving her face. It was not helpful of her to realise her tell and then continue doing it.
While his words did not spook her the fact that was readable to a stranger was more frustrating. Jak dealt with difficult things each day; she dealt with impossible situations where she was forced to think of her feet. Granted she was better with a gun in her hand and on a dangerous mission than in a board room with a suit and a director of a company in front of her.
“We are the UNSAID...You’re a Field Agent…you do as you’ve done in the past with any man or woman who was. Questions?”
This was the second time he had asked her if she had any questions. It was time to ask then; Jacqueline spoke quietly but with definition; “Will I be working alone?” She asked him, folding once leg over the other; the suit pants folding around her slender frame and making her look much stronger and thicker. A second question forming on her lips as she asked a question that she should probably have mentioned first; ”How will I recognise these…creatures?”.
Post by Alan Baldwin on Dec 16, 2012 15:07:56 GMT -5
“Will I be working alone?”
It was a fair question; not the first question he would have asked; but a fair question nonetheless. “No, you will work with a partner. He has already been briefed. You will know him as John Smith; partner; husband; mentor. He’s been doing this longer than you. He’s not an official trainer but he’s got some experience; experience you will most certainly need in the field. On most assignments your default roles will be as husband and wife. You are Summer Smith to all but us. You may choose a call sign for radio transmissions and military use if you so wish.”
“How will I recognise these…creatures?”
The Director smiled and glanced at her file again. He opened up a drawer in his desk and withdrew another nutri-grain bar. Leaving the drawer open he opened the wrapper and took another bite before reaching down into the drawer, of which she could not properly see due to her angle, and withdrew a black device any regular person could mistake for an iPhone.
He placed it in front of her before speaking. “When I came to this position some classified amount of years ago I wrote something of a handbook for agents. This is one of several devices containing said Handbook. It is even updated as more information and reports are filed within UNSAID. You click on a little white U in a black background and you’ll be asked for the code. Your code is 5-3-7-2-5. You will be directed to a page with an introduction and a search bar. Simply search in the word of a creature, a related ability or, if you wish specific reports, the name of someone, or something, and it will come up with possible pages in the mainframe which will include general pages for different species discovered by the UNSAID and possibly even images of said creatures. Beware; your code allows you to access only information that an agent such as yourself needs to know. Some info may be redacted or some pages will simply be classified.” The Director looked at her file again before closing the drawer and adding “It is also a fully functioning iPhone 5 with unlimited calls, texts and internet usage though if you suspect the device to fall into the wrong hands you will have to destroy it. The easiest way being to smash it but if you shy away from such acts of physical aggression you can push the Home button five times in a row which will unleash a small amount of nanobots that will destroy everything but the shell of the phone."
"Otherwise you may defer to your partner's prior experience." He added taking another bite from the tooth-rotting, con-of-a-fruit-bar Nutri-Grain bar.
(when using the Agent’s Handbook PM what you are searching and I’ll PM you back what it will say)
She was not the sort of girl who was used to working with a partner, even with her work in her CIA she was often sent out on her own. This was not because she was a difficult girl, she was not cruel or inconsiderate, but Jak just didn’t trust people easily and she liked to take her own orders not have to discuss things with a partner first. His reply did not bother her, and Jak just nodded again. Though some of it made her pause and consider the man she might be working with. ‘Partner, Husband, Mentor’. She was being thrown in at the deep end here, she would give them that. Husband? Husband? Did she look like the type of girl who enjoyed spending time doing lovey dovey shit with a husband? Still, she was glad to be keeping her old agent name; Summer Smith was something she was used to using.
”Yes, sir” She nodded, a completely malleable agent. Her call sign had always been Foxtrot 1, she intended to keep it that way.
Then he spoke in more detail about the things ahead. Her eyes went down to the small black device and she knew better than to assume it to be a simple phone. Nothing in this world were just simple things, that was the great fun of being a secret agent. Things were un-expected and interesting; there was never a dull day.
“When I came to this position some classified amount of years ago I wrote something of a handbook for agents.”
It sounded fun, it sounded very secret and very furtive and Jak liked that sort of thing. Her fingers reached up and she ran the tip of her finger down the length of her nose somewhat thoughtful as she listened to him. Finally, she began to relax a little bit. Jak crossed one long, lithe leg, over the other and leant back in the plush leather chair. “Understood” She spoke again, in candy tones when he finished explaining the device, her code number and all the extra pleasures. Her mind, fifthly on times, wanted to ask if it acted as a vibrator too and cleaned the dishes? But she didn’t, of course. That would not only be crude but she was sure it would not make a good impression.
"Otherwise you may defer to your partner's prior experience."
She considered this her cue to leave, she considered this to be everything and did not want to push her luck by asking more questions than her worth. Though, it was clear from the way she laced her fingers together on her lap that she was anxious to get started, to put the theory into action.
