Uneventful Until Now

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Where: The Company - Interview Room

When: August 9th, 2012

What: Finnegan finds himself in the middle of an impromptu polygraph before getting his new assignment.

There's something going on.

Agents and support staff have been extremely on task today and security ever since the incident that Finnegan and Jeremie were sent out on occurred, has been ten fold. There's been even rumors of the entire staff being screen by an empath and a telepath, The Company's version of a polygraph. Not that Finnegan's been hit up for such a thing. But it's not far after he's actually in the building that suits appear on either side of him and Muni not long after. "Need you to come with us Jaimeson" First name. Not good.

Finn's brows rise and he glances at the men flanking him. His hands automatically come out of his jean pockets to hold up, empty, in a cross between a "who, me?" gesture and that of a surrender.

"Did I do something, boss?" he asks, his forehead furrowing with some worry as his eyes flit from one man to the next. "Is it about Caldecott? I'm sorry I lost my temper… he just pissed me off, talking about Amelia when she almost…"

Swallow, then silence.

"Has nothing to do with Caldecott. Don't worry about that" Muni assures him. "Answer truthfully and everything will be fine" It's the only warning that Finn gets as they stop at one of the interview rooms. The two suits shift to flank the door while it's being opened, there likely to catch any runners. Muni gestures with a sweep of his hand for Finn to ease in where a older man, and a hawk nosed reed of a woman are waiting beside the table and chairs. "Good luck"

The agent nods to Muni, his gray eyes darting from the man to the woman and giving them each a nod of greeting before moving to take the hot seat, as it were. Aside from the nod of greeting, Finnegan doesn't speak, but waits to be spoken to — the Southern upbringing and military-school education evident in his posture and polite but nervous silence.

"How's your morning been so far Agent Fannigen" Fannigen. The salt and pepper haired man, dark rows, clean shaven. Almost fatherly at one point. But Finnegan knows that looks in the company can be deceiving. "Would you like some water?" He gestures to a handful of water bottles on the table even as the red haired woman with her black rimmed glasses calmly takes up a seat.

These are not regulars here. And Finnegan can feel it. Not that they are strangers to the Vegas chapter. No. he can feel someone in his mind. Sitting there almost, like a lead brick. There's the faintest smile on the woman's face. "I'm Carter Linden. This is Mariah Scott"

"Uneventful. Until now," says Finnegan with a smile. He turns to look at the water bottles, but shakes his head. "No, thank you, sir," he says politely. There's a slight crease in his forehead as he feels that presence in his mind, and one hand comes up to scratch at the healing cut above his eyebrow where the Doc had headbutted him.

Finn leans back in his chair. "Pleased to meet you both." He's not, particularly, but he's well mannered. "How can I help you today?"

"uneventful is good. Good" He folds his arms across his chest, one hand reaching up to rest against his jaw, thumb to chin, forefinger stroking across his cheek as if thinking hard. "uneventful is good. We strive for uneventful. It makes your life easier and ours too. Now, speaking of eventful though. A few days ago you retrieved a briefcase for us, from an Agent who decided to eschew the proper exit protocols when opting to pursue a career and life outside of Company employ. Do you recall the contents of it once it was in your possession?"

Mariah remains silent.

The younger man's brow knits in trying to remember everything in the case. "Whatever it said in my report, sir; there was some paperwork and a few flash drives. I don't remember the exact number. But I opened it there to make sure it was what we wanted and not a decoy before re-joining the pursuit of Stater, since my partner was on him and I felt the retrieval of the information was the most critical at that moment, sir," Finn says, eyes mostly on Linden, but glancing over at the woman to include her in his report.

There's a glance to Mariah who gives the slightest of nods. The truth, it seems. Hands come down to grip the back of the chair that he's in front of. "Mister Stater passed away at oh three hundred this morning, from the gunshot wounds inflicted by the Las Vegas Police Department in their confusion regarding the discharge of your partners weapon and yours. Do you … remember at all, if he had any contact with any individuals, if he was meeting someone there?"

Finn's frown deepens at the fact the rogue agent was killed; it was a possibility that he would be, of course, but Finn had tried to avoid it. "I imagine he was waiting for someone; when I first spotted him, he was sitting with the briefcase — probably a live drop, was my guess, but he got spooked and bolted, sir. He ran into a couple of people who seemed to be just bystanders. Crowded street, tourists, et cetera. When he dropped the briefcase, no one went to grab it in all the ruckus, sir, so I figured no one on the street was in cahoots with him," Finn explains.

His hands come off his knees to the table; he worries at a silver chain on one wrist. "Did I miss something? It was a bit chaotic out there, and I was trying to get the witnesses inside and the cops from getting too suspicious, sir. I checked his suit pockets for anything that might not've been in the briefcase but didn't find anything else, sir."

There's another nod from Mariah and Linden carries on. "It seems perhaps you didn't miss something. You can't miss something that wasn't there" He licks his lip, leaning forward. "As you know, we wanted the information contained within the briefcase returned to us. Private and proprietary information. It seems that perhaps, the drop had already been made" he licks his lips again. "There's seven drives missing. None of the ones we recovered from the briefcase, had the specific drive that we were looking for"

His eyes widening, Finn sits back. "Shit. Seven?" A second later he grimaces for swearing in front of the lady and murmurs a quick "Pardon."

"I imagine you've already sent someone to search his residence and car and all that, sir? I can check the street cameras and see if I can pick up anything on surveillance, but it'll be hard to see anything in that crowd, sir."

"You imagine correctly" Mariah offers up, the presence filtering out till it's just Finn and Finn alone in his mind. "We will provide you with some names, of individuals that he came in contact with that we know of and suspect. There's a convention in town for another day, nanotech. We believe he was going to trade proprietary information with someone in town attending. Someone high up the… government food chain" And not in the Company's pocket.

When the presence exits his mind, Finn relaxes just ever so subtly. He raises one brow at Mariah, as if to ask, 'like what you see?' but otherwise gives a nod of understanding. "I'll do my best, ma'am. The problem is if they've already gotten it downloaded or printed out or what have you. I imagine you'd have someone else sort that nonsense out?" He's not a techy, after all.

You say "They've been accessed. We know that already." Mariah just cocks her head to the side then reaches down to a briefcase, pulling out a file and sliding it over to Finnegan. "You'll find the addresses and names of the individuals who have accessed the drives. We were fortunate enough to have a … technopath invested in ensuring that if they ever did manage to get out, to leave a way to track who has it. It will take another Technopath to read whatever is on the drives. Or an extremely smart and savvy individual"

"It bears saying, Agent Finnegan" Linden gets his name right now. "That it is in your best interest to retrieve the drives, as swiftly as you can, and with as little attention as possible. You and another agent will be working to achieve the desired result. They'll be handling some of the others that pop up, these ones are your responsibility" He gestures to the file,."

The file is reached for and opened; Finnegan skims the pages, flipping through them and then closing the folder. He then looks up and nods.

"I'll do my best, sir. Ma'am." He nods to each in turn, before something Linden said registers.

"My best interest?" he repeats.

"Yours" Linden answers, before straightening up, hands sliding to behind his back.

"In all, our interests" Mariah corrects.


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