2/10 - Bahir, Natalie
2/10/2009
Logfile from Emma.
=XF= Administration - Chemekata Military Base
The glass and metal lobby of the building carries the 'Titan Enterprises' charade through in brushed aluminum letters set high on the wall behind the main desk. The name disappears, however, as one moves deeper into the building. The security is high, and the presence of armed guards is unmistakable.
The subfloors are heavily shielded from possibly electromagnetic attack, and it is there that communications and intelligence are centered. The hum of happy server farms is impossible to escape. The upper levels are given over to offices, meeting spaces, and classrooms. The computers are cutting edge, their screens are large, and furnishings are terrifically ergonomic.
The smallish room holds little more than a table and a few chairs. They're comfortable chairs at least, and the room is painted a cool gray and paneled in wood to lessen the interrogation room feel. Even if it is just a glorified one. Emma rocks her foot gently, the toes of her pointed shoe brushing the table leg as she looks at the paperwork spread out before her on the table. Some of it she brought with her, some of it she didn't. She looks up at Bahir through a heavy fringe of dark lashes and walls her own emotions up behind thick shields. "And?" she prompts calmly.
"And what?" His shields built high and thick for courtesy's sake, Bahir nevertheless leaks an intermittent pulse of aggravation and irritation. Emma is not the specific target of his frustration, but a low resentment lies beneath general good will aimed toward her.
Emma turns her hand up in a supplicating gesture. "You are pacing around here like a caged cat. I can feel the tension bleeding off of you. I've been told of your cousin, yet you have not brought her up directly. You've given me the information you were supposed to, and little else. /Talk/ to me, Bahir. I will not attempt to find out another way."
Bahir turns his eyes up and circles the room in a contemptuous scan for microphones and cameras, and then drops his gaze to Emma. He is pointedly silent. << If they hadn't fucking broken the Circle apart, we could've already found her by now, >> he spits into Emma's mind, words edged in venom. << I just know it. >> (Probably not.) << They have me running laps and filling out paperwork. /Paperwork/. >>
<< We weren't even aware of the kidnappings, >> Emma points out with an exasperated sigh, though the emotion is so mixed with her own regrets and anger that it is difficult to pick the emotions apart. She leans forward and pushes the papers toward him. "I am not convinced that is true."
Bahir picks up the papers with a clearly sullen air. << You wouldn't make me stay here and run laps, though, >> he argues, already painting all time in the Inner Circle a rosy hue, as if everything was Perfect and Emma was always Wonderful. "No?" he asks aloud.
It's better than the hue she'd been painted in until now, but even Bahir's nostalgia isn't worth the disruption to the Circle. Emma pushes the folder across to him to gather the papers in and rises. << No, >> she agrees, winding her way around the chairs and moving for the door. << I wouldn't. >> She opens the door and looks back at him. << But maybe they believe your training has been insufficient. >> As if.
Bahir gives Emma a sharp look, momentarily amused. << Has it been? >> As they move into the hallway, he slaps the folder against his hand. Aggravation pushes his voice low and sharp: "It's just that I've been fucking doing this kind of thing for -- /years/. And they have me /filling out paperwork/, instead of trying to find her."
"The world could drown in paperwork," Emma remarks idly, her thoughts skipping ahead to whatever it is that has her preoccupied at the moment. "I am under the impression that they believe our methods... soft."
Bahir gives Emma a sidelong glance. A fading twitch curls his lip, with marked pause where Adel might say something about softness. He releases a breath. "Breaking into a high-security federal prison is not /soft/. Altering the course of elections and impeaching presidents is not /soft/. Our methods were /effective/, and they have me doing laps and filling out forms."
The sound of a folder dropping follows the stilled footsteps, and there's the flap of scattered papers outside the door.
Emma returns his look with surprised amusement at the pause, a faint pang of longing for what might have been said scattered by the sounds of the folder's dropping. She steps out of the doorway and into the hall.
Bahir gives Emma a tight smile, not really felt, while the raw ache of loss answers the faint pang. He opens his mouth to say something, and sets out after Emma. The breath to speak is held, words slow to resolve.
A snowy flutter of paper surrounds Natalie as she stands and stares at the door, her gaze dark and hard. She knows to expect the second person to pass through that door, but the first comes as a surprise, and she jerks visibly backward with the shock of it. One foot catches a sheet of paper and she skids a bit, but her gaze never leaves Emma Frost. She doesn't look at the /other/.
Emma lifts a brow and offers a sort of vague half-smile at Natalie, then slides her eyes sideways. << Isn't this your research partner? A little skittish, isn't she? >>
<< Yes, >> Bahir answers, a little frozen. His tight smile remains fixed in place. << ...fuck. >> His brain unsticks just enough to beg a not-entirely-flippant, << Got any good excuses? >> from Emma.
<< You mean besides the obvious? >> is her more-flippant-than he-probably-wants reply. Emma turns and holds out her hand. "Thank you, Dr. Al-Razi for your suggestions. I'll be sure to submit them to our superiors."
And in that span of silence, Natalie has time to gather her wits, at least a little. Her gaze moves very slowly from Emma to Bahir, and when it settles there it is cold and heavy with hurt. Strangely, /horror/ doesn't seem to be very present. The bit about lying is apparently far more important than the bit about prisons and presidents, in this moment. There is a stretch of quiet from her end as well. It's a heavy, ominous silence, and in it, Natalie does not move.
Bahir takes Emma's hand, but squeezes it, holding tight as if he expects that to cause her to magically pop out with a more /helpful/ reply. Halp, halp. "You're welcome," he says, barely looking at Natalie. His eyelashes shiver with the sidelong flick of his eyes. << How closely are we holding old secrets? >>
Natalie snorts briefly, an intensely unpleasant laugh, and shakes her head. "Wow," she says dully. "You're unbelievable." And she turns swiftly on her heel, leaving the spread of papers behind as she makes swiftly for the stairwell.
Emma deflates a little and glances down while she marshals her thoughts, her attention momentarily distracted by Natalie's escape. She twitches a look back to Bahir, some devilment sparking deep in her eyes. << It does seem a little redundant to keep them now, doesn't it? >> Another glance at Natalie's retreat, and then, with reluctant softness, she adds << Use your judgment, Bahir. Don't hurt us, but save yourself what trouble you can. >> She returns the squeeze and lets his hand go as she steps back and pastes a smile into place. "Give Percy my affections." She crinkles her nose and turns.
"Take care of yourself, Emma," Bahir says when she turns. His gaze follows her with emotions mingled, just a bare seep leaking past his shields. He adds nothing further telepathically, locked down due to an emotional twinge unrelated to Natalie's cranky stalk away. After a moment, he stirs, and then turns to follow her. He looks over his shoulder at Emma once, but not twice.
Natalie learns that eavesdroppers never hear anything good.