7841/Antiterrorism

Antiterrorism
Date of Scene:	15 September 2021
Location:	East Side, Murray Hill, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Questions answered and a briefing held, Michael equips June with what she needs to carry out her first assignment
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, June Connor

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    It isn't long after June agrees to work with him that Michael comes calling.

    He lives on the tenth floor of a modest condominium tower smack in middle of the affluent (but not too affluent) neighborhood of Murray Hill. Spacious condo, three bedrooms, view of the city and all. Very stark in the way of modern condos converted from old buildings. White walls and wood floors. Metal and leather. But there is no art on the walls, merely photographs of locations. Natural, perhaps. But they look like recon photos, not aesthetic works.

    Michael waits for her on the other side of a heavy steel security door, hung on floating hinges. Waiting to greet her when she shows.

June Connor has posed:
    June's dressed more modestly than she has before. Well, mostly. Her work clothes seem to be a longsleeved Offspring shirt that hugs what little shape she has, the wide collar hanging over her left shoulder. She's wearing blue jeans this time, they look new, and they aren't even shredded! Perish the thought!

    She's late. Again, but she shows after about 10 minutes of waiting, wrapping on the heavy metal door with the back of her knuckles as she looks around at the decor.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Shes' late. Of course she's late. Michael has already begun to plan around such lateness, because of course he has -- and so when the heavy door swings open, revealing a bedroom converted into an office, he is not displeased but smiling at her appearance on the other side.

    "Ah, good," he says. "Hello, Miss Connor. Come in, please." Heavy armored door might /normally/ scream 'serial killer's murder chamber', but inside there is a large-format television/monitor, comfortable furniture, bookcases and such instead of implements of bodily destruction. Or so one must assume; there's not /that/ much room in a New York condo to convert into a hidden murder space. "Please," he says as he gestures inside, "Come take a seat." There's a desk on one side, a glorious old slab of polished oak, with a pair of chairs opposite the old padded leather throne of a chair that sits behind it. It's this chair that Michael will move to take assuming she enters, nodding to her as he gets settled.

June Connor has posed:
    June does have one extra accessory today. A fanny pack that hangs from her left hip, green and clearly well used. It doesn't look empty, but hardly fully stuffed either. Perhaps it's her version of a purse.

    "So this is the part where I'm never heard from again, huh?" she asks, clearly not sincerely worried. She looks at the rather well decorated interior, as if analyzing every piece of furniture. Rooms tell stories of the people they belong to, she's learned that, and she doesn't seem to hide the fact that she's trying to learn his. She does casually sit down opposite him, placing an elbow on the desk in a rather slouched position. Slouched, but there is a degree of readiness that a trained fighter might note. She looks unable to respond to an attack, but her foot placement says she could vault over that desk with a single maneuver.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Well if you are it's because you've been really stupid," Michael says with a chuckle, "And if you were really stupid we wouldn't be sitting in here." He isn't remotely worried either, apparently. Maybe it's because he can throw her like a paper doll, or he just readily likes her company. Sitting on the other side of the desk he notes her stance, makes mental computation. Ready for anything. He likes that.

    "So," he says now, folding his hands upon the desk. "I guess the first thing would be to ask if you have any questions. Anything you want to know, I will be transparent on. The unvarnished truth." Which, you know, can be dangerous under the best of situations. Here is A Spaceman(tm). Who knows what else he'll reveal?

June Connor has posed:
    "I'm afraid to ask anymore," she admits. June arches a pierced brow. " I guess do I get laser guns or some wacky shit like that?" she asks. "And if so, you're gonna train me not to vaporize myself I hope." As cool as futuristic weapons are, June has learned enough about weaponry to respect being trained to use whatever tools she's given.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "In time you will be taught to use directed enegy weapons, sure." His brows lift. "Depends on how long you stick around. No lasers, though. Too hard to aim. I have a small armory of weapons from home you can be taught to use. And of course, to put you at a better advantage in combat, especially against the Hand, you will be instructed in the combat disciplines of my people." He pauses. "You have any trouble from them of late?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Not in the last few," June shrugs. "I mean, they'll probably show up here somewhere down the line, but my head isn't the biggest they got on their list," she shrugs. "I'm just a pissant that's a traitor. So what is it exactly you need me to go infiltrate? Please tell me it's on Earth."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "So long as they aren't giving you trouble," he replies with a nod. "We will make certain that we are ready for them when they do rear their heads." He pauses, looking at her squarely. "Earthbound work is what I assumed, but you could easily be trained to fight in zero gravity and on a wide variety of worlds if you desired. And to survive on them. May I ask, why do you not want to go off planet?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Why?" June repeats, as if there shouldn't need to be a question. "Cuz it's scary as hell, that's why!" she exclaims. "No air in space, weird ass aliens-no offense-and all kinds of crazy science stuff is needed just to survive. I dropped out in the seventh grade. I can't do that shit. So I mean, pick one, any of those. I'm sure I could come up with more if you need them."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Knowledge is all one needs to get through such situations," he replies. "But this is a purely voluntary situation - so. Earth it is, then, but do let me know if you change your mind in future." He smiles, now. "Do you know how to handle explosives?"

June Connor has posed:
    June shrugs, seeming to accept the idea of staying on Earth as the standard and moving on. Her excitement meter definitely slides down back to something more managable. "Yeah, I mean, some of them. Grenades, programmable stuff. Never worked with C4 but I know it in theory," she confesses.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Feeling her anxiety lessen, Michael nods. "We'll educate you in the finer points of sabotage," he replies. "I don't really see you setting off the big fireworks, though. Believe it or not, most sabotage should be subtle - so you don't get found out. Big on that whole 'not being found out' thing, you know."

June Connor has posed:
    June gives a frown, "I'm a fuckin' ninja," she says, "I get subtle." Even if perhaps her attire doesn't usually reflect it. "The longer it takes people to know what's wrong, the better, usually. Half the time you want the blame pinned elsewhere anyway. Let someone else take the ass fucking for it." A rather cold, mercenary perspective, but probably not surprising at this point.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I get you get subtle," Michael points out. "I want you to know that /I/ get subtle. We were just talking about ray guns, don't want you to think that I'm gonna try and use you as a front-liner." That said, he folds his hands on the table. "So let's talk about your first assignment."

June Connor has posed:
    "Okay," June shrugs, "Let's talk about it. She shifts from her reclining position, and leands forward with her elbows on her knees. "What's the main objective?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "You're going..."

    Where? Exotic locales? Tahiti? Berne?

    "...to Hoboken."

    Oh.

    Michael crosses his arms now, settling into his chair a bit more. "With the destruction of the Shi'ar fleet around the moon, items belonging to my people have started to show up in black markets in Asia and the Middle East - likely due to pieces of vessels falling into Earth orbit and crashing to the surface. I've made sure that a goodly portion of potential wreckage has been carved up so it will burn up on re-entry, but nothing's ever easy. You're going to be dispatched to monitor a meeting between an arms dealer named Nathaniel Samson and certain individuals who may well be trafficking in weapons from offworld."

June Connor has posed:
    "New Jersey?" June's lip curls. "Who the fuck does an arms deal in New Jersey?" She shrugs. "Okay, so am I supposed to sabotage the deal? Or what? Just sit there and watch?" She sighs. "I hate Jersey."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "People who expect people not to think about doing arms deals in New Jersey," he points out, chuckling. "This sort of thing is often about hiding in plain site, right? So you're going to go down and monitor the meeting; scout it out, tell me what equipment you'll need. I've got the details on the room they'll be in and all. Set up, record it, get me the deta. We'll plan what to do from there - but don't let them know that you're doing it, all right?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Depends on what you want me to see, and what they have. If they are just meeting, I don't need anything to sneak in there most likely. But a mic if you want me to record it, camera that can handle low light. If they already got weird shit do alien scans for people or weird crap like that, I'd need something to hide from that I guess. Is that a thing?" She doesn't even know if that's real technology.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Directional microphone and infrared/night-vis scope, got it." He nods, taking out a notepad from his desk and starts scribbling. "They shouldn't have anything like that. If they do, that's why you want to be across the street or someting, right?"

June Connor has posed:
    June shrugs. "I mean, I could be," she says. "Depends on the angle. I I gotta get closer it's whatever. I can usually get out without being seen. I may not be able to fight like some caped crusader, but I'm pretty good at not bein' spotted. I mean look at me, I'm not exactly the biggest target to spot in the first place."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "That's why I'm sending you." His brows arch. "But if you think you've been detected, get out. It's not worth your getting into harm's way. This is not the first time you're going to be doing this, so take your time on it."

June Connor has posed:
    "Okay," June shrugs. "You got a folder, or gonna text it to me? Or what? Let's do." She seems settled, as if there's no other information she needs, unless there's more to come from him. "Easy money right there."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I'll get you the necessary data." He reaches into his pocket and produces a modern cel phone, which he slides across to her. "You get any data through this. Don't use it for anything else but business. Basically a more expensive burner."