Owner	Pose
Michael Erickson	He's been occasionally huffy, mostly forthcoming - except where his armor is concerned - and, on occasion, musical. But finally, he's settled into a sort of strange lull. He's quiet. Meditative, even. Not much to do in a cell but withdraw after a while, and he has become as the material from which the scene is crafted: silent and inert, a sculpture of flesh and sinew laid out upon the cell's bed as if upon a bier. Waiting for the next round of questioning and display.     Plotting what to do next.
Jessica Drew	The agent walking down the stairs into the holding area carries a keycard so tightly in one hand that her knuckles whiten, and she risks cutting her palm. Agent Jessica Drew's frown matches her balled fist. Outside the special reinforced door to Michael Erickson's cell, she stops and takes several deliberate calming breaths. She wants Erickson to believe that all is right with the world. And it is because she has permission to put him under surveillance. With a nod and wave to the surveillance camera, she swipes the card and a long annoying buzzing sound fills the corridor. The door swings open. "Mr. Erickson? Would you be so kind as to accompany me? You are now officially released." To her credit, Jessica manages to look pleased about the situation.
Michael Erickson	His brows arch first, still staring at the ceiling. One by one, muscles return to life, re-engage, and now he's sitting up on elbows, squinting at the woman as she opens the cell door. "All right," is all he says, getting to his feet and rolling his shoulders. He's been trained to live for days inside his armor; it's rare that he's actually /had/ to. It's only because he hasn't had need to use any of the anti-security systems built in that its power reservoir hasn't been drained. "Well, thank you."     She's burning up about it. Of course she is. Good instincts on this woman he's met. He won't be so foolish as to underestimate her. A good dollop of paranoia is needed, now - but at the same time, she's the one to speak with in the end. If it is his people coming. She'll be the point of contact for this human organization.
Jessica Drew	Behind her pleasant facade, Jessica is not above using her good looks to appear less than she is, she is suspicious of the man and less than sanguine about the situation. When he would not tell them who gave him the armor, her seniors suggested that she turn him loose and see where the bird flew. Jessica likes challenges. Putting Erickson under surveillance would be another in a long list of them. "Yes! Your story about Red Sentinel checked out. We matched your suits appearance to various sightings over the years and assume that you were the only owner of the suit. Your company is in good standing." A pleasant smile wings his way as she holds the door for him. "So, you are free to go."
Michael Erickson	Ah, but of course this is not the end of things; he's been doing this for a very long time, after all. He knows better. Rubbing the stiffness out of his arms, Michael steps out into the corridor with Jessica, her beauty noted, of course - he isn't blind - but her mind already having been put on display enough that looks are no shield where he's concerned. "So," he says instead, "How does this work? I take it I have someone I have to check in with? that sort of thing? No way you're just letting me go cold."
Jessica Drew	"Check in? You are free to resume your activities as CEO of your security company, of course." Frowning perplexedly, "Do you want to check in? You are more than welcome to do that, Mr Erickson. We'll always be glad to have news from you," she adds, ingenuously, biting her bottom lip in thought. "We do follow people with more than average strength, capable of..." She makes a vague circular gesture, "What was it that you did exactly in the Tunnel, Mr. Erickson?"
Michael Erickson	"Repair work." He's certainly not going to let it be /that/ easy. "You said you had it on tape. Anyway, yeah, I figured if you give me a channel to reach out to you folks, I'll be happy to keep working with you if you want. Like I said, I'm here to /help/. I want to break these jerks, not give you people the runaround where the bad guys are concerned." He shrugs. "Just give me your card, Agent, if you have one. I'll ring you soon as I hear something - and I /will/ be looking. Chances are Tannhauser's gonna want to know what happened to their people and the Serbians are gonna be ringing me soon as they can. Probably with guns drawn, considering the stories gonna come to them about me." His brows arch. "You letting my men go? I'm going to need to get them all sufficient resources that they can keep their head down until this Serbian situation is resolved. They just wanted to help put these guys away; I'm not interested in putting them at further risk. Some of them have families."
Jessica Drew	With a faint laugh of disbelief, "Repair work? Oh, Mr. Erickson, here I thought you wanted to help." She shakes her head fondly. Then, more seriously adds as she leads him through a series of doors that buzz open before them and shut once they are through. "We are releasing your men as well. And, are aware of the risk of reprisals that Tannhauser might feel they need to take. Your company premises, your apartment and your men will all be under surveillance for your protection. We want to bring them down as much as you do, of course. You are now on our radar! Count on us."
Michael Erickson	There it is. "Good." He pauses a moment, then says to her, "Something I picked up once. From a criminal group, can't remember his name - truly, it's been a while. Hydrogen plasma projector, prototype. Basically a hand-wielded torch, uses electrical system to superheat the hydrogen and project it via an electromagnetic coil. Might well have been an old Tannhauser design, come to that, but I don't know for sure. Used it to essentially melt the breaking concrete together and then vitrified the congealed stone. Vaporized any water in the way before it could leak. No idea what the Vision was using, but I expect something similar. Probably a laser." He shrugs. "It's an industrial tool. I don't usually carry guns, and when I do they're usually nonfatal. Not here to stack corpses."     He's quiet a moment - and then, frowning, offers her his hand. "I know you don't trust me, Agent. I understand, and it doesn't hurt my feelings. My hope is that I'll be able to show you that I'm on the side of the angels, same as you."
Jessica Drew	Surprise makes her hesitate less than a second, then Jessica gives him her hand. "I'll be taking you back to your apartment if you feel it is safe to do so, Mr. Erickson. So, it's not goodbye yet. We can provide you a safe house if you don't feel it would be wise for you to return home." Needless to say, SHIELD has gone over the place thoroughly and found nothing of note. Jessica is sure that something was overlooked. Pleasantly, she adds, "Trust is earned. Is it not? We're taking the elevators down to where a car is."
Michael Erickson	"If I'm killed after this, it's my fault. I started this, after all." He takes her hand, giving it a solid shake. The holographic clothing, the false skin of light, can't hide the chill of the metal beneath. He gives her a grip that's as cold as ice - but lots of people have cold hands, right? "Honestly," Michael says further, looking squarely into her eyes. "I don't shrink from people like that."     Indeed, nothing there to find - just the occasional knicknacks, a particularly gaudy avant-garde clock from 1983. Photos of woodland scenes on the walls. "Anyway. Lead on."
Jessica Drew	The chilly hand was not expected but Jess covers her reaction. Was the man really a vampire and dead already? She looks at him out of the side her eyes as the elevator doors close on them and descends to take them down to the parking lot and his return home.