2013-02-10 Alignment

Natasha Romanov has decided this street corner might be a one to finally stop. Her pace, restless and relentless, has been carrying her through the morning well into the afternoon. Finally, a wave of realization--coming up from her body, has alerted her that perhaps it's time to take a moment's respite. She stops, rather suddenly, and examines the surroundings. A nice cafe, only a few doors down, catches her eye, and she slips through the door. The counter is nearby, and she orders a small coffee and a croissant. Sitting down just outside, under a little umbrella, she sips and thinks.
At the very least, the cafe was in an area of the city that wasn't heavily patrolled by either police or the various gangs that patrolled their own turfs (at least for right now). Which meant it was rather safe to have a discussion. The first thing that somewhat like Widow might notice is the various physically fit groups of two that come into the cafe itself, sitting around her and talking in polite, yet artificial tones. There's three groups, all sitting around Widow for the moment, one or two of them seen sneaking glances that might be her way.
Naturally, Natasha's paranoid inclinations are triggered. But, she resists her reflex to get defensive, instead casting two, brief casual glances meant to look natural, while in actually she's observing as much as she can from the figures around her. She assumes no coincidences, and gets her small, hidden camera to photograph their faces. She's been in this habit lately, and has made photography of Gotham her primary objective for the day in general.There's a few minutes more, before there's another person that walks through the door, waving to the cafe owner with a smile and indicating his party was already in side. When he looked away, his expression was more dour, and serious, as he made his way outside, sitting down at Natasha's table without preamble.
"Don't bother with the camera. There's other people here and they all work for me." Martin says. "Not all of us can walk around and have frank discussions alone out here. Suppose this is as good a place as any.
A subtle twitch, and eyebrow flickers up, Natasha smirks as her gaze pans to face Martin. "Like ghosts, this city is wraught with unsettled baggage. A pleasure seeing you again, agent. I do suppose you're due to repremand me for prologing my stay beyond the initial day, without so much as a notice. I do apologize," she says with a flat but sincere, slightly dismissive tone.Shuffling her body ever-so-slightly more to face Martin, looking a bit more relaxed and casual, she continues to nibble at the sandwich. She looks upon him, more curious as to the reason for this engagement.
Martin Kavanagh leans forward a bit, looking like he's in no mood for the slight edge of dismissal in her tone. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for metaphor at the moment, agent. To be honest, I wouldn't care how long you'd stay here if you were doing it on station. Or at the very least /mentioned/ things to me." He unbuttons his coat, and after sliding it open reflexivly to show he didn't have a holster rig on, slowly pulled out a smartphone, flicking through it. "But let's start with that little meet up with Gordon. I don't suppose the Boss gave you some personnel to play with? Crates of guns? A goddamn feasibility study to put on my desk regarding funneling assualt weapons to the GCPD, which we all know is a /paragon/ of upstanding, incorruptable police officers?"
Widow's eyes light up--at first in surprise of Martin's agitation, but then with a more considered understanding of his words. "Mm. I spoke too rashly, it's true," she starts, pausing a moment. "The word I used--weapons--was probably not what I'd intended. I was actually more considering security and jailing technology....but you're correct."
Martin Kavanagh sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. "That would be... worse, in a way, though, thank you for understanding. If it was guns, I could just as easily pull some strings and get a crate of some Colt knockoffs of the older Stark designs, or, better yet, wrote them a check. But technology... Look. Fury decides who he wants to give our tech to, and if he decides that it's better for Gotham to have an extraterrestrial containment facility rather than transfer them off to a helicarrier, I can't complain. But what you're talking about means creating a closer working relationship with the GCPD. Do you really think that's a good idea?
A subtle notion of worry bubbles into Natasha's heart, realizing that taking up the initial bid to meet Jim Gordon, or moving into Martin's territory without coming clean about her motives, was a bad play. She decides to address his question first, however."My stated frettings to the commissioner were genuine. And you are clearly not misguided, or towing any lines. The process by which SHIELD should or should not be truly involved is something that is beyond my realm of expertise--stopping wars and political policies is not my skill set. I am a pinpoint executor: both literally and figuratively--information acquisition and assassinship. You've undoubtably read my profile in our database." She realizes she's digressing, and pauses a moment. Continuing: "All I know is--this region has been neglected, in so far as I can astertain, and I think that's potentially to our great peril. While you may have a clear assessment of Gotham's problems--they are not typical, boiler plate problems that a city may have. We are sitting on a timebomb--the potential nexus of many nefarious forces. And, to be honest, I fear that our small operation is not nearly enough."
Natasha decides she better discuss her own situation, looking hesistant and slightly nervous. "I must be frank with you--I am here, now, of my own volition. It was a ridiculous error for me to not discuss this with you. I'm doing an investigation, and I'm doing it without Fury's knowledge. Turn me in if you'd like, but I'd like to plea for you to not."
Martin Kavanagh looks at Natasha as she explains her situation, folding his hands in front of him, as she explains what she sees. At the very least, his expression changes from an annoyed one to a generally tired one, the slight irritation seeming to disappear in the face of honest statements.
"I've read your profile, and that's one of the reasons I'm concerned. Compartmentalization and all that. My main worry is that you've got orders from someone higher up the chain that no one had thought to inform /me/ of. And next thing I know there's a dead body of someone too important to be missed that I haven't had a chance to clean up, and this operation becomes that much harder to run."
He pauses for a moment, before leaning back. "As for your analysis though... Gotham has been neglected. That would be a statement that explains the issue here. For every organization out there. This city is run down and infested with organized crime, rougher street gangs, enough petty crime to require the National Guard and that's not even going into those psychopaths from that revolving door of Arkham. But I should be honest with you, too. None of that is my problem."
He motions around. "Every one of these people has a cover story here today. Even me, if it came down to it. That's because we can't act openly here, because I don't have the resources, the manpower to go aganist the nefarious forces you see at work here. My job is to monitor the OC families in this area and track any connections to international terrorist groups, as well as try and interdict when I can if there's something excessivly overt. That's one of the reasons I don't want to get too close to the GCPD. There's going to be a few times where I may need to leave a lot of dead mobsters down at the docks, and the less the municipals have to trace it to us, the better."
An eyebrow does go up on her last statement. "It's a free country, or so people keep telling me. I'm not going to turn you in unless it's againist regulations. But you may find it prudent to tell me exactly what part of that investigation had you meeting with Ms. Van Dorn?"
A quick flash of surprise to adoration falls over Natasha, "Ah, you're good at this, I see. Using all those eyes." She flips up her Widow's bite, and its small, LCD computer display makes a pop sound, and a quick, unnerving crackle of static frizzles for a good three seconds. It sounds a little broken. She begins punching in a few codes, and starts speaking, eventually looking up, "SHIELD case file 23RX55-3B, access code is IX9. You may read it on your own time, but it summarizes why I'm here. I'm not supposed to give you that, but at least you'll have an understanding of yet another problem brimming under our noses."
Natasha shuffles nervously, feeling as though she's admitted to something embarassing--it's almost like someone who just confessed to shitting their own pants. "One of the most classified, well organized drug-rings we've ever run into has been pilfering supplies and chemicals all over Asia. There seems to be an unknown, meta or supernatural component. What's most disturbing is the level of aptitude for covering their tracks."
Martin Kavanagh shakes his head. "Ordinarily, I would play up on that. A little confirmation bias, a little mystery, and you can make anyone feel you have eyes everywhere. But, really, you're two people I have some interest in. If I knew you were going there, I'd have asked you to plant some seeds. Ms. Van Dorn has... potential, as I'm sure you've noticed."
Martin listens to the case file number, flickng a few buttons on his smartphone, before nodding. "Compartmentalized. I'll make a note, and make some calls so that no one decides to look around.
"And, all right. I can understand well-organized drug rings. I've seen a few of them here. I assume you don't mean HYDRA, AIM, COBRA or the other evil acronyms... and I'd also assume that, despite that aptitude, you've tracked them here.
"In so far as we can astertain, the M.O. and style is different from those organizations. Nick felt this was something different, something bigger. There's no doubt he's holding something back--as he frequently does. But I don't want to complain about that--most agents who've dealt with him for some time have come to realize he's got his reasons for managing information so tightly. There's a particularly well-connected Japanese CEO, names Jin'ichi Tanaka. Somehow he's involved in this--his headquarters, in so far as I could tell, was staging ground for something--either supernatural, or super-freaky. I was attacked there. Incapacitated."
Natasha stops, and takes her last bite of sandwich, "If you're able to help track this fellow, I'd like to find him. That's my primary objective," she admits, finally. "I know Nick's style--he's going to run some analysis, and he's going to send another agent here on this case in a week or two. I think that's too long to wait."
Martin Kavanagh nods slowly at that. "Another one of those CEOs playing with the wrong people and holding a public image. To be honest, I wish we could black bag people like that as soon as we suspect they're up to something, but I'm sure that there's more intelligence to be gained waiting for the right moment... less problems, too." Another pause. "Though I don't like hearing one of our better agents was incapcitated... doesn't leave us much hope with that avenue. But, yes. I can help track him, but you have to understand, my resources her are limited, esspecially with ET at the gates. I can go through our daily info dumps to see if I have anything... but you might need to talk to someone more... connected than I am." He takes a moment, quickly, to scan the rooftops of the buildings next to them.
Natasha asserts, "That's just it--his business records suggest he spends most of his time here in Gotham, but I can not find him. At all. It should be easier than this." With a bit of an apologetic tone, she says, "I know I've been messing up lately. To be frank, I'm not used to failure. And I'm not willing to let it haunt me," she confesses. "In so far as Gotham is concerned, checking in with you is something I can do. I've got about one more week before Nick might start to wonder where I've run off to, if he hasn't already. How can I make things right with Gordon? Is there anything I can do to truly help you out here? I feel like you're out in the wilderness, rampaged by bears and wolves. It shouldn't be like this."
Martin Kavanagh gives another nod, at that. "Which means he's keeping a low profile, somewhere off the grid, which can be quite a few places in this city. And you've made a few mistakes, yes, but nothing serious. Lord knows I don't have your authority. You can understand, though; in environments like this, I can't afford to have my authority undermined; when that happens, they start taking what little funds and resources I have and task them to Metropolis or New York or Peoria. And that's also why I can't afford to pull back on Gordon with any of those promises. We need a united front, not the impression that we're about to succumb to internal politics."
And then he laughs just a bit. "WIlderness? There's a police force here that just gave me patrol car numbers when I identified myself. A DA that wants to create an excellent working relationship. Oh, the environment is shit and we're chronically understaffed, but I've been in worse places... Belarus, now that was bad."
Considering his words, Natasha responds, "I will defer to your authority here. My witness of this city is new and superficial, to date, and I believe I am merely awe-struck with the potential disasters brewing. But consider me your ally here, Martin. Your file on record is impressive, and you've got a pragmatism that many of our agents lack." Natasha leans in, and speaks in a quieter tone, "I've one other objective while here: I want to meet The Bat. If I don't, I want to commission you with the responsibility of filing a report on his activities, and his threat level."
Martin Kavanagh looks... uncertain at the last point. "I'm flattered that you read my file. I'd wish it was a bit more full with my time here, but this is a tough city, as you've mentioned. You'll note as welll that I don't have any information on the Batman in my records. If you want to talk about embarassing..."
Martin checks his watch, and moves to stand. "He's male, that's as much as I know. I'd chalk him up to a myth some over-aggressive police officers are using to hide activities, except there's enough evidence to assume he's a real person. Beyond that though, I have no knowledge on name, resources, backing... the man's a ghost, his organization is so deep underground we'd need a drilling device, and /he/ is the one in charge of this city. I will do my best, agent. But this man, at least here, is operating above our level."
He motions to the door. "But that's my time here. I've got to get back to station, and start on this job for Gordon. I'll see what I can get you in terms of information. But keep me in the loop from now on. Are we clear?"
Category:Logs
Category:RPLogs