Inside the elevator on the way up to Armitage Investigations, Inc., an argument is taking place.  "If we have to listen to you go on about your guilt trip again, I swear I'm taking the next flight back to Washington and this investigation be damned," Intelligence Agent Andrea Canfield whispers fiercely, green eyes flashing.  "I know you feel guilty, MacGowan, but just get over it!  We're doing the best we can with this investigation, and that's all we can do."  Her black hair, usually perfectly coifed, is looking bedraggled after walking through the rain to the high-rise, and though she is wearing an expensive, tailored suit, the angry red splotches on her face give Canfield's "ice-maiden" image the lie.

Hideo sighs to himself, resisting the impulse to do anything that might draw Andrea's attention his way. All the way from Washington on the plane, all the way here in the car, and now all the way up in the elevator. I think the scuttlebutt I picked up from that mechanic at the Presidio about those 'unresolved issues' between these two was a bit understated.

Come on, Diane thought irritably, trying to keep her thoughts off of her usually expressive face. I mean, it isn't like you're the only one who ever had a relationship fail. Give the rest of us a break, okay?  Eyeing MacGowan surreptitiously, she continues, Hmmm... I can certainly see what she saw in him. I wonder if I can swing a spot on *his* half of the team. I always did like the rugged, outdoors look... and he looks good enough to eat in those khakis and that denim shirt.... She suppresses a giggle, I can't believe I actually just thought that! Three years ago, I'd have died of embarrassment if I just looked at a man without a shirt on.

The object of Canfield's wrath rolls his eyes to the ceiling, then flicks an imaginary piece of lint from his denim shirt before drawling, "If you would just listen to what I was saying, Madame Psychiatrist, instead of jumping to conclusions, you would realize this isn't a guilt trip.  I really believe her life is in danger."

"Where do you get off calling me--"

Across from the quarrelling intelligence agents, Iron Guard agent Kobayashi and Assault Agents Diane Simms and Rick Hanson exchange uneasy glances.  "So let me get this right," Hanson says, clearing his throat.  "We're meeting the Avenger here?"

"No, from what I understood," Canfield interrupts, still glaring at MacGowan, "He was here yesterday and left for that Boy Scout thing this morning."

"Then who is it that we are to meet with?" Hideo asked curiously. "Surely not just these... private detectives?"

"Yep," MacGowan says amiably.  "You got it.  We're under orders to work with these private detectives."

"Your doing, I'm sure," Canfield sniffs, straightening her black hair with her fingers, using the polished doors as a mirror.

"Don't be such a snot.  If Sweet Pea -- er, the Golden Avenger -- wants us to work with pigs, we'll work with pigs."  He turns and gives Canfield an appraising look as the elevator doors open onto the AI Inc offices.  "It's not like it hasn't happened before."

Canfield's jaw drops at the insult, and Hanson is the first out the door.  "Jesus," he mutters to Hideo. "It was getting hot in there, wasn't it?"

The slender Japanese man nods, embarrassed. "I think, perhaps, that they should not have been assigned to work together considering the problems they seem to have. I hope that they can refrain from embarrassing us in front of these civilians - this will be awkward enough as it is."

'You're right there," Diane whispers, slipping out the door as quickly as possible to avoid being trapped by another exchange between the two agents. "Do either of you know why we're meeting with these people? Since when do we need civilians to help out with investigations anyway?"
Hanson shrugs, and smiles at the pretty Persian girl behind the front counter.  Turning back to Diane, he says, "Since Avenger Johnson told us to. Just relax about it, Diane.  You'll admit that things have been a touch odd around HQ, and we need to figure out what the hell is going on.  And besides, a week or so out of Washington is a treat, even if it is raining."

"You got me there," she agrees. "One more tidbit about Clinton and that intern and I'd have screamed. I still can't believe that his lawyers actually considered suggesting she be tested to see if she was a paranormal and had controlled his mind."

Hideo smiles, leaning closer to the slight redhead. "I had heard from a friend in the Medical Section that they were checking to see if she had the power to generate pheromones and make herself irresistible to men."

Diane glares at him in return, "She wishes, Campbell."

Behind them, MacGowan whispers something to Andrea that causes her to pale and shoot him an angry look. However, when the two of them step up to the others, she seems to have dropped her argument.

"Hello, ma'am," he says to Miriam.  "We're here to speak with Mr. Armitage.  Our boss was in yesterday?"

"Oh, yeah, right," she says, looking up from the computer screen.  "You can wait in the conference room -- he's talking to an investigator, and will be with you shortly."  When the crowd doesn't disappear, Miriam, as her nameplate reads, stands and leads them down the plush hallway to a spacious briefing room overlooking downtown San Francisco.  "Make yourselves comfortable," she says.  "The coffee room is across the hall, and there are vending machines in there.  Restrooms are next door. If I can help you with anything, just shout."   With that -- and something muttered under her breath - the receptionist leaves.

Andrea looks stunned as she appraises the paintings in the room.  "These are real," she comments, running her finger along the frame of what appears to be a Rembrandt.  "How the hell does a private investigator afford these?"

"Outrageous fees?" Diane offers before she can stop herself.

"Actually, I think Mira told me it had something to do with the fact Armitage is richer than even Andrea's family," MacGowan offers.  Refusing to rise to the bait, the other intelligence agent fixes her gaze out on the city.

Hideo starts to speak, then changes his mind. No, it is not my place to suggest that they refrain from this display.

Diane glances around the conference room, trying to find something to pretend to pay attention to, in order to ignore the pair's argument. Hmmm... those little statuettes look interesting, she mused, moving to get a closer look. I wonder what they're for... "Oh my," she says aloud, blushing, as the nature of the statuettes becomes blatantly obvious upon closer examination.

"What's that?" Hanson asks, returning to the room with five coffees in hand, placing them on the table.  The older man laughs as he sees the focus of Diane's discomfort.  "Wow," he exclaims.  "Now that is one seriously well-hung --"

Diane's blush grows brighter and she flees to the other side of the room as gracefully as she can manage.

"Ahem," Andrea interjects, shooting Diane a rare look of sympathy. "I'm sure you don't need to go there, Hanson."

MacGowan sits down at the table and runs fingers through unruly brown hair.  "Thanks, Hanson," he says, sipping the coffee. Hanson softly closes the conference room door, and MacGowan continues, "You know, we should probably decide what exactly we're going to tell these people."

Hideo nods in thanks for the coffee, then says, "Why do we not allow them, as it were, to 'go first?' In that manner, we can ascertain what it is that they know, and from that determine what it is that they  should be told. It would, I believe, also allow us to avoid the error of telling them too much would it not?"

First sensible thing I've heard today, Diane grumbles to herself, unwilling to approach the table and get her coffee until the last of her blush is gone, and it had to come from the Campbell. That's probably a bad sign.

"Good idea, Hideo," MacGowan agrees.  "I'm not particularly looking forward to relaying I'm responsible for losing one of their investigators, myself."

"The real question here," Andrea pipes up, "Is just how many of the people here are hiding from us?"

"I'm afraid I do not understand," Hideo asks, puzzled. "Why would these people be hiding from us? We know about Ms. Stafford thanks to Agent MacGowan here," he nods to the taller man seated at the table, "and the others were located through the same source...."

As Hideo continues, Diane looks up suddenly. Oh jeez! If I wanted to find out what we know, I'd do exactly this - stick us in a bugged room and listen to us spill our guts. "Excuse me," she asks suddenly, cutting off Hideo, "sorry to interrupt you, Campbell, but has anyone considered the fact that none of us swept the room for listening devices before we started talking here?"

"From what I understand," MacGowan drawls, "We'd be found out sooner or later…by more or less conventional means.  But if it makes you feel better…"

"But," she pauses, taken aback at MacGowan's casual attitude, "we're talking about classified information here - some of it way up into the 'Eyes Only' category. Shouldn't we take some sort of precautions?"

MacGowan sighs, and turn to look Diane straight on.  "Have you done your research, Agent Simms?  One David Armitage owns this firm -- has his name on the door and all.  That would be Captain Armitage over a year ago -- he resigned his commission to take over for his old man when he died.  You may have seen Captain Armitage in society photos -- he's best buddies with the Secretary of Navy and his wife.  Even served as godfather for the Admiral's twin sons…one of whom is our boss, the Golden Avenger. If you'd ever looked around old Sweet Pea's office, you'd have seen pictures of the whole lot of squids together.  Or would that be a gaggle of squids? Perhaps a murder of squids? Hm.." he muses.

"At any rate, this entire situation is highly unusual -- you know it, I know it, we all know it, even the Campbell over there," MacGowan gestures to Hideo, grimacing at the taste of the coffee.  "But I can tell you that I haven't logged ten months on this investigation just to blow it to a bunch of amateurs, and I don't think the Avenger would have sent us here if he didn't think it wasn't going to help.  I know I've been out of town and haven't been much a part of the team as much as I used to, but even I know things are wonky at HQ.  If we weren't about to find something really bizarre out, why the hell wouldn't we have saved the taxpayers five tickets out to San Francisco and room and board? We're here for a reason that the Avenger didn't feel it was safe to discuss while in Washington, or why would we have bothered?  Obviously he trusts Armitage, and so will we."

Flushing furiously from the rebuke, Diane looks down at her feet, desperately trying to find something to say. Jeez, I really stepped in it there. Worst of all, he's right - I didn't do all of the homework I should have for this....

"As I was saying, Agent Canfield," Hideo continues smoothly, "why would there be anyone 'hiding out from us' here? Do you know something the rest of us don't?" Eyeing Diane's silently blushing figure, he adds silently, I hope you appreciate my sticking my hand in the blender like this, Simms.

"Rumor has it that Armitage hires paranormals," Canfield reveals bluntly.  "It was in my report, as I'm sure you know.  Doesn't it strike you as being a tad odd that we didn't see anyone on our way in besides the receptionist -- and we walked past four offices."

"I didn't see anyone when I got the coffee, either," Hanson adds.  "But I don't know if that's any reason to get suspicious.  It's 11 o'clock -- maybe they all went out for an early lunch."

Canfield shrugs.  "Maybe, maybe not. Just strikes me as being a bit odd."

"Or perhaps, knowing the nature of the subjects we are likely to be discussing." Hideo offers, "he has dismissed the staff in order to prevent a potential leak from occurring. Would that not fit the facts equally well?"  As well as providing any individuals who wished to avoid us a plausible reason to so do, he finishes mentally.

Why is he going out of his way to divert attention from my gaffe? Diane wonders, finally snatching up her coffee and sipping at it. What does he want? She shakes her head, Stop that kid, you've been in Washington too long. Just because he covered for you there doesn't mean he wants something from you.

"Now that," MacGowan says, "Is a very reasonable proposition.  In fact, I--"

A soft knock on the door interrupts MacGowan, and David Armitage enters the room with Martin behind him.  "Hello," the owner of AI Inc says, "I'm David Armitage, and this is Martin DuQuense.  I must say I appreciate your coming, though I imagine you're wondering what the hell is going on.  Well," he looks at Martin, "So are we."

Armitage shakes hands with the PRIMUS agents, then sits at the head of the conference table; MacGowan removes his feet from the table and leans forward.

"Nice to meet you, Captain Armitage," MacGowan says.  "And nice to see you again, Mr. DuQuense."

"Show off," Canfield mutters so only Hideo can hear it, then murmurs pleasantries to the AI Inc personnel.  Hanson follows suit, and then waits for the investigators to begin.

"Good to see you too, MacGowan," Martin smiles artificially. Setting the folder in his hands down on the table he continues, "I've been meaning to look you up for some time now, but we just seem to keep missing each other. I'm sure this will give us the chance to catch up on all sorts of things...." His smile, artificial as it was, vanishes, as he finishes flatly,  "Like where the hell you sent my partner to rot."

MacGowan continues to smile, but weakly, though there's no mistaking Canfield's smirk at his discomfort.  "I didn't send anyone 'to rot,'" he says.  "I gave her the most valuable piece of information that I could."

"I'm sure we'll have lots of time to go over that later," Martin replies meaningfully. "But I'm sure your friends didn't come all the way out here to listen to us talk about that. Just don't run off after we're done."

"I don't think that's a problem, Mr. DuQuense," MacGowan replies.  "It appears that Mira didn't tell you the whole story, did she?"

"Other than your name, very little," Martin replies. "but that's a perfectly good starting place for later on." And we *will* have that conversation later on MacGowan, he adds silently, you can bank on it.

"I suppose that the best place to start is with common ground," Armitage begins.  "At Rubicon.  Our medical expert tied the paranormal deaths last year to Rubicon --"

"Marisa Emori," Canfield says bluntly.  "Yes, we know.  She's not terribly discreet."

Armitage shoots her a sharp look.  "Yes…" he says, sounding, to Martin's ears, slightly troubled, "But that's neither here nor there.  The point is that Rubicon is involved in these deaths, most probably in the realm of development of the virus.  The next question was why, and at whose behest."  He nods to Martin to continue.

No sense pulling any punches here, Martin thinks. Might as well come out with guns blazing - if only to keep them off balance. "Why is easy," Martin picks up smoothly. "The paranormals almost certainly died during the testing process as elements within Rubicon reverse-engineered the process whereby the Cyberline-Rosenberg retrovirus was created, adapting it so they could establish their own paranormal creation process."

What! Diane thinks sharply, choking on her coffee. How did he...?

Hideo raises an eyebrow. Interesting, he muses, one of the best-kept secrets of the Twentieth Century was broken by a mere private investigator? Perhaps these people are more competent than they appear.

"In a nutshell, yes," MacGowan responds frankly.  "But that doesn't answer the issue of who bankrolled it, or why some members of our organization were so insistent that it be hushed up."

"The operation appears to have been bankrolled by a group of individuals connected to a prominent right-wing Christian group," Martin says leaning forward. "The 'Keeping Promises' organization to be precise - the same group that your new Intelligence Director was a founding member of."

"What?" Diane bursts out, unable to remain silent. "You're saying that...."

"What I'm saying, Agent Simms," Martin replies calmly, "is that your new Intelligence Director is quite possibly involved at the highest levels in this operation. Which, I suppose, explains why we are meeting here - and not in his new backyard in DC."

"Keeping Promises?" Hanson asks.  "Don't get me wrong, but…we're talking about a bunch of guys praying in stadiums.  I've been to a gathering or two, and they've seemed pretty innocuous.  Certainly no paranormal bashing."

Martin nods, "Of course not - they would hardly expect to draw the kind of crowds and support they currently enjoy if they did." Reaching for the folder, he begins to hand out files from it to the agents, "These files are transcripts of interviews with a pair of individuals whose experiences with the organization were somewhat different than the run-of-the-mill group members. I think you'll find some pieces of information in there that will be... interesting."

For a few moments the room is silent as the agents read Martin's reports.  "This is rather incriminating," Canfield says at last, looking troubled.  "I don't suppose we could question them as well?"

"That might be arranged," Martin admits. "But both they - and I - are going to want some assurances before it happens. The young lady's account relates quite plainly that her attempts to bring this to PRIMUS' attention in Kansas City were buried, and Mr. McIntosh hasn't met with a great deal of success either." Do I or don't I? he asked himself silently, casting a glance at the agents. David said he'd take care of Dorothy if they insisted on going to court with it, but.... "And there have been other... complications since this began."

"Exactly what kind of 'assurances' would we be discussing Mr. DuQuense?" Hideo asked quietly. "There are, as you are no doubt aware, limits on the sorts of things we may promise and have reasonable expectations of having the agreement remain binding after review by our superiors."

Martin nods, "I understand that. For right now, I'm willing to arrange a meeting for one or two of you - not the whole group - with them on an individual basis. I set the time and the place, and if you bring back-up, or try and alter the arrangements in any way, it's off." All right, let's see what they do with that one, he mused. Feels kinda funny to be on the other side of the 'need to know' stick PRIMUS brandished while I was on the force.

Just where does he get off dictating conditions to us? Diane thinks, then stops as memory surfaces. He sounds just like Agent Wilkerson talking to a bunch of NYPD officers whose case he's just stolen, she muses. He's been on the other side of the fence from a PRIMUS investigation somewhere.... Leaning forward, she studies Martin closely, trying to dredge up anything about him that might've been in the
briefing she skimmed incompletely. Teach me to read skydiving magazines instead of my briefing, she sighs.

"Well," MacGowan says, "Let's leave off that for now.  What we're after here is hard proof of wrongdoing -- and we're here working with you because we can't trust our own people."   At Canfield's intake of breath, he shrugs.  "That's the long and short of it, isn't it now?  What we need to do is gather enough evidence that the DoJ can build a case against Rubicon or whoever is involved in this mess, and it certainly looks to me that there's at least civil rights violations here.  The problem is that any leads we have are abruptly cut off before we can pursue them.  To be honest," he eyes Martin and Armitage, "I think there's a leak…on the PRIMUS end of things.  Now, I certainly can't prove that, but I think it's something you should be aware of since we're working together here."  He continues to look at Martin straight on, intently, not threatening, but simply as though saying, "You do know what I mean, don't you?"

Martin nods once, a tiny motion that would appear meaningless to anyone not directly looking at him.

"By the way," MacGowan adds, "You do know that everyone of those dead paranormals in the Bay had some kind of tie to KP, don't you?"

"They were probably all individuals who fell for the KP 'cleansing' line." Martin agrees. "The ones who weren't as lucky as Russ or Marilyn." He pauses, "Maybe I can give you something to work with though. Russ liberated something from the facility he escaped from, something they wanted back badly enough to send a goon squad to retrieve from him right before Christmas - a map and set of GPS coordinates for a site in Mexico."

"Would that, by chance," Hideo asks, "have anything to do with those 'complications' you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes," Diane chimes in. "You never did explain about that."

Armitage glances at Martin.  As he'd told the investigator earlier in the morning, exactly how much of the story PRIMUS got was entirely up to him -- Tran flatly refused to be involved in the investigation unless she didn't have to deal with PRIMUS, and had left early.

Martin sighs.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  If they're bad, they're going to get me anyway, and if they're not, it might be enough to get them something they can use.  I've got to trust somebody.  "The day I went to interview Mr. McIntosh, a group of individuals arrived at his apartment before I did.  They worked Russ over and were in the process of tossing his apartment when I arrived to find out why he had missed our meeting.  While I have no direct knowledge of what they said to Russ, outside of what he has told me. they certainly acted like a professional clean up squad -- no IDs, labels trimmed from their clothing, the works.  They also had a metahuman with them, a very unpleasant sort your boss supposedly put away for life a year or two back..."

Uh-oh, Diane thinks. I read *that* report anyway. I have a bad feeling I know where this is going.

"...homicidal pedophile who went under the descriptive nickname of 'Spike'," Martin finishes, unable to keep the disgust in his voice from showing.

Hanson is the first to speak.  "I think I know what you're saying, Mr. DuQuense, but --"

"But I'm sure we don’t need to discuss that right now, either," MacGowan smoothes over.  "What is important is that I think we all know that KP is paranormal obsessed -- they're recruiting in Stronghold, for Christ's sake, and they're brewing their own.  I guess having millions of macho men crying in stadiums isn't enough?"

"I agree with MacGowan," the dark-haired, green-eyed woman by the window says abruptly.  "I see all the same connections, but what's the point?  If Intelligence Director Coombs is in on this, why would anyone need to bother with a virus like this, or perverted freaks like Spike…we live in a world of biological, chemical, and conventional weaponry, and those things are far more reliable than counting on paranormals to do your bidding."

They agreed on something? Diane thinks, startled.

Martin nods slowly. "I know. I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a reason for it, something that makes it make sense." He sighs heavily, "I think I found it last night. I was up late after my daughter went to bed, watching a movie, and it came to me - the reason why the paranormals are involved, what they're after, all of it. It was all there in front of me on the screen." He sits on the edge of the table, glancing down at his hands, "I'd really like to be wrong though."

Diane looks at the other agents, then starts to ask the obvious question - only to be beaten to the punch by Hideo. "What," he asks calmly, "movie were you watching?"

Martin looks up, and, with sad smile answers, "Schindler's List."

"And KP are the Nazis?" Hanson asks.  "You're saying they're bent on extermination of paranormals?"

"And put us all out of work?" Canfield sniffs.  "How rude."

"No," Hideo says slowly. "I don't think that is what Mr. DuQuense means."

Martin nods towards the Iron Guard Agent, "You're right, it isn't - at least not exactly. Try looking at it this way," he offers, standing up and moving to look out the window at the rain swept city. "You have a group of powerful, ambitious men; a group of easily identified, 'different' individuals; and a great deal of social unrest."

"You're wrong," Diane blurts out in sudden understanding, "that can't happen here."

"It can happen anywhere Agent Simms," Martin corrects sadly. "I think these men see themselves as empire builders in the tradition of Lenin and Hitler. They will build the paranormal threat up through the use of their propaganda and their manufactured paranormals  - just as they are doing with the group calling itself 'The Rapture' in the Southeast - and when the public is ready, they will offer to save them." He turns to look at the agents, eyes examining them closely, "And you, all of you, will be their Brownshirts, their new SS, restricting our rights in the name of public safety until we have none left."

MacGowan raises his eyebrows at Martin's use of the word "we," but it is Armitage who speaks. "That is what my father saw in the wind," Armitage says, "Though he expected this to come from another direction than the government."

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not following this.  What would be the point of genocide?  They have their own pet paranormals to worry about if they used that virus," Hanson asks, his brow furrowed.  "I understand wanting to have power, but why have paranormals if you want to kill them all?"

"Unless these shadowy figures of our conspiracy see things the same way PRIMUS does," Armitage says.  "You don't consider yourselves paranormals, even though the assault agents and Avengers have paranormal abilities.  You see yourselves as being above that system."

"Certainly a valid viewpoint," Hideo interjects, "even if somewhat exaggerated."

"Really?" Martin asks softly. "Is it really? Look at yourselves, listen to the way you talk about paranormals among yourselves. Is it really exaggerated? Or is that you just don't want to examine some things too closely for fear of what you might see staring back at you in the mirror?"

Silence descends on the conference room, and only the sound of rain and wind outside, beating against the windows reigns for several minutes.

"Since ostensibly you're here to get to the bottom of this and gather evidence," Armitage says, "What do you propose to do next?"

"Personally," Martin sighs, "I'm going to answer Agent Hanson's last question." Turning to the older agent, he continues, "These people see paranormals as nothing more than the means to their end - if this were the 60's they'd be using blacks, and in the 50's, communists. They don't care about them as individuals, not even their own 'manufactured paranormals' are important to them - they're just tools. And we all know what we do with tools we don't need anymore... don't we?"

"Perhaps," Hideo interjects after a moment more's silence, "we might be better served by attempting to do as Mr. Armitage suggests and discern what we are to do to prove or disprove this theory of yours, rather than engaging in a discussion of the evils that man is capable of inflicting on himself? We can, at least, attempt the former with some hope of success."

And much less personal embarrassment, Diane adds to herself.

"Probably a better plan," Martin admits. "I have some more financial records here for you to look at, both on KP and Rubicon...." He pages through the folder, then goes through it again, finally sighing, "Okay, I have some background material and character work on the scientists at Rubicon for you to look at - my financial data hasn't made it off the printer yet." Handing the sheets, he continues, "The financial data should be here any minute...."

Almost as if on cue, Tirzah steps quietly into the conference room and hands him a sheaf of computer printouts, then slips into the chair next to him, waiting unobtrusively for him to acknowledge her presence.

"Thank you Tirzah," Martin nods, "right on time." Handing the printouts out to the agents, he continues, "Tirzah, these are the agents Avenger Johnson sent to work with us: Agents MacGowan, Kobayashi, Simms, Hanson, and CanfieId. Agents, this is Tirzah McMurtry, out resident computer genius."

"Pleased to meet you," Diane says with a smile. My God, she thinks, is that what I would've become if I'd stayed a mousy computer nerd?

Hideo nods pleasantly, "Ms. McMurtry."

Tirzah smiles pleasantly and nods at each agent in turn.
 
"I haven't reviewed this material myself," Martin advises. "Tirzah here was still working on it when I checked in last - but she assured me that it would be a pretty complete breakdown of the Rubicon finances." Glancing at the first page, he asks, "Anything surprising Tirzah?"

She shrugs lightly.  "Surprising?  No.  Wrong?  Most definitely.  If you'll look at page three," she flips open the laptop computer she placed on the table when she came in, "You can see that Rubicon is showing far too much... profit on its work for PRIMUS.  There are also some internal memos -- pages three through seven -- referring to their project in some pretty vague terms, as well as some mention of Merrill's notes."  She glances at Martin.  "Is there a Dr. Edwards associated with this project?  I couldn't find his name in the reports, but he's mentioned in several memos."    Tirzah's demeanor is totally different from anything Martin has seen from her before.  She is poised and confident, and speaks with almost military precision, all traces of her drawl gone.

"Dr. Edwards," he replies, with a thin smile towards MacGowan, "was the individual Mira was going to speak to when she ran into Agent MacGowan and was... sidetracked." Martin's smile grows a touch cooler as he turns to MacGowan, "Or do you have another euphemism for it these days? 'Buried' perhaps?"

Oh, this is just great, Diane sighs. First we get this from Canfield and MacGowan all the way out here, and now we've got to go through it all over again with this guy. She rolls her eyes slightly, What did I do to deserve this? Kicking bad-guy butt is loads easier than this - even with the paperwork.

MacGowan shrugs, belying his earlier concern.  "Your partner is a big girl, Mr. DuQuense, and while I think she's in danger, surely you're acquainted enough with her character to figure she got herself there without any help from me."

Please God, let them just drop this, Diane groans to herself. I can't deal with this much more without losing my cool.

"Look MacGowan," Martin begins, raising a finger to point at the seated agent "I...."

"That's it!" Diane snaps, standing up. "I've had it to here with this crap! I had to listen to it from them," she waves a hand indicating MacGowan and what could be half of the other agents, "all the way out here, and I'm not going through this again. If you two want to keep on playing silly ass posturing games, that's fine with me - just take it outside. In fact, why don't you just go outside and pound the crap out  of each other while the rest of us try and solve the *real* problem here? Or is a little *adult* behavior to much to ask?" She pauses, face flushed, and stares at the two of them for a second, then seems to wilt. Oh God - I just bitched out my supervisor, she thinks to herself, horrified. I'm dead.

MacGowan says nothing, merely regarding Diane coolly and with a look full of amused contempt while Andrea Canfield makes a suspicious choking sound.

"Obviously this is an unusual situation," David Armitage says soothingly, "and not one PRIMUS or we are well acquainted with handling.  I know we all want to get to the bottom of things, Agent Simms, else none of us would be here.  The added temptation of one of my people being in danger has, of course, contributed to the stress here.  What I propose at this point is for us to break into two groups of people -- one to determine what the heck is going on in Mexico, while the other devotes itself to Rubicon proper."

Slipping back into her chair when everyone's eyes turn to Armitage, Diane tries to slither down into her chair and become invisible, the faintest hint of a tear wrung from her by embarrassment burning at her eye. I can't belive it - I just made a fool of myself in front of the whole team, Sweet Pea's godfather, and these other two people. God, I want to die.

Hideo shakes his head, controlling a smile as the redhead tries to fade from view after her outburst. I think Diane will be quiet for a bit now, he decides. Not that she said anything I didn't wish to say - she just spoke before thinking of the consequences. Silently, he slips her a pair of folded Kleenex from his jacket pocket under the table.

What! Diane jumps, managing to keep her voice silent as the featherlight touch of the Kleenex startles her. What're you... oh. Flushing again, the scarcely faded blush brightening as if it had never lost color, she clutches at the tissues and surreptitiously daubs at a corner of one eye when she thinks no one is looking. Why is he being so nice to me? She thinks suspiciously. Not that he isn't cute, but he's not my type.

"That sounds reasonable," Martin agrees. God knows it's more positive thinking than *I've been doing in the last couple of minutes, he adds to himself.

"Terrific!" Armitage says, standing.  "Tirzah, why don't you work with Agents MacGowan, Kobayashi and Hanson, since you've been doing much of the work on Rubicon, as I know Agent MacGowan here has, and Martin, since you're more knowledgeable about the Mexico aspect, you could work with Agents Canfield and Simms.  If you'll excuse me, I have a lunch, ah, appointment, but page me if you need me.  It was nice meeting all of you," he finishes, standing, "And I have, as does Daniel, the utmost faith in your abilities."

Tirzah nods and as Armitage walks away thinks, Great. First real assignment and it's working with guys who don't even know enough to keep their inter-squad differences to themselves.

Martin nods, "Yes sir." Probably for the best that MacGowan and I split up anyway, he thinks. Even if I get a chance to apologize, it'd be... strained.

Hideo nods to Armitage in acknowledgement. Obviously the Captain hasn't completely left the Navy, he thinks. Or is that, the Navy hasn't left him?