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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 11, 2010 9:49:09 GMT -5
Conferences held in here are primarly for senior scientists and researchers. Discussions on current situations across viral testing and B.O.W. research are held here.
This room is a lot more spacious than the T.S.T.F. briefing room with a huge rectangular table in the middle along with leather chairs. The hardware is also a little more advanced too, with a drop down projector at the back of the room and LCD screens at each sitting position.
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Post by Evening in Missoula on May 14, 2010 0:40:01 GMT -5
Mischa Chesnikov sat at the table in the main conference room, legs crossed at the ankles and staring straight ahead. The room was dimly lit, just enough to see, just as she preferred it. It was colder than usual, but she didn't mind. Mischa was the pinnacle of calm and collected, fingers laced together, hands resting on the table on top of a file. Her hair hair was pulled back with the bangs pushed off to the side. Makeup was dark around the eyes and her lips were painted a red reminiscent of cold blood. She had on a white blouse and a high-waisted pencil skirt. It was all flawless, not a wrinkle or smudge or stray hair to be found. This was something she was sure of now, something that she was always absolutely sure of. If you looked perfect, then you were less likely to be suspected of anything.
Her eyes were slightly narrowed as she was absorbing the information that she had just recently read. Communications were out, they couldn't contact the team in Mexico. Hmm, curious. Feeling nothing but curiosity at the current time, she was interested to see what her employer had to say on the topic. Mr. Marlboro was, after all, the one she was here to meet with. She side-glanced casually at the dainty wristwatch that sat on her wrist. That meeting would be starting any moment now.
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on May 14, 2010 1:26:34 GMT -5
A over shadowed image of who she knew to be Hammond Marlboro… codenamed “The Watcher” in his own right appeared on the screen within seconds of her sitting down. The automatic locks on the conference rooms doors all clicked with back to back lightening fast motions until the room itself was sealed off completely. Just after the security locks had fallen into place… the glass paneling had become a black as abyss to cut the view off from anyone who would be trying to peer into a conversation that they should not be previewed to. The sounds of the ventilation now humming more loudly could sound like a repair issue to the average ear… but to those that knew Mr. Marlboro’s methods… it was just another means to cloak the conversation in the best way possible without eliminating the entire Tricell Staff. To make the whole situation even more devious…
The darkly shadowed image of Hammond Marlboro spoke with a distorted tone as his extremely off pitched voice would flood over the communications link with ease. The sounds sometimes could lead one to thinking that it was like bass drums being followed by nails screeching across a chalk board… all the same… Mr. Marlboro’s charming voice was now reduced to a semi-alien sounding attempt to create human speech. The shadow showed no signs of emotion, although his assistant would be sure that he was smiling… As he usually did in the start of her company… Smile…
He did always love to keep good company… and she was one of the best in his personal arsenal to conduct information exchanging with. She was flawless in terms of keeping up with the game… and was well aware, not to mention… loyal to Mr. Marlboro’s views on Business Politics. Nothing seemed to be too far out of her reach… This was something that he cherished dearly…
He had given her the codename “Ebony” due to her heart being as beautiful and as black as the darkness that caresses the night. This was a trait that he actually found uncommon to pull off for such a successfully outgoing persona even in the most demanding situations. The truth that both Hammond and Mishca were both well aware of was that she played by rules for personal gain. It was very much in her best interest to stay as loyal as possible as Hammonds personal assistant… Betrayal would most likely be unheard of… Seeing as she has personally dealt with ‘many’ of “The Watcher’s” supposed enemies…
” Very nice to see you again, Ebony. I must say that you look more stunning each time we have these little sessions.”
A brief pause occurred before the man spoke again through the distorted tone.
” Do you have any current data on the status of the team?”
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Post by Evening in Missoula on May 14, 2010 17:06:38 GMT -5
As her boss's distorted image appeared on the screen, a pleasant smile pulled at the full red lips of the Russian beauty. She very much enjoyed doing business with Mr. Marlboro. Her father was far too soft, especially for a weapons dealer. He'd actually trusted her, which was probably his biggest mistake and the one that lead to his ultimate demise. That oaf was the biggest imbecile she knew, she'd so enjoyed the look on his face when she pushed that needle into his throat... But her new employer, he understood. He understood the person that she was, how she thought and worked. He understood her politics and most of all he understood that she wasn't in this for any reasons but her own. No misconceptions, it just allowed her to do as she did best and to much more freely be as she always had been.
Mischa's right eye twitched slightly, almost not noticeably as he began to speak. She understood the security procedures, they were smart, but that noise was horrible. Terribly irritating. But her pleasant smile remained, her outward expression completely unchanged by her inward annoyance. As it had always been, her mind was a realm completely apart from the world around her.
”Very nice to see you again, Ebony. I must say that you look more stunning each time we have these little sessions.” He spoke, such a flatterer. She tilted her head slightly and watched the screen intently before retorting.
"Thank you sir, how you flatter me. I am certain that you look dashing as well, though I cannot particularly tell through the, ah, security procedures." She purred, accent thick.
”Do you have any current data on the status of the team?”
She nodded, "Yes, Watcher. Communication was cut not long ago. Although, right before contact was lost we had verification that they were in warehouse yard. We also had verification that they seemed to have company, an advanced B.O.W that Sharne had apparently released. As soon as they got far enough in, communication was jammed up, we have no contact." Resting her head in her hands a bit more casually, she looked at the screen with a playful curiosity in her eyes, having no real concern for the team. "We have a few options. Wait for communication to cease being jammed- unlikely. We could send backup- although that could very well be absolutely useless as their communication would no doubt be jammed as well." Her smile turned feline. "I am curious as to what you have planned sir."
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Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on May 18, 2010 22:44:59 GMT -5
Hammond Marlboro’s silhouette sat motionless in his chair on the screen with a awkward silence surrounding his eerie nature. The pause was his way of letting Ebony know that what information was about to leave his mouth was of utmost importance. A sly devious grin appearing on his well managed face… although due to the shading it would not be noticed. The silhouette changed in posture with what yould appear to be his right hand rising to the place in which his chin would be located. A sound of files being flipped through chimed across the speakers. Then the pause ceased as Mr. Marlboro spoke with another series of distorted tones. A sense of complete dominance in business tactics now apparent with little regard to what the news would bring.
” Sharne is of no importance to me, quite frankly. The man will die in a pool of his own blood before this is through. The Bio Weapons that he released were test subjects based on a Rogue Version of T-Viral Samples. It appears that Wil Pharma renegades have taken the liberty to provide our adversary with high concentrated doses of a potent agent that gives these creatures the ability to co-exist without Human interaction… What I crave to know is if it has something to do with the mess that occurred in Section C of the Laboratories a week back.”
The screen would shift as Hammond’s image rose into the left hand corner of the screen. Images showing large pools of blood with docking worker lying face down flooded the screen. Tricell Forces appeared as well… shooting the men whenever they would show signs of breath left in their body. One man would attempt to fight back as a machete quickly ripped a gaping hole into the tender throat… spilling large amounts of crimson liquid in perfect execution. It appeared that someone, most likely Mr. Hammond… Had ordered the execution to take place. The hallways were covered in blood as the clean up crews moved in to correct the problem.
” A specimen was stolen that day… Never recovered… I have reason to believe that a certain intelligence officer on our listings has information that I need.
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Post by Evening in Missoula on May 18, 2010 23:13:48 GMT -5
Mischa rode out the pause without a hint of awkwardness, watching the screen intently though with that usual playfulness in her gaze. She seemed not to even blink, sitting up as he started to speak. She smoothed out her skirt as he briefed her, hearing the grin in his voice. Mischa smiled inwardly as well. She should have guessed that he wasn't after Sharne specifically, especially after she'd read of that hunter. No matter, she knew now. The screen shifted and she watched intently, staring at the blood. A beautiful execution indeed, albeit a little messy, it was almost distracting... Not distracting enough though, to keep her from hearing his last comment.
”A specimen was stolen that day… Never recovered… I have reason to believe that a certain intelligence officer on our listings has information that I need."
For a moment her grin turned devilish. For a very brief moment it was apparent how much the idea thrilled her. And thrill her it did, so long as she was thinking the same as her employer was. And she usually was. Then, as quickly as it had come, the flash was gone. "Sir," She started, sitting up straight with perfect posture. "Give me the information I need to find him, and you will get the information that you need to find your sample." She continued to smile and with one fluid, graceful movement she uncrossed her legs and stood, stepping away from the table.
"Well, provided that you do not mind him missing some skin." Her knives had been a little more than neglected lately, poor things. An assignment is just the relief that they needed.
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