|Trixie||Midmorning, local time in Maracaibo, and it's already sweltering, predictably. Trixie pushes through the lobby door and breathes a loud, relieved sigh as she's greeted by clean, air-conditioned air.
"Ohmi/gawd/... I almost feel human again," she says wearily. "We can't get out of this nasty green sauna soon enough."
|Esa||Esa heads to the Eagle research building, stepping inside the lobby before heading for the elevator banks. Pausing, he spots Trixie and smiles "Hey Trix." He says and adds "Here to see Major Stadler?"|
|Richard Stadler||Certainly, Rick might have gotten this started simply because freon in Maracaibo is worth it's wait in gold. The receptionist at the entrance to the building, a clean cut local woman, starts to offer a greeting, before recognizing Trixie and Esa. "Ahh. UP the stairs, big office to the left." She says, simply. Stadler wasn't the type who wanted pleasentries wasted when speed could be gained from it. At least in this instance.
Up the stairs, past a few offices, and the into one that's somewhat big, and has an actually okay view of the Lake. Stadler's sitting at the desk there, quickly signing a few documents and filling out paper work. DoD paperwork. It seems like he's not seperating military and business work.
"Good to see you both." He says, indicating them to the two chairs in front of them. "How do you like it? Construction work in Paris really goddamn paid off, I'd say."
|Trixie||"Hello, Sir. And yes, I am. Maybe he'll post me in this building or something," Trixie replies, with a weak smile for Esa. She manages another weak smile to the receptionist and a soft, "Muchas Gracias," perhaps half the Spanish she knows, before heading upstairs as bidden.
She dredges up a smile for Stadler and takes the offered seat, looking around the office appreciatively. "I'll say, Sir... I can actually breathe in here. Not like that soup outside. And this place feels like a First World corporate HQ... I can't believe it's the same company as the Paris location." She unslings a scuffed Pelican case from her shoulder and sets it on the floor beside her chair, out of everyone's way. "Though I get the feeling you didn't ask me over for the air conditioning. What's on your mind?"
|Esa||"Maybe." He replies with a warm smile as he nudges her with his elbow. "Cheer up, I know you can smile a little better than that."
Esa took in the building quietly as he walks. He didn't know much about the Eagle research, and was mildly surprised to know it was owned by Richard. As he walks inside, he moves silently to the chair indicated and sits down. He listens, for now.
|Richard Stadler||Richard Stadler nods. "Corporate HQ is still going to be in Paris. Despite the look of this place, most of the research is going on over there. There's a few patents, some piecemeal work we're getting from other companies, that should allow us to break even with a bit of research going on, so don't expect me to start living in a mansion. Even if there's this Ranch in Denver I have my eyes on, and there may be another something I can... add to the profolio once we travel furthur afield."
A pause, and he looks a bit more dour. "Granted, there's a reason I'm trying to set up these resources. Esa briefed me a few days ago, and I wanted to bring you in, because I think you're someone I can trust. If you're not, then you're a good liar, at least, so I won't feel guilty. FBC is... a bit rotten. We've got elements working for Umbrella inside the agency, and rumors abound that the Director-General is invested in WilPHarma, and conducting B.O.W. research. Nothing's soild, yet. Nothing we can take to the press or to higher ups, but... I'm sure you've gotten the feeling. And I can't say, right now, that I'm clean, myself."
|Trixie||Trixie's smile vanishes completely and she slowly lowers her face into her hands. "It just never gets any better, does it? Colonel Cool's in bed with the enemy, Fat Tom Thomas and the BBC news has pegged us as murderers /again/... and now there's /even more/ rotten apples in the barrel? Can you at least tell me that /you're/ not working for Umbrella or any other bad guys, Sir? 'Cause right now I'm totally starting to feel like the square peg trying to squeeze into a whole pegboard full of round holes."|
|Esa||"Trix, relax." Esa says comforting before looking to Rick. "She's been debriefed on nearly everything you've spoken; though some of it is new information." He replies leaning back. "Frankly, and honestly, Rick.. I've had my own taskforce looking in to Wesker and moles within the FBC for about a month before I approached you. I had to know if you were clean or not." He adds calmly.
Leaning back, he adds "And we have our first confirmation of AWOL rogue elements in FBC; one Thomas Dirriger. Been AWOL a while and showed up in Cabimas trying to steal medical supplies for the BLF. He is also the one responsible for my wound." He pats the upper right pec of chest where the round went through. "Additionally, he gave up the supplies location and.. I will be working with Andrei to retrieve it." He notes. "He is listed with a APB and information has been sent to D.C. for his dishonorable discharge."
|Richard Stadler||Richard Stadler sighs for a moment. "A man came to visit me on that houseboat I bought. Turned out it used to belong to a drug dealer, who had two keys and change of cocaine and a gun still stored there. His employer, El Papa- and I'm sure you read the dossier on him- came to me and offered me a deal. Transport some crates on the Liberty in exchange for asisstance with our operations in Coro. Given the fact that those crates don't contain anything illegal if I don't make a point of trying to confirm it, and the lives saved, I went along with the offer. The six men with guns with him might have had something to do with it, but I'm not using that excuse."
Rick brings up his fingers, and indicating Esa. "He's the one with most of the information, and, to be honest, I don't blame you for looking into me, Collins. I've started seeing the benefits to having a lot of different contingencies, and doing that for good is hard to tell fror doing it from bad."
Leaning back, and frowning. "Though, the latter part, I'm glad to see we can confirm. I assume that's why you had me up in a Blackhawk a few days ago. I wish we could have capped the son of a bitch when he was driving, but I'll settle for someone bringing me his head." He notes, before wincing at the image of the wound. "Did you need me to take a look at that?" He asks.
"Good, though. Getting the information. Tell Kirov that I need to talk to him about operations in Coro, too. That needs to get kicked off."
|Trixie||Trixie doesn't lift her head from her hands, but at least she isn't sobbing into them this time. "Was that the 'FBC man shooting at innocents' old Fat Tom was talking about? This Thomas Dirriger? I hope you find him /quick/. I mean, Emma's people wouldn't let us carry weapons openly when I was doing the humanitarian aid thing in Cabimas. I was done and on the way home long before any real trouble showed up. Not that we didn't have some serious snags, with medical supplies being stolen and people trying to fight over provisions. No wonder the U.N. posts armed guards at their aid stations. But what he did was totally something else again. I halfway wish I'd been able to get another day's leave, so maybe we could've bagged him then and there. But at least maybe we can get those supplies back now."
She finally looks up at the Major explains just why he's 'dirty'. "The six men with guns works for me. Even if half of me wishes you hadn't told me about any of that. Oh, that reminds me... I picked up a tidbit of data from an old friend of my father that says James Marcus apparently had kids of his own... and hid them under the name of Scott. Which has totally got me wondering if the pusher that kept asking me for a date back in high school is related to him. I mean, what are the odds?"
|Esa||To Trixie, Esa say's "The man got away after breaking free from his binds. I was able to get what I wanted from him anyways and, like I said, put the APB on his ass. The rest is up to the governments." A shrug.
"Er, no Rick. The guy who shot me on the roof and at the Blackhawk was Thomas. I have no clue who was in the truck." Esa replies calmly. "But I had you come in because the truck was loaded down with medical and food supplies for Cabimas courteous of Terrasave on behalf of the UN." He refrains from telling him more; just the basics would do. He shakes his head slightly regarding the wound. "No, Bob has checked it out and treated it over the last few days. Aside from soreness, I am okay." He adds with a gentle smile.
|Richard Stadler||Rick gives a bit of a nod to Esa. "Sorry, Collins. Maybe I've got too much work on my lpate if I'm screwing the details up. We need to make sure those supplies are retrived, in any case. Secured and brought back to Cabimas. Might help repair some of the damage we've gotten from the press and that moron at the BBC. Do whatever you can to make that happen." He notes. "Trixie, if you get any sort of intelligence on him, same thing. I want him taken in for the cameras, but if that isn't possible, put tw oin the back of his head for me." He says.
But then a sigh, and an effort to shake his head as if to clear it. "Well, let's put a pin in that for now. Something that can be dealt with in the long term, but I'd say the main reason I called you here is I and Collins need people we can trust in this organization. At this time, I think it's time we started thinking about accomplishing our objectives from within and without the FBC. If the organzation isn't going to last, I want the people and the mission to outlast them. So, for that, some professional development goals. First, think you can take up some experience with explosives? We have a qualification avalible for a grenider, and I want to see if you can fill it. Second, have you been to college?"
|Trixie||"I'm... not the one who can score hearts and minds, or just minds in this case, from behind, Sir," Trixie admits softly, suggesting that maybe those were the wrong sort of instructions. "If he tries to kill me or anyone else, I'll be glad to give him that Swiss cheese feeling all over, though. /That/ I can totally do. Even if I doubt the BBC will see fit to mention that we corralled a traitor /and/ did TerraSave a favor by getting their supplies back for them. Doesn't fit their idea of news. Maybe if the S.A.S. did it, they'd cover it."
She blinks at the question. "I can try, Sir. I've never even handled many firecrackers in my day, but I've used a grenade launcher, and that makes bigger booms. So I guess that counts for something. And college was the whole reason I joined the Guard, Sir. Couldn't afford it after my parents got killed, so I was kind of hoping the G.I. Bill would be there for me in a few years. Why's it important? 'Cause that totally came out of left field, y'know?"
|Esa||Esa sighs, running a hand through his head slowly. "This information does not leave the room." He says calmly, looking between Rick and Trixie. "James Scott is James Marcus son. Mister Scott is currently on a vendetta to find mister Spencer and kill the man." He replies "For what happened to officer Vivienne and for Umbrella did to him." He adds.
Leaning back, he looks between Richard and Trixie. "Thomas is a pain in the ass, but he is a minor dirt bag in the grand scheme of things. If he is working for BLF, it will make him all that much harder to pin down and arrest. BLF is everywhere." He notes lightly. "I say wash our hands of him, put a warrant out and just hold there. If any intelligence floats along my desk about his whereabouts, I'll send it to Trixie."
His head nods to Rick slightly. "Agreed on objectives. I'm still working the intelligence side, though I may have a possible lead. Once I get confirmation, I'll send it to you."
|Richard Stadler||Richard Stadler shakes his head. "In this case, I don't need you to score hearts and minds. I just need you to catch the bastard if you see him or get any intelligence on him. Collins is right, though. As much as I want to shoot that man in the head, we don't have enough resources for a dedicated man hunt. Target of oppurtunity he'll have to be, as we've got much bigger fish to fry. As in Coro itself. I'll want to have a discussion with all principles on that target there, and we'll see about securing it with what we've got here. We'll have to deal with BLF there, I'm guessing, but I'm hoping we might be able to make nice with the others."
"In terms of James Scott... understood. We won't deal with him unless he makes it an issue, which I don't think he will. Our objectives are paralell, so to speak."
And then back to MacKenzie. "The notion being it's easier to make an officer out of a college graduate than one whose just gone through high school. I want you to see that as a carrer objective. Take some initiative with some of the basic troops, if you can, as your roll as NCO. I'll see what we can do to get you some distance learning courses, but I need people I trust in the right places, and I need you to aim for that. Do you think you can?"
|Trixie||"Okay, but I get the feeling he'll become a much bigger fish if we don't nail him down soon," Trixie offers, shrugging. "And I meant /these/ hearts and minds," she adds, miming two pistol shots to the chest and a third to the head. "And just minds," she adds, miming two shots to the head. "Maybe it's best that I can't deal him out that way."
The suggestion about becoming an officer is met with a blink of surprise and a long look. "You mean go career F.B.C., career Army, as an /officer/? I... if it's /that/ important, I can try. I was only planning to be here until this whole bioterrorism thing was nailed down for good, and then I'm totally kissing the Army goodbye."
|Esa||Esa stays quiet as the two talk, a small smile on his face in approval of the idea for Trixie to take on a more active role within the organization.|
|Richard Stadler||Richard Stadler gives a slow nod. "Not asking you to be an assassin, in this case. I want him arrested, but I'm not going to lose any sleep if he shoots at you and you have to shot back. That's all I'm saying." He says. Not that she's a sniper that can line up a shot and put a bullet into a head of someone unexpected. On the second point, however.. that's a bit more important than who she can shoot.
"Carrer Army. I don't beleive the FBC will last, but the Army is eternal, and I'm going to make sure we can exist in it if the FBC goes belly up. This isn't a decision I can make for you, MacKenzie. I do think it's important, and that should be factored in, and I think you can do it, but this is a decision only you can make."
Stadler's silent for a moment. "I went Officer for something similiar, you know. Temporary. A few extra dollars and something for the resume as I got my life settled. But then you-know-what happened, and I found that this rank can be an oppurtunity. Where we can do good, keep civilization running. And if working for the FBC leaves a sour taste in your mouth, think of it more as you're working for me."
|Trixie||Trixie takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'll think about it. Preferably here, since I can think about something besides trying to breathe through soup, or how I've got a half-inch of sweat going squish in my boots every time I take a step. Maracaibo makes the worst case ever for wearing a uniform, butter bar or no butter bar. I'm not sure I'm seeing the opportunities you're talking about. Maybe just I'm not high enough up on the pay grade totem pole to see them."
She draws the Pelican case into her lap. "It's unrelated, but there /was/ something else I was wanting to talk about. I've seen the Senate report, and there was only one thing I agreed with... the P90 /is/ a liability. Rare ammo, magazines that break if you drop them, limited range, feed issues when you get down to the last half mag. Only place I use mine is training since I got that XM8," she says. "Since they're pushing for giving the new recruits M4's, I was wondering about getting in on the trend."
|Richard Stadler||"The best thing to do is to look at where men need leading, and lead them. If you think you need education, I can recommend a few books or courses. Or at least just make sure all the privates here without common sense remember to hydrate. I don't want to see more issues with heat stroke. Beyond that, I'd generally agree with you on the P90. Weapon's a rather good option for close quarters work, I'll say, but it's more a weapon that looks good, rather than one that can do the work over here. M4A1's a more... mature weapon system, and I'm not complaining. My own's been in use since Raccoon, and it can take more weapon options. Ammunition's easier to cross load to other weapons systems as well. Like the M8... and to be honest, if you've managed to pick up one of those, I think you're ahead of the curve."
A quick glance to the digital clock keeping time and showing an unagreeably high tempature. "And it looks like we're running low on time. Were there any other issues to bring up?"
|Trixie||"True, but anal Senate analysts look at you funny if you're requesting five-five-six NATO for a PDW... you know how hard they're pushing us about standardization. Never mind that our 'standard' target eats your face and needs a headshot to put down for good. Wonder how long they'd last if we force-outfitted them in their precious standard gear and kicked them into a mass of groaners? But I don't think I could do that. Not even to Thomas," Trixie murmurs, shaking her head. "And I can't think of anything else right now, but I'll be in touch if I do."|