2018.07.04 X-(Jusrisdiction) Files
X-(Jurisdiction) Files | |
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Sergeant Donahue meets a Special Agent assigned to investigate some happenings in Prospect. Professionalism can't solve everything. | |
IC Date | Wed Jul 4th, 2018 |
IC Time | 5:33:39 2018, PDT. |
Players | Faith, Theo |
Location | Prospect Police Department - Lobby and Detectives Section. |
Spheres | Mortal, Law |
--- Prospect Police Department - Foyer
The entry foyer for the police department is always lit, always staffed, and often busy. The foyer is a high ceiling room of tile. The Prospect PD shield is inlaid in the middle of the tile, the symbol about 4 feet across. DARE posters hang in a couple spots on the walls, as do plaques recognizing the officer of the month, and, under a folded flag, a small spotlit plaque bearing a handful of names. The engraved silver plate simply reads 'That Others May Live.' Several cameras watch from various angles. Directly across from the exterior doors is the duty desk, staffed by two or three uniformed officers. They sit behind thick glass, and speak with visitors by intercom. There's a pass through at each of the windows for visitors to send paperwork back. Next to the windows is a heavy door that the desk can open with a buzzer to allow visitors back into the rest of the police building. There is also a keypad next to the door to allow officers to let themselves through without bothering the desk sergeants.
Sergeant Donahue has just walked back in from the front sidewalk, letting the door close behind her. As she does, the officer manning the front desk stands up a little straighter, the one that was texting his girlfriend over by the entrance to the patrol desks immediately puts his phone in his pocket and looks like he was studying the bulletin board of the city's most wanted. Heavy footfalls carry her toward the back as she asks the Duty Officer, "How many random checks since Eleven?" The response is given after a mild kerfluffle of paperwork, "All but three Si.. errr Ma'am." The sour twitch of her mouth suggests Donahue's not entirely happy with the response. "Mark Sander off. He has the stomach bug and I told him to stay away from here, I went by his place and did it myself. "
Theo comes walking into the foyer, taking a moment to look around. The man's hands resting in his pockets as he makes his way up towards the patrol desk. Standing behind the Sergeant, and waiting patiently, even quietly for the men to get their shit together. The man's expression is reserved, as though he was faintly amused by the display.
The woman turns around after it appears that order has been restored, finding she actually has to raise her eyes a few inches to meet the gaze of the man in the suit. "Good afternoon, Sir. Can I be of service?" Seems that whomever this Sergeant is, she's not above handling business in the lobby.
Theo nods his head and lifts up a hand to lightly point a finger towards your tactical vest. "I'm going to take a guess... you're the Sergeant Donahue that Office Donnachaidh mentioned." he takes a moment to look you over quizzically, especially the body armor next to the Internal Affairs logo and asks, "Pretty powerful message you're wearing there Sergeant.. body armor inside, while working IA. This precinct really that dangerous for its own?" He motions his hand and says, "Sorry, not my business." Then he motions towards the desk and says, "Just need to get access to a few more case files."
"I was working double duty, I just came back from a SWAT call at a hot location Sir." She raises her eyebrow as you gesture at the desks then and adds, "Please come on back with me. Officer Donnachaidh did mention you the other day. Can I get you some water or a coffee?" She steps pack and pushes open the door the the detectives station, holding it open for him. "I'm afraid Donnachaidh didn't recall the pronunciation of your last name.. or your rank, or station?" There's something less than amused in her tone - but then again, wound tight and SWAT tend to go hand in hand.
Theo nods and says, "Sure, I remember those days. We normally debriefed, hit the showers, and went out for beers afterwards though." He mentions idly as he starts to follow you towards the desk. The man reaches into his inside jacket pocket, and takes out his flip and shows you his B&Cs. "Special Agent Theodore Giordano, Terrorism Task Force, FBI - Prospect." the man offers in a schooled and practiced method before motioning to slip his flip back into his inside pocket. "Actually Sergeant Donahue, I have seen your name on a few of the files I've been looking at. Perhaps you can help me out here at some point."
Prospect Police Department - Detectives Section
The detectives' bullpen is similar to the patrol officers', but here there are low dividers between the desks, many of them holding case related photographs, or maps of related crimes. The desks are the usual clutter of files and computers and phones and coffee cups...some tidy and others looking like a trainwreck. The detectives are most often in civilian clothes, coat and tie for the most part but some are in street clothes. Like the patrol bullpen there's a small cofffee station at one end of the room with fridge and microwave by it. The walls here are covered with maps, and a few motivational posters in a couple of spots, half hidden behind equipment lockers or supply cabinets.
"As soon as I get clearance, it would be my pleasure to assist you Special Agent Giordono." She follows after you into the detectives station, adding, "I would love to be out having a beer, but we've had three of our on-call duty officers and a detective fail breathalizers on one of the busiest days of the year. If we can't police our own behavior, then how are we expected to protect and serve the public?" Donahue pauses at one of the empty desks, while the bull pen shivers in a similar manner to the front desk with her appearance. "Do you prefer to use this space? Or something a little more private?" She turns to offer the option of interrogation.
Giordano shakes his head and motions, "Desk here is just fine, or I can pull up some wall and stay out of your all's hair." He considers that for a moment, and takes a second to look around. "Alcohol-use by on-duty officers a normal occurence here?" He asks, before walking over towards the desk to consider it before looking back, "Starting to miss my patrol days." he offers in light jest.
"I haven't been on IA long enough to know. Since there was no record of random testing for On Duty or On Call, I reinstated the protocol. I'm sure you've noticed it's made me a beloved member of the team." She reaches up to start removing the tactical vest as she nods toward the desk. "Then please, make yourself at home. I trust you have the clearance papers with you? I'll need to see them before I get you the files. They should have made a copy when you came in the first time. But I didn't see one so.." A tight smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, curling that scar upwards in a wicked sneer. "I hope you don't mind. I'm just particular about the details."
Giordano takes a moment, watching you and listening. Perhaps he is catching the vibe, or the tone, or recognizing some of the tell-tale signs and he nods. "Donahue, I'm probably getting the wrong impression here. Either that or you are. I went through your Captain already, and was assured I would have cooperation." He motions his hands out to the side and says, "It sounds like you're neck-deep in bullshit right now, and I can appreciate that. Tell you what, how about today I help you out - and after things cool off, you can help me. I'm in no rush, and you look like you could use a life preserver about now."
The woman who looks entirely too young to be a Sergeant, much less in charge of a division like Internal Affairs, responds with a lofted brow. "I'm sure you did go through the Captain. That would be the first step in the proper protocol - and it sounds to me like you worked your way up to your badge, didn't parachute into it from college." Setting the vest on the back of a the chair, perhaps to free her hands, or maybe because it's heavy, she offers her gloved hand. "No attitude intended Special Agent. I have two modes.. and I'm afraid you have dropped in on the only one I wear for work. Serious as a heart attack. So.. since the Captain hasn't filed the paperwork, I can call him at home on the Fourth of July, and tell him I need his copy because you don't have one.. or you could just give me a copy so I don't have to run a background check in addition to calling him, just to make sure you didn't buy the badge. I swear it's not personal. I just take the law very seriously."
Giordano nods his head, "I did.. I was a piece of shit on the wrong side of the law before I found myself in the Army.. serves a few tours, and rolled out onto a patrol. Did my time on the streets, got my shield.. and ended up getting picked up by the FBI a few years ago. Raised ranks working 90 hours a week for the last 14 years of my life, just to go sign it away to alimony payments for a daughter I barely know because of it." He reaches his hand into his inside jacket pocket, and pulls out some folded papers to hand them to you. "We can throw resumes, war stories, and flash scars if that's what it takes Donahue. But if we're going to keep to this mode, I might just request access to your gun range too." the man offers a light smile, and then his hand to you.
"I recommend the 16:30 Thursday slot.." she responds as she opens the paperwork to look over it, starting at the top of the first page. "The range officer is kind of a dick so no one shows up, and you get the place almost completely to yourself." Donahue continues to read as she takes a couple steps away to the copier to begin scanning the documents in. "I'm too young to have war stories, and my scars don't need a lot of flashing do they?" Looking back over her shoulder, the tall blond adds, "Thank you for providing me a copy. I appreciate it. Some of these cases, I would actually prefer to discuss in privacy for the confidentiality of the victims. We sometimes have civilians dragged through here for statements."
Special Agent in Charge, Theodore Giordano - Terrorism Task Force and Counter-Terrorism Investigations. Provisional assignment to Prospect City. The paperwork goes on in true Bureau fashion, citing incidents around the Titan Storm and clearance and authorization for numerous provisions of escalation, including the use and cooperation of local law enforcement. Senior Director signature for the TTF as well as the Captain's signature are both present. "Alright.. then I'll see you Thursday at 16:30, Sergeant Donahue, since I require an escort." He takes a moment to consider that and offers, "I can appreciate the need for discretion. Besides, I get the impression talking to your other mode may be better for me."
"There is no 'other' mode at work Special Agent, but welcome to Prospect. I'll see to it you get a desk and if you require it, a secretary.. we're a little short on private offices, but I don't use mine. Just look for the broom closet sandwiched between Interrogation Room Three, and the Evidence Locker." Donahue finishes scanning in the documents, then brings them back to you, in appropriate order, and folded precisely as they were when you handed them to her. Her form is just as fiercely cut as it was when she walked through the front door. Her expression no more congenial. "I'll see to it that Officer Donnachaidh is available to escort you to the range if I'm not available."
Giordano offers, "Well no offense.. despite the view, the atmosphere here is a bit more hostile than I prefer working in. I'll find a coffee shop nearby." Then he turns and starts making his way 'out'? His hands slipping the paperwork back into his inside jacket pocket. The smile from his expression seems to have worn off.
"I hope you won't be using a public wifi signal to make your notes - and I'm afraid I can't authorize the removal of records from the premises." Faith moves to pick up her vest, and pauses with a sigh that's simply exhausted. She doesn't turn back around to watch the man taking his leave, but rather redoubles her efforts at standing up straight then to put the vest back on. "If it helps, I'll be out on patrol again in ten minutes. And my badge number is 1681, you'll need it for the formal grievance. They probably have some pre-filled at the front desk."
The man doesn't actually respond though, instead he makes his way out. He didn't take any case files with him, and he didn't write down the badge number or stop at the front desk. Instead, he just leaves.