08-28-2014, 08:15 PM
She got straight to the point, which was a refreshing opening to the sorts of meetings he usually had in his office. No trying to butter him up with complements or questions about his family. He sat in silence as she spoke, sipping the coffee she had brought him, frowning as he eyed the cup a moment, wondering just who had brewed it. It was almost passable, at least compared to what was usually found in the break room.
He recognized her name from the case in question; the psychologist assigned to oversee the questioning of the witnesses. "Mr Gregory. I am still trying to figure out how he gave me the slip. I have it on good authority that nob has fled the CCD entirely. The Nobility were always good at saving their own necks."
Nob was a somewhat archaic derogatory term for nobility.
Her revelation of other men like Mr Gregory in Moscow, while not necessarily surprising, was a confirmation that he had been expecting and otherwise dreading. He had already crossed two others in as many months, and had been forced to shoot them both. It was not a trend he was interested in continuing. Even people as dangerous as they deserved proper justice, and he was not an executioner.
He wasn't sure what to make of her claim of 'abilities.' He was a good judge of people, and could read a person well enough. It was only logical that she would be able to do the same, considering her line of work. But she claimed it was something more then mere understanding of tells. Stranger things had become reality in recent years, so why not empaths? Of course, he would require more proof first.
He set his coffee down and leaned forward on his elbows, studying Alex for a long moment. "There is a new task force. It is in it's infancy, and is a pilot project. Officially, it is a new concept task force for anti-terrorism tasks. There will be security checks, and you will be expected to discuss it with no one, for security reasons of course. And it will demand much of your time."
He recognized her name from the case in question; the psychologist assigned to oversee the questioning of the witnesses. "Mr Gregory. I am still trying to figure out how he gave me the slip. I have it on good authority that nob has fled the CCD entirely. The Nobility were always good at saving their own necks."
Nob was a somewhat archaic derogatory term for nobility.
Her revelation of other men like Mr Gregory in Moscow, while not necessarily surprising, was a confirmation that he had been expecting and otherwise dreading. He had already crossed two others in as many months, and had been forced to shoot them both. It was not a trend he was interested in continuing. Even people as dangerous as they deserved proper justice, and he was not an executioner.
He wasn't sure what to make of her claim of 'abilities.' He was a good judge of people, and could read a person well enough. It was only logical that she would be able to do the same, considering her line of work. But she claimed it was something more then mere understanding of tells. Stranger things had become reality in recent years, so why not empaths? Of course, he would require more proof first.
He set his coffee down and leaned forward on his elbows, studying Alex for a long moment. "There is a new task force. It is in it's infancy, and is a pilot project. Officially, it is a new concept task force for anti-terrorism tasks. There will be security checks, and you will be expected to discuss it with no one, for security reasons of course. And it will demand much of your time."