RPIV-I Will Do The Damage [Invite]

[Fallon Daugherty]

Nadine Daugherty

The veil of my dreams
deceived all I have seen
Forgive me for what I have been
Forgive me my sins!
-Within Temptation, “The Truth Beneath The Rose”

The halls were unnaturally quiet. Nadine suspected that had something to do with the Moynahan trial. Washington had been obsessed with that trial since the CEO’s presentment. That was all well and good. Not for Moynahan, of course. But there were other matters that needed tending to, and this one merited the President’s undivided attention.

Nadine had found herself drifting since her separation. First, John had refused to work with her, or to have anything to do with her; later, they had settled their differences and tried again, then separated, then tried again. Now, they were separated again, and Nadine had no identity. She was no longer the wife of the airline mastermind, the man who had come out of nowhere to run the nation’s most profitable and safest airline, nor the woman who had graced that man’s arm at every social event, the woman who had been praised for her beauty as much as John had been praised for his business prowess. She was… well, she was no one.

At first, she had tried to attend those social events alone, but there was always that unspoken, untouched subject, “oh, you aren’t with John anymore.” She had been unable to bear it after only a few of those events. She had then tried to use her connections to find herself a place in Washington, and even considered running for office, but many of those connections had been made in bed, and she had somehow lost her taste for that method, and it felt forced rather than adventurous. John had soured all of that for her, she had thought, until she realized that it was she who had poisoned that well, she who had broken up their family, she who had brought on her current position, or lack thereof.

That was past now, though. She had managed to work her way up to a position of relative power in Washington as something of a social informant. She was not the one who had provided the information that had gotten Moynahan arrested, but her job was very similar to that. She listened for things, she observed, and what she saw and heard, she brought to the appropriate parties. Heads of agencies, usually. This one was so sensitive, though, that she felt it necessary to take it directly to President Sawyer.

The President had found himself in an odd situation of late, it seemed. Certain groups were taking matters into their own hands. She was not sure how he felt about any of the things that were happening around the country - the former cholera outbreak that had been resolved by the Kilvayne Corporation, the riots breaking out in various cities, and the famine… ah, the famine. She knew about that, and she knew that Moynahan was going to blow the lid on that very, very soon. What a shame.

However, none of those issues were the one that brought Nadine to President Sawyer’s doorstep that morning. Oh, getting past security was easy; she had a small level of clearance, and from there, she simply used her ability. She had grown cautious about using it since John… but then again, John happened to have an ability that directly opposed hers, and had used his to detect hers. Still… the inclination, and Fallon and her friend’s reactions to that revelation had remained engrained in her mind.

She was dressed simply, elegantly, and expensively, all in clothes she had bought during her marriage to John. She considered those hers, since she had picked them out. The necklace, though… John had bought that for her… for a formal event of some sort that she had long since forgotten about, but the look on his face when he first saw it on her…. She pushed that thought out of her mind as she made her way to the Oval Office.

Nadine had met the President once before, at the ball that had marked his initial rise to his current office. That had been something of a somber occasion, considering just how he had come into that office, but he had been pleasant enough, and had given her the impression that he was a strong leader. She remembered that he and John had gotten along well also. She hoped Sawyer would remember; that would make the conversation that much easier.

She rapped lightly at the door. She assumed, at least, that Sawyer was in the office. From what she had been told on her way through security, the rest of his family was elsewhere. Perhaps he had joined them; perhaps not. She imagined he must be hard at work these days. He had yet to make his stance on any of the current events public; or, at least, if he had, she had missed hearing it. That was entirely possible.

After knocking, she simply folded her hands behind her back. There was little use in announcing herself. He met many people daily; if he recognized her, it would be by face, not by name. But then again, perhaps her husband’s name would be of some weight. She reconsidered that.

“President Sawyer,” she said, projecting her voice but not yelling. “It’s Nadine Daugherty. Security gave me clearance. May I have a moment of your time? I have a pressing concern I think you should know about.”

Outfit

[Ryan D'Alteau]

I have studied Machiavelli, Aristotle, Gabe and Plato.
Yet you still equate my intellect to that of a potato.
This place would fall apart without my ever-watchful eye.
They might tell you I'm a halfwit; it's a great big bloody lie!
______________________________Miracle Of Sound - "Wheatley's Song"

It was hard enough being the President of the United States when the myriad departments under his command were willing to march to the beat of his drum. It was an oft-propogated myth that the President had unassailable control over the running of the country but, much to his hidden chagrin, not everyone agreed with his agenda. With each matter discussed, more and more people were finding themselves blessed with the balls - or the stupidity, depending on the issue - to stand up and vote against him. Ever since the assassination of his predecessor, the issue of specials and what precisely should be done to curtail their thread had been present; brought up by at least one of his staffers or political rivals on a near-daily basis.

What made the issue all the more difficult to solve was that his own daughter, Reggie, was just as gifted - or burdened - as the people many on both sides of the House were insistent on considering enemies of the state. If that particular story was ever broken, even if only to his administration, it had the potential to throw everything he'd done into jeopardy. Some might have seen fit to spin it to make him look like he had been harbouring dangerous individuals during his presidency. It wasn't even true, least of all because his daughter had fallen off the face of the earth for the past few months. Although he had considerable means at his disposal to find her, there was still the issue of those aforementioned means being compelled to ask why.

The protection of himself and his family fell, usually, under the purview of the Secret Service but, with Reggie electing to live away from the White House, there wasn't much they could do besides shadow her from a distance as they often did. Even then, they had managed to lose track of her, just as he had. And, as if the problems with his daughter weren't bad enough, there was the assorted chaos taking place across the country at large. A viral outbreak - of cholera, of all things - had claimed the lives of thousands and, while it had been brought under control and eradicated thanks to the Kilvayne Corporation, it was far from the only issue which was affecting the lives of his fellow Americans.

Riots had broken around in various urban areas across the fifty states. At first, there hadn't been any reason to suspect that the reasons behind them were similar but, as more and more unrest began to make the news, trends and patterns began to reveal themselves amidst the property damage and clashes with law enforcement. But, with the bigger picture being the centre of his attention - as it should have been for any world leader - the biggest problem by far was that of the famine gripping the nation. Somehow, supplies of various staples had been running low. This had been reflected in the scarcity of certain products on store shelves and the relative inability to order more in the quantities required to satisfy demand.

Up to now, President Sawyer and his administration had managed to keep the situation under wraps; a deflection here, a speech here to divert the people's focus and the majority of the citizenry remained none the wiser. Annoyingly, however, the majority of the citizenry seemed to have not included one Christian K. Moynahan. Oh, he knew damn well who he was. The newly-appointed CEO of Ark Industries - a position which, in itself, had attracted highly intelligent businessmen - had managed to spot the nationwide trends himself and join the dots. It was because of his vision - and the fact that he'd somehow obtained classified evidence to support his claim - that he was currently tied up in a controversial court case in Los Angeles.

Despite this, however, he'd heard the murmurings; rumours that Christian had deliberately got himself arrested - after all, he seemed way too smart to get caught - and was going to use the court case as some sort of soapbox to bust the entire issue wide open on a public stage. People in his position a few decades ago would have (allegedly) handed a military sniper a secret mission to have him... dealt with. But this was the twenty-first century; the world of the internet and widespread broadband coverage. It was now much more difficult to both hide and get away with anything.

The Oval Office was where he'd decided to spend the afternoon. Even with the Secret Service agents idling outside, they wouldn't disturb him unless he specifically called for their assistance. It was the closest he could get to solitude these days without arousing suspicion. He wasn't able to just jet off to a secluded cabin in the mountains whenever he felt like it, as much as he would have loved to. The combined stresses of paperwork and the uncertainty surrounding his daughter was making his head hurt. He knew she'd vanished without warning some time ago and, while they may not have been the closest father-and-daughter pair in the world, she at least called him to check in once in a while.

The knocking at the door wasn't entirely welcome, but he tolerated it nontheless. After deeming the interloper's clearance to be sufficient to grant her an audience, the agent posted at the door off to his left had pushed it open for her, leaving her to get the attention of the man inside. "President Sawyer," the woman began, her voice slightly raised. It wasn't his daughter - why would it be? It wasn't as if she came by often without being dragged here - but it was still a distraction. Distractions would suffice. The woman looked somewhat familiar but, until she spoke again, he was having trouble matching her to a name. Was she the wife of someone..? "It's Nadine Daugherty. Security gave me clearance."

"Of course they did." He was far from in the best of moods.

"May I have a moment of your time? I have a pressing concern I think you should know about."

"Yes, of course, Ms. Daugherty," he said, gesturing with one hand to beckon her inside in an attempt to appear more sociable and presidential. "Please, sit down. It sounds like this is gonna be quite the discussion."

[Fallon Daugherty]

Nadine Daugherty

Sunny came home with a list of names
She didn’t believe in transcendence
And it’s time for a few small repairs, she said
Sunny came home with a vengeance
-Shawn Colvin, “Sunny Came Home”

There was hardly a chance that Nadine’s arrival would be of the pleasant sort. Her news was bad enough. The nature of it would surely bring down the President’s mood, regardless of what it was. The best case was that he was cheerful and relaxed, and not burdened by work or responsibility. That would be nice. Nadine did not expect that at all.

She knew the President had been having trouble amongst his own Congress and Cabinet. Among his people as well; his approval rating was low, although as not dismal. Some saw him as a mere figurehead; others saw him as a beacon of light, shining through the hell that was the legislative branch. Others… were simply not paying attention. That could cost them their lives. Some riots and other unfortunate events, although relatively small in scale, were springing up around the country, doing nothing to help matters at all.

Specials and non-Specials had been watching each other carefully for some time now. They seemed to be circling each other as in a boxing ring. The non-specials outnumbered the Specials so greatly that it hardly bore mentioning - but with Specials who could kill a person with a thought, numbers began to mean much less.

When she introduced herself, the President’s reply was somewhat curt, but Nadine had somewhat expected that. She figured no one but his daughter would have met with any other response. The young woman had been found but now hardly spent any time with her father, or with any of her family members. Where she was, no one was quite sure. Despite her contacts, Nadine did not know either. She honestly wished she did, or that the woman would at least stay where she was safe. Washington itself had been a staging point for many of those riots.

She entered the room, and the door was shut behind her. Nadine took a deep breath. The President himself was sitting behind his table, waiting. She had practiced this time and time again, and now the rehearsals were over; this was the real thing. Speaking to the President was daunting enough, in a professional capacity, at least; being on the arm of her husband hardly counted. She had spoken with him at that function, but that had been so long ago, probably before he had been pushed into the Presidency, in fact. Dates and times meant little to her of late.

President Sawyer offered her a seat, and she took one, with a slight nod as he noted the interesting nature of the conversation. “It will be… but in what manner, I guess we’ll have to see.” She crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands, leaning them on her knees, before she remembered herself. Sitting like that had been a habit. It made her look dainty. Nevertheless, she remained in that position. It might be helpful in getting her point across.

“I get the feeling that pleasantries aren’t necessary,” Nadine said a bit slowly. “So we’ll spare those and move to the reason I’m here.” She did take a moment to let that settle in, and also to gather her thoughts. Phrase this the wrong way. and it might not work.

“I’m sure that, even in all the madness here on our own turf, you and our allies have been keeping an eye on the Dominion of Jamaica.” What had formerly been simply “Jamaica” was now a small empire, composed of all of the islands in the Caribbean that were not already run by another country, such as Puerto Rico or the U.S. and British Virgin Islands. Their rulers had kept the name of the original and their ancestral island, probably out of duty, Nadine figured, or to make a point.

“The Johessmans have been taking each country peaceably, by who knows what methods. But lately, with all the militaries they have collected, they have begun to turn their trade towards war.” She leaned forward, her hands flat on the table, the lean extending her already plunging neckline. There was no one else in the room, but there was a need for subtlety. This worked best when one felt a sense of urgency, an action that needed addressing, and, moreover - fortunately for her - a woman in dire need of assistance.

She was easing her ability into her words. This was something she had become quite skillful at, having using it on John more than several times during their marriage. The deception was the finest of tools when it was built upon, not when it was used bluntly. It needed subtleties.

“I have eyes and ears all over the world, Mr. President, including within the Dominion. I like to make myself useful. And I know what the Johessmans’ next plans are.”

She shifted the full breadth of her ability into place.

“They plan to take control of the Panama Canal.”

[Ryan D'Alteau]

!
______________________________- ""

"I get the feeling that pleasantries aren't necessary." Normally, when faced with someone vaguely familiar, the President would have at least tried to make an effort to sift through his cluttered brain in search of their identity. He prided himself on being good with faces; to be able to match a previously encountered visage with a name he'd been given. He was certain he'd heard the name Nadine Daugherty before; had it drummed into him at some function or another, but as for where and when? He wasn't sure. "So we'll spare those and move to the reason I'm here." She was being methodical - perhaps due to nerves - but she was also quick to get down to the important points. If only more of his administration were like her, he thought.

"Go on." With the chaos gripping the nation right now, specificity was paramount. It was all well and good having a reason to be somewhere or an agenda to work on but, until Nadine actually told him just why the hell she was here, there was nothing he could really do other than sit in the Oval Office, stare across the desk at her and feel stressed. His predecessor had been better at this sort of thing. "I'm sure that, even in all the madness here on our own turf, you and our allies have been keeping an eye on the Dominion of Jamaica." Ugh, how could he forget? Predating the latest epidemic of riots, unrest had flared up in the island nation and, without adequate measures to contain it, the unrest had spiralled so far out of control that the instigators - members of the Johessman family - had managed to overthrow both it and the neighbouring islands and seize them for themselves. They weren't just businessmen and women anymore.

They were rulers. "Of course. We may not be perfect, but I think even we'd be able to notice when someone takes over the whole damn Caribbean." They may not have had access to long range missle launching systems - that he knew about - but the fact that one family now controlled almost every single sovereign island in the Caribbean Sea and had a main base of operations just under two hundred miles of the American mainland made the situation slightly reminiscent of the Cuban crisis in the sixties. Many of the islands of which they'd taken control had either some sort of standing military or an organised group - usually a police force - which could be repurposed into one.

"The Johessmans have been taking each country peaceable, by who knows what methods," Nadine continued. That particular point had piqued his interest somewhat. As far as he knew, the Johessmans had been a normal family, comprising of owners of various businesses and paragons of various professions. Unless they had kept an ace firmly up their collective sleeve this whole time, he had no idea just how the family could have taken over anything as large as a whole country, let alone doing so without unnecessary bloodshed. "But lately, with all the militaries they have collected, they have begun to turn their trade towards war."

Although they didn't have the sheer manpower to be comparable to the might of the United States' military, their recent actions certainly suggested that they had more than a little bit of strategic acumen amongst them. "I might be the President," he sighed. Solving a problem wasn't as simple as pressing a button or snapping his fingers. If that were the case, then his daughter would have been in the next room. "But, without any word on what they're gonna do with those militaries, there isn't much I can do. I can't just call up the Air Force and have them carpet bomb the Caribbean. I need specifics, Ms. Daugherty."

It just so happened that specifics was precisely what Nadine had brought with her. Of course, Nadine had her own motives in mind. The President had said nothing about the specifics he wanted being true. "I have eyes and ears all over the world, Mr. President, including within the Dominion. I like to make myself useful. And I know what the Johessmans' next plans are." She wasn't just an ordinary woman, either. She was a special. A special who had the capability to mislead and deceive others. She could make people believe just about anything she wished, provided she did so correctly. And here she was, in the same room as the most powerful man on the planet. With about as much innocence as a child amidst a crowd of nuns, she was grasping the strings of the man across from her and, for a fleeting moment, using him for her own ends. "They plan to take control of the Panama Canal."

The Panama Canal was quite the significant fixture in Central America. Although somewhat precarious, the stretch of water scythed its way straight through the otherwise uninterrupted landmass from Colon to Balboa. By taking control of it, it would be far easier for the Johessmans to obtain supplies from the Pacific coastline. As soon as boats crossed south of San Diego, there would be very little the US could really do to stop them. Unless, of course, they had actionable evidence with which to thwart this little scheme. That is, of course, if the scheme even existed. The President, however, was falling for it completely. Why wouldn't he? It sounded so plausible. It might have taken them longer, but the best way to get supplies out to the Johessmans would be to sneak them out by sea. "And you're certain about this?", he asked. Already, his itinerary for the near future was forming. Meetings needed to be called, deployments needed to be finalised, research needed to be done. But, finally, he had something he could use to stop the Johessmans' little power trip. "They're going to take the Panama Canal to gain access to the Pacific coast?"

[Fallon Daugherty]

Nadine Daugherty

Oh you sad one
Playing the angel
Isn’t so easy where you’re from
-Depeche Mode, “The Darkest Star”

The difficult part had passed, but Nadine’s work was far from over. President Sawyer had fallen for her ruse. However, he was an intelligent man; her words would not be enough to make her words a certainty. She needed something that could stand as proof.

She had prepared for that, of course. She had prepared for many scenarios. Most of them required proof, and she had that much in her thin briefcase. An earnest frown had developed on her lips, and she nodded solemnly as the President inquired about her sureness of this plot. “I am one hundred percent sure, Mr. President. The word from my sources, however, is not simply to gain access to the Pacific, but to control the Canal as a shipping route.”

She placed the briefcase on her lap. “Imagine what the Johessmans could do with a resource like that. Not only could they move themselves into the Pacific, but they could do what they wanted with those ships that pass through as it is. They could raise the tolls - or lower them for favors, both of which my contact has provided proof of, and what the sources here say.” She took out a set of papers and handed them to the President. These were, of course, forgeries, but they were such good forgeries that Nadine would have believed it herself.

“They thought they were communicating on a secure line, and they were. The problem for them was that one of the advisors on the line was one of my informants.” She gave the President a wan smile. “These are emails among the Johessmans and their tight circle of advisors. They detail the plans, their schedule, and the plans they have. It’s just as you said, plans t o begin conquest of the Pacific, but also to control traffic and control the fees they make, most of which would go into their own pockets. The Panama Canal Authority would become nothing but a figure head, if that.”

She closed the briefcase, allowing the President to keep the papers. “This is what they’ve been preparing for, I suspect. The other islands they’ve captured have few uses for them - aside from people. They could used those defense forces and attempt to rip control from the Authority’s hands. Or they could do it quietly, as they have before. The emails suggest the former.” She sighed and sat back in the chair. “I hate to be the bearer of bad new, especially in times like these. But I felt this needed to be addressed quickly, far ahead of its execution.”

She watched the President closely, just to be sure that her deception had gone over as she needed it to. This had to work out perfectly for all of the pieces to fall into their spaces perfectly.

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Eternalised, objectified! You set your sights so high!
But this is beginning to feel like the bolt busted loose from the lever!
Never mind, Death Professor! Your structure's fine, my dust is better!
Your victim flies so high, all to catch a bird's eye view of who's next.
______________________________TV On The Radio - "DLZ"

"I am one hundred percent sure, Mr. President," As Nadine spoke, she continued to weave her subtle deception. Utilising her ability and her political savvy in equal amounts, she was hoping to steer President Sawyer along the road she and her conspirators needed him to travel. If he reached the end of this meeting doubting her in some way, then they would be beset by one setback after the other. Suffice to say, it would have been less than ideal. "The word from my sources, however, is not simply to gain access to the Pacific, but to control the Canal as a shipping route." She was to make the situation sound bad, without having it appear unbelievable; a delicate balancing act to be sure.

But one it seemed in which she was currently succeeding. Sliding his eyes shut for a moment, the most powerful man in the land - politically, at least - began to think once more. This was far from the time to act rashly. He needed to plan things out; to send all the relevant orders through the proper channels so that the situation with the Johessmans wouldn't descend into all-out civil war. "And with the Panama Canal in their control, they're going to be putting our efforts - retaliatory or otherwise - at a serious disadvantage. At best, we're looking at delays throughout the bases along the Pacific. At worst, the readily available forces and aid would be without backup and understaffed, possibly scuppering us completely."

"Imagine what the Johessmans could do with a resource like that," Nadine continued, reiterating the previous point. Without free access to the Panama Canal, diversions would add days, if not weeks onto any naval journey from the Pacific coast to the Caribbean. It must have been precisely what the Johessmans were banking on, he thought. He would have to find a way to play around their little blockade. "Not only could they move themselves into the Pacific, but they could do what they wanted with those ships that pass through as it is. They could raise the tolls - or lower them for favours, both of which my contact has provided proof of, and what the sources here say."

"They could just as easily declare the Canal a no-go zone for anyone outside their little menagerie, Ms. Daugherty," Philip grumbled sternly, taking the set of papers from his guest. They were forgeries; meticulously crafted fakes which held no real power in the legal or any other arena. Unfortunately, the woman sitting across from him was the only person in the building privy to this particular fact. He saw no reason not to take the reports at face value. "You said that they'd taken their new territory by peaceful methods, but there's nothing stopping them from using their new resources to blockade the Canal completely, barring us entry while they come and go as they please. It'd certainly suit them, if all this intelligence is accurate. Speaking of which, how did you get all this?"

As she had done since walking through the door of the Oval Office, Nadine had an answer for everything. Philip was playing right into her hands without even realising it and, from there, she could easily field his inquiries. "They thought they were communicating on a secure line," she explained, a knowing smile gradually making itself known on her face. "And they were. The problem for them was that one of the advisors on the line was one of my informants. These are emails among the Johessmans and their tight circle of advisors. They detail the plans, their schedule and the plans they have. It's just as you said, plans to begin conquest of the Pacific, but also to control traffic and control the fees they make, most of which would go into their own pockets. The Panama Canal Authority would become nothing but a figurehead, if that."

If there was some hope to be entertained here, Philip pondered to himself, then it was the fact that everything Nadine was saying had been in the future tense. The Panama Canal wasn't in their hands quite yet. The Johessmans weren't controlling the stretch of water, nor were they ramping up the toll prices for their own nefarious ends. They were, he hoped, still busy with clamping down their authority on the islands they'd captured and too distracted to mount this particular plan of theirs. The advantage, as much as they wouldn't have cared to admit it, was currently his. There was every chance he could have forces sent to reinforce the Canal and its Authority in a pre-emptive fashion and stop the Johessmans obtaining this next foothold on their substantial list.

According to Nadine, the Canal was what the Johessmans were preparing for and, according to her network of spies - which was essentially what her implanted advisors were - they were debating which approach to take. Quietly, just as they'd done with the islands, or with a resounding show of force, utilising the defence forces of the islands they'd taken as a makeshift standing army. Adding to his unease at this whole prospect, the show of force was apparently what they were planning to do, which made his own counteractions all the more urgent. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially in times like these. But I felt this needed to be addressed quickly, far ahead of its execution."

"And it will, I assure you." To him, everything Nadine had said and shown him seemed to ring true. He'd already heard murmurings around the Caribbean concerning Dakari Johessman's so-called Dominion; a wide-ranging faux nation state of sorts which had stemmed from an armed rebellion on Jamaica and spread almost like a contagion of alternative thought across many of the populated Caribbean isles. He was already dead set on refusing to put up with her antics and this went well towards breaking the backs of many a proverbial camel. "Whether peacefully or otherwise, what the Johessmans have done is stage one invasion after another. Who knows how many steps shy they are from trying their luck with the US mainland? They've obviously got some sort of agenda running here and, whatever it is, it's my duty to put an end to it. And I will put an end to it. Whether she's doing this to rail against the cholera outbreak, the riots or whatever the hell else is irrelevant. It stops here."