Nathan
Allison continues, "Alright, people. For now, we're going to go back to work. Me and an Air Force guy are going to be coming around and talking to each of you on an individual basis, then the Air Force guy will make his decision some time this evening."
Allison smiles cheekily, "Isn't this exciting?"
The group disperses and about an hour later, Nathan finds himself in Allison's office, the "Air Force guy" sitting behind Allison's desk, looking a bit annoyed by the clutter and post-it notes stuck everywhere. Allison is also looking awkward, sitting in the spare chair that usually held a box full of files, which is now at her feet, shoved into the corner.
Major Thomas Truman starts the conversation, "Tell me about yourself, Mr. Abrahms."
Howie
Once the side doors are closed, the rotor noise is lessened to a low roar, enough that the two men can hear eachother without yelling at the top of their lungs, at least.
The lieutenant hands Howie a file and says, "You were picked for this because you're the only person from your last mission that hasn't had a psychotic episode, despite the memory reassignment procedure. We figure that makes you uniquely suited to where we're about to send you."
The file contains rough photos of a military control room of sort, with an image of something humanoid but decidedly not human enhanced to reveal the details of black skin, pointed ears, and white hair on a short lean frame. Behind the alien image is a rectangular metallic doorway of some sort, with an alien vista visible inside it.
The lieutenant extends his hand, "My name is Lieutenant Jameson, by the way. You don't remember me, of course, but its good to see you again."
Connor
Michaels turns to Doctor Wellsly, "I'd like a few minutes alone with Mr. Lang, please."
Wellsly frowns, "I don't approve of this. Connor, if you feel threatened, you just yell, ok? I'll be right over there."
The doctor meanders over to the far doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.
Michaels pulls up a chair and sits across from Connor, "You're right, I have seen your file. Not your incomplete medical file, your real file. The one that's full of juicy illegal activities that you managed to cover up so well the police never suspected a thing.
That file. I also know something else about you. I can sense it, in your mind. Tell me, Connor, when was the last time you moved something with your mind?"
For emphasis, he takes a pen out of his breast pocket and, careful to conceal what he's doing from Wellsly, makes it float just above the surface of his palm.
Max
Dawson responds as the limo pulls into the air base security gate, "We should be there tomorrow afternoon. The aliens didn't stick around long enough for us to study them. We have a close up security camera image of one of them just before they turned out all the lights. We haven't figured out how they did that little trick either. The gate is much more stable now, and, we believe, rigged to only work one way. Our original mistake was creating a two way portal. Now the mechanism works differently. We'll show you when we get there."
The limo pulls past the security gate and starts heading toward the air strip.
Amy
Jackson shrugs, "I really can't reveal any details until you're at the secure facility in the US. Suffice to say that Australila is a very good friend and ally to the United States and we wouldn't want to do anything to jeapordize that relationship."
The UN fellow speaks, a thick German accent making his words difficult to understand, "The United Nations has some concerns over this project and the level of secrecy associated with it. We want to ensure that a proper international presence is maintained. As such, you and other military members from United Nations member countries were carefully selected to serve on this project, albeit under the supervision of the United States."
Hayes stands, "So, Monroe, good luck and show 'em what we're made of." He smiles, "That's an order."
Jackson slides a manilla folder over to Amy, "Your plane tickets and other important papers are all in there. I'll meet you at the airport."
OOC:
Now we can skip ahead a bit to the airport.
