3897/'Internal' Affairs

'Internal' Affairs
Date of Scene:	17 February 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Lex Luthor, Film Freak

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Lex Luthor has posed:
The invitation was sent earlier this week to the handler; three days from now, at night. A warehouse tagged as LexCorp property. Lucrative, non-violent contract for 'legitimate' business.

Come alone, or not at all.

The invitation was anonymous. Burt would be smart enough about this sort of thing probably to realize this is for both their protection, and that this is most likely a LexCorp contract. Which means Burt will almost certainly be meeting Mercy or Hope as a proxy for the Man of Tomorrow.

Assuming Film Freak accepts, the night-time warehouse looks entirely abandoned from the outside, the river air masking any sort of smell to say otherwise.

There is an obvious main entryway river side, at least.

Film Freak has posed:
Wearing a black motorcycle helmet and motorcycle leathers, Burt Weston cruises up the river in the solitary night, a single light illuminating his path as his Indian quietly revs along.

He reaches the location of the meet and cuts the engine, climbing off and pulling his helmet off. He runs a hand through his shock of black hair and places the helmet on the head of his bike, before unzipping his jacket as he ambles inside.

He pulls his v-neck collar's wide flaps, ducking his head as he flips from the inner world of Burt Weston into the considerations and shapes of Edison, a large Colt .45 six shooter strapped to his thigh on a leather holster.

He looks about with a supressed grin, his mouth firmly shut but slightly crooked, cheeks flexing into dimples.

Lex Luthor has posed:
The approach is unremarkable. The warehouse still looks abandoned.

Then, the main entry starts to slide open, without a sound. If it was actually abandoned, that door would be shrieking blood murder from rust. The abandonment, apparently, is just for show.

Going inside, the LexCorp warehouse actually looks half full. Then, a set of lights turns on, one at a time... culminating in showing a path to a powered elevator.

Looks like Burt is going down.

Film Freak has posed:
Edison looks upwards, first to the right, then around to the left, as he walks along, motorcycle boots raking their heels over the weathered floor.

His lips part at the show of the lights, and he moves along into the elevator, showing his capped teeth in a grin.

He turns about and stands facing the elevator door, chin tilted upwards as he slides on his sunglasses.

Lex Luthor has posed:
Going down, one could be easily forgiven for thinking this warehouse was a front, because it is. The grating on the elevator is much shinier compared to the warehouse proper... and it takes about a minute for the elevator to finish going down.

Once down, the doors open... and a fairly well equipped lounge and bar, along with a small security hub, are visible. Along with a blonde in a business suit.

"Mr. Luthor is waiting, this way please." A pleasant soprano gives from the woman, as she gestures to a chair in front of a monitor.

Film Freak has posed:
There's a certain James Dean slide to Edison's hips as he strolls out of the elevator, looking at the woman with a muted smile of cocky appraisal. "I aim and endeavor, to do others the most pleasure," he says with a theater lilt.

Edison moves to the chair before the monitor and takes a seat with a heavy, playful weight, before he slaps his arms up on the rests and leans back. He keeps his sunglasses on, his grin fading into a polite smile.

Lex Luthor has posed:
"Mr. Edison." The monitor turns blank, but the audio is clear... and the voice is clearly Lex Luthor. Mercy stands off to one side, watching. "I'm told you have a talent for espionage."

Film Freak has posed:
"Talent?" Edison steeples his fingers, the sort of bounce steeple that indicates a playful consideration of the question. "It's more of a utility. I'm not a spy by training, but by trade."

His fingers part, and his hands return to the chair's arms. "That's why I'm a unique proposition as a hire."

Lex Luthor has posed:
"I have need of... some internal checkups on a subsidiary. There is something odd about their reports, and I don't want to show my hand." Luthor observes, before he pauses a moment, "Mercy, show him the folder." Mercy immediately plops a vanilla folder of documents in front of Film Freak

"That will have all the relevant data to make your infiltration successful. I want a report on what their research labs are doing, and who their department heads are talking to, then the general staff. Consider this a long term contract." Luthor notes.

Film Freak has posed:
Edison leans forward and picks up the folder, fingering through it. "Paging Doctor John Dorian," is all Edison can say as he leafs through the folder, examining the notations.

"I'll need an identification badge and database profile as a hygiene officer. Medical diploma, somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic, no military background, that's a spook siren. Pick a name with a cultural intonation that sounds German, I'm part Crow native, we look German sometimes," he says, before closing the folder.

"It will be a relatively easy mission. I'll ask for three thousand dollars."

Lex Luthor has posed:
"Do you have any actual medical history?" Luthor asks, apparently, of curiosity. "Mercy, go and see if their CEO has job openings fitting his description, or if I'll need to do a transfer by executive order." Mercy heads over to one of the computer terminals to comply.

"Done." Luthor gives in reply. Normally Luthor doesn't take on new contractors for that much... but the man has a reputation in Gotham, and he'll be considering this as a trial job to see what Burt can do, "Mercy can handle all your arrangements from here. The subsidiary is working in biotech; very complicated biotech. I don't need you to understand a thing about their work, but I do need copies of all their latest research."

Then, a pause, "And just so I am clear; this research is secretive and not to be discussed outside this room, or the subsidiary itself. If any copies of my research get into the black market, I'll know precisely who to blame, and I will put an end to your career. In more ways than one."

Film Freak has posed:
"The hygiene officer is actually the equivalent to an office efficiency expert," Edison explains, crossing his legs formally. "I'd be evaluating psychiatric profiles and looking through databanks for human resources. Technically speaking, I should be looking for mental health flaws in a worker or two."

Edison looks over at Mercy, pointing, then back at the screen with Lex.

"See the database verification? Just inform them that there's been oversights in database transactions, and that they suspect a member of the staff is developing an epileptic condition from workplace stress due to genetic factors. I'll go in, talk to people to determine the office relations, look through the data records and psych records while I pull your research records, and then I'll hang around the computer analysts while they do an engineering check on the systems to see if it was a computer malfunction, as opposed to a staffer going through petit mals seizures while reviewing data and missing figures. Schmooze 'em, they feel happy, I leave."

"You send me in, I spend a while doing my job, take my time, I work down the chain, then I leave. The department heads think their job is on the line because of an internal defect, I get access to the computer banks looking at data logs with an access command, then I talk to the computer geeks like I'm a college jock and give them a few unethical acting tricks to spice up their dating chances."

He uncrosses his legs. "Piece of cake."

Lex Luthor has posed:
"I gathered that what you were considering with your requests." Luthor notes, before the monitor flashes on, and a picture of the front of 'Symattec Biotechnologies' appears, "The CEO is brilliant compared to most, but has no real knack for vetting his people. Your first priority will be to check into him on arrival and give me a report on all documents and databases on his personal PC. He should also have a private laptop in a drawer; send the contents of both to me, then wait for the go ahead for the rest. He may or may not be brought into this as your on site handler, depending on what I find. Any questions?" Lex asks.

Film Freak has posed:
"No sir," comes a downshift in Edison's voice, as his head tilts forward and he takes on the look of a Hollywood Jewish cowboy, nebbish and unsure but serpentine, drawing on Sam Rockwell's character of Charles Hirsch Barris from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. His left arm hangs over the edge of the arm rest, thumb rubbing beneath his shifting fore and middle fingers, as he ever so faintly pouts. He's Film Freak now.

"I'll need the proper electronic device compatible with what is no doubt customized technology. I'll provide my own field transmitter, I'll have the amplifier unit rigged up beneath the window on his side of the complex, with the satellite modem in a nearby ditch car. Garden crew scrubs ought to let me plant the amplifier for my encryption signal to hit to the ditched car's satellite beacon."

"Time table is your decision."

Lex Luthor has posed:
"Have Mercy inspect the field transmitter. The rest is yours." Luthor gives in reply. "There is no timetable on the general company... but I will expect your CEO report by the end of your first week." Luthor then pauses, and the elevator behind Burt opens. "We'll be in touch."