SAC Johnson's office had a brass plaque screwed into place on the door with his name on it. It seemed like it could do with a damn good polishing though.
"Enter!" a man's voice said sharply from the inside. It's a no-nonsense sort of voice, one that's used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Not unusual for a Special Agent in Charge.
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Fletcher opened the door and strode into the office, taking a moment to examine the room before she went to stand before SAC Johnson. How one interacted with their surroundings told many things about a person, and while Beatrix observed his office, the SAC likely took in her appearance. She was dressed professionally in a deep charcoal gray pant-suit with her hair tied back in a bun. Black, laced flats covered her feet, and combined with how she stood, it would be clear to the SAC that Beatrix favored practicality.
"Good morning, SAC Johnson," she began, voice polite and steady. "I'm Special Agent Beatrix Fletcher of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. As I understand it, I'll be acting as an attache for the DHS Geosciences office here in Sacramento. I believe you've already received a letter from my Director explaining that, for all intents and purposes, I'll be under your direction and will aid your department in any matters where you believe my expertise could be valuable. It will be a pleasure working with you."
The office is fairly large, but it's packed with regulation grey filing cabinets. SAC Johnson himself, an almost-grandfatherly looking man, watches Beatrix from behind a worn desk, heaped with case-files. They're clearly in a very sensible order.
SAC Johnson's eyes don't match the rest of his face. They move fast, as if he's assessing every little movement. And they're hard. He doesn't try and hide it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Fletcher. I've been looking forwards to it since your file crossed my desk a few days ago," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. "But files can be misleading. Why don't you tell me about yourself in your own words?"
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"Thank you, sir. I've also found that files can be, well, poor exhibits of a topic, in certain cases. But then again, so can a personal accounting of oneself," Beatrix replied, a small smile forming on her lips. It was very rare, in her experience, for a SAC to form an opinion of an agent from both their file and from interacting with them. Johnson was proving to be far more shrewd than anything she had expected to find in the DHS Geo-sciences division. In fact, it was likely that Johnson had also been transferred as a result of departmental politics and was forced to cool his heels here, no matter how competent. She felt her earlier sense of hopelessness fade away, like mist in burning sunlight, and her postured straightened unconsciously.
"Well, sir, I won't deny that my specialties lie in realm of Homicide and Kidnapping cases. That said, as a Special Agent I posses the standard repertoire which you would expect from any agent; particularly when it comes to examining a crime scene or searching an area for evidence. I meet or exceed all standards and requirements for field aptitude tests and have a further specialty in combating a hostile subject in close quarters..." Fletcher paused, her gaze fixing on an area a few feet above the SAC's head as she thought about what else to say. "Outside of the professional realm I consider myself to be an avid outdoors-woman. I hike often and, in the rare spaces of time that I have off, I like to hunt. I have a dog named Tibbers who also enjoys getting into the wilderness... I, uh, also enjoy reading. I believe it is extremely important to exercise and do so at least three days a week and I don't drink." She cut off again, looking slightly uncomfortable, before nodding and looking back at the SAC. "I believe that's a decently comprehensive list."
SAC Johnson listens, looking at Beatix over the rim of his mug the whole time. In truth, it's like he's trying to look through her, to see what's going on in her head. He taps one finger on the side of the mug for a moment, then nods.
"You seem pretty level-headed, so I'll pay you the courtesy of being blunt. Who did you piss off to end up here?" the older man says.
Roll Wits + Empathy -4
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Beatrix fought the urge to raise an eyebrow and merely studied Johnson's face, looking for any sign of what lay in his thoughts. Nothing could be gleamed from his cool gaze, no matter what she looked for and finally she gave the pursuit up entirely. It wouldn't do well to piss off her new Boss, especially not in an entirely foreign department and jurisdiction, so she gave the most PC answer that she could come up with.
"I don't believe that it was any one person, sir. Like many of my colleagues, I've worked under many Directors but unlike most of my colleagues, I looked beyond what the Directors had to say. The world is not the Bureau, and no matter how easy it is to forget that, it's not something we can afford to do. I got results, but I did so by not always following those certain procedures which had outlived their usefulness. While everything was perfectly legal, it ruffled some feathers. So, like I said, sir, I don't think it was any one person."
SAC Johnson keeps eye-contact for a moment too long, his gaze not flickering from Beatrix's face. Then he nods very slowly.
"I see," he says, with no indication whether what she's said was the right or wrong thing. What is obvious is that he's good at keep all his cues under control. "Well, we have a Missing Person's case I'd like you to consult on, Agent Fletcher. Head down a floor; there's a small office on the right marked 'Dullahan & Derevko.' One of them should be able to brief you."
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Beatrix's gaze didn't waver as the SAC gave his pronouncement but then gave a slight nod as she responded, almost like a predator giving way to the leader of the pack. "Of course, sir, I'll get started on it immediately."
The corners of her mouth twitched as she fought off a smile although her eyes shone with the thrill she felt at getting assigned to a case. The thought of helping solve this Missing Person's was like a sharp breeze early in the morning, carrying the hint of the trials of the coming day, and it banished the pervasive numbness that had been engulfing her like the last traces of a troubled sleep. She would never have thought that the Geo-Sciences division would have been involved with a Missing Person's Case, but she wasn't going to question this opportunity, not while it was still around. After nodding once more she turned to take her leave and find the aforementioned office.
The office is pretty straight-forwards to find. It looks like someone had to kick the lock in recently to make the door open; there's an imprint of the heel of a man's shoe contrasting vividly with the pale plywood and lightweight handle. There's a single flickering bulb set overhead, and the door is ajar. Through the fairly wide crack, a desk with a couple of manilla folders on it can be seen. Seated behind it is a man who wears a suit like it somehow offends him.
He's hideously facially scarred. There's a particularly impressive knotted line down his cheek, which he absently scratches as he turns the pages.
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Beatrix studied the man for a moment, intrigued by his scars rather than horrified. She'd seen worse, much worse, in her line of duty and after only a few seconds she knocked on the door frame. There was no reason to go barging in, even if the door was partially open.
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