Founded in early 2009 following the vanishing of the wizarding world, this hush-hush group originally sought to find out what happened to avoid facing the same fate but now serves to research ways to safely defend themselves against the likes of magic should the need ever arise.
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by: Kameron Hayes
#13154
Thursday, June 14th, 2012, 7:00am

Kameron took in a deep breath as she opened the door of her car and stepped onto the pavement of the parking garage. She reminded herself that she was ready for this position; after all, Lex had gone over and over the expectations that she would need to be aware of for the last few weeks. She suppose that it was normal to feel nervous upon entering your dream job, especially in a field where she could actually help people.

Kameron clipped her badge on the lapel of her suit jacket, and took the first step into the unknown, and towards the elevator that would carry her up to the level that she needed to be on. She tapped her fingers against her arm and rocked back and forth on her feet as she waited for the elevator to 'ping', signifying that it was ready for her to board. Once the door opened, she slipped inside and shuffled in with all the rest before looking at the buttons along the panel. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips when she realized that someone had already pushed the number that she needed. Everything was going smoothly, she could only hope that the trend would continued through the rest of the day. Once again she heard the 'ping' and she made her way to the front of the elevator so that she could get off before it began it's ascent to the next floor. She made her way to the door, swiping her card before pushing the door open. Today she was not just the intern that ran and fetched coffee for everyone or the one that made copies, today she was suppose to be observing on her first case, and she could not be more thrilled. As she waited for her supervisor to come in, she fidgeted with the button on her jacket, half of the mindset of pacing as she waited, but she knew better than to do that. She did not want to seem overly excited about the situation, even though inside she was jumping up and down on the inside. She needed to keep her cool.
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by: Cole Callaway
#13283
Meanwhile...

Cole had the bagel from the break room pinched between his teeth, and it hang halfway out of his mouth. His hands were full and he needed another method of transport so he didn't have to walk over from his office again. His bones were still healing and the doctors recommended a healthy bit of exercise to help everything get back to normal, but he really didn't want to make the second trip. He passed Randall in the pit and set down a cup of coffee for him, gently patting him on the shoulder with his now-freed hand.

"Thanks, boss." Randall said, making Cole shake his head with a slight smirk. Everyone like bringing up the fact that Cole had become Director just a few days ago, but it wasn't going to stop him from his morning breakfast, his routinely trot from the break room. He was still Cole Callaway, and an agent, just like everyone else. The responsibility, the headaches...everything was still the same.

He made the trek to his office, clutching the front of the bagel and tore off a piece with his teeth, chewing on it as he got situated.

Ahh...Mail. He mused, setting down his cup of office swill in exchange for the envelope. He swallowed down the bite of food and picked up the small parcel from his desk surface. The print was elegant and looked like something printed out with the latest version of office Word--but the ink strokes were made from a brush and ink--this was handwritten. He shook the package near his ear and could hear the shuffling of paper within the cushioned package, as well as a small item inside.

"To the MI:5... Urgent... Care of: Agent Orion Burgess...?" He read aloud. Cole narrowed his eyes. Orion. Why did he get something from Orion? Once upon a time, he'd gotten Schmidt's mail. At some point, someone mistook him for Morgan Jones. Yeah, that newbie in the mailroom didn't last too long did they? At any rate, Cole set down his pastry on a napkin and sighed. Orion wasn't at his desk and this looked important, so he knew he'd have to make a second trip to hunt down the young agent before getting back to his paperwork.
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by: Orion
#17260
"Bum bap di di dah dip deep dah...hah doot doo dah...beep deep dee dee dat dah, dah doot doot doo doo doom..."

Trish hummed not-quite to herself as she shimmied through the alleyways between the cubicles of Five. It was a good morning; her tea was on point, her cat was super cuddly when they woke up, the chapter of the book she was on was super satisfying, and it was going to be a great morning at work.

"Mornin', Cal! You know what today is? It's intern day!"

The doctor smiled at her friend as she passed him, infectious and chipper attitude set to maximum as she blasted him with her early-morning happy vibes. Today was the day she got a fledgling graduate to help her with her casework.
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by: Cole Callaway
#17282
Cole walked down the aisle toward Burgess' desk when he spotted a familiar face heading down the hall. Trish. She was humming to herself, and it was audible even at a distance. What's gotten into her?? He wondered. No one was this perky in the department, at least not with the Hounds, but leave it to Patricia Clark to brighten up the halls with her cheery mood. He gave a thin smile to her as he dropped off the parcel at Burgess' desk and nodded at her when she greeted, raising his eyebrows to her as she announced the special occasion. Intern... Oh... greeeeat... More of them.

Interns were department-wide--no, agency-wide appointments, filling various positions. What that meant to Callaway? More liabilities, more bodies in the building to account for and more new faces to get used to. He'd try to remember names but probably wouldn't interact with too many of them aside from the initial greeting and introductions, but the plus side was? Free labor. "Ah... Sounds like fun." He responded dryly, stopping briefly in case she had anything more to tell him.

(edited last post for timing/context for Callaway's new position.)
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by: Orion Burgess
#17283
Orion's gold eyed flicked up at the new director when he delivered a parcel to his desk. By the looks of the writing on the address, it was from the resistance group that he had been creating tentative contacts with. Nobody really knew about Orion's extracurricular activities. He was in contact with Matt and Cora, for example. He still had ties to the Syndicate. He was reaching out to someone that he was pretty sure was the order. He was a busy, nosy little cat that kept his outside-of-work-life private and separate from his work. And Merlin, what work he had today. He needed to create study packets for the department wizards, write a report on how the training was going, request a practice space for spells and the like, and spreadsheets. He needed to learn spreadsheets. Why? He wasn't sure. It was a very muggle thing and it seemed important to Hilde in the Pit that he learn how to use what she called the 'micro-soft office sweet.' Why muggles created a small, pleasing textured candy for office use only was beyond him. How it involved spreadsheets was still a mystery as well.

"Thank you, Director. Good morning, Doctor. Would you like any tea or coffee this morning?" He made his general offer to the pair as always. Dr. Clark took him up, so he conjured a cup of her favorite chai for her. He then conjured a peppermint for himself. He raised his eyebrow to Callaway with a grin, then turned back to the package. He opened the package and found a disc in its clear plastic case. Without thinking anything of it, he put it into the disc drive of his computer and started the media file playing.

Matt. Oh. Oh, Merlin, this was the preamble to that terrible, terrible...oh.

"Ughh...what...what time...?"

"Five past two."

"Thanks, Jon...sorry...sorry for dropping in unannounced..."


He looked like hell. The wound on the side of his head was cleaned and stitched, not the busted thing Orion had seen. A patch of raw skin showed on his chest. Orion's trained eye saw bruises on Matt's face and hands, a stiffness in his gait as he sat down, and an exhaustion that didn't seem to be sleeplessness.
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by: Cole Callaway
#17703
"Sure. Coffee would be nice, thanks." He thought he might pass today, but given the dryness of the bagel he was consuming, whatever deliciousness Burgess could whip up would help wash it down. However, his mind wouldn't be on the warm cuppa joe if it was conjured in front of him--no. The disc that Orion revealed caught his eye and the media that started on it was deeply concerning.

Narrowing his eyes, Callaway leaned in and looked closer. Bloody...freaking...hell. It was Matt, and he had truly seen better days. Someone had put him through the ringer, and then some, and there was an unfamiliar voice on the backside of the camera. Someone who knew him, it sounded like, by the way he was talking. Was this an interrogation? Did the man behind the lens do this to him? Who sent this to Orion? There were so many questions stirring in the Director's mind, as he stayed quiet, and listened.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here. Devil."

Cal's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach and he softly gasped. Whoever the mystery man was knew Matt's vigilante persona, and the venom behind his tone meant this wasn't going to go in Matt's favor. He gulped. What had he done? He hoped the former agent would have stayed out of trouble since they talked last, but the wounds on him, still fresh though seemingly nursed said otherwise. Callaway knew Matt was a fighter, and whoever he'd gone toe-to-toe with did a number on him. "Shit." Callaway uttered under his breath, though it was fairly audible for his current company.

"I...Jon, what...? I just...I needed help from a friend. I don't...don't have many of those left..."

Jon. That was the man's name. Jon had been mentioned twice, but it wasn't until the 2nd time that Cole caught it and he mentally made a note to search for someone named Jon in the network--even if it wasn't much of a clue. It was such a common name, but he hoped that he'd gather a location, surname or even a face, if 'Jon' happened to stand in front of the camera at some point.

Jesus, Matt... What have you done? It wasn't that Cal blamed him for any of this. In fact, the ill feeling in his gut was mostly comprised of the consequences that were to fall from this--especially if Matt managed to die from all of this stuff he'd been stirring not only as an agent but as his vigilante counterpart. God, he didn't want any of that, he just wanted to make sure he made it out of this alive.
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by: Orion Burgess
#18204
Orion knew how this story ended, and it wasn't happy. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Matt go from point A to point B, but Cole and Doctor Clark probably needed to see it. Well, he'd do what he did best and observe, then. Orion didn't take his eyes off the screen as he flicked his wand, summoning the coffee for Cole. The conversation between Matt and Jon was taking place in a sitting room. A coffee table stood between the two men, empty save for two water glasses and a newspaper.

Two glasses. Had Jon anticipated Matt coming down? If that was the case, the odds were high for the water to be a vehicle for veritaserum. If THAT was the case, then perhaps this video was a forced confession of sorts...The conversation on screen continued, twisting the wizard's stomach in anxiety for his friend.

"They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions...but I'm curious to know...What are yours?"

Despite his courage and bravado, Matt flinched and looked scared when a vicious looking dagger was dropped on the table between the speakers. Orion's knot of anxiety tightened at his friend's expression. That was the reaction of a man who had something to fear. What scared the Devil of London? Despite his fear, Matt stayed put and answered gamely.

"Survival, Jon. I didn't want to die, and I trust you. Was I wrong in thinking I could lean on our friendship when I was in trouble?"

"Friend. You've come to me a few times now, part-dead, half-dead, whatever. Come in off the streets you're supposed to keep safe, and I stitch you up and you're on your way. That's not a friend. That's a service. If you're looking for someone to talk to? I'm not that kind of doctor. How long have you been acquainted with someone
like me, old friend? Hm?"

Matt froze for a moment and then blanched at a realization. The look of worry and submissive fear was so odd to see on the agent. He had been almost fearless, and now he was shrinking like he was scared of getting punished.

"A m-m-month. But the Dark Lady is dead, Jon! And s-service? If I kn-new you f-felt that way, I'd have st-t-opped doing extra n-neighb-borhood watches here. Or g-gone somewhere else..."

Orion sat up when Matt leaned and reached for the water. "..no, no no! That's a trap, Matt!"

But talking to the computer screen couldn't change what had happened. Matt drank the water and swooned, confirming Orion's fears.
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by: Cole Callaway
#18558
Trap... Callaway looked down as Orion reacted to the water that Matt eventually drank, and based on the young agent's utterances, he understood that the water had been in fact drugged by the magical equivalent of truth serum. Matt's answers, though slow and slurred in his grogginess, were forced out as the man who'd been ID'ed as "Jon", as he went on his furious tirade, an interrogation of sorts, that seemed centered around Matt's involvement with Cora. He did however, make a mental note of things like Knight Bus, someone named Maeve who'd apparently helped him get to where they were now, and tried to comprehend the words that followed the line of questioning surrounding the bombing, their involvement with it, and whether or not he felt remorse for those actions. Callaway's eyes flickered.

Sure, he'd told him just the same, under different circumstances--not under duress--that the bombing hadn't been them. It seemed to be too coincidental to accept it, but Callaway was troubled by that answer. There were other things he needed to look into, to find out who did that to headquarters, putting most everyone, including himself, in danger.

The video took a strange turn, when a duo appeared on the scene, attacking Matt. They were definitely not human; Their movements, their strength--the woman in particular--seemed to be in the lead when they burst onto the scene. The two seemed intent on killing him, by the looks of it, horrific monsters mercilessly beating the pulp out of the already broken man.

...

Before any intervention or resolution was seen, the tape abruptly stopped. Cal hit rewind and then let it play through again, in case there was an error, but there wasn't. It just. Stopped. Setting the remote down on the desk, Callaway ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. He needed a hell of a lot of time to process this. He'd just seen Matt a few days ago, after Bashar's funeral, after he had some sort of strange hope that he'd get pardoned for this just because Callaway had taken the helm after Jones' arrest. Now, Callaway didn't even know if he was still alive. The director remained silent.
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by: Orion
#18567
Oh my...

Doctor Clark had gone into a clinical mode as soon as the video took a turn to interrogation. Matt's behavior was all too familiar to the psychiatrist who had supervised enhanced interrogations before. The rictus, discomfort, slurring speech, even the eventual submission to the drug...all of these were tell tale signs of a particularly powerful truth serum. In fact, based off the project files she'd unearthed detailing his capabilities, it had to have been a particularly powerful one even in his beaten down state.

Clark said nothing for the duration of most of the video, choosing instead to stand back with her arms crossed and a scowl across her features as she evaluated what she was seeing. Even at the end and through the replays, she watched impassively. Once Cal was satisfied that there was no more video, she inserted herself between the two men and rewound the disc and payed the ending fight again slowly.

"There. That hit to the temple, see how his face went slack? I'm sorry Cal. I don't know when this video was recorded, but it doesn't bode well...we're probably going to be finding his body in the next few days..."

She didn't miss Orion's tensing next to her. The kid had been close to Matt. Hell, they all were. He'd been polite, charming in his own way, and respectable. If you could deal with his straight laced attitude and unbending scruples, he was actually a really nice guy. And now he was probably dead for real based off that traumatic brain injury he received.

"No. He's not dead."

Orion uttered the smallest voiced argument Clark had thought she'd ever received. What surprised her was the young wizard's absolute iron in the half whisper. He wasn't hopeful, he was certain. Well, grief made people convicted of things that weren't true. The doctor looked over at Cole, seeing if the Director would offer his support and empathy to Orion of if she'd be the one to give the grief counseling.
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by: Cole Callaway
#18683
Mention of finding the man's body, rather than finding him alive somewhere, made Callaway's shoulders sink. He had been rendered speechless by the video itself; hard proof that Matt had been ambushed by someones... or somethings likely from the other world that already knotted his stomach with worry. Cal folded his arms over his chest and brought his hand over his mouth as he contemplated his next words or movement, still stunned by what he'd watched. It was irony, then? That they had a funeral for a man who was allegedly killed, at least in the eyes of the human government for the sake of sparing everyone's sanity. A memorial that had gone over quietly, until the end there, and even then he had no idea how Bauer and Schmidt fared after spotting the mysterious woman and all the sparks.

This was a bloody mess, and to be honest, Callaway was getting sick of how things were, currently. His former boss arrested, his former team disbanded, his own unit now were being held together by tape and glue and whatnot. His sanity sure as hell felt like it was about to fall apart, but he was just going through the motions now.

Clark turning to look at Orion did make him peek up, however, finally moving after becoming a statue of himself. Cal's focus shifted just in time to hear the four words he didn't think would ever be uttered.

Not... dead?

Callaway's steely eyes narrowed as he stared at the young man. He thought he didn't hear him correctly. So he knew something? Much like everyone else in this bloody unit he'd been forced to take over, people were strolling along carrying pockets full of secrets and a shit ton of things he wasn't ready for... but he somewhat believed the kid. Now he had to get to the damn bottom of it before any more spiraled out of control--which might prompt Powell and upper brass to come breathe down his neck again.

With a furrowed brow, Director Callaway stared at Orion, with a glance that demanded an answer. "What did you say?"
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by: Orion Burgess
#18767
Orion looked up from his seat, gold eyes wide and face paler than normal. His pursed lips provided a clue to the racing thoughts behind the otherwise impassive face. How was he supposed to balance his oath as a healer to keep his patient’s secrets but then also provide the information his boss, his patient’s friend, his friend was asking for? Director Callaway deserved to know what happened. Right? There were too many questions and ambiguities in the whole situation and this whole video practically exonerated Matt, if he could just get the Director to understand what they’d just witnessed.

”S-several hours ago, I got a call, Director. Late at night…or-or-or early in the morning…It was dark, and it was an emergency. Matt has-has been attacked by Garou last night.”

He swallowed, dropping his eyes, face masklike and flinty as he tried to stand up for his decision to keep this secret.
”I’m a healer first, a contractor for this office second, but I couldn’t…couldn’t not help. And if I had said anything before this, I was worried that there would be pressure for me to do something other than heal him. I’m still worried about that, sir, if I can be completely honest. He’s alive…but he’s not awake yet…it’s…bad. Real bad.”

He looked back up, worry stark on his face. He didn’t want to be in the corner here of having to choose between office loyalty to the mission he believed in and the work that fulfilled him. He saved lives. He wouldn’t be the instrument of ruining what life Matt had left. But…but. Cole was in a bad way here. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place and he was also Orion’s friend.

”I…I just did what I know how to do, sir. Help people. If you don’t want me going back, I think he’s stable enough, but…but I can help him, Cole…and maybe, me being there…maybe build the ties necessary to convince Cora and Matt to just come back in and reconcile? If that’s possible? I…I just want things to be okay.”

If ever it was apparent that he was still only a teenager, the pleading tone and need for direction highlighted Orion’s youth and relative inexperience.
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