Friends of Humanity: Evidence Needed
Oct. 4th, 2024 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_trance posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsHope recruits some help to get the material to execute her plan.
“Oh hello Quentin. It is good to see you." Hope quietly slipped into his office. "I hope cases were not delayed too much with everyone's trip to Pennsylvania."
A silly thing to say, as Quentin was juggling several tasks to keep on top of things. Literally. Several photos were floating arranged like panels of a comic book to his right, his coffee and half-eaten egg and cheese on croissant to his left, and other miscellaneous forms in front of him. To say nothing of the approximately hundred tabs open on his laptop's browser. Still . . .
"Everything is worth it if I get to make a flatscan's day just a little worse, and we made many flatscans' days much worse." The flurry settled down cleanly onto his desk.
"Reverend Metzger and his church are in big trouble. It will take quite a while to dig himself out of this mess, if he even fully can." Hope agreed. Moving a small pile of paper from one of the chairs to the desk so she could sit down. "I did not know if you had heard."
He nodded, smiling. "Mostly local news, but I set up a Google alert. But I don't suppose that's the end of things, is it? Not with the FOH involved."
"Not yet, no. Links might have been weakened, but I believe the situation requires a more decisive blow." Hope paused, quickly sorting out all the needed facts in her mind. "We have some very strong clues that one of the hidden goals of the FOH was to eventually absorb the resources, knowledge and supporters of each of the groups they worked with. How would you feel about that if you were a smallish anti-mutant organization?"
A hostile takeover of fascist organizations? Bigotry using the tools of everyday capitalism. Quentin would find that kind of funny if it were not so predictable. The Venn diagram of those ideologies really was a circle. So Hope had his full attention.
"What do you need?"
"Evidence." Was Hope's succinct answer. "Preferably evidence that is both nigh impossible to deny and that I am able to reveal in a dramatic way. I was planning to get it straight out of the mouth of one Mr. Graydon Creed." Wrinkling her nose, she added: "In as far as he is deserving of that appellation."
"But we'll need something more substantial and less deniable than possessing him to admit his secrets," Quentin offered, leaning back in his seat as he pondered Hope's request. "Something tangible. Recording of a conversation that he can't dismiss. More physical records, emails, texts."
"I was thinking we do not have to possess Mr. Creed himself. But there might be a suitable flunky out there..." Hope offered the beginning of a suggestion.
"Whom we can bug and direct to Creed. Smart." Quentin grinned. "Get Sue to give you the most unobtrusive recording device she has, then you and I'll hit up a FOH meeting or campaign rally."
Raising an eyebrow, Hope gave him a mischievous grin. "Already prepared. And I have travel arrangements already in place to go to their headquarters, which is where we will most likely find Creed." At his look, her grin widened. "Did you truly expect me not to be prepared?"
He threw up his hands in mocking defeat. "I should have known! All right, let's break some flatscans."
“Oh hello Quentin. It is good to see you." Hope quietly slipped into his office. "I hope cases were not delayed too much with everyone's trip to Pennsylvania."
A silly thing to say, as Quentin was juggling several tasks to keep on top of things. Literally. Several photos were floating arranged like panels of a comic book to his right, his coffee and half-eaten egg and cheese on croissant to his left, and other miscellaneous forms in front of him. To say nothing of the approximately hundred tabs open on his laptop's browser. Still . . .
"Everything is worth it if I get to make a flatscan's day just a little worse, and we made many flatscans' days much worse." The flurry settled down cleanly onto his desk.
"Reverend Metzger and his church are in big trouble. It will take quite a while to dig himself out of this mess, if he even fully can." Hope agreed. Moving a small pile of paper from one of the chairs to the desk so she could sit down. "I did not know if you had heard."
He nodded, smiling. "Mostly local news, but I set up a Google alert. But I don't suppose that's the end of things, is it? Not with the FOH involved."
"Not yet, no. Links might have been weakened, but I believe the situation requires a more decisive blow." Hope paused, quickly sorting out all the needed facts in her mind. "We have some very strong clues that one of the hidden goals of the FOH was to eventually absorb the resources, knowledge and supporters of each of the groups they worked with. How would you feel about that if you were a smallish anti-mutant organization?"
A hostile takeover of fascist organizations? Bigotry using the tools of everyday capitalism. Quentin would find that kind of funny if it were not so predictable. The Venn diagram of those ideologies really was a circle. So Hope had his full attention.
"What do you need?"
"Evidence." Was Hope's succinct answer. "Preferably evidence that is both nigh impossible to deny and that I am able to reveal in a dramatic way. I was planning to get it straight out of the mouth of one Mr. Graydon Creed." Wrinkling her nose, she added: "In as far as he is deserving of that appellation."
"But we'll need something more substantial and less deniable than possessing him to admit his secrets," Quentin offered, leaning back in his seat as he pondered Hope's request. "Something tangible. Recording of a conversation that he can't dismiss. More physical records, emails, texts."
"I was thinking we do not have to possess Mr. Creed himself. But there might be a suitable flunky out there..." Hope offered the beginning of a suggestion.
"Whom we can bug and direct to Creed. Smart." Quentin grinned. "Get Sue to give you the most unobtrusive recording device she has, then you and I'll hit up a FOH meeting or campaign rally."
Raising an eyebrow, Hope gave him a mischievous grin. "Already prepared. And I have travel arrangements already in place to go to their headquarters, which is where we will most likely find Creed." At his look, her grin widened. "Did you truly expect me not to be prepared?"
He threw up his hands in mocking defeat. "I should have known! All right, let's break some flatscans."
