gotthestory (![]() ![]() @ 2009-04-13 09:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | graham, graham and sean, sean |
Who: Graham, Sean
When: 10:35 AM
Where: Cyamites
Graham Shepherd thought the only thing worse than not having communication to get his story out was not having communication so he could call Katie. He hadn’t been able to wish her a proper Happy New Year, and now she might think he was forgetting her.
For now he dealt with his frustration by throwing himself into further frustration. Trying to talk to any of the senior staff on this ship was akin to trying to get an exclusive with the president. Ships security and crew were all conspiring to keep them in seclusion. Good press they’d been available for, however it was amazing howa fast people disappeared at the first signs of actual trouble. He needed more leverage. Some way to get past that invisible wall the crew had formed. And there was the answer sitting at a table at Cyamites looking off into space in the middle of a good brood. Shame to interrupt a good brood. He’d had a few of them, himself. But things needed to be done, after all.
He pulled out the chair across from the man in question. Good Lord, was that his real hair color? Eyebrows were a bit darker, but that didn’t mean… Oh, he was being pinned by a laser like pair of eyes. Made the back of his neck prickle, but no time for unease.
“Hallo, I’m Graham Shepherd,” he held out his hand as he took the seat without invitation.
“I know who you are. I don’t talk to the press.” Sean Flynn was certainly the surly sort. And here his niece seemed to think the world of him. She’d also hinted at a dislike and distrust of journalists due to past bad experience. Right, had to circumvent that.
“Not looking for an interview, here. I’m looking for some intelligent and determined curiosity. I figured an FBI agent wouldn’t be too happy with the general answers the passengers have been given.” Direct approach was best. This type of fellow was used to misdirection and lies. Half truths wouldn’t fly.
All Graham got for his effort was a head tilt and the view of a man taking a drink from his coffee. No comment, just a challenging look. Oh well, confrontation wouldn’t do any good when you were looking for cooperation, now did it?
“Come on, a dozen people just up and disappear? I admit, this is a big ship, and running at far under capacity, but unless they all decided to play a twisted game of ‘hide and seek’, what happened? They didn’t all fall overboard.” Graham paused, the tip of his tongue poking a bit at the middle of his upper lip. No reaction. Damn. He decided to continue. “A storm like that, even if they all got into some sort of argument, or horrible news, that rain hit like buckshot. The ship was already swaying before the concerts. Only a suicidal masochist would go outside. Might have one on board, but a dozen?”
“What do you want, Shepherd?” The man across of his tried to arch a brow. Unfortunately the brow in question had a nasty looking stitched cut through it, and was a bit swollen. The momentary wince of pain and sudden abortion of the expression drew a sympathetic wince from Graham.
“A partnership.” Graham lay it out on the table. “You know how to ask questions and dig for answers. You also have clout. I also know how to dig and ask questions. The crew is resisting every attempt to ask questions of the command. Why is that? Half the staff and crew haven’t a clue what’s going on, but more than a few of them are scared. We might get some help from them if they’re looking for answers as well.
“Sounds like you got it all figured out. You hardly need me.” Agent Flynn continued on with his coffee.
“But I do. Different tactics. Different angle. We go at them from two directions but with a united front. The question is, does your distaste for my chosen profession outweigh your need for answers? Does pride count more than knowledge?” Graham gave a small smile.