InsaneJournal

Interrogation
Maureen forgot to mention the in-depth investigation part of things. All Jill wanted was access to the government's complete file on Lincoln Park, something beyond what CNN and The New York Times liked to shove down everyone's throat, even more than a year after the fact. If the Federal Bureau of Investigation wanted Jill to take a more active role in the investigation and monitoring of the quarantine area, the agent was going to need access to everything.

Which was what eventually led Jill to this dark room, where she sat in a cold, uncomfortable metal chair. Nodes were attached to her forehead, with cords running from the nodes to all sorts of electronic equipment and computers the agent had never seen. Best Jill could tell, the machinery was some super-advanced form of a polygraph, and as she sat and awaited this most recent line of questioning, Jill felt like this was needless and excessive. She'd already proven her worth as an agent; why go through all this just to upgrade her security clearance level?

She'd never met the woman sitting by the computer monitor, scratching her chin and holding a pencil inches from a pad of paper. She showed no emotion, which when combined with the lack of aesthetics in the room made the agent really uncomfortable. It almost felt like she was being interrogated over a crime, not questioned to determine whether she could be trusted with government intel.

Either way, the sooner this ended, the better. This was the side of government life Jill really hated.

The agent's name was Miranda Guitterez, and she'd been assigned to this interview as a test of her abilities as a Q and A expert. Miranda was from Arizona, and she'd been part of the FBI for four years since graduating the University of Texas, where she majored in criminal justice and forensic investigation. She had prepared carefully for this session, reading up on the other woman's file thoroughly the night before. Supposedly Andersen was a tough nut to crack, a seasoned attorney and the newest addition to the Bureau. To tell the truth, she was a little intimidated.

Nevertheless, her tone was cool and professional when she said, "Good morning, Agent Andersen, hope I didn't keep you waiting very long. I was in a brief conference with my superiors. Glad to see you were able to find the office without much trouble."

She placed her briefcase on the plain white table in front of her, unlatched it to remove the thick folder inside. "We'll get right to the important things, since clearly this is the last hurdle," she said, seating herself opposite from the brunette. "Normally we'd have a stenographer to take notes, make sure nothing falls by the wayside, but I didn't think it was necessary. I've got a really good memory." Miranda chuckled a little, then turned serious again. Intimidated or not, this was her job and she was going to give it proper attention.

"Have you ever conspired, either alone or with other parties, against the government of the United States?"

Well, getting right down to the nitty-gritty, wasn't she? Jill nearly made some crack about all the wires sticking from her forehead, keeping her hooked up to machines designed to measure her heart rate, brain waves, perspiration and possibly even her libido to determine whether she was lying. But the gusto with which the other woman -- who never even bothered to introduce herself to the agent -- asked this question told Jill she was probably new. Wanting to make a good impression to the bosses.

Though Jill had a feeling this question would've been important before Uncle Sam decided she deserved a federal badge. Seriously, Jill was already a Special Agent in the FBI -- if she'd really been that anti-American, wouldn't the red flag have waved even before she signed on for Project Integration?

But, in the sense of cooperation, and realizing her answers very well could determine whether her security clearance reached TC/SCI status, Jill figured she'd answer the question honestly.

"Not unless you count my former employer," she said, trying to keep her tone even. "Wolfram & Hart had an interest in the eventual decay and destruction of the world, but the firm never actually targeted the United States -- at least, not to my knowledge. The late Agent Markowitz betrayed his country more than I ever have."

"Mmm." Agent Guitterez's mouth turned down at the corners, and she shuffled the contents of the folder a little officiously. Josiah Markowitz was still a thorn in the side of the intelligence community, and his death had made him a cult figure among conspiracy theorists across the country, especially among the bloggers who posted their anti-government spleen on the internet. One downside to free speech meant it was free to everyone, at least supposedly.

"I've been going over some of your past associations," she continued, speaking over the crinkle of white sheets of paper. "Outside of your professional life, that is, on more personal terms. Have you had any contact with Victoria Foxworth since arriving in Chicago? I understand the two of you were ..." How to put this delicately? Miranda pursed her lips as she thought it over, then settled on the word, "... acquainted. Has that association come to an end?"

The agent actually felt her gaze narrow. The question shouldn't have surprised her -- this was, after all, the federal government, and all the intelligence agencies out there were bound to dig up literally everything in Jill's life. She wouldn't be surprised if this little tart sitting across from her knew what she had for lunch on January 4, 1998. Hell, even Jill herself couldn't remember that.

So, personal associations, eh? That was going to make this interview even more interesting, and by interesting, Jill figured it would take on the tone of a root canal, and her answers would likely be the FBI's way of deciding not to grant her the necessary clearance and call her past associations "an example of historically bad judgement," or some shit like that.

Still, the question needed to be answered. Pleading the fifth in this instance would be even worse.

"It has," Jill said. "We said our goodbyes before I left Nevada." It was the truth; Jill wasn't lying in leaving out the night she let Victoria crash in her apartment. It wasn't lying if the agent never even said anything about it. "We were ... romantic for a bit, when I was still at Wolfram & Hart. The demands of my job, and the fact that she disagreed with my joining up with Project Integration, led to a parting of ways."

"You were bound to her." The other agent's tone had become more querulous, and she made eye contact with a determination that surprised her a bit. The thought of it was distasteful to her; she couldn't imagine willingly doing anything with a member of the undead, and the idea that Agent Andersen had apparently wanted to be a vampire at one point gave her a bit of pause.

"You don't have any intention of seeking out that sort of thing again?" she asked. "Are there any lingering physical problems from it?"

"No, those days are behind me," the agent answered. "As for the physical problems -- in the immediate aftermath, it wasn't terribly unlike withdrawals when you're trying to kick heroin or something. I haven't had any ill effects since -- you can check the file on my physical when I enrolled in Quantico if you'd like."

"All right, that's good to know." She might double check the physical results just in case, but that would be a formality.

"What about Oliver Jerzyck?" More papers rustled as Miranda looked over the relavant information, then added, "You were also involved with him during your time in Nevada, and we're aware he's in Chicago trying to get a business off the ground. Has there been contact with him?"

There was a pause, and the other agent said, "He was, as I'm sure you're aware, detained by the government during Project Integration, and while he's no longer under any sort of suspicion, for a while he was what's known as a person of interest. Is there a current relationship with Mr. Jerzyck?"

"There is not," Jill said, trying to mask a certain disappointment in her voice. "We ran into each other once since I moved here, and he said we could try being friends, but I could tell he didn't mean it. Our relationship was ... complicated. Lots of issues on both sides, and he hated my work. And I know the government had him -- I was the one who demanded he get medical attention when I saw him all groggy and concussed in his cell."

She never had any way of knowing who gave Oliver that beating, but based on what became of Project Integration, Jill had a theory it was agents. That pissed her off beyond words, because even with all the baggage and history between them, she still cared about Oliver.

"You can go through every single association I had when I was at Wolfram & Hart," the agent added, "but they're all dead ends."

Agent Guitterez flipped through some more of the file's contents, considering what angle to take next. So far Andersen had proven cool under fire, and that was a good sign, but with a history like hers, there were always going to be questions, especially with the security clearance she wanted.
"It says here that you were the arresting agent when Dylan Coker was apprehended," she told the other woman, indicating one of the papers she'd uncovered. "And that an issue arose out of it because you represented him as legal counsel when you still worked for Wolfram and Hart. Is that correct? Did you know about the conflict of interest beforehand?"

A further scan caused the other agent to raise an eyebrow. "It also says that he is still represented by the firm, and that his attorney is Elise Shelby. Facing one of your former colleagues as opposing counsel, that must be tough. Have you run into any issues because of it?"

She wanted to laugh, really, Jill did. But she didn't, taking a breath to compose herself before addressing the question at hand. She'd forgotten about Coker, since she was no longer on that case, and she found it interesting that whoever was in charge of this agent had given her outdated intelligence. The agent quirked her brow at that thought, cocking her head to the left and chewing on her bottom lip.

That was an interesting little tidbit.

"Afraid you're working off an old file," she answered. "I wasn't Dylan's arresting officer -- he was already in custody by the time I saw him in the interrogation room. And once the conflict was made apparent, not to mention the fact that Ms. Shelby was ready to use that to keep Coker out of court, I removed myself from the case. Agent Flores is now in charge of that investigation."

There was a silence while Miranda re-chcked her papers, and then the agent said, "You have to understand, Agent Andersen, you were an unknown quantity when you first joined the Bureau. Taken in full, your file would have been enough to get you convicted of several murders and sentenced to prison for quite a long time, to say nothing of various and sundry other crimes while you were employed by your former firm. If any of these questions seem intrusive or rude, it's important to remember that we're just trying to cover all of our bases."

Another pause, then; "Have you had any contact with Elise Shelby outside of the office, in even the slightest way?"

Jill would get to the question about Elise soon enough, but she felt she had to straighten a few things first. The agent sat up a little straighter in her chair, fighting the urge to push the wires hanging off the nodes out of her face. Unhooking one of the nosed would probably be a bad thing -- hell, the machines would probably explode if tampered with in that manner. And Jill didn't really fancy exploding.

"An unknown quantity," she repeated, a little annoyance starting to seep through in spite of her best efforts. "When I was recruited into Project Integration and then the FBI, it was made abundantly clear to me the government had intimate knowledge of my dealings at Wolfram & Hart. Hell, the government assured me Wolfram & Hart wouldn't come after me once I left, since the firm is the type of place that doesn't take betrayal lightly.

"You're right, I should be behind bars for the things I've done. But the government decided I'd be better served with a badge, and all I'm asking in return is the government let me do the job they asked me to do the best I can."

The agent sighed, taking a moment to close her eyes and compose herself. Jill hadn't gotten angry or truly lost her composure, but she could tell her annoyance had become evident. It wasn't anything personal against the other agent -- though her sources were outdated -- but it was there regardless.

"As for Ms. Shelby," she added, "we had a chance meeting a few months back that was nothing more than an exchange of insults. Then we met over Dylan, which was my last piece of business before I removed myself from that case."

"What I mean," Agent Guitterez emphasized, her tone stiffening, "is that no one was certain you wouldn't ..." Delicacy. Delicacy and tact. This interview was probably being monitored. "Backslide. Your performance since you've become part of the Bureau has been excellent, but we've dealt with dissension within our ranks as well, as I'm sure you know. And this is very sensitive information we're talking about, not something to be handled without care. Not that Wolfram & Hart doesn't have their local sources for information, but ..."

The silence was telling, and Miranda shook her head. "We have to be careful, is all I'm saying."

She went back to looking at her papers, then said, "Is it your intention to have the site investigated, if not personally, then through a team of experts?"

"Wolfram & Hart would just as soon gut me alive than accept any help I'd be foolish enough to give them," Jill replied with a smirk, glad as all hell she was no longer under that company's employ. As annoying as working for the United States government got sometimes -- and being hooked up to these machines and being asked about every friend and sneeze in her past was one of those moments -- it still beat the hell out of calling the Senior Partners boss.

"I would," she affirmed. "I'd go in, have a look myself in broad daylight, with military escort. Then I'd have a team of Bureau scientists and military forces keep a constant eye on things to make sure conditions don't deteriorate and work on getting hard, definitive answers. That way we can hopefully prevent a recurrence."
"Well, considering what we know so far, a recurrence might not be preventable," Agent Guitterez said cryptically. "Not of the exact event, maybe, but you'll see once you get the file. As far as I can tell, you've answered all questions truthfully and without reservation. I'll file a report with my superiors once we're done here, giving my recommendation that you be granted the higher security clearance and the full file on Lincoln Park."

There was a dull slapping noise as Miranda dropped Jill's file back into her briefcase, and she clacked the latches shut with an efficient motion. "I can get someone in here to take those off," she said, indicating the wires hooking the other agent up to the polygraph machine. "I'm sure you've had about enough of them."

"You could say that," Jill chuckled. "The Bureau wasn't this paranoid when they let me in. At least then they would've had the right to be."

Watching the other agent, Jill gave a small smile, glad the interview was over and that she'd been granted clearance. The FBI loved to make people jump through hoops, but if one played their cards right, the rewards were more than worth it. Being granted TS/SCI clearance was the reward this time, and Jill was glad to know once she went back to work, she'd be able to actually do her job.

"You're a fine interrogator," Jill added. "You new to the Bureau, Agent ...?"

"Guitterez, and thank you," Miranda said with a small smile. "I was recruited right out of college, the University of Texas. First girl from the res to go to college in my family. My parents couldn't decide whether to celebrate because I was getting out or to complain because I decided to become part of the establishment. They alternate between the two, depending on their mood."

She got up from the chair, tapped an intercom button on the wall to summon somene to take the nodes off. "I can get you a cup of coffee when those are off, if you'd like one," she offered. "Is there anything you'd like to ask, any questions you'd have?"

"Coffee would be great, thank you," the agent answered, anxious to get the nodes off so she could stand and move about again. She hadn't been sitting for too long, but it seemed longer than it had been because of the stress of the situation and the tension in her body. She understood the FBI had channels to go through, but it all seemed so needless, just for a file too. Was there really anything all that alarming in the file she didn't already know?

Jill liked to think not, but considering how much she had to endure just to get clearance ...

"Just one," Jill added, "How bad is it on the other side of that quarantine? Really?"

The other agent waited to answer the question until a technician came in and detached the wires, making sure the polygraph was turned off before getting Jill her cup of coffee, as well as one for herself. Once the machine had been rolled out of the room and they were alone again, she cleared her throat quietly.

"Off the record, just between you and me?" she said, her dark eyes serious. "We don't know what is living behind those walls, not really. The reports were pretty detailed at first, but a year has gone by. The military boys keep guard to keep reporters out, and those unfortunate enough to get caught by the portal's energy haven't made much of a push to get free, but except for helicopter patrols no one from our side has seen the inside of the place since that rift opened. For all anyone knows, there could be hundreds of things in there. They could even be breeding."

The other woman's attractive face clearly indicated her distaste at the thought, and she added, "You didn't hear that from me, though, and I'll deny it if you repeat it to anyone. I'm hoping for a promotion soon, and I don't need problems."

"If there's one thing I still know from Wolfram & Hart," Jill said, pausing to taking a sip of her coffee, "it's how to keep something to myself. Considering the hoops I had to jump through just to get this myself, I won't say anything to get you in trouble."

What Guitterez said sounded plenty disturbing, but the agent decided to keep her reactions in check until she had a chance to read the full file and get a better understanding as to the depth of what the government knew behind that wall. As tragic as the Lincoln Park event had been -- she remembered the bartender Pat telling her once it was "our 9/11" -- it sounded as if the aftermath was just as bad.

If not worse.

"I'll be filing my report later this afternoon," Miranda said. "After that, you'll be getting a call from someone to pick up the file. I can't say whether you'll be allowed to leave the premises with it, but you've passed the clearance check to see the information. Congratulations, Agent Andersen."

She set her coffee cup down long enough to extend her hand in the other woman's direction, feeling pretty accomplished herself. Her own promotion was going to be in the bag soon enough, it looked like.

Shaking the other agent's hand, Jill gave a nod and offered a simple "Thank you." Truth was, she was suddenly too preoccupied with anything else to really make with niceties or conversation. She wouldn't really understand anything until the file was actually in her possession, but the agent wondered how the information would affect her ability to investigate the area. Would Jill be allowed on the other side of the wall? Would she have to wear one of those bulky, bright radioactive suits like in that movie with the infected monkey?

Its unflattering shape notwithstanding, the thought of having to protect herself from a potential biohazard made Jill nervous. This was one of those cases where a government job wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but the fact was, Jill couldn't do her job effectively without all that knowledge.

But sometimes, ignorance really was bliss.



[NPC Miranda Guitterez was written by Stargazer.]