The Office of the Crown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
palace_marton) wrote2006-01-02 11:35 am
palace_marton) wrote2006-01-02 11:35 am
Entry tags:
Marton and Harry. Update.
[After Marton tells Christian.]
"God love the General Intake," Harry muttered, shifting another stack of files to the side and rubbing his eyes, trying to ignore the growing rumbling in his stomach. Elijah'd gone out for a lunch run a bit ago, but clearly telling him he didn't need to hurry back was a mistake. "Maybe he decided he needed to bake the bread for the sandwiches," Harry snorted, reaching for another set of files and opening the top one.
Opening the door without bothering to knock, taking liberties that Harry insisted on, Dwayne stuck his head round the corner, his expression marred by a worried frown. "You're wanted upstairs." he said tersely. "As in, His Majesty. As in, right now!"
Harry's head jerked up as the door opened, frowning as he saw that it was Dwayne and not Elijah. "What the fu-" he cut himself off, out of his chair and crossing the room. "You got anything you can tell me?" he said tersely, moving on autopilot, his brain going a mile a minute. It can't be Orlando. If it was, I'd know. Ariene? Angelina?
"Not my call, boss. Sorry." Dwayne pushed the door open so Harry could get out. He did know what was going down, but not enough that he could give a reasonable explanation, even if he weren't under orders from 'the top'. Harry'd find out soon enough. He stepped back out of the way, already anticipating what Harry'd say when he saw his waiting room.
"Not your call," Harry muttered under his breath, not at all pleased with that answer. And if it was coming from anyone but Marton, he and Dwayne'd be having words about that response right now. He looked up, his eyes narrowing further as he saw the complement of security guards occupying the outer office. Whatever this was, it was big, and it'd been happening for a bit now. He sped up, not even acknowledging any of them, stalking out into the hall. "You should have told me something was going on sooner," Harry near-snarled, tamping down the panic coiling in his stomach.
Dwayne's huge shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Harry was just letting off steam, he'd been around long enough now to know that. Nothing he could do and they were both aware of it. Shifting aside to let the extra guards into the lift alongside Harry, Dwayne punched the button and stepped back to let the door slide closed.
Marton's hands were still shaking. Reaction, he told himself. Adrenaline. Running his fingers through his hair, he almost jumped when someone knocked on the office door. "Come in."
It took him the entire ride, but Harry'd managed to force down his fear and panic far enough that he was able to walk in the door and close it behind him without immediately demanding an answer, his free hand clenched in a tight enough fist that his fingernails were digging into his hand. He looked up at Marton, saying nothing. Waiting.
Marton was not in a place where he could find the time or the words to sugar-coat this. Nor, he suspected, would Harry want that, judging by the look on his face. He waved the other man to a seat and said bluntly, "Johnny's been kidnapped."
And so help him god, Harry almost laughed. He stared at Marton, knowing it wasn't a joke, just wishing like all fuck it was. Not again. This can't happen again. "How-" he paused, swallowing hard and trying again, needing a moment to get his emotions under control. "How do you know? What happened?" he said, his voice hoarse.
Marton laid out what little they'd been able to piece together so far in a tone that reflected how tired and saddened he was. It was still only relatively early, but he felt drained. "Jet was hit with a knock-out shot but he hit the emergency signal before it got him completely. We sent a team out there, but by the time they arrived Johnny and whoever took him were gone. No one saw anything, of course, but the area's been cordoned off and the forensic team's going over it with tweezers. Since then we've pulled everybody in or are in the process of doing so and the usual investigations have started." He leaned on the desk, shaking his head slightly. "And now we get to wait."
Harry managed to keep his seat for a bit, but he was up and pacing now. It wasn't exactly new news that he's never been good at just 'waiting'. "I can pull my people off the Intake, get them looking for Johnny," he started, still trying to think of what more he could do. "Is it public knowledge yet?" His head jerked up again, looking at Marton. "Christian. Does he- no, he must know," he cut himself off before he completed the sentence. "He can't reach Johnny?"
Marton shook his head. "I've already spoken to Security. You and your people will have full access." Trying a smile, which felt small and rueful, he added, "I knew you'd insist so I took the path of least resistance. We're keeping a lid on this until we get a demand. I want to have some kind of handle on who and why before the questions start." Marton needed to sit down. No, what he needed was to be sitting in his daughter's nursery playing with building blocks and laughing, none of this ever having happened, but... "Christian heard Johnny," he said. "Once. I suggest you stay away from him right now, he's not... Well, it's best to give him some time."
Almost managing a smile at the 'path of least resistance,' Harry's expression became serious again, nodding in agreement. "Understood- quiet is better for now." He kept pacing, thinking over what Marton said about Christian. "Are you sure that's what he really needs? To be left alone?" Harry frowned, not entirely convinced that was the best approach.
"I think so." Marton finally did what he'd been wanting to do for hours and took a seat, sighing as the chair adjusted to cradle him. "He took it pretty badly; worse than I thought he would actually." He wiped his face with a hand. "He heard Johnny yell but thought it was exam nerves leaking through. I'm guessing, no, I know he wishes he'd paid more attention. Leave him be for now, yes? He's gone over to the Gatehouse and I think I saw Willow scooting back in this direction so the Gatehouse is probably a place you don't want to be."
"Even if he'd paid more attention, it wouldn't likely have made a difference," Harry sighed, following Marton's lead and taking a seat. "If Johnny didn't holler again, it'd be because he was knocked out or given a blocker. He'd not be able to get a bead on him with just that. Not that I expect you'll be able to convince him of that any time soon," Harry murmured.
"Exactly," Marton agreed. "On both counts." He shifted position a little, lifting one long leg up to rest his booted foot on the desktop. "So now we play the waiting game. We have theories already, of course, but nothing concrete. No one saw a thing." He sighed again, momentarily distracted. "Five hundred fucking years," he said softly, almost to himself. "And it has to happen on my watch."
"Five hundred..." Harry repeated. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he had a feeling he didn't want confirmed. "Marton... what's the policy on this. It's been a long time since I looked it up."
"We don't negotiate," Marton said flatly. "Ever."
Harry looked down at the ground, swearing under his breath. "I should... I should get people working," he mumbled, not ready to look up yet. "How long do you need to keep the brigade out there following me around? I'll keep to Palace Proper for now if it lets them be off doing something more productive."
"I'll call them off." Marton told him. He picked up his com and turned it on, only to find a message flashing. "All present and accounted for, apparently," he passed on, reading the note. "Everyone's in and safe." He sent the order to give Harry freedom and then tossed his com back onto the desk. "You're good to go."
"Thanks," Harry got up again, needing to do something. "I'll keep it low profile, but I'll get on it right away." At some point, this was going to hit Harry, and hard, and he'd have to react to it, but that time wasn't now. "Check in with you for now, until Christian's... until he's here?"
"Yeah." Marton was feeling overwrought and overwhelmed, politeness failing before a groundswell of emotional pain. He watched Harry head for the door, wishing he could be the one doing something more... practical than just sitting in an office. "Good luck," he whispered as Harry headed out.
"God love the General Intake," Harry muttered, shifting another stack of files to the side and rubbing his eyes, trying to ignore the growing rumbling in his stomach. Elijah'd gone out for a lunch run a bit ago, but clearly telling him he didn't need to hurry back was a mistake. "Maybe he decided he needed to bake the bread for the sandwiches," Harry snorted, reaching for another set of files and opening the top one.
Opening the door without bothering to knock, taking liberties that Harry insisted on, Dwayne stuck his head round the corner, his expression marred by a worried frown. "You're wanted upstairs." he said tersely. "As in, His Majesty. As in, right now!"
Harry's head jerked up as the door opened, frowning as he saw that it was Dwayne and not Elijah. "What the fu-" he cut himself off, out of his chair and crossing the room. "You got anything you can tell me?" he said tersely, moving on autopilot, his brain going a mile a minute. It can't be Orlando. If it was, I'd know. Ariene? Angelina?
"Not my call, boss. Sorry." Dwayne pushed the door open so Harry could get out. He did know what was going down, but not enough that he could give a reasonable explanation, even if he weren't under orders from 'the top'. Harry'd find out soon enough. He stepped back out of the way, already anticipating what Harry'd say when he saw his waiting room.
"Not your call," Harry muttered under his breath, not at all pleased with that answer. And if it was coming from anyone but Marton, he and Dwayne'd be having words about that response right now. He looked up, his eyes narrowing further as he saw the complement of security guards occupying the outer office. Whatever this was, it was big, and it'd been happening for a bit now. He sped up, not even acknowledging any of them, stalking out into the hall. "You should have told me something was going on sooner," Harry near-snarled, tamping down the panic coiling in his stomach.
Dwayne's huge shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Harry was just letting off steam, he'd been around long enough now to know that. Nothing he could do and they were both aware of it. Shifting aside to let the extra guards into the lift alongside Harry, Dwayne punched the button and stepped back to let the door slide closed.
Marton's hands were still shaking. Reaction, he told himself. Adrenaline. Running his fingers through his hair, he almost jumped when someone knocked on the office door. "Come in."
It took him the entire ride, but Harry'd managed to force down his fear and panic far enough that he was able to walk in the door and close it behind him without immediately demanding an answer, his free hand clenched in a tight enough fist that his fingernails were digging into his hand. He looked up at Marton, saying nothing. Waiting.
Marton was not in a place where he could find the time or the words to sugar-coat this. Nor, he suspected, would Harry want that, judging by the look on his face. He waved the other man to a seat and said bluntly, "Johnny's been kidnapped."
And so help him god, Harry almost laughed. He stared at Marton, knowing it wasn't a joke, just wishing like all fuck it was. Not again. This can't happen again. "How-" he paused, swallowing hard and trying again, needing a moment to get his emotions under control. "How do you know? What happened?" he said, his voice hoarse.
Marton laid out what little they'd been able to piece together so far in a tone that reflected how tired and saddened he was. It was still only relatively early, but he felt drained. "Jet was hit with a knock-out shot but he hit the emergency signal before it got him completely. We sent a team out there, but by the time they arrived Johnny and whoever took him were gone. No one saw anything, of course, but the area's been cordoned off and the forensic team's going over it with tweezers. Since then we've pulled everybody in or are in the process of doing so and the usual investigations have started." He leaned on the desk, shaking his head slightly. "And now we get to wait."
Harry managed to keep his seat for a bit, but he was up and pacing now. It wasn't exactly new news that he's never been good at just 'waiting'. "I can pull my people off the Intake, get them looking for Johnny," he started, still trying to think of what more he could do. "Is it public knowledge yet?" His head jerked up again, looking at Marton. "Christian. Does he- no, he must know," he cut himself off before he completed the sentence. "He can't reach Johnny?"
Marton shook his head. "I've already spoken to Security. You and your people will have full access." Trying a smile, which felt small and rueful, he added, "I knew you'd insist so I took the path of least resistance. We're keeping a lid on this until we get a demand. I want to have some kind of handle on who and why before the questions start." Marton needed to sit down. No, what he needed was to be sitting in his daughter's nursery playing with building blocks and laughing, none of this ever having happened, but... "Christian heard Johnny," he said. "Once. I suggest you stay away from him right now, he's not... Well, it's best to give him some time."
Almost managing a smile at the 'path of least resistance,' Harry's expression became serious again, nodding in agreement. "Understood- quiet is better for now." He kept pacing, thinking over what Marton said about Christian. "Are you sure that's what he really needs? To be left alone?" Harry frowned, not entirely convinced that was the best approach.
"I think so." Marton finally did what he'd been wanting to do for hours and took a seat, sighing as the chair adjusted to cradle him. "He took it pretty badly; worse than I thought he would actually." He wiped his face with a hand. "He heard Johnny yell but thought it was exam nerves leaking through. I'm guessing, no, I know he wishes he'd paid more attention. Leave him be for now, yes? He's gone over to the Gatehouse and I think I saw Willow scooting back in this direction so the Gatehouse is probably a place you don't want to be."
"Even if he'd paid more attention, it wouldn't likely have made a difference," Harry sighed, following Marton's lead and taking a seat. "If Johnny didn't holler again, it'd be because he was knocked out or given a blocker. He'd not be able to get a bead on him with just that. Not that I expect you'll be able to convince him of that any time soon," Harry murmured.
"Exactly," Marton agreed. "On both counts." He shifted position a little, lifting one long leg up to rest his booted foot on the desktop. "So now we play the waiting game. We have theories already, of course, but nothing concrete. No one saw a thing." He sighed again, momentarily distracted. "Five hundred fucking years," he said softly, almost to himself. "And it has to happen on my watch."
"Five hundred..." Harry repeated. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he had a feeling he didn't want confirmed. "Marton... what's the policy on this. It's been a long time since I looked it up."
"We don't negotiate," Marton said flatly. "Ever."
Harry looked down at the ground, swearing under his breath. "I should... I should get people working," he mumbled, not ready to look up yet. "How long do you need to keep the brigade out there following me around? I'll keep to Palace Proper for now if it lets them be off doing something more productive."
"I'll call them off." Marton told him. He picked up his com and turned it on, only to find a message flashing. "All present and accounted for, apparently," he passed on, reading the note. "Everyone's in and safe." He sent the order to give Harry freedom and then tossed his com back onto the desk. "You're good to go."
"Thanks," Harry got up again, needing to do something. "I'll keep it low profile, but I'll get on it right away." At some point, this was going to hit Harry, and hard, and he'd have to react to it, but that time wasn't now. "Check in with you for now, until Christian's... until he's here?"
"Yeah." Marton was feeling overwrought and overwhelmed, politeness failing before a groundswell of emotional pain. He watched Harry head for the door, wishing he could be the one doing something more... practical than just sitting in an office. "Good luck," he whispered as Harry headed out.