SGA Bannon Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - His Fellow Man

[Bannon]

"Asshole!"

The National Security Advisor looked like she was going to attack the pale blond man, prompting the nearby Secret Service agents to exchange a coolly concerned glance. The Doc had screwed up this time, they both thought almost in unison. The pale man didn't seem too affected by the woman's wrath, however. He just sighed as he regarded her with his cold green eyes, as though she were a child throwing a tantrum and he was an adult without patience. Which was, in his mind, a fair assessment of their current working relationship. Her assessment of him was unprintable.

They were currently standing in a White House anteroom having a 'post-Presidential brief meeting'. Or, in more colloquial terms, a right royal row.

"We agreed that the findings would be presented as inconclusive for now!" Emily Bloque stormed. She wasn't the first female N.S.A these Secret Service agents had seen, but she was definitely the most hawkish. And, when she didn't get her way, the most ball-busting. They'd seen this woman tear strips off generals and civilian consultants alike. Thus far, however, Doctor Bannon didn't seem to be very fragile.

"No. You decided they were, because you think the President is as simple-minded as you are." he said with cool disdain. "The man had no trouble grasping the concepts I outlined, as you seemed to think he would. Though having felt my own eyes glazing over whenever you try to explain anything more complicated than ordering breakfast, I can see why he might encounter problems with his National Security briefings. Thank god he can read the notes in his own time, or we'd all be speaking Chinese."

"Now you listen to me, you... you shit. You ambushed me in front of the President, in the Oval Office, in front of the Secretary of Defence and the Joint Chiefs. I took you in there as a preliminary face-to-face, so the President could get to meet you for future briefs-"

"So you were wasting both my time, which is bad enough, and the time of the leader of the free world in there." Bannon said with a sneer. "You're obsession with spin-controlling and spoonfeeding the man is mindboggling. It's not a hard concept, Emily." he continued across her attempted retort, the only sign of his own irritation with this banal woman in the hard glitter of his eyes. "Biowarfare as it exists is not currently a significant strategic threat in terms of infrastructural damage. It's primary purpose is to scare people, to get them to jump at every cough or sniffle. Furthermore, the treatments currently being used by the CDC and the Army Disease Center are not as up to date as they could be-"

"They don't need to be, if it's not a significant threat-"

"Shut up and listen. Those men and women do need more funding, as I told the President. Anthrax, were it to break out in downtown Chicago, would kill less people than the water-based diseases suffered after Katrina did. We were not up to par there. In addition, there is genetic-based research originally intended to strengthen immune systems that could just as easily be used to strengthen pathogens and viruses, prolonging their survivability in open air, and thus their virulence, and that could have repercussions in the strategic arena." Bannon pointed a finger in the direction of the Oval Office. "The President needs all the facts in order to make the right decisions. He doesn't need a glorified PA deciding what facts to feed him so he makes what he or she considers to be the right decisions. So I nodded placidly when you handed me my song sheet, and then I threw it in the bin and told him the truth. Shocking, I know. How dare I. Basically, Emily, if you want a puppet, you can stick your hand up someone else's ass."

"You're finished in this place, mister. I'll be revoking your clearances and you can go scuttle back under whichever bookshelf we found you." The National Security Advisor turned and stalked towards the door.

"That's doctor. Not mister. Perhaps if you understood the difference, you'd be more interesting to talk to. Though I feel whisky may need to be involved too." Bannon hurled at her back as she left the room, then muttered as he turned and paced over to the window. "And a facelift, you trout-faced harridan."

The two Secret Service agents were professionals, so they didn't laugh or applaud, or even raise eyebrows at the confrontation they'd just witnessed. Now, though, as Bannon removed a slim silver cigarette case from his jacket, one spoke up.

"This is a no-smoking area, sir."

"Fine." Bannon left the cigarette unlit and tucked it behind his ear. "I was just leaving anyway." He nodded to the agents and headed out the door, only to run into a man with a general's insignia on his uniform jacket. Bannon squinted at him bad-temperedly as he stuck out a hand. This officer had been in the briefing earlier.

"Doctor Bannon? General ONeill, Department of Homeworld Security."

"Homeland Security is a military joint now?" the scientist asked as he shook ONeill's hand. "Well, if that Bloque woman sent you to arrest me, you're being awful polite. I was expecting tasering and strip searching. I need a smoke." he started off in the direction of 'out' and 'away'.

"I'm not with Homeland Security." the general replied, falling into step and smiling politely as his dark eyes studied the pale younger man. "I said Homeworld."

"Homeworld?" Bannon stopped and blinked, looking at the soldier suspiciously... and curiously. "Never heard of them." The general smiled like a cat that just caught a mouse with cheese on a hook.

"Let's go somewhere you can light up, and I'll tell you a little about us..."