Day 57: Lieutenant General Charles Berg's Office

[das_berg]

Between yesterday's trip to Doyleton and today's visitation hours, it had initially been difficult to find the time to meet with any of the Institute's subjects. However, the administration under General Aguilar had proved themselves efficient in maintaining order while covering its true identity for the sake of the civilians. Given who was in

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[allroadslead]

Sam had meant to go look for Dean-just to see how he was doing (...and all right, maybe to see what else he could get out of him, too, which, yeah, made him feel a little bad, but it was important)-but that plan solidly went the way of so much for that when they decided to kidnap him while he was still technically kidnapped and had been for the past three frigging weeks.

This was the definition of his life.

"Hey, what the hell-" Sam spun around, and then everything felt like it was spinning. The sensation was way too familiar after he'd spent a whole night experiencing it every time he walked through a door.

Sonofabitch.

They hadn't tied his hands which made it easy to shove the blindfold off the first chance he got. He blinked, instinctively zeroing in on the nearest person-one person, actually. Even if it hadn't been for the uniform, the man was unmistakably military. His eyes settled on the three stars on the officer's shoulder, then narrowed. Like the rest of the soldiers, his uniform wasn't anything Sam recognized. The old medals though-that he recognized.

Sam shifted his weight and crossed his arms. "Should I even ask why I'm here or who you are, or are you just gonna feed me another line of crap?"

[das_berg]

Once again, Sam Winchester reached his office at the exact time Berg expected him. He was starting to think he could set his watch to his own appointments. Berg placed the gleaming pocket watch onto his desk, and turned to fully face the man in front of him.

"Well, you could simply ask and discover the answer for yourself," he replied with a quirked lip. "I will say that I don't intend to waste anyone's time, however." Rising from his seat, he calmly observed Sam's body language. He didn't appear happy to be here, but that was understandable. Given the fact they were also welcoming several visitors onto the grounds today, he'd likely thought he had someone waiting for him up front.

"I'm Lieutenant General Charles Berg," the officer added. "You were brought to my office because I'm interested in personally meeting with as many of you as possible." He glanced toward the seat in front of his desk. "Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable?"

[allroadslead]

The watch caught his eye, mostly because of the sheer lack of them around here. Or the ones that did exist apparently just didn't work. As far as weird went, that one was pretty common-clocks stopped all the time around the paranormal and he'd already figured out awhile ago that time was stable like dynamite around here.

But Berg's watch was ticking.

Sam looked down at the couch when the lieutenant did. His instinct to being told what to do by someone he didn't even like was to not do it, but...that would be petty. He didn't know how much time he had, but he doubted it was a hell of a lot, meaning he had enough time to either get answers or to make a point that probably wouldn't stick, anyway. And Dean had always played bad cop better than he could.

"Yeah, I'm sure your PR could use some damage control." He walked around and sat down. "Okay, so, I'm guessing our personal meeting is more than a get-to-know. Why am I here?"

And why him, in particular? If these meetings had been happening before, Sam would've heard about them, which meant they must've started sometime today at the earliest, or even only just now. What, did they pull names out of a hat? Something told him the selection process was a little more deliberate than drawing straws.

[das_berg]

Berg inwardly sighed. He'd just answered that question, and he hated repeating himself. However, if the man wanted more clarification, then there was no reason to hold back.

"I don't have any ulterior motives, if that's what you're asking, Mr. Winchester," he responded evenly. "You've been here for nearly three weeks, which makes you more experienced with the Institute than many of the others who are currently here. That's partly why I'm interested in discussing anything you may wish to talk about."

After reaching out to grasp his watch, he lifted it from the desk and tucked it back into his pocket. "But since our time is short, I will start with a simple question for you." Calmly regarding Sam, he linked his fingers together and rested them on top of the desk. "There's a man known as Marc who's been broadcasting radio messages at night. What can you tell me about him?"

[allroadslead]

So much for no ulterior motives. Granted, he doubted it was all about Marc. Or was the one guy really that much of a pain in the ass for an entire military force?

Sam shrugged. "To be honest, you probably have more than I do. I don't even know what he looks like." He wasn't lying; all he'd gotten out of Marc was that he was on the outside and popped up occasionally as a voice over. His clues weren't useless, but Sam wouldn't call them useful, either.

But okay, he had the offer to bring up whatever he wanted. Might as well take advantage of it and see where it got him. The thing was, there was only so much he was willing to say through his questions. His thoughts might've immediately turned to Dean and Ruby and what'd happened to them, but did he really want to spotlight them? Did it matter?

If he had to admit, likely not.

His eyes back on the medals and the books for a moment. For someone interested in brushing up on his strategy, those were some damn outdated books.

"What's going on out there that you need us in here? I mean." He paused. "You're obviously capable of pulling people from anywhere, so I assume you're just as capable of going through the same door. What is it about this world that you're trying so hard to salvage?"

Or at least Landel was. He didn't know what the hell had been going on, but he had a feeling that his freakout that day, it'd been genuine-and the military had confirmed them as assets, anyway. Which explained the oddly low number of fatalities.

[das_berg]

"That's understandable," Berg said with a nod. The subjects' movements were largely confined to the Institute's grounds, but he had reason to believe Marc successfully made face-to-face contact with some people under Martin Landel's watch. Since Marc hadn't shown himself quite as much under Aguilar's command, however, they didn't have as much information on that as Berg would have liked. "We have a lot of resources, but I'm still under an obligation to ask on the off chance someone knows something."

But that was a problem for another time, even if it was one of the many messes Dr. Landel had left for them to clean up.

Still, Sam's next question was rather interesting. True, they had quite a bit of advanced technology at their disposal, but that didn't mean it could conveniently solve all of their troubles.

"I don't think it's so strange for a man to fight in order to 'salvage' his world," Berg answered with a small frown. "This is my home, so of course I would work to protect it. When you get down to it, that's essentially my job."

[allroadslead]

Okay, fair enough. That didn't suddenly make everything fine, but...maybe he could understand. In a way. Either that, or he was being fed a line-Sam had played the same cards enough times and he knew better than to believe the tables couldn't be turned.

It did make him think, though, that if they were part of the project, if they were meant to be valuable, then-what? Dean's deal wasn't the real thing? It wouldn't be hard to fake, not with everything else this place was capable of. A little smoke and mirrors could get those red eyes flashing. Beyond that, what else was there? Demon contracts didn't exactly come with a dotted line and a signature.

He studied Berg for a moment. He was a hard man to read, which was pretty much as expected, really. It didn't make it any easier to know what to think about him. Sam wasn't gonna go out of his way to sympathize-but these were still people, not demons. Whatever was going on, there had to be a good reason for it.

"And you think dragging people from their own homes will help you protect it? What from?" The monsters and spirits running around? No, probably not. They were too controlled to be an accident. So what was it? Seriously, if they were going to drag him into the middle of their crap, they could at least tell him what the hell it even was.

He could probably phrase that a little more diplomatically and less like Dean, though. "Look, I just think if people knew what you're fighting for, you'd have better luck getting some of us on your side."

That would do.

[das_berg]

Sam brought up a valid point, but it wasn't as though Berg hadn't considered that before.

"Our administration has discussed implementing the very policy you suggested, but we ultimately decided it would compromise our program too much," the officer replied. "Our success rate has been adequate enough without it, and previous experience has shown that being too open may hurt our efforts."

Those two factors alone were largely enough for the military to determine that it was better to keep news of the outside world away from the Institute's subjects. But Berg felt the need to clarify, and so he continued: "We're also trying to observe you. Adding too much outside information may contaminate our findings."

Some people would likely find it distasteful, but Berg had decided long ago to devote himself to working alongside General Aguilar in order to fight for their cause. If these sorts of methods were required, then he had to accept that.

[allroadslead]

Right. Of course a straight answer would be too much to ask for. Still. Previous experience. Sam shouldn't have been surprised that there were other runs of the same project in the past, but somehow, he was. He guessed he just hadn't given it much thought either way. If he had to be honest, he was out of his depth. He was a hunter. This right here was edging too close to some kind of crazy conspiracy crap.

Jesus, how long had the project even been going on? Years? Decades? And how relative was time here, anyway? Ruby had called it a hell dimension. Sam hadn't been so sure about that, but he'd long stopped denying that it was a dimension of some kind.

"These people aren't here to be your frigging guinea pigs, General," he snapped. "And whatever you're using to keep your lab rat intact, it's not gonna hold forever. How much of what's wrong with this world is because it's meant to be that way and not because of what you're doing with it?"

[das_berg]

Berg's expression grew stony. "When you're actually aware of current events, Mr. Winchester, then you'll be in a better position to discuss these issues with me," he said. "Until then, I suggest you avoid lecturing those who are currently monitoring the health and well-being of not only yourself, but anyone else here you may care about."

Maybe it wasn't fair to him or the other subjects, but life was seldom fair.

"Don't misunderstand me," he added. "I don't do this because I think it's fun or enjoyable. But the fact of the matter is that all living creatures do what they must in order to adapt and survive. Dismantling the program simply isn't an option."

He was certain General Aguilar felt the same way. They both had too much riding on the success of this project.

[allroadslead]

Berg might've been a soldier, but he talked more like a politician. Granted, one who didn't care that much about getting the electorate to actually like him.

Sam shifted. Christ, Dean would love to meet this guy. "If I gave a damn about my well-being, I wouldn't be here in the first place." Most people didn't pick up a shotgun and go chasing after things in the dark because they were interested in living long lives. And yeah, of course he wanted Dean safe, but when there was his freaking soul to worry about, when he'd already watched his brother die more than once, it kind of took the sting out of your average threat.

"I'm right, aren't I?" he pressed. He could be flat out wrong, but he didn't care. He'd always been good at pursing a thread once he'd caught a hold of it. Especially when he didn't have a hell of a lot else to go on. "Something's happening to this world that's making it unstable, something to do with this project. So, what, if you don't get us fit for whatever it is you need in time, this whole thing falls apart? Is that what you're afraid of?"

Because it seemed to him like that was what Landel was afraid of. And it wasn't hard to miss how quick things had moved out of nowhere. First couple of weeks, things had been pretty stable. Then IRIS, the zombies, the portals, the military intervention-it'd snowballed, faster and faster.

"If you're not gonna answer that, at least tell me how stable someone's existence is. If they're not supposed to be alive, what happens if they go back?"

Probably more than he'd wanted to say-but screw it. He doubted Berg didn't know already.

[das_berg]

If Sam didn't care much for such matters, then that was fair enough. However, the fact remained that the officials who oversaw this program had the power to make life either a lot harder or easier for the subjects here. Berg personally thought Sam would do well to remember that, but it was a moot point for now.

"As I said before, our success rate has been adequate so far," the officer explained. "But this sort of program isn't cheap to maintain. After assessing Martin Landel's performance, we decided it would be best for the military to take charge of matters in order to make better use of resources." That was, in part, the reason the menu changed dramatically once General Aguilar assumed command.

"We're not afraid of anything," he added. "We simply want to run things as efficiently as possible, and take whatever precautions we can."

Berg knew he should have expected that last question, but it still seemed like an abrupt change of subject. He supposed he couldn't blame anyone from springing that on him, though. "Each individual's circumstances are different," he answered after a moment. "That sort of thing would likely depend on why they're not 'supposed' to be alive, and where they came from in the first place. There's no blanket answer I can give for that."