Night 58: Intercom, End of Night
By now, the intercom's click seemed like a dear friend to a tired patient's ear. Its sound echoed throughout the halls of the facility, disrupting the night's general stillness.
What came after, however, was neither a tirade nor an explanation. Rather, the voice that came through was someone different from the Eagle. Was familiar enough for anyone to catch the subdued Western accent.
"--My recommendation, sir?"
A sputtering of static revealed another speaker, but their words proved unintelligent and largely vague. Those versed in technology might have recognized this to be the work of a voice scrambler.
Ignoring any incongruity, Major Harrington continued, "Pardon my boldness, sir, but there has yet to be any proof that the sample set was contaminated. I do not believe that would be--"
The man's words were abruptly cut short, the same static rising in their place. Though none could see Harrington's face, from the silence, it was obvious he was in disbelief.
"A second," he muttered, to gain energy in the next moment. "Of course, sir. We will flush out the mole before tomorrow evening using any means necessary."
The voice behind the static sounded pleased, as evident by Harrington's next response:
"Martin Landel will be no exception."
The intercom clicked off. The night passed to darkness.
What came after, however, was neither a tirade nor an explanation. Rather, the voice that came through was someone different from the Eagle. Was familiar enough for anyone to catch the subdued Western accent.
"--My recommendation, sir?"
A sputtering of static revealed another speaker, but their words proved unintelligent and largely vague. Those versed in technology might have recognized this to be the work of a voice scrambler.
Ignoring any incongruity, Major Harrington continued, "Pardon my boldness, sir, but there has yet to be any proof that the sample set was contaminated. I do not believe that would be--"
The man's words were abruptly cut short, the same static rising in their place. Though none could see Harrington's face, from the silence, it was obvious he was in disbelief.
"A second," he muttered, to gain energy in the next moment. "Of course, sir. We will flush out the mole before tomorrow evening using any means necessary."
The voice behind the static sounded pleased, as evident by Harrington's next response:
"Martin Landel will be no exception."
The intercom clicked off. The night passed to darkness.