Night 59: Meeting Room 1
The door opened at the start of the night, and the air in the meeting room seemed to stagnate, as if resonating with the presence of the newcomer. Formalities were offered first and foremost: all military personnel stood at attention and welcomed their commanding officer with a salute. In turn, Aguilar reciprocated the gesture, before moving on to
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Of course, that name might not mean anything to these patients, depending on how long they had been here, and so she quickly moved to clarify. Her explanation was bound to be a little more helpful than Prescott's. "I'm a member of the rebel group myself, but I infiltrated this hospital a long time ago. I ended up in over my head, though. I was posing as a nurse, but Landel..." Even saying the name was enough to put a bad taste in her mouth. The brainwashing had left her with a whole host of complicated feelings about that man.
"He controlled my mind and made me work for him for a while. After he took out his old partner, he put me in his place as a plant. So I was on the radio as Jill for a bit, giving out clues that led into death traps." It wasn't something she was proud of, but she'd fought the Head Doctor's hold on her as much as she'd been able to.
She ran a hand through her hair, doing her best to ignore the sirens. She knew they had to run, but she owed them this much after everything that had happened. "Once the military took over, I was able to escape, but I worked my way back in and with Claude's help set up this plan. I wanted to give all of you a chance to escape too." She didn't know if they would be able to pull it off, but Aguilar had been yanked from his position and for once, the patients had some control. That meant a lot to someone like her, who had been controlled for so long.
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Then again, if she had been able to figure it out back then, Lydia Thayer wouldn't have been a very good spy.
"So the two of you aren't working with Landel like the man on the radio is." More relationships, more histories with one another that she was certain they would never reveal. She didn't know enough about the history of the institute to keep track of it all. It was enough to make her wish she'd paid more attention--but she'd always left that to the others on the bulletin board, the ones who'd had the patience to keep track of the details.
She blinked, taking a step back, her previously belligerent stance replaced with open curiosity. There were too many questions she wanted to ask, and she had a feeling neither Lydia nor Harringt--Prescott would answer them. They were on the run, too. It seemed all of them were now.
"Just one question, then," she said, turning her attention to Lydia. "When I spoke to you this afternoon, I asked you what Aguilar and his men were fighting. Why they'd funded this institute in the first place. You told me you weren't allowed to answer, but you were posing as a soldier then. Can you tell us now?"
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The female, on the other hand, offered a whole wealth of interesting facts. The name Lydia Thayer meant nothing to him, but she went on to explain. Castiel had only been in this place from the point where Marc had been in charge of the radio, but it seemed that this Lydia had masqueraded on it under Landel's orders.
It was shocking that after escaping the Head Doctor's hold, she had actually had it in her to come back and help them. Humans were truly remarkable sometimes; it seemed like the sort of thing that Sam and Dean would have done, merely because it was the right thing to do.
In any case, both of these people's names and the information they were giving was going to have to be committed to memory. Castiel didn't know what it would lead to in the end, but the three of them were the only ones hearing it, which meant they would need to pass it along if at all possible. His perfect memory was certainly going to come in handy in this case.
The one girl who had been first to ask before came out with yet another question. It seemed that she had actually interacted with this Lydia before. Castiel certainly hadn't, though he had met the male one in a sense. Was that why they had been selected?
"And what do the two of you plan to do now?" he asked next, glancing from one of them to the other. "Will escape truly be possible?" Their powers had been returned, but that didn't necessarily mean they would be able to return to where they'd been taken from. Though Castiel realized there was one thing he could do with his regained strength. He glanced down at the band around his wrist and then gripped it tightly. With little to no effort, he yanked it off of him and tossed it to the ground.
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The general's planning, undone. Maya supposed she should congratulate the ones who had brought such a situation about, but all she felt was irritated. The Major-Thayer spoke of escaping, but was this affair not indicative of the patients having been taken advantage of? It had been whatever had been in Maya's bracelet that had instigated the general's retreat. Unless it had been planned-clairvoyantly-ahead of time, this plan had to have been very recent, and very opportunistic.
Allies? Only through lack of options, and it was perhaps merely for this reason she felt anxious. Maya couldn't help but recall to mind the last situation this sticky she had been involved in, and she knew unforeseen consequences that persisted well beyond the scope of foresight were likely to be forthcoming.
Had Aguilar and his minions truly been rendered a non-threat? Did he truly not have a plan in the event things went awry, as it had done tonight? Surely the sirens were indicative of something.
First things first, she supposed. "Mine as well, please?" she asked the man who'd removed his bracelet, holding out her arm.
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But then again, so was the pink stuff covering their surroundings and the screeching proclamation for Code Red. He strode over to a nearby chair and with a moderately-sized flare forming around his shoe, slammed a foot against its back. The chair did not budge.
"I think I'd rather set myself on fire than work with that man," offered Claude, tone casual despite the subject. The woman was likely taken aback by the reveal and was attempting to piece together the facts. He couldn't blame her for wondering, but he wasn't going to start allowing false associations either. "And Marc's probably being coerced."
The other man--the one Claude had spoken to last night--asked his follow-up questions, and Claude took this as a cue. "Run like hell," he chirped, walking away from the pink furnishings. "Guess we'll see how that turns out. Lydia." There was a brief gesture. "Time to mosey."
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It was clear that Claude was already eager to leave, and honestly, so was she. She just needed to give them some parting words. (She noted the force field as well, even vaguely recalled when Landel had been testing it. They were going to have to find a way through.)
"Marc's distracting Landel for us at this point. You need him just as much. Don't underestimate him." He was young compared to the two of them, still new to this and full of ideals and hope. But that was what the patients needed. And Lydia thought he might be strong enough to come out of this whole mess with Landel and still be ready to fight. So long as he was still in control of himself...
But she couldn't worry about that.
"I don't have the time to say more than this," she continued, looking Soma right in the face. "This world was attacked by something it wasn't ready for, something immense and devastating. The people of this planet have lived in constant fear that that will happen again, and if it does our resources will be even more drained than before. Many people thought that this--" she paused to gesture at the space around them "--was the only option."
She could have given her thoughts on it, but that would take far too long. "I'm sorry," she said instead, shaking her head, "but we have to go."
Then there was a flurry of action as she grabbed for something at her belt and threw it to the floor. It caused a cloud of smoke to appear, something that was bound to put the patients into coughing fits and distract them for long enough that the two of them could slip away. Lydia squinted her eyes closed and then darted forward, grabbing for Claude's wrist and then pulling them through the door.
[To here.]
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She opened her mouth to protest as Prescott announced his attention to leave, but Lydia's smokebomb forestalled her. That was probably a good idea, she thought muzzily as she fought to clear the air. The less the patients knew of their whereabouts, the better. Or maybe she was reading into the act a little too much.
Waving her arms alerted her once again to the feeling of the tracking device on her arm. Recalling how the man beside her had torn his off as if it were paper, she tried the same. It gave eventually, but with considerably more effort than it seemed to have taken him. Throwing it to the ground, she glanced at her fellow patients and gestured to the still-smoking medal on the ground.
"I imagine someone will be up here soon. They must have known there was going to be a briefing tonight. Should we take that with us? Maybe one of the other patients will know what it is."
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By that point the two rebels had answered their questions, and yet again the female was more informative. The world had been attacked by something devastating, she said. Was it possible that Heaven had been to blame for that? Had the Apocalypse come about already with him somehow remaining completely unaware of it?
But no, he should have known. If his brothers were out there waging war somewhere beyond these walls, he would have been able to feel that. Gabriel would have, as well. There was no way he could be ignorant of such a thing.
And yet there was still that lingering doubt.
The cloud of smoke was an effective distraction from all of that, however, and Castiel started to cough until he realized that this sort of thing no longer affected him. He tried to race toward the door despite the poor visibility, but by then it had already been shut.
With a sigh, he turned toward the others, waiting for them to recover and then taking in the one girl's words. She managed to get her wristband off without his aid, which indicated that she was stronger than the average human. That was worth nothing. "You're right," he replied to her. "We shouldn't linger here." That medal that Aguilar had cast off, though -- while he didn't know what it was, they definitely should take it with them for later evaluation. For that reason, he stooped down and gathered it into his hand before returning his attention to the others. "Are you ready?"
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Maya's priority was her life, she mused as the smoke cleared away. For that reason, she was hesitant to leave, in case whoever was coming could be persuaded that Maya had been forced into this room and she had no dealings with the rebel cause.
Yet there would come a time when Maya must be decisive. Something seemed to have been set into motion tonight; why not join the fray tonight of all nights? She had not been given time to think, and there was not reason to suspect she would be.
Leaving it was, then, Maya thought as she took off her hat and tossed it on the table. "Thank you for the assistance," she said to the man as she opened the door.
[to here]
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