Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 2-B
[from here]
"The morgue is at the end of this hall." It had seemed longer, in the confusion and the darkness of her first night here. The big fire doors halfway down it being open had helped as well. "Through those doors, and all the way down on the left."
It was paranoia talking; they weren't that far from the morgue, and Lana had no reason to suspect they wouldn't make it down there in one piece, except that nothing here could be taken for granted.
Everywhere, really. She'd taken too many things for granted, and then assumed too easily that, once taken away, none of them would ever be in her grasp again.
What was she going to do if Gant was alive? She certainly wasn't going to kill him again, though she wasn't entirely certain Detective Badd wouldn't. It would, by some interpretations, be quite legal, since Gant had been tried and sentenced. Just an unorthodox means of enforcement.
"The morgue is at the end of this hall." It had seemed longer, in the confusion and the darkness of her first night here. The big fire doors halfway down it being open had helped as well. "Through those doors, and all the way down on the left."
It was paranoia talking; they weren't that far from the morgue, and Lana had no reason to suspect they wouldn't make it down there in one piece, except that nothing here could be taken for granted.
Everywhere, really. She'd taken too many things for granted, and then assumed too easily that, once taken away, none of them would ever be in her grasp again.
What was she going to do if Gant was alive? She certainly wasn't going to kill him again, though she wasn't entirely certain Detective Badd wouldn't. It would, by some interpretations, be quite legal, since Gant had been tried and sentenced. Just an unorthodox means of enforcement.