[Locked] And we're off to see the Wizard ...
[The result of this thread.]
Second floor, first hallway, down the corridor … gotcha.
It required very little thought after the coffee shop went up, really. A few days of going over the possibilities in his head, running through the scenarios. What’s the worst thing that can happen if Elashte turns out to be a complete asshole? What’re the advantages ( Read more... )
Second floor, first hallway, down the corridor … gotcha.
It required very little thought after the coffee shop went up, really. A few days of going over the possibilities in his head, running through the scenarios. What’s the worst thing that can happen if Elashte turns out to be a complete asshole? What’re the advantages ( Read more... )
Comments 14
It's always a concern.
He's perched on the edge of his desk when Jack walks in, though somewhat oddly twisted around to look at a low cabinet behind and beside the desk. "I think Phoebe left some scotch in here if you're serious about that drink," he says, without either looking up or un-twisting himself - actually, he twists a little further, flicking open the door to reveal a bottle, only half-finished.
Only.
Then he sits up, weaving his knuckles together with a dry smile. "Decided we're the most palatable of the available options?" he asks.
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It says something, he thinks, that there's enough of a population of sharks in Lake Michigan to sustain that little one-man industry. He's going to have to check and see whether that makes any sense according to any of the mundane published materials on the lake's fauna, sometime. He gets up, recovering the scotch and two glasses, and pours once he's sitting back down.
"First things first, though: an icebreaker." He holds out one of the glasses. "Tactical opinion on how to deal with our friend Mr. CLF?" His tone is conversational, but he's making no effort to disguise the attentive narrowness to his eyes. There are certain answers he'd like to hear, and he's hoping O'Neill will be kind enough to oblige him on one of those.
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Of course, with the ever-present threat of having ships fall out of the sky, maybe “relaxing” is the wrong word here …
Jack takes Harkness’s offered scotch glass without breaking eye contact, watches him closely. He doesn’t drink from it, not yet, just rotates it in his hand as he considers his next words, because this is hardly an icebreaker despite Harkness’s claim. It’s all there in his voice.
“Surgical strike team, take out the key players,” he says, after a moment. It’s his gut instinct. Shoot first, ask questions later, and for Christ’s sake, worry about the goddamn fallout later when the threat's gone. “We’ll need to gather intel on how the CLF operates. Does it work like a traditional terrorist organization, with cells, or does it operate differently. Where are the weak ( ... )
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