Night 58: West Wing, South Hall 1-A
((From here.))As he stealthily moved through the hall, Spock noted that it was quiet and dark. He didn't detect other patients, nor any hostile lifeforms. Perhaps the rest of the way leading to Dr. McCoy's quarters was in a similar state
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Byrne was running, paying little attention to his surroundings and just running. He wasn't the only one out, but he didn't give a damn about that. He didn't give a damn if he was attracting attention, he didn't give a damn if the gun in his hand was in plain sight, he didn't give a damn.
They'd taken Badd like they'd taken him a night ago. They were going to torture him. Where did they take him? What kind of sick experiment were they going to do to him? If they dare, oh, if they dare to do a single thing to his partner, Byrne was gonna--he was gonna--ohhh, damn them! Damn every single one of them, damn this place, damn everything! He was so angry that he couldn't think straight.
Was that dangerous? Maybe. But he? He had a gun. And he was pissed. Smart people didn't mess with someone who was pissed off with a gun.
[Running along to here.]
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