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xp_logs2004-10-28 01:26 pm
x-cable.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2004-10-28 01:26 pm
Nathan and MacInnis (over the phone, so no killing. Yet!), Thursday afternoon
Nathan is trying to unwind after yesterday evening's mission when he gets a phone call from the Old Rat Bastard, who has more information that Nathan can't ignore. And he doesn't, although he sets a new record for 'how many times can I threaten MacInnis' life in one conversation'?
Moira had gone ahead and cancelled his classes for him this afternoon, telling him that he needed some more time to rest and that his session with Jack should take precedence. Nathan had to agree with the former - he was still groggy from the sedative she'd given him last night, which was unusual and thus suggested to him that a little more rest would probably be a good thing - but really wasn't looking forward to the latter. He was going to have to explain to Jack what they'd done, what they'd found...
Stop thinking about it. Nathan sat down heavily on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut. But that didn't help, because all he saw were the bodybags when he did that. The bodybags, and the boy's face. The boy he hadn't been back down to see yet today. Avoidance? Yeah, definitely avoidance. He didn't want to frighten him again, so he was just going to have to wait until the kid was out of the medlab and drug-free. And that wasn't cowardice on his part. Really.
The phone rang, and Nathan jumped, his eyes snapping open. It kept ringing, and he decided to let the voice mail grab it. It reached four rings, then stopped. A few seconds later, it started again. Nathan sighed and got up, going over and picking it up. If this was Dom checking to see if he just wasn't answering the phone, he was going to yell at her.
"Hello?" he asked a bit gruffly.
A pause. "Hello, Nathan," MacInnis said calmly.
Throwing the phone at the wall was not a productive sort of response, an almost alarmingly calm part of Nathan pointed out. "I'm going to kill you," that calm part of him said instead. Almost conversationally. "If I ever see you again, I am going to kill you and rather enjoy doing it."
"I'm sure that'd feel really good right now, son," MacInnis replied, sounding very tired. "Anymore threats we want to get out of the way right now, so we can get to what's important?"
"Important?" Nathan took the phone over to the couch and sank back down, his jaw beginning to ache at how tightly it was clenched. "Important like telling me there was going to be a field team at the safehouse?"
"I didn't know for sure. I gave you the best information I had available," MacInnis said, and maybe the weariness in his voice was meant to convince Nathan that he was being sincere, but he didn't buy it.
"You lying old bastard. I might not wait. Maybe I'll just hunt you down and kill you sooner rather than later." Because he was beginning to realize that there were going to be more encounters like this. More IMs and phone calls and emails he couldn't ignore. This was just the start, and he didn't need to be precognitive to know that. "How the hell do you sleep at night?" Nathan demanded bitterly. "How long did you have the location of that safehouse before you came to me? They were dead, you son of a bitch. All but one of them."
"Are you done yet? Foley's on the run."
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. "He's... he's what?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"At best guess, what happened at that safehouse cracked his conditioning. He ran off. Didn't come back with the field team."
"But... I knocked him out," Nathan said, thinking back to the fight. "Maybe–"
"They dragged Morgan back. They would've done the same with Foley, but he wasn't there when they went to get him, apparently." MacInnis was silent on the other end of the phone for a long moment. "We did more than put Kritzer's trojan horse in your head when we had you back in May. We sifted through your memories, too. Got details on all your old exit strategies. We've got enough information to think that Foley's choosing the 'Belgian tour' option."
"You–" Nathan bit off both the curse he'd been about to fling at MacInnis, and rapidly traced one of the Askani meditative patterns in his mind to try and calm himself down. "Information?"
"Emailing it to you as I speak, actually. And son," MacInnis said with a touch of bleak humor, "let's not get started on why you should or shouldn't trust me, okay? There's nothing I could say to reassure you anyway."
"Then why shouldn't I just hang up the phone right now?" Nathan snapped.
"Because you won't take the chance that I'm telling the truth," MacInnis said. "That Foley's out there, running, just like you tried to do when your conditioning first broke. And you won't take the chance that Mistra found all those old memories when they reconditioned you in August and that they know precisely where he is and how he's trying to get away."
Nathan closed his eyes. "Fuck," he breathed, his breath catching in his throat. "I am so going to kill you. Probably very slowly." With that, he hung up the phone and rose again, striding into the other room and right to the computer.
Moira had gone ahead and cancelled his classes for him this afternoon, telling him that he needed some more time to rest and that his session with Jack should take precedence. Nathan had to agree with the former - he was still groggy from the sedative she'd given him last night, which was unusual and thus suggested to him that a little more rest would probably be a good thing - but really wasn't looking forward to the latter. He was going to have to explain to Jack what they'd done, what they'd found...
Stop thinking about it. Nathan sat down heavily on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut. But that didn't help, because all he saw were the bodybags when he did that. The bodybags, and the boy's face. The boy he hadn't been back down to see yet today. Avoidance? Yeah, definitely avoidance. He didn't want to frighten him again, so he was just going to have to wait until the kid was out of the medlab and drug-free. And that wasn't cowardice on his part. Really.
The phone rang, and Nathan jumped, his eyes snapping open. It kept ringing, and he decided to let the voice mail grab it. It reached four rings, then stopped. A few seconds later, it started again. Nathan sighed and got up, going over and picking it up. If this was Dom checking to see if he just wasn't answering the phone, he was going to yell at her.
"Hello?" he asked a bit gruffly.
A pause. "Hello, Nathan," MacInnis said calmly.
Throwing the phone at the wall was not a productive sort of response, an almost alarmingly calm part of Nathan pointed out. "I'm going to kill you," that calm part of him said instead. Almost conversationally. "If I ever see you again, I am going to kill you and rather enjoy doing it."
"I'm sure that'd feel really good right now, son," MacInnis replied, sounding very tired. "Anymore threats we want to get out of the way right now, so we can get to what's important?"
"Important?" Nathan took the phone over to the couch and sank back down, his jaw beginning to ache at how tightly it was clenched. "Important like telling me there was going to be a field team at the safehouse?"
"I didn't know for sure. I gave you the best information I had available," MacInnis said, and maybe the weariness in his voice was meant to convince Nathan that he was being sincere, but he didn't buy it.
"You lying old bastard. I might not wait. Maybe I'll just hunt you down and kill you sooner rather than later." Because he was beginning to realize that there were going to be more encounters like this. More IMs and phone calls and emails he couldn't ignore. This was just the start, and he didn't need to be precognitive to know that. "How the hell do you sleep at night?" Nathan demanded bitterly. "How long did you have the location of that safehouse before you came to me? They were dead, you son of a bitch. All but one of them."
"Are you done yet? Foley's on the run."
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. "He's... he's what?" he asked, his voice shaking.
"At best guess, what happened at that safehouse cracked his conditioning. He ran off. Didn't come back with the field team."
"But... I knocked him out," Nathan said, thinking back to the fight. "Maybe–"
"They dragged Morgan back. They would've done the same with Foley, but he wasn't there when they went to get him, apparently." MacInnis was silent on the other end of the phone for a long moment. "We did more than put Kritzer's trojan horse in your head when we had you back in May. We sifted through your memories, too. Got details on all your old exit strategies. We've got enough information to think that Foley's choosing the 'Belgian tour' option."
"You–" Nathan bit off both the curse he'd been about to fling at MacInnis, and rapidly traced one of the Askani meditative patterns in his mind to try and calm himself down. "Information?"
"Emailing it to you as I speak, actually. And son," MacInnis said with a touch of bleak humor, "let's not get started on why you should or shouldn't trust me, okay? There's nothing I could say to reassure you anyway."
"Then why shouldn't I just hang up the phone right now?" Nathan snapped.
"Because you won't take the chance that I'm telling the truth," MacInnis said. "That Foley's out there, running, just like you tried to do when your conditioning first broke. And you won't take the chance that Mistra found all those old memories when they reconditioned you in August and that they know precisely where he is and how he's trying to get away."
Nathan closed his eyes. "Fuck," he breathed, his breath catching in his throat. "I am so going to kill you. Probably very slowly." With that, he hung up the phone and rose again, striding into the other room and right to the computer.