[ Something about the chatter seems odd. Forced in a way that Maine doesn't understand. He casts a glance at Wash from the corner of his eye — a move that requires only a slight turn of his head, thanks to his oversized visor. Maybe this place is freaking Wash out. Maine thinks he'd know if Wash were claustrophobic, but then again, it's not like the Project encourages sharing one's fears.
At the question, Maine hums in thought. Wonders how best to put it. ]
Briefcase.
[ After Team B failed, it had fallen to Maine to retrieve their objective. He'd dropped down onto the hood of the program official's car. Hung on while the man skidded and swerved, then slammed the blade of the Brute Shot through the windshield and into the man's sternum. Wasn't hard to do: that weapon's fucking beautiful. Then he'd plucked the briefcase from the vehicle and been on his way.
"Nice work," Carolina had called it. He'd thanked her. He'd been proud. And then...
Then he'd found himself handcuffed to Wash.
Maine shakes his head, trying to brush aside the strange blankness between "now" and "before." Speaks, instead: ]
Retrieved.
[ That's what he was doing. That's the last thing he remembers; he's sure of it. ]
no subject
At the question, Maine hums in thought. Wonders how best to put it. ]
Briefcase.
[ After Team B failed, it had fallen to Maine to retrieve their objective. He'd dropped down onto the hood of the program official's car. Hung on while the man skidded and swerved, then slammed the blade of the Brute Shot through the windshield and into the man's sternum. Wasn't hard to do: that weapon's fucking beautiful. Then he'd plucked the briefcase from the vehicle and been on his way.
"Nice work," Carolina had called it. He'd thanked her. He'd been proud. And then...
Then he'd found himself handcuffed to Wash.
Maine shakes his head, trying to brush aside the strange blankness between "now" and "before." Speaks, instead: ]
Retrieved.
[ That's what he was doing. That's the last thing he remembers; he's sure of it. ]