Alani’s chuckle is utterly without mirth. “Not filling me with confidence with that ‘lost causes’ thing, sir.”
It feels like a lost cause. Outgunned, outnumbered, harried like the fox running from a pack of bloodhounds, and all they have to show for it is... a packet of old letters, a heavily-annotated file, and a flash drive full of stolen medical information.
And, of course, enough waking nightmares to fill a lifetime.
She hesitates for a moment. Just a moment. Then, gingerly, she pulls up the hem of her blouse. The attempt at medical care is passable, more akin to a soldier patching up a friend rather than a doctor treating a patient. Blood has seeped through the gauze and left a red smear across both skin and fabric.
“Gunshot,” she adds lamely after a moment. “Probably meant to incapacitate instead of kill.” The implication is unpleasant.
no subject
It feels like a lost cause. Outgunned, outnumbered, harried like the fox running from a pack of bloodhounds, and all they have to show for it is... a packet of old letters, a heavily-annotated file, and a flash drive full of stolen medical information.
And, of course, enough waking nightmares to fill a lifetime.
She hesitates for a moment. Just a moment. Then, gingerly, she pulls up the hem of her blouse. The attempt at medical care is passable, more akin to a soldier patching up a friend rather than a doctor treating a patient. Blood has seeped through the gauze and left a red smear across both skin and fabric.
“Gunshot,” she adds lamely after a moment. “Probably meant to incapacitate instead of kill.” The implication is unpleasant.
“...They wanted me alive.”