Benjamin Linus (master__mind) wrote in taintedsprings_, @ 2009-03-19 17:57:00 |
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WHO: I'm Ben Linus and Richard Is Always There
WHAT: Almost like the old days
WHEN: The late night/early morning
WHERE:Wouldn't you like to know?
WARNINGS: See "who". This thread promises too much awesome.
Taking his leave of Juliet's apartments had been mildly therapeutic. So had been the quiet use of her kitchen and the carefully crafted note he'd left for her to find when she woke up. There had been no need to disturb her; she likely needed her rest. Also, he didn't much care for a repeat of what had happened the other night. This time when he'd tested getting out of bed, there hadn't been any side-effects and he figured that was as much as he needed to get back to his work. Too many things had been left unattended to while he recovered from this incident. There were reactions to be controlled.
Once he was out in the dark streets, Ben took out his phone. After three rings, he hung up and dialed again. This time, a voice immediately answered.
"Larry-- yes, it's me. Of course it's me. Look, I know it's been a while but I'll be needing you to vacate building forty-two. Take Jen and go to my hotel room-- she knows the address-- because I trusted her with it, that's why-- now are you going, or aren't you?" A pause. "Thank you. And be careful." The last was not so much a show of concern as a firm instruction. The whole was as strong as its leader, but also as its weakest link. This is why Ben elaborately picked out who got to know how much and when. Larry was a fine operative to go on a clean-up mission, but he had a way of jumping the gun, and such an interruption was not enjoyable when secrecy was key.
Ben chose to walk the rest of the way to the specified safehouse. He didn't think that the two stationed there would need more than the required time to pack up and leave, but he valued the opportunity to stretch his legs. Being on bed-rest made you lazy, but was no excuse. So he took the minutes to watch the other denizens of the city, the buildings, and what stars were visible. It wasn't one of the largest cities, but Royston was still full of the dregs of buildings that weren't kept up, people who didn't deserve their luxuries. They may have lived in the Dharma houses, but at least they had been a community. Everything had been regulated. Every word had come down from the higher representative. But the island wasn't his anymore. His people weren't even his anymore; the only thing he had left was his war. A battle. Violence--that was his legacy. And who could ever build a community on that?
By the time Ben had reached the large industrial garage that they'd gutted into a halfway house, he'd reorganized his priorities. He may not have been on the island, but he still had a certain responsibility. And he would see it done.
Graffiti littered the walls. A large pink and green "Represent" was spray painted right out along the the corner that Ben wandered to. Hidden behind a good section of the paint was the crack of a door. Ben fished into his coat pocket and frowned slightly to himself. He could've sworn there was... he had made sure to keep the key there. He was certain he'd put it there. Ben sighed. Well, no matter. He went into his back pocket and took out a pen instead.
Fifteen seconds later, and Ben made a mental note to get the door lock on building forty-two fixed. He slipped inside, softly closing the small door behind him, and then he turned to survey the setup. The place was kept minimal, as per Ben's general instructions, so he wasn't surprised when all there was in sight was a tall counter, a beaten up couch, and a small kitchenette area. Fake walls blocked off what he assumed were for living spaces, and those he didn't need. He moved further into the room, pulling open a couple of drawers in the counter cabinets. There was a handful of utensils lying next to a collection of different USB cables, which was... an interesting form of organization. Oh, Larry. Sometimes muscle was just hired... to be muscle.
He lifted a couple of these cables out and laid them onto the counter. In another nearby drawer he found a laptop, which he flipped open and set to boot while he wandered to the side and opened the refrigerator. Whole milk. Cheese and bread. Grapes. He took the grapes. He'd dosed off at Juliet's before he'd had anything to eat, so it was bothering him a little. Usually, Ben could partition hunger off to a part of his mind easy to ignore, but it had been a few days and even great leaders of men had to have a couple of grapes eventually. So he juggled the bunch of these with a section of cheese and moved back to the laptop. It was blinking a gray box asking for a password.
Ben still hesitated a moment. He paused, a green grape pressed between his fingers, and he thought about the past several hours. He'd been in Juliet's place, lying in bed and chatting like nothing was going on... well, something was definitely going on - not all of which he could properly recall - but once in a while there'd been this feeling...
He was getting another feeling now. That something was coming. This was enough for him to re-situate himself in front of the laptop as he pulled out the various test tubes he'd taken from the apartment. He popped the first grape into his mouth and typed the required password into the computer. To the sound of it starting up, he slid his reading glasses onto his nose and went for the... oh, where did the... it was here... Ben shoved his hand back in his pocket but came out with the pen. He put it into his mouth and tried again, this time coming out with his phone. Ben dropped his chin low enough that he could see over his glasses and read the number lighting up the display.
"Larry..." Ben muttered, his voice muffled by the pen. Grimacing, he flipped the phone open and held it up, "Incase you're wondering, this is what we'd consider the opposite of radio silence. This better be good."