Re: Greetings, Agents
Phil was quiet this time, or at least for the moment, taking it all in. His mind working, processing information and contemplating plans. It was easy to come up with plans, not so easy to come up with something that would work. Or that had an at least reasonable probability of working.
Because with this, they could never be absolutely certain something work. They never actually could be, true, but some things gave you even less certainty than usual.
He wasn't fond of that, never had been.
And he was a planner, always had been. A planner, an analyzer, the kind of person worked well with this type of task. He worked well with a lot of things, but this was one of the things he was particularly well-suited for.
Not for the first time was he grateful for his attention to detail, too.
Stifling a sigh, he just kept taking down notes -- with a seeming idleness that anybody who even halfway knew him would know was a lie -- and working his way along.