Who: Blindfold When: Tuesday Evening Where: MLF Facility What: Ruth's interrogation continues and she continues to politely tell them where they can shove it.
So far, Ruth had managed to remain intractable toward answering the questions put to her. No matter what they asked, she refused to say anything they didn't already know. They already knew where the gala was and had some idea of the guest list, but she wasn't about to tell them anything about the security details that would be there. What she knew said there were going to be two actual uniformed sets of guards, but a third would be circulating through the crowd looking for exactly the kind of stupidity they were intent on pulling off.
Instead Ruth busied herself with outlining the metal panels in her walls with her fingertips and reciting statistics from various sports stars from eras before she was even born. Whether or not her handler had figured that out or not, she didn't so much care.
"Ah've go' 115 panels 'ere below 'ead 'eight," she mumbled to herself. Her walk was slower than normal, limping slightly thanks to the burn blisters on her feet. There were matching ones on her arm and even one along her right cheekbone from where she'd ended up on the floor. Though her voice was sounding a bit hoarse and she was certain the metallic taste in her mouth came from her fillings, she appeared to be happy with the way things were going. Help was coming.
Ruth didn't tell them that either. The MLF didn't need to know she had seen their end already. The knowledge made her smile. Were she less injured, it might even have brought on a little dancing, but she decided it would be better to conserve her energy.
"How many bodyguards is Godfrey actually bringing?" The voice on the P.A. sounded exasperated.
"Dere's t'ree 'unded people on dat guest list," she spat at the wall since there was no point in turning her face toward the camera in the room for surveillance. "'Ow many ya think?"
The expected rush of electricity going up through her legs made her snap her teeth together to keep in the scream. She wouldn't give them the pleasure of getting her to give in. Ruth was stubborn. The only problem was, could she out stubborn men who were slowly but surely becoming more and more desperate?
Help is coming. Ruth began to repeat that over and over again, even as the world began to press inward, threatening her with unconsciousness. Help is coming. She let awareness go. What was another bruise on her cheek?