Who: Oliver and Pam Where: Second floor lounge, then the deck When: Just after this
To be perfectly honest, the messages on the computer hadn't entirely cleared things up for Oliver, and in retrospect, he probably should have stuck around to read a little of what was going on around the network. Years of training told him that gathering information was paramount, assessing the situation, knowing exactly what he was dealing with. But he didn't. He could feel that familiar tightness hanging in his gut, and instead of the comfort of a tub, or the ghost of a craving for a drug he hadn't taken in years, he just wanted air. Air and answers, but for the moment one was taking precedence over the other. He could go back in after, check the computer, or go somewhere else to find someone. There were other people here, from what the message had said. Other subjects.
Escape is impossible.
The second he'd heard the door lock click he was up and out of his chair. The door opened into an elegant sitting rooom, and to his left there were doors, stretching around a corner that continued on out of his sight. But there was another door to his right leading directly outside. He quickly realized that it wasn't a means of escape, a patio constructed on the second floor of what turned out to be a rather impressive house. A hot tub stood directly in front of him, and over the edge of the railing he could just make out the corner of a large pool.
The choice of how you will be treated during your stay here is entirely up to you.
The tenseness increased as he walked, and before he knew it he was gripping onto the railing at the far side of the patio, facing out to the trees despite the fact that he couldn't quite see them.
Inhale. The word drifted into his head in a warm voice that wasn't his own, then continued as he closed his eyes and obliged. One.........two.......three...... Ideally, this would have worked better if he'd been laying down, resting on his back, somewhere safe. But he didn't even know where that was right now. Exhale........ one.....two.....three.... He repeated this several more times until his grip on the railing loosened slightly, his knuckles drifting from white to pale pink after a few seconds. Not great, but better.
"Okay, old man. Get your act together," he whispered to himself, barely audible, but the words themselves helped loosen the knot just a little bit more. He straightened a bit, confidence and control oozing back into his shoulders to make it appear as if he were simply leaning now, instead of using the railing as life-or-death support. A few more minutes and he could really think about what to do next. His training hadn't exactly prepared him for a situation like this, because there never had been a situation like this. At least not for him or anyone he knew. He did his best to think back to the message he'd seen on the computer, knowing that gave him at least some information to go on about what to expect in the house. Other subjects meant other people in the same situation. Other soldiers, maybe? Maybe. Somehow, looking at the pool and the hot tub, he doubted it. Besides, he wasn't one of those anymore either. Non-hostiles, then, or at least until proven otherwise. No sense in going in guns blazing.
Not that he had guns.
What if they did.
Movement from one of the windows in his peripheral vision caught his attention, but as quickly as he'd caught on it seemed to vanish again. He couldn't even tell what floor it had come from. So, yes. Other people. Great.