Internet (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} hyperlinks) wrote,@ 2011-02-02 09:10:00 |
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He had fucked up. No, that wasn't true. He had seriously miscalculated. That sounded more redeeming. He was busy. His computer nearly overheating next to him, though he didn't touch it. He was in an almost meditative state. In his universe. Changing locks. He had to keep her somewhat contained until he found a better solution. She'd find her way past his locks, and he'd change them again. In the meantime, while trying to contain the bitch, he knew he couldn't do it on his own. And this was becoming a matter of National Security. Shit would hit the fan when he appealed to Jamie for help, but he couldn't help but feel a tiny bit responsible.
[Message sent to National Security's inbox, however many there were.]
Remember 9/11? We need to talk.
[Message sent to National Security's inbox, however many there were.]
Remember 9/11? We need to talk.