(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

Meg's cellphone buzzes once with a particular prearranged ringtone, and goes silent: the go signal.

The walls of the office building offer no resistance.

If the internal layout matches the map Angel and his people provided, the detention cells should be two floors down.

Comments

[sunnydalealum]

-- Forty hours ago --

"...Like we did with Connor, back in LA. It's the only way to be sure. Otherwise they'll look in my head and see exactly what the plan is, and then we're screwed."

"And you can work one of those on yourself?" Andrew does not look sanguine about the idea.

"Not a problem. We just need to set up a way to trigger the memory retrieval --"

-- Four hours ago --

Meg focuses intently on her own hand where it rests on the tabletop, and slowly presses down and through --

-- Two and a half hours ago --

Jonathan's voice is steady as he cups his hand around the burning herbs. "Tabula Rasa. Tabula Rasa. Tabula Rasa --"

-- Now

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

His eyes widen, and then his expression turns to determination as he remembers the truth of what he's doing there, and what he's meant to do next.

"I am. It's showtime."

[sunnydalealum]

The door of the cell is locked from the outside, and fairly thick, but it's not designed to hold anything stronger than the average human.

Which is what Levinson is, right?

[jonathanparagon.livejournal.com]

Of course.

That's why he can kick the door open so easily, now the time's right.

It doesn't lead to the hallway.

[bloodandnicotine]

No, it leads to here instead.

Here, where a certain few people have been Sitting Tight and Waiting To Be Called For.

[balletrat]

Jonathan's part of the plan seems to be well underway, so Meg gives him an encouraging nod and moves to her next task - getting outside, and spreading the word.

Passing through the walls is easier now. She counts them off, mentally, remembering the way she's come: room, hallway, room, room, hallway, room, and -

This should be it.

[sunnydalealum]

This is, in fact, the proverbial it.

There's a window in this room, showing the streetlit winter night outside. The only thing between her and the second part of her mission is a few thicknesses of brick and plaster.



And it won't let her through.

[balletrat]

There is only one thing, really, to say right now.

Meg says it.

Pardon her French.