Scene Title Tempering
Synopsis Asi strains under the heat following the Liberty Island prison break.
Date January 11, 2020

An undisclosed safehouse, New York Safe Zone

December 28, 2019

Crunch crunch.

The sound of breakfast. Cereal wasn't ideal, but it was at least something. Asi sits crosslegged in the chill of the kitchen, absently turning over the pages of the newspaper she'd picked up from the store. She was taking a holiday today, a bit belatedly. A break from it all. She had one operation planned, another in the works, and a work package mostly prepared for Raytech. ON1's been busy.

Asi deserved it— this. A day unplugged.

She flips the Times to the next page, letting the light paper settle down flat in the time she spins the spoon back around to scoop another bite.

Maybe she should make an egg with this. Go out for coffee someone else makes, so she can pretend it's halfway decent. She hmphs at the thought. There were a few crumpled bills she had left. It'd do good to get some fresh air today, too.

Asi stops midchew when her eyes settle on a bolded headline. Liberty Island Terror Attack is how it reads. There's an image of smoke rising from the symbol-of-welcome-turned-prison. The page helpfully informs her at the bottom of the text blurb that this story is continued on E6.

Fuck. she thinks to herself, unmoving while her eyes glean the initial details from the page. It gets worse the further down she reads. She flips to E6.


January 11, 2020

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

An endtable laden with sheets of notes is shoved aside, sending paper scattering everywhere. The screen continues to play the news in the background, the latest development in the Liberty Island terror attack being released to the public one soundbyte at a time.

She knew it. She fucking knew it.

It had been fucking Mazdak after all.

Asi stands up from her seat, hands clawing back through her hair while she begins to pace. She could scream. She very much wants to. But she doesn't.

On the screen behind her, an image of both Baruti Naidu and Chess Lang display. She knows better. It must be Lanhua they caught on camera. In either case, she can't bring herself to look, heart racing while she paces, socked feet crackling on paper underfoot. Her fingers work back to the base of her skull and hang off her neck.

"Why… why why why why," she wonders to herself in an agitated whisper, halting in her pace to look back at the screen, hands still locked together behind her. What the hell had they been thinking? This was going to make what they had asked her to do so much harder. And not to mention, with Lanhua's visible involvement and her previous link to crimes overseas, it was only a matter of time before—

And then it's herself being shown on the screen next.

"Now they're actively going to be looking for me near New York. Fucking—" Her hands come away from her head, clenched into fists. What the fuck had they been thinking??

"«Are you people trying to shoot yourself in the foot?»" Asi asks the screen as if it will answer, slipping into her native tongue. It's a pointless exercise, but it helps her keep from doing anything more destructive. "«Or is it just me you're trying to fuck over?»" Her arms come to a fold, sandwiching her hands against her side to keep from setting her hands on what she'd been working on and potentially setting a proverbial fire to it. "«What about this breeds any loyalty? Why not work with me, if you're interested in going on a spree of prison breaks?»" The insult of it all stings the more she thinks about it. "«You didn't even wipe the security footage on your way out, you» stupid, fucking—"

Internally, she does scream. Her hand flexes in and out of a fist, still pinned to her side. Asi's eyes flutter closed as she works on bringing herself to some state vaguely calmer. If she got lost in being petty about how this inconveniences her specifically, how was she to step back and examine the bigger picture to figure out where she fits in this?

And if not her, then the people in that facility they want her to crack.

Asi's eyes snap open, one hand lowering to touch her mouse with fingertips. The news cycles offscreen although the audio is left to play, leaving her with the various windows of information she'd compiled researching PISEC's inhabitant-prisoners. Like Mohinder Suresh, and Odessa Price. Her nail taps along the mouse, eyes narrowing on Suresh in particular.

Nabu wanted him dead, did he?

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