![]() The men were less than a foot from each other. ![]() Loyd reciprocated the action, but with both hands. Backman angrily slammed his hand on the table. I'll eat my pants if it's not him." Loyd chuckled at his own joke. Being arrogant and uptight isn't helping your case." "Maybe he is killer." Pietrovitch concluded. "Why is that, Backman? Is there something you're trying to hide? What is it?" prodded Shipherd. "There's no way I'm letting you folks get a hand on my gun." Backman's hand instinctively covered his revolver. All eyes went to the table, then resumed inditing the security guard. Goggins gave a partial eyeroll, then tossed her PPK/S right next to Kabasic's Model 19. Kabasic gave Goggins a look of 'come on' and a slight nudge with her elbow. Don't give us the damn telenovela script." I like you." Kabasic pulled out a Model 19 snub-nose revolver and tossed it on the table in front of her. ![]() So I figure that you probably have your gun. Also, I've heard that Foundation agents rarely keep their badges on them. Kabasic took a look at her belt and back up. ![]() Now, the only things that could make such a noise are a belt buckle, a badge, or a handgun. "Well when Captain Trevelyan was taking roll earlier, I heard a faint chink of metal when you hopped off the counter. "Elaborate on what? I'm not sure what you want me to talk about, Joe." Would you care to elaborate, Miss Kabasic?" Fynegan interjected. You're the only one with easy access, hell, even the only one with a gun." "What're you trying to say, huh?" Loyd deftly slapped Backman's hands away from his neck. He approached his accuser and grabbed Loyd's collar. Backman raised a fist as sixteen eyes gave him a dubious look. I bet my money on our security guard friend Backman." Loyd extended an appendage in the direction of the accused party. "Well, if they were shot, wouldn't the killer have easy access to a gun?" asked Ister. A good man." He rubbed his nose with his finger. The nine co-workers, all temporarily mute, turned to look at each other. Good day." Trevelyan's voice ceased, and a click was heard, indicating the intercom was off. Now if you would all stay here, we'll be back to ask you some questions. Shipherd turned around to face Trevelyan. Sabatic, opposite Pietrovitch, raised his right hand. Pietrovitch, sitting to the right behind Fynegan, scooted his chair closer. Ister broke off his conversation with the man next to him. Goggins stopped tapping her shoes on the ground. "What?"įynegan stood up, shouted "Present!", and sat back in his chair. ID of 94-A7 PF54AJ."īackman slammed his can of soda down. I'll be reading a list of names: if your name is called, make some indication of it. "One gunshot to the head, two to the chest. "How do you know Thornhill wasn't accidentally killed?" Loyd queried. Is this what they had been corralled up for? Loyd glanced at his co-workers, then back at the ceiling. The only people in the vicinity were you nine you're all suspects." This morning at approximately 0900 hours, one of your colleagues, a Doctor Montgomery Thornhill, was killed. The room was filled with a crackle of static, then a loud tapping noise similar to a large timpani. He rarely remembered or even made an effort to remember anything about himself. Their IDs were a good level higher than ours." "What do you think we're in here for, Loyd? Those weren't normal escorts we had. Loyd's observation was interrupted by Fynegan. The security guard had finished bullying the vending machine and was drinking a can of soda. It was one of the comparatively smaller break rooms, only populated by several tables, a microwave, and two vending machines.The red-headed woman was sitting on the counter, while the other one was standing, tapping the ground with her tennis shoes. Loyd took a break from the conversation and observed the room. I don't know what we're here for, either." Fynegan turned around for a brief moment before turning back to Loyd. Do you know why they're here?" Loyd pointed casually in the general direction of the others. "Hey, Loyd, are you in this mess too?" asked Fynegan. Loyd dragged a chair over to the table with Fynegan and plopped himself down. At yet another table, two men appeared to be complaining about something however, Loyd was out of earshot to make out their conversation. Next to them, a security guard was in front of a vending machine, kicking it with a fair amount of force. On the far side of the break room were a pair of women wearing rather formal attire. Behind Fynegan's table were two other men, presumably other doctors. He recognized one of the people, Joe Fynegan, sitting down at one of the tables. He sighed, knowing he'd have to interact with them. Daryl Loyd walked into the break room, populated by eight other personnel.
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