Sam cast her eyes to the side, unimpressed by Carter and his goons. If anything, this only confirmed her theory. However, she also knew that the real power behind any organization would never risk exposure, so as high up as the man might think he is, he was still a puppet. Strings in your hand do not preclude the possibility of strings on your back. She pondered how far this thing went; how many levels of government involvement there could be. She wondered if it went straight up to the president, but decided he couldn't be involved; decisions like these weren't made by a "face".

Ranae gave her exactly what she wanted as she engaged their captors in debate. So long as they were focused on somebody else, no one would come for her. That was her hope, anyway. With all this going on, all she wanted was to flee. Once again, her life was being decided by men in suits. Once again, she felt like cattle in the slaughterhouse.

She silently resolved to do as much damage to them as she could, given the opportunity. The men in suits, the cell, and even her fellow captives all faded into the background as she worked out in her mind whether it was worth it to wait until additional freedoms were earned, so that she could more effectively sabotage them, or whether they intended to do her in regardless of how she behaved. 

Then he said something that snapped her back to reality. Genetic modification via airborne toxins? Was this really true, or was it another head game? This changed everything. If true, it could explain the odd events which had taken over her life within the last week. Perhaps it connected with the odd scribblings in her notebook. This deserved further inquiry.

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