Doctor Geoffrey sat down at the big lunchroom style table. Even so late at night, the building was alive with people, so the cafeteria stayed open. Which suited the doctor's needs just fine, as most of his time spent away from his lab was time spent eating meals. While it certainly did not cling to him as it did to others, he had learned in his early years that late night work powered by take-out on a regular basis was just a bad idea in general. Anymore, he much preferred a meal made with fresh ingredients, even if it cost more.

Sitting down with his tray, he looked over his choices. The night staff had prepared a southern themed menu that night, which included a variety of appetizing dishes. Upon his plate, the doctor had collected; a burrito, stuffed with red beans, rice and spiced meat; two corn-shell tacos, loaded with fresh vegetation; a serving of guacamole, with fresh-made tortilla chips; two fried chicken breasts, covered in white gravy and black pepper; three buttermilk biscuits, each smeared with apple butter; a small bowl of chili; and a slice of apple pie, for desert.

When the announcement played, the Doctor was crunching on tortilla chips, dripping with chili and guacamole. Naturally, that meant he had not gotten the message. Everyone else in the room had stood up and left, though, which he did take note of. Even the kitchen staff, he noticed, as he continued to eat. With no one else in the room, he shrugged his shoulders and started on his chicken. Certainly, this warranted investigation, but the lack of screaming and explosions made it difficult to consider it an urgent matter.

"Doc," came a familiar voice from behind him, one of the security team. He was approaching, and sounded concerned. "Didn't you notice-Woah... Damn, miss a few meals, Doc? Spread like that, I get why you didn't hear it. Hey, let me help you pack this up, we'll drop it in your lab on the way. Big meeting going on, and everyone has to come."

It took a moment to place the voice. More than a few of the security team had become familiar with him, and many of those had similar accents. By the time he'd swallowed his mouthful of chicken, though, he knew. The man was civil enough, but he really would shoot if someone refused an order from his superiors.

"Roskins!" He began, hands dropping the chicken to wipe them free of grease. "So kind of you to offer. How's Jessica, and your little boy, uhm... Richard? Did he like going with you, to the game?" As he spoke, he stood. The two exchange pleasantries, talking about the young man's wife and child. They did as was suggested, and stopped by the lab to drop off the food, before leaving to the meeting. Several other guards joined them on the way, each joining in the small talk. By the time they got to the room, the Doctor had gathered an escort of twelve armed men, and they were all smiling when they entered.