The man handcuffed to the bed was not happy. His chest hurt, his back hurt, his shoulders hurt, everything above his waist ached or throbbed or felt like somebody had set him on fire. Thank god for painkillers, he thought.

Of course, he could deal with pain. He was a professional. The thing that actually made him upset, of course, was the two Antiskill officers and the ESPer staring him down. He did not like where this was going.

"You are in so much trouble, you know. When you get out of the hospital you're going straight up the river. Life in prison, no question; unless you feel like helping us track down whoever it is you're working for."

The Antiskill pauses to pick his nose, examining his finds for a brief second before flicking it away and continuing.

"Your buddies left you here to die or get caught; what do you owe them? I mean, they kidnapped a little girl, from what we hear. Those the kinda people you wanna protect? Are you really that kinda guy?"

"I wouldn't be working for them if I wasn't, now would I?

God, even talking hurts. The G.E.A.R. soldier shifts in his bed, groaning as he leans on a bruise too hard.

"You won't find me the talkative type, I assure you. Quit wasting your time."

The Antiskill give each other a look. Well, it's more like The Look-the one that passes unspoken understanding between two people who've known each other for a long time.

"You wanna play it that way, it's fine with us. We're not the ones gonna be rotting in prison for the rest of our lives. Plus, this guy says he can read minds. I don't really get the spooky ESPer thing myself, but I reckon he's gonna get what we want anyways. That means your pals are gonna think you ratted them out, and you STILL go to prison. Last chance buddy."

The man in the hospital bed ignores the Antiskill to stare down the ESPer in the corner. He wondered whether it was a bluff. Or, if it wasn't a bluff... How much could they pull from his mind? It would be difficult, at the very least; he'd had extensive anti-psychic training. He knew how to shut down parts of his mind, close them off to prying eyes. But there was always the off chance that they managed to get something useful...


In a room not to different from the other one, Yori sits in a chair and distractedly reads through performance reports and data files as he waits for the small girl in the hospital bed nearby to wake up. He wondered whether or not he'd get what he was angling for. Well, he supposed it didn't really matter. Whether or not the brat agreed, the project already had what they needed from her, and if she did consent, well, icing on the cake.

The girl stirs, mumbling as she begins to come to. Yori puts his work away and folds his hands, resting his chin on them as he leans forward.

"Good morning, lazybones. I have a story to tell you..."