'Later' came much later in the week and the day when most soldiers had retired to the privacy and relative quiet of their bunkers.
Wallabin hadn't made an appearance once in the base within that half a week, which was both unsurprising but unusual for him. The meeting he had last attended had sounded like a serious one, given the dour expression and the set in the senator's jaw the entire ride back to his residence. He had spent nearly the entirety of his next seventy-two hours holed up in his study, leaving only to sleep. He had ordered his meals brought up to him, and only gave Weiler a passing glance when the tray was set down. This wasn't entirely unheard of - despite his penchant for indulgence, the man did have certain bouts during which he actually did work, but considering how he had made it a point to visit the base at least once every two days (to 'touch base,' he said), some might have found it odd.
Weiler had been rather preoccupied too. He had spent the first day and a half carefully observing Wallabin in case this bout of seclusion wasn't ordinary, but none of the bugs and none of his instincts could pinpoint what was wrong, although the niggling feeling he had in his chest never quite left. Then, before he could really come to any conclusion on that, his bi-monthly report to the Circle had come and gone, which left him with an empty sensation that only intensified as the next day wore on. Weiler had all but forgotten the phone call until that last day, and even then, only as he was about to turn in did he recall it.
Locke's phone rang at eleven-forty-three PM, at the end of three days.
no subject
Wallabin hadn't made an appearance once in the base within that half a week, which was both unsurprising but unusual for him. The meeting he had last attended had sounded like a serious one, given the dour expression and the set in the senator's jaw the entire ride back to his residence. He had spent nearly the entirety of his next seventy-two hours holed up in his study, leaving only to sleep. He had ordered his meals brought up to him, and only gave Weiler a passing glance when the tray was set down. This wasn't entirely unheard of - despite his penchant for indulgence, the man did have certain bouts during which he actually did work, but considering how he had made it a point to visit the base at least once every two days (to 'touch base,' he said), some might have found it odd.
Weiler had been rather preoccupied too. He had spent the first day and a half carefully observing Wallabin in case this bout of seclusion wasn't ordinary, but none of the bugs and none of his instincts could pinpoint what was wrong, although the niggling feeling he had in his chest never quite left. Then, before he could really come to any conclusion on that, his bi-monthly report to the Circle had come and gone, which left him with an empty sensation that only intensified as the next day wore on. Weiler had all but forgotten the phone call until that last day, and even then, only as he was about to turn in did he recall it.
Locke's phone rang at eleven-forty-three PM, at the end of three days.