| Private Thoughts - Early morning of 24th April |
[Apr. 24th, 2009|01:56 am] |
Almost 2am and I can't damn well sleep.
Shit, I hate having to take lists to Gianfranco. I fucking HATE feeling as though I'm at his beck and call with the safety of so many damn people in my hands. I hate it, even if they're got away before anything can happen. Gianfranco won't put up with that for too long. That'll only cause shit for me.
And for Delora.
Speaking of which... shit. I shouldn't. I KNOW I shouldn't. But nobody can control their feelings - not that much. I can't tell her or she'd probably feel obliged to end it all. And I can't, in all honesty, say that'd be wrong. It probably wouldn't. The fewer ties we have, the less they have to hang us with.
Still, at least they think I'm still loyal. I can fool them. I just hope I can carry on fooling her. And Esras and Icarus. Not sure if they'd be overly pleased if they realised I've fallen in love with her.
I think.
Jesus, I need a drink. |
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[Oct. 29th, 2008|11:55 am] |
Of all the examinations Ben performed, by far his most lucrative consultations were those for which there was no examination, just a quickly-written prescription. It was amazing how much those slips of paper were worth both to him and to the "patients" for whom they were issued.
Of course, not all of the military were bent, not by a long way. Enough were prepared to pay under the table, however, that Ben was now building a pretty little nest egg for himself. What he'd do with it he still didn't know. Maybe just clear out to somewhere less... like this damn place. Maybe he'd use it to build a monument to Sara so tall that the damn Candidate could see it from wherever she was in her ivory bloody tower.
Maybe he'd just keep it. Watch it grow while he supplied whoever could pay his price with slow poisons so they'd die a damn sight slower and in more pain than Sara did.
Yeah. Maybe he'd do that.
Or, you know, he could blow some of it on a hooker. He'd had worse ideas, after all.
He checked the time. Five minutes to his next appointment. He got out his prescription pad, sat at his desk and waited for the door to open. |
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sore
awake