Before Calavicci could protest, he was off the ground. Struggling for leverage and the ground and god, oxygen, the young astronaut-hopeful was forced to drop everything he'd hoped to take with him in favor of kicking and flailing for escape. "Put me down," he croaked, but Gibbons wasn't interested.
Bingo's face pushed the door open, much to his dismay, and feeling dizzied, he couldn't quite find the strength to fight back for a good, long moment. He saw, ahead, the unhappy faces of several higher ranking officers. Their synchronized gestures must have registered with Gibbons, who dropped Bingo immediately. Even before Calavicci found his footing, the larger man shoved his shoulder and jabbed a meaty finger at the younger lieutenant. "You'd BETTER fix this, Bing-O."
Al did a forced spin and stumbled backward away from his study partner and toward the officers, hands held aloft. "Whoa, hey, fix what?" But Gibbons had disappeared back inside. The young lieutenant turned on his heel, eyes narrowed at the three men gathered. Two stood outside a black sedan, one sat in the driver's seat. "Fix what?" He asked again, more demanding. Calavicci suddenly realized just who he was talking to and straightened up. "Sirs." An unhappy addendum, no salute present.
"Get in, lieutenant." Al's Commander, Stern, gestured to the back door. The driver turned in his seat and started the car, and the Captain accompanying them went around to the other side and hopped up front.
Calavicci looked hesitant. "But, sir, the bus is gonna leave and--"
Stern sighed, lips pressed tightly together. He lifted an arm to gesture him along. "Son, you don't have a choice."
Al looked stricken. He felt... well, he felt angry. And upset, and worried, and a little bit sick. But he followed the lead and ducked down into the dark car with tinted windows. Sliding over to the opposite window, he fought the urge to chew on his knuckle. The scrutiny he was receiving from the front seat didn't help.
The Commander closed the door once he was in, and then they began to move almost immediately. His hat came off, and he ran a hand through his hair. Stern sighed again.
"Sir, I believe I'm due an explanation." Calavicci finally forced out something that wouldn't get him court martial.
The captain in the front seat cleared his throat. "Lieutenant, do you recall meeting a woman? About six weeks ago..."
"I meet lotsa women, pal. What's this about?" Al shot the man a glare, blatantly insubordinate. Bingo was right back at Pensacola, still green and staring at charges of rape that would end his career and his life. He'd thought all of that was behind him. The last time he'd even thought about it, he was drinking in New Mexico with...
"Kara Thrace." Stern's voice, this time.
Bingo didn't turn, but they would have had to be blind not to see his face go from red to white so quickly. He crossed his arms, sat back, and stared out the window purposefully.
///
The room where they kept her was, like most, behind a half-wall of one-way glass. Completely dark, save for the light over the table in the center, it served as a typical interrogation room.
Al stepped in, unprepared and mostly shadowed. The door locked behind him. "You're in some big trouble, Captain," he said, wearily. Her hair was longer. She looked tan. Something about that rolled around in his head and made him a little happy. Even felt that little jolt in his stomach, but he wasn't certain at that moment if it was from seeing her or contemplating the end of his career with NASA and the Navy.
no subject
Bingo's face pushed the door open, much to his dismay, and feeling dizzied, he couldn't quite find the strength to fight back for a good, long moment. He saw, ahead, the unhappy faces of several higher ranking officers. Their synchronized gestures must have registered with Gibbons, who dropped Bingo immediately. Even before Calavicci found his footing, the larger man shoved his shoulder and jabbed a meaty finger at the younger lieutenant. "You'd BETTER fix this, Bing-O."
Al did a forced spin and stumbled backward away from his study partner and toward the officers, hands held aloft. "Whoa, hey, fix what?" But Gibbons had disappeared back inside. The young lieutenant turned on his heel, eyes narrowed at the three men gathered. Two stood outside a black sedan, one sat in the driver's seat. "Fix what?" He asked again, more demanding. Calavicci suddenly realized just who he was talking to and straightened up. "Sirs." An unhappy addendum, no salute present.
"Get in, lieutenant." Al's Commander, Stern, gestured to the back door. The driver turned in his seat and started the car, and the Captain accompanying them went around to the other side and hopped up front.
Calavicci looked hesitant. "But, sir, the bus is gonna leave and--"
Stern sighed, lips pressed tightly together. He lifted an arm to gesture him along. "Son, you don't have a choice."
Al looked stricken. He felt... well, he felt angry. And upset, and worried, and a little bit sick. But he followed the lead and ducked down into the dark car with tinted windows. Sliding over to the opposite window, he fought the urge to chew on his knuckle. The scrutiny he was receiving from the front seat didn't help.
The Commander closed the door once he was in, and then they began to move almost immediately. His hat came off, and he ran a hand through his hair. Stern sighed again.
"Sir, I believe I'm due an explanation." Calavicci finally forced out something that wouldn't get him court martial.
The captain in the front seat cleared his throat. "Lieutenant, do you recall meeting a woman? About six weeks ago..."
"I meet lotsa women, pal. What's this about?" Al shot the man a glare, blatantly insubordinate. Bingo was right back at Pensacola, still green and staring at charges of rape that would end his career and his life. He'd thought all of that was behind him. The last time he'd even thought about it, he was drinking in New Mexico with...
"Kara Thrace." Stern's voice, this time.
Bingo didn't turn, but they would have had to be blind not to see his face go from red to white so quickly. He crossed his arms, sat back, and stared out the window purposefully.
///
The room where they kept her was, like most, behind a half-wall of one-way glass. Completely dark, save for the light over the table in the center, it served as a typical interrogation room.
Al stepped in, unprepared and mostly shadowed. The door locked behind him. "You're in some big trouble, Captain," he said, wearily. Her hair was longer. She looked tan. Something about that rolled around in his head and made him a little happy. Even felt that little jolt in his stomach, but he wasn't certain at that moment if it was from seeing her or contemplating the end of his career with NASA and the Navy.