He has to suppress yet another shudder as they move deeper into the facility, taking stock of the steady increase of security with a sinking heart. He'd been nursing the fragile hope that he could try to get Seth out now but it's not looking favorable.
Of course, that's no guarantee that Daniel won't try regardless.
He enters the cell after only a minute of hesitation. The interior of this place is, if possible, even unfriendlier than that of the interrogation area. Somehow the minimal effort they applied to make it more personal simply backfired; the stack of books doubtless meant to serve as his sole form of entertainment are just a perverse reminder of how little power Seth has here. It's all engineered submission.
Daniel sucks in a tight breath as the weighted door slams shut behind him - for maximal security purposes he guesses, but it still triggers a prickle of unease. Whether that's for Seth's sake or his own is unclear. He sucks in a preparative breath, the air chilled and painful in his lungs, takes in the spartan accommodations in one flick of his eyes, and jabs his hands into his pockets in a pointless attempt to warm them.
"Hi," he says unnecessarily, and it strikes him that there's a very real possibility that this room is being monitored. Whatever he says to Seth, it has to be discreet. Daniel is not excellent at discreet.
"J-19," he tries again, hating that he has to say it, working to keep his tone light and conversational. As far as anyone here knows, they don't know each other and Daniel should continue acting as such. "Your file said your name is 'Seth'. Can I call you Seth?"
Which is a perfectly normal thing to ask. Familiarizing oneself with an individual in an interrogative situation is a perfectly natural tactic. It creates an emotional bond to make negotiations easier. The people here should know that.
no subject
Of course, that's no guarantee that Daniel won't try regardless.
He enters the cell after only a minute of hesitation. The interior of this place is, if possible, even unfriendlier than that of the interrogation area. Somehow the minimal effort they applied to make it more personal simply backfired; the stack of books doubtless meant to serve as his sole form of entertainment are just a perverse reminder of how little power Seth has here. It's all engineered submission.
Daniel sucks in a tight breath as the weighted door slams shut behind him - for maximal security purposes he guesses, but it still triggers a prickle of unease. Whether that's for Seth's sake or his own is unclear. He sucks in a preparative breath, the air chilled and painful in his lungs, takes in the spartan accommodations in one flick of his eyes, and jabs his hands into his pockets in a pointless attempt to warm them.
"Hi," he says unnecessarily, and it strikes him that there's a very real possibility that this room is being monitored. Whatever he says to Seth, it has to be discreet. Daniel is not excellent at discreet.
"J-19," he tries again, hating that he has to say it, working to keep his tone light and conversational. As far as anyone here knows, they don't know each other and Daniel should continue acting as such. "Your file said your name is 'Seth'. Can I call you Seth?"
Which is a perfectly normal thing to ask. Familiarizing oneself with an individual in an interrogative situation is a perfectly natural tactic. It creates an emotional bond to make negotiations easier. The people here should know that.