(no subject)

[bring_a_sponge]

Zed is sitting in one of the booths, and the table in front of him is covered with printouts. "Blueprints" doesn't quite seem appropriate. Better to call them "blackprints."

Zed is both studying and not studying them. Not studying them because, really, he knows the layout of MiB Headquarters by heart. But it's been a while since he had to retake the facility from an enemy force, and he's never had to do it against something as insidious as Black Oil.

So he's studying them. Planning tactics. And drinking whiskey. But mostly planning.

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/]

"I never saw anything," Jack adds, almost pouting as he takes a seat. "And I have the highest security clearance there is. You don't work for the NID, do you?"

[bring_a_sponge]

Zed huffs. "No. My bureau isn't with the government. Governments ask too many questions. And never the right ones."

"Have you heard the basics yet? End of the Universe? Rules of the Bar?"