Shepard could actually smile, for that, if she wanted to. Oh, it was strange being on the other side of one of these terrible moments, these life and death decisions. Almost relaxing, really; she didn't have to think, didn't have to weigh the moment in her mind like the whole billion-body future bearing down on her shoulders.
"Alright, since you're asking. In about...oh, two minutes, I'm going finish up here, and this thing will be ready go. Remote detonator," Surely he understood that that as likely as anything meant a short fuse-- the Capitol had never had any trouble wasting lives for the sake of expedience, after all, "When I'm done, I am going to have to turn around, and the body-cam on my vest is going to make your presence here undeniable. I will at that time be obligated to kill you."
All she had to do was talk; and that much, she was good at. She could talk a pyjack out of a tree. She could talk the krogan out of a war, and a good man into a bullet in the skull.
She hoped.
"...and in about two minutes after that, this building will become a fireball that'll burn all week, unless..." Shepard clipped a wire and the snap of her pliers was loud in the tense silence, drawing out the seconds, ramping up the tension. Strange; she'd never felt more free in her life, than this moment, "...You put a bullet in my head, and cut the orange wire. So what I'm saying here is, you need to make it a clean shot, Sam. You can do that for me, right?"
no subject
"Alright, since you're asking. In about...oh, two minutes, I'm going finish up here, and this thing will be ready go. Remote detonator," Surely he understood that that as likely as anything meant a short fuse-- the Capitol had never had any trouble wasting lives for the sake of expedience, after all, "When I'm done, I am going to have to turn around, and the body-cam on my vest is going to make your presence here undeniable. I will at that time be obligated to kill you."
All she had to do was talk; and that much, she was good at. She could talk a pyjack out of a tree. She could talk the krogan out of a war, and a good man into a bullet in the skull.
She hoped.
"...and in about two minutes after that, this building will become a fireball that'll burn all week, unless..." Shepard clipped a wire and the snap of her pliers was loud in the tense silence, drawing out the seconds, ramping up the tension. Strange; she'd never felt more free in her life, than this moment, "...You put a bullet in my head, and cut the orange wire. So what I'm saying here is, you need to make it a clean shot, Sam. You can do that for me, right?"