“Fuck!” Sierra turned to kick the side of Bryce’s bed. “Is that supposed to be an excuse? No way he gets off that easy! He joined them, you said! He wasn’t brainwashed when he fucking decided to go with him!”
And there we go. We’ve got her convinced, and the anger is turned in the proper direction. Now it’s a matter of toning it down.
She kicked the bed again, hard enough that it shifted an inch or two away from her.
Is John Cleese still in the room? I can’t imagine he’d approve of this.
I could see the Doctor start forward in response to the assault on his furniture and patient, but Minor, Jaw and Fish moved first.
Yeah, he didn’t like that one bit.
“Guys, stop,” I ordered.
They did. It was kind of strange, to have people listening to me.
Nice.
Sierra turned and saw the soldiers, and I could see emotions flicker across her face.
Which ones? Fear, realization that she just became a threat, that kind of thing?
“He’s not getting off easy,” I said, “He lost most of his hand. I’m not a doctor, but he might lose the rest, depending on how the circulation is.”
Oof, yeah. I think that’s enough punishment for his bad choices.
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