Clint received an all clear four hours later. He watched the charts as they received new data. The little lines moved up and down. He was tired. His stomach churned the longer he had time to think. He knew realistically this plan had a low success rate. It was still the best chance. What’s the worst that could happen? He thought. His brain answered, death. Agonizing death.
The entirety of the plan had consisted of shutting the facilities down. It was a half baked plan at best, but he didn’t want to just outright say that. He waited until the others had left, and Dallas started dozing off beside him in the chairs they found. The older man deliberately sat between him and Connie. Clint smiled at his new friend. Not a lot of people cared that much.
Finally he could speak, “you know this probably isn’t going to work, right?”
Connie peered over the papers she was reading, “if we just stop at shutting them down then you’re probably right,” not moving from her position on her chair.