<div class="floatright">(http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSBadCQB7tH7yfWujsxz9qb8Xj3tkLgrm9Yg9Qp1SZLAqk7KOv3&amp;t=1)<strong><br/>Sara (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=150938.msg6869979#msg6869979)</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong> On Dom's bus<br/><strong>Summary:</strong> Radioing Dom<br/><strong>Tagged: </strong> Noah, Dom, Twitch, Mika<br/><hr/></div><br/>Sara was taken aback by the response crackling in from the radio. First in the unsettling calm of Dom's tone, and second in his surprising ability to distinguish her voice. She expected a tirade - sharp, venomous orders to get off the channel and get her ass back in her seat. The scientist was mentally prepared to respond to such an assault - it was expected. When confronted with the mere mention of her name, she was left inwardly scrambling for words. There was something about his composure that threatened her own, but she did her damnedest to tame her quivering vocal chords into mirroring the stability she'd encountered on the other end of the radio, speaking as concisely as possible.<br/><br/>"<strong>There's been an incident. Twitch is on the bus, high out of his mind. We have his gun.</strong>" A chill shot down her spine as she choked out those last four words as levelly as possible. "<strong>We could give it back but odds are he'd take out every last one of us.</strong>"<br/><br/>She could only hope the genuine risk of losing a number of his slaves were deter Dom from barking orders to return Twitch's firearm. Sara shot a quick apologetic glace back at Noah, a preemptive measure in case this risky maneuver blew up in both their faces.<br/><br/>"Just give back the gun! You're going to get us all fucking killed!" A slave shrieked, wide eyes darting between Noah and Sara.