<strong> Scientist, Carl Dodd </strong><br/><strong> Prisoner Processing Facility </strong><br/><br/>Carl grumbled.  He'd arrived back at the processing facility, but apparently too late.  The guards had already left with the prisoners.  An attendant was straightening a few things up, and completing paperwork.  Bartlett, it appeared, had been taken by Popov to her assigned cell.  Walking up to one of the panels on the wall, he authenticated and sent a message out to Popov...<strong> :: Take Bartlett to my personal quarters.  You are cleared for a onetime entry.  Put her INSIDE, then stand guard OUTSIDE at the door.  I will be there shortly. :: </strong><br/><br/>He sighed again - that was becoming a pattern today, as he began walking back to his quarters again.  It felt like it was the fiftieth time he'd walked this way in the last couple of hours.  No matter.  But he needed something to help him focus, so instead of heading directly back, he detoured and went to the commissary - Coffee... that's what he needed... and he didn't feel like brewing it himself.<br/><br/>The girl could wait and stew for a while - probably spending her time poking through his stuff, and Popov had nothing else better to do.  He wasn't concerned about her finding anything, of course.  If there was one thing he'd learned from Dad, it was to keep important things under a very secure lock & key.  So he took his time, poured himself a cup of the standard witches-brew-special, splashed in a bit of Bourbon from the flask he carried in his pocket, and sat down for a few minutes.  If he had to walk BACK to the processing facility one more time, he was gonna have to take it out on someone...  Maybe he'd have Marissa killed - the dammed bitch was always giving him trouble anyway - would Dad really be<em>THAT</em>mad if he offed her?