After a few minutes of becoming used to the twin distractions of his recent stabbing and his recent kidnapping, not to mention a generous amount of sedative force-fed to him after he'd screamed and thrashed a little too long and too violently for anyone to appreciate, Ben felt calm enough to take in his surroundings. First, the Hugh next to him, hunched over in a slowly expanding pool of his own blood. He seemed to be holding most of it in and it seemed unlikely that he of all people would die, so Ben paid him no further heed for the moment. Item of interest the second consisted of Freeman and the pilot, sitting up front. Freeman turned to check on the two in the back every few seconds and was holding something Ben hadn't seen before but presumed to be a gun by its general gunnish shape and the gunlike respect that Freeman was offering to it. Ben decided to follow suit. The pilot was particularly bland, considering. Ben envied his leg-space. Item three, Ben. Ben knew Ben pretty well, and aside from the stab wound in his thigh (outer, thank cripes), there didn't seem to be a lot going on there, so Ben decided to pass Ben over for the most part. Fourth and finally, lots of blue outside of the helicopter. Better, Ben supposed, than lots of brown or what have you, but still not very encouraging for the whole "escape" idea.
Ben tried to formulate a plan, but found his attempts to think slowed by the throbbing pain in his leg and the continuous "whup whup whup whup" reverberating in his ears.
"Could you stop that?" Ben asked Hugh.
"Stop the whupping, whup whup whup?"
"Yeah. It's incredibly distracting."
"Whup whup whup whup. I read somewhere that it helps to take your mind off when you've got an ache, and I thought it might help here, whup whup whup whup."
"Really?"
"Yup!"
"Whup whup whup whup."
"Whup whup whup whup."
"Knock it off, you two," Freeman advised.
"Or what, you'll stab us again?" Hugh challenged, clearly not having noticed from his vantage point the gunlike gun that Freeman was waving in a gunnerly manner.
"No, I'll shoot you through the head and you'll die." Freeman obligingly held it up.
"Okay then."
"There's parachutes under here," Ben mentioned to his continuing companion sotto vocce. "Well, parachute."
"Great! We're saved!"
"I'll just stick it on and get help!"
"What?"
"What?"
"I'll jump out the door here, and -"
"You're just going to abandon me?"
"I'm not abandoning you. Look, you've still got some friends to hang out with."
"Our stabber and our kidnapper?"
"How many other guys have you had inside of you?"
"Aren't you scared of heights, anyway?"
"Yeah, but I've been stabbed in the leg."
"What?"
"What?"
"If you jump out and pull the cord, your intestines and stuff will keep going. It'll be impressive to look at, but not so useful for getting help."
"As opposed to you, who'll just keep sliding up to the door and keep going 'on the count of three, for real this time' until we land and get executed by whoever set all this up."
"Whup whup whup whup."
"Whup whup whup whup."
"I mean it, you two," Freeman advised.
"You could push me out," Ben continued a moment later.
"With this stomach?"
"Better than me pushing you out and holding onto your bowel until you get back."
"Look, I could pull the straps across like this and keep everything inside."
"Or I could go and just rely on this newfangled 'skin' thing I picked up somewhere."
"Right, up until it explodes because you panicked halfway down and forgot to pull the cord."
"Look, just give me the parachute."
"No, you give me the -"
"Let me take -"
"And now it's gone out the window."
"Yeah. Thanks for that."
"That was completely your fault."
"I won't dignify that with a response."
"Good, because I wouldn't deign to hear it."
"Now what?"
"Hope that this place we're going to has a good surgeon handy?"
"Oh, great, we're wandering into the volcanic lair of an evil mastermind and hoping he has a doctor who'll stitch us together without throwing an extra arm on for the hell of it."
"Are there even volcanoes in Victoria?"
"The point is, we're rooted."
"I don't think it's that bad. Knowing our history it'll just be Schmid wanting to invite us to a soiree."
"What sort of a soiree do you think Schmid would have?"
"...We're rooted."
"We're rooted."
"Goodbye, Hugh."
"Goodbye, Ben."
"We're here," Freeman added.
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