baals | (no subject)

Hiding on Earth turned out to be quite the productive endeavor for Ba'al. He fit in absurdly easily in the world of business. While expanding into the business world he likewise expanded into the criminal world.

In the business world he's known as Hannibal Hadad. His holdings, which started in an areo-space company, expanded into real-estate, construction and string of electronics retailers.

In the criminal world he's known as simply The Boss. His criminal network, stretches into the usual suspects of guns, drugs and smuggling.

Spread across both the business and the criminal side are oddities. On their own, they just seem strange. Together, something big is being built. Something high tech. It could be anything from missiles to fighter jets. Whatever it is he's taking great pains that the government and the larger criminal underworld don't know what he's doing.

Seeing as he's making an effort to hid it. He shouldn't let the recently hired undercover FBI agent anywhere near himself or anything important. He could just feed him false leads down the chain. But... quite frankly, he's bored.

After a couple months, he calls him to his office. Enough time passed to not be suspicious and give Mike time to make a reasonable impression.

Ba'al's office is a modern minimalist style. All clean lines and simple shapes. No unnecessary furniture. As for himself, he's always wearing some designer suit or another. He's standing and looking over some papers on his desk when Mike enters. The papers are Mike's personnel file.

"Ah, yes. It's good to finally meet you. Michael, is it? Or Mike?" He holds out a hand to shake, which he won't last too long or too briefly. "You've been doing excellent work under Johnathan."

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There's the familiar urge to punch Mike in the face. He doesn't, but it's oh so tempting. More so when it seems like Mike might take a swing. He pushes all that down. If Mike won't calm down and think rationally -- he has to try.

Briggs reaches out to grab Mike's arm and pull him closer. "Whatever he's done to you--" said low enough that only Mike, and no listening devices, can hear it. He hopes anyway. "--It's why I'm not leaving you here. Kill me if you have to."

The moment Briggs touches him, Mike jerks his arm away. With the drugs setting his nerves on high alert, even that touch was electric. Too much and not enough at the same time. This close, his body was demanding things of him. Methods of quick satisfaction that he logically knew he couldn't have, but his body didn't always respond to logic.

"And how would that look, hm? He'd make sure the footage leaked to just the right sources. I go down as a murder on the run, and even if he brings you back, how're you going to explain that when there's footage of me killing you?!" He wasn't keeping his voice down, gesturing boldly at the camera.

"That's what you're worried about?" Briggs actually manages a short laugh. "Jesus, Mike..."

With the adrenaline starting to subside, it's getting difficult for him to stand. "Let's... Let's just focus on surviving this, all right?" He rather clumsy makes it back to the bed with a pained groan. He's done arguing for now. And as much as he'd like to ignore his pained erection, he has to at least touch it now and then to keep the worse symptoms at bay.

The moment Briggs makes that sound, Mike turns away. He seems to be pacing at first, but he stops before making a return trip. He stands with his arms sternly folded, his back to the bed. He's once again placed himself between the man and the camera to give him some sense of privacy.

He doesn't say anything. His own adrenaline is still running too high. He taps his fingers against his biceps, running over everything. Again and again. Trying to see some angle he's missed. Something to use against their captor. All while staring defiantly at the camera. But without Briggs to yell at, the pressure of his pants grows more and more distracting. Like a fog creeping over his mind. No. He needs to focus. There has to be a way to out think their captor. He's arrogant and smarmy. Smart, but the sort to underestimate people. There has to be a way out. They can't break down the door, but...

Before the idea was even fully formed, he was moving for the closet. Digging through the items in there. Looking for anything involving electricity, or batteries. If he turns up nothing, he'll try prying into the camera. If a door's lock can be engaged remotely it can be overridden.

Given the nature of the room, there's no shortage of the electrically powered devices in the closet. Most are battery operated but a few of the larger ones have cords. It's best not to think about what any of them are usually used for.

The noise of the searching gets Briggs attention. For a second, he wonders if Mike has just lost it then he realizes what he's doing. It's a magnetic lock. That means electric current keeps it engaged. Something else occurs to him... he's going to need to use one of those toys and keep it on, if he plans on going anywhere. Fuck.

He drags himself to his feet and over to the closet. After a quick survey, he picks up the least intrusive looking vibrator. "Fuck," he grumbles, mostly to himself.