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Taym launched into another half-jog to catch her free arm and slow her down, shooting her a look but saying nothing. There was in it something of a field in the rain, and something of a city underneath Russia, and maybe the truth was somewhere halfway in the middle.

Slowing, America shot him a frustrated look that softened as she caught his own. She gave an almost imperceptible nod before following where Peyton had pointed. What they came upon was two men stripped to the waist and covered in dirt and sweat, walking back toward the dorms. Giving them a wave, she turned to the other girl, eyebrows up and speculative. Even in this tense moment that involved a possible life or death situation, America Jones took the time to silently ask her Eclipse partner if she was gonna try and tap that later and without a word convey her approval if the blonde chose to do so.

Clearing her through she turned to give Taym a reasonably serious look, "Well, we know it works at least." Which was good because the screen stayed empty of new dots for several minutes after.

He was opening his mouth to make some acerbic commentary when the watch flickered a single dot that blipped into and out of visibility in a way that could only be described as ominous, and he closed his eyes with an expression of longsuffering.

He turned the ring around and around his finger, smooth silver and discolored metal in turns, and then with a disgusted noise clambered down the path. And here, even here, even now, the thought of those trackers settled into his head and he found himself, for a split second, once again wondering how he might one day outsmart them.

It wasn't a thought had much time to entertain. They arrived at the cave to a scene like something out of a European torture-porn flick (not that the parallel would have occurred to Taym), and he didn't even bother repeating the noise, barely glanced at the human wreckage, just took a second to scan the scene for the presence of Lawrence. Without a word he gestured at Horace with a glance at America and stationed himself at the entrance, watching it but hidden from anyone else who might follow them down the path, his back to the scene, trembling from head to foot.

Fiona flickered into his hand for a moment, just long enough for his fingers to close around the hilt, and then away. America knew intimately, and Peyton knew a little, that Taym did not believe in the use of his weapon in personal fights--only in defense of the organization or human life. It was a stance he'd always held but one that he'd doubled down on since the disastrous incident with Rep in the infirmary with Fiona singing in his ear and Taym, friendless and alone and crazed with anger at the unfairness of the entire ******** universe, nearly tempted into ruin.

The knife returned. Visibly and wordlessly Taym warred with the question of whether this was, any longer, a personal rage or something larger. This time the weapon stayed.

Pey was a quick moving shadow on Taym's heels as he made his way down the path, and when they reached the cave it was sheer willpower that kept her from simply rushing in blindly. They didn't know what was in there, they didn't know if the blip on the watch had been Lawrence alone(and the implications of that were hard to look at. They meant the worst had happened, that they'd be taking back a body, she shoved the thought away). She edged closer, stayed with the group, and a second sharp breath echoed America's as pale eyes landed on the scene in the cave. "Jesus..."

Taym took up post at the entrance, and the girls hurried forward.

Pey was digging in her hip bag before her knees even hit the ground, and she handed them over to America, eyes a little too wide, gaze glued on the ruin of Horace's chest. She blinked as her eclipse partner spoke, head jerking up, and there too was a moment of flick of thought, an awful curiosity as her gaze dropped inexplicably to the other girl's chest before she was tearing it away and calling to Taym for his bandages.

When he tossed them she caught them, handing them over, then crawled around towards Horace's bound hands, holding his arms steady as America cut through the ropes. That left the cuffs. "Can you snap those by yourself, Mer?" If not, Warrick might work.

Her hands were shaking against Horace's arms, a fine trembling he may or may not feel as she slid cool fingers up and down his arms, tried to get the blood flowing, but more than that, tried to offer some sliver of comfort. "You're safe." It was soft, and one small hand lifted from his arm to brush the hair from his face as gently as she were able, as if he might break. He'd been through enough. "We've got you, you're safe now. "

In the murmuring quiet Taym agonized and he hesitated and then, brusque and quick and sudden, he turned his back on the cave entrance long enough to interrupt Peyton and America's ministrations, to grab America's arm again but this time with purpose, stripping the watch off her arm and turning it back on, juggling it into the hand not occupied with his weapon.

He'd barely made it two steps back towards the entrance when he stopped, fixed on the screen.

"Keep talking," he said, very very quietly and without moving. "And leave his ******** gag on."

Ready to snap at the sudden grab, America held it when she realized Taym was taking over the watch. Going back to the ropes, the girl methodically cut through them, not rushing this part at all. The handcuffs would come off last. As she went, she talked low to Horace in counter point to Peyton's comforting noises, nodding at Taym's order.

There was no heat or venom or cheer in her tone, America could have been reading the phone book for all the excitement her voice held. "Well, you're exactly as stupid a little ******** as I pegged you for. This is what we meant by willful ignorance. This is what you get for ignoring the truth, for twisting it into something harmless. You woulda seen it sooner if you'd been willing to, 'cause the signs were all there. I told you he carved into my chest and you treated it like some petty argument between exes, like I held an unreasonable grudge, but here you are. And the funny part is I still don't know if you actually get it. If you won't just turn this around into something that holds him up in a shining light and find a way to blame it all on me instead of him, 'cause that's how you seem to work. You're just a boy," she went on, almost gentle and finally noticing the injured hand as she slipped a pin from her hair. "Maybe even more of one than his boy. Mikael knows what his father is, and that's another sign you ignored, isn't it? You talk to him like he's stupid but at least he knows when the monster is looking at him."

The pin, bent into shape, slipped into the lock of the handcuffs and America set to work on them. "For what it's worth I guess that makes you sorta his perfect match, the most willing victim he's probably ever had." No luck, just yet, and so she fell quiet as she focused on them.

C'mon you ********>