Occams Razor

"...my office is right here." He gestures at a small tent with some filing cabinets, a typewriter, and a desk. Please don't hesitate to stop by, and I'll be happy to see what I can do to make this whole thing go by as quickly and painlessly as possible."

Kelsey follows the Deputy Director quietly, looking around the facilities. They were worse than she'd hoped, but, to be honest, all Kelsey could feel right now was relief. Relief that they were off the island, no longer getting shot at, or stabbed, or torn open by giant meat cleavers, or choking on the smell of disease, or watching their companions go mad, or running through the dark and getting cornered by demons or worse. Even relief that they were in quarantine, so that they would not spread whatever was on the island to the rest of the world. Kelsey didn't think any of them were infected, but it was good to take precautions. She expected they'd all be released with a clean bill of health, though she worried some for those among them who didn't have a pulse, or had poison in their veins, or had past trauma related to doctors. But they'd hack that bridge together with borrowed barges when they came to it.

"So, what happens now?" she asks Deputy Director White. "And, is there any chance you could requisition us some clean clothes?"

An eon ago, Kelsey wouldn't have spoken up. Lately, though, fear seemed an emotion best reserved for dealing with literal avatars of death. After the last 48 hours, nothing less seemed worth being intimidated by.

"Well, Miss, now we try to live our lives as best we can. Clothes... clothes... I'll see what I can do." He pulls out a small, ancient cassette recorder. "Cassie, remind me to look into ordering some clothes for these good people. Also laundry facilities. And parlor games, for when the nights get long. Possibly that variant of telephone/pictionary." He turns the recorder off.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure we've been properly introduced." He rises from his chair. "Miss...?"

"Kelsey. Kelsey Graham."

She shakes his hand, if it's offered. He's likely to notice she's one of the few people from the bus who doesn't seem to be armed in some way, though she hasn't let go of her medical bag.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. How'd you folks get out here so fast?"

Despite the situation, she can't help but have a smile on her face at the thought of them all sitting around playing telephone/pictionary.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Graham." (He shakes her hand--it's rude for a gentleman to offer to shake first, after all). "As to how we got out here so fast, well--when a private military contractor uses military ordinance on U.S. soil, the government tends to take notice. I personally was en route to Whisper Hill to work on a missing persons case. I happened to be in the area when I saw those folks in the white suits, and I've done what I can to defuse the situation. Coffee?" He motions at an aluminum urn and a stack of mugs.

"I'm glad you came," she says. "You can understand that all of us are just a mite jumpy, after almost being blown up and all."

Kelsey nods gratefully at the offer of coffee. "Yes, please. Thank you. Hey, you don't happen to have been heading up to work on the Millner case? I've been hearing a bit about that one lately."

"While I cannot comment on the details of an ongoing investigation, I can say that yes, I am looking into the disappearance of Ms. Millner. Sugar?"

"I didn't realize investigation was still ongoing. Thought it was a cold case." She smiles as he asks if she'd like sugar in her coffee. "Yes, thank you."

For a moment, Kelsey is quiet while she thinks of a way to change the subject. She doesn't want this nice man who might well be the only thing that prevented an unfortunate shoot-out between her companions and the FBI to feel pressured to give out classified information. On the other hand, all she can think of to talk about is the insane experience she had during the last two days, which she can't imagine for a moment anyone who wasn't there would believe.

"So, how much did you hear about what went down on the island?" she settles on at last.

"Not terribly much, I'm afraid. Something about an airstrike and a potential bioterrorism attack. That last was on pretty shakey evidence, though. I'm sure I'm missing quite a bit. What did happen over there, Ms. Graham?"

Kelsey opens her mouth, then closes it again, obviously trying to formulate a coherent answer.

"I don't know all of it. And I don't understand much of it I do know. Keeping that in mind, though, I'll tell you what I can." She takes a deep breath. "I was on a Greyhound bus on my way to Montreal. The bus had mechanical problems and ran out of gas, so we pulled onto the island...and then the bridge blew up behind us. I don't know who was responsible, or why, but a lot of people got trapped on the island. And it became very quickly apparent that something was wrong. There's some kind of radiation in the water around the island - again, I don't know how or why it got there, but it made the animals on the island dangerously sick and very aggressive. Our medical experts agree it isn't contagious to humans, though, and none of us drank the river water. And then we found that communication about the airstrike planned on the island - it's not clear who gave the order, or why they were trying to kill us all. I just know if we didn't get out of there when we did, things were going to go to hell fast."

She looks up at the Deputy Director, meeting his eyes. "If you find out anything that sheds any light on why we were attacked, will you let us know?"