"You promised her what?"
If for nothing else but the glorious rare sight of Lawson totallybeside herself, the crazy convict's presence has turned out invaluable, and Shepard savours every moment.
Sprawling on the chair while chewing on an energy bar – sixth or seventh after they left the Purgatory, and by the looks of her, definitely not the last – Jack sneers, not bothering to swallow first: "You heard, bitch. Your precious Cerberus files about me. You owe me that, you bastards. Every dirty little secret."
Taylor looks as if he wished to be at least ten feet underground and Lawson stutters something about "not possible" and what not, so Shepard leans his shoulder against the wall and folds his arms on his chest. "Really, what's the problem, Lawson? It's not like no-one knew already that you Cerberus guys take pleasure in drowning kittens, and I'm sure that you have plenty of inconsequential staff that can be thrown under the bus for the sake of the greater good, so what harm can come from letting her have the files? Isn't it just a small sacrifice for the success of the mission?"
He receives a murderous look before Lawson finally regains composure and nods stiffly. "I will prepare the files and access codes for her."
Jack bares her teeth in a feral grin, and Shepard briefly wonders what her personal score with Cerberus is… or what else there might be to find out. In a rush of adrenaline, he hears himself say: "Oh, and while you are at it, get me a copy, as well. I want me some fancy reading for beddy time, now that we're all buddy-buddy and such. You know what I want."
Lawson nods, stiffly and sharply, and the convict glances at him, her eyes narrowed, while Shepard deflects both their looks with a poker face.
One thing is certain: if he ever lives to carry out his reckoning with Cerberus, one hell of a biotic with a common grudge might come handy, provided that she doesn't blow the ship or herself first.
