MOAR PHASES. But longer ones, I promise. :D Enjoy guys!

14th of April, 2012. Scotland

When the storm had passed, after Vidic had vented his wrath on employees, equipment and himself and everyone had watched, new plans swung into action. The employees dragged themselves back to their desks and tried to forget what they had seen. The thought to check the damage in the basement only occurred an hour later, and it was a further hour until Shaun and Rebecca were dragged from the rubble, just about breathing, but alive and thus ready to be put to work again. They were given new electronic bracelets and were led away in opposite directions after one desperate look to each other that said 'will I ever see you again?'

The guards did their best to ignore it.

Stillman was looked in upon – the prison had held up well during the attack, and a guard was reinstated at the door. No one seemed to notice the woman curled up in a tiny ball at the bottom of her box, her hands fisted in her hair as though she might tear it out.

And, with some difficulty, Subject Seventeen was sedated and put back in the Animus as soon as it was repaired – all Vidic's orders. He knew where the TARDIS had gone. He knew what it meant for all he had worked for since 2005.
'Find him,' he had hissed to the workers as they took up their keyboards. 'Drag every last memory out of him until you see that blasted Doctor.'

The tapping of keys had peppered their fear.

And McDonald was ordered into his own office – which had been commandeered by Vidic wordlessly, and stood in front of the man himself and did his best not to look terrified. It wasn't his fault that Miles had gone loopy and pulled himself out of that fucking thing – Vidic couldn't say anything, couldn't touch him.
Or so he hoped to any damn god that might be listening.
Vidic's rage had been spent on what was left of the contents of the office after Hastings had been at it. The employees installing a new computer while Vidic nursed a brandy didn't look only afraid, but were slightly doubtful that their effort would be worth the while. Vidic didn't look up at McDonald, not until the employees screwed the last screw, hurried out and shut the door behind them, thanking God that they weren't that poor bastard. It was another good couple of minutes before Vidic said anything at all.

'Why did Subject Seventeen wake up, Darren?'

McDonald wasn't prepared for that one. 'Uh, sir?'

'I'm not stupid, McDonald. Why did Desmond Miles wake up during the BADWOLF programme?'

'I don't know – maybe a fault in the Animus? Maybe he wasn't sedated enough? How was I supposed to know? Ask the staff – it's their fault. They should know.'

'Hmm,' Vidic rolled the brandy around the glass, downed it, and stood up – placing his hands on the desk and giving McDonald a level look. 'Maybe it is the staff's fault. But who employed the staff, hmm? Who did that?'
Shit, he'd got McDonald there. But McDonald was one member of the human race akin to many – the automatic response to pressure or to danger was to get cocky.

'Uh, Stacey from HR?'

It wasn't the best survival trait evolution had provided.

'It was YOU!' Vidic's fist came down on the table, knocking the glass over so it cracked on the table and made McDonald start violently. 'It was you who hired these people, you who I thought capable of running this place, and it was you who was meant to make sure everything went to plan! And guess what, McDonald – it hasn't. And do you know whose to blame?'

McDonald didn't need to take a guess at this one.

'Me, sir.'

'Yes. You. You incompetent fool,' Vidic hissed, sitting back down heavily in McDonalds seat – his seat. 'Billions of dollars worth of equipment damaged – nearly twice as much to repair it. We don't have that kind of money, McDonald. It'll have to be paid eventually.'

'You're a bloody secret organisation! Aren't you meant to have caves somewhere with gold piled up to the ceiling and butlers with fucking jewel encrusted balls? Its not my fault the thing broke!'

'We may be secret, but we sure as hell aren't rich!' Vidic's face was changing colour, and his voice was rising again. 'The blame has to fall somewhere, and it falls on you. Get the funds from TORCHOOD HQ.'

'What? Are you out of your mind? London wouldn't transfer a billion quid to us just like that!'

'I don't care. If you don't get those funds, you'll face much worse than just being out of a job, I assure you.'

'But – '

'Get out of my sight, McDonald.'

McDonald was sure to slam the door of his old office behind him.

Onwards, friends! :D