"You wanna tell me what's going on now, partner?" barked Lionel after they were escorted into a small windowless room, without furniture or any amenities. The only thing present was a camera in the upper right corner, red light on, watching...watching. "What the hell was that guy going on about? What's Samaritan?"

Reese continued to survey the area with the hopes of discovering some structural weakness that he could punch his way through. There wasn't any of course.

"Hey, man, talk to me!" Lionel demanded, grabbing his arm, turning him around so that they were facing each other.

By now he figured Lionel deserved the truth. It was surprising actually that he had put up with all of the secrecy for so long. Only the truly loyal could do that. Nice to know some people were still capable of that.

This discussion would likely take awhile so Reese decided to get comfortable. Since there was no place to sit except for the cold ground, he settled for leaning against the concrete wall, his back to the camera, arms folded.

"Samaritan is an A.I. The government has been duped into using it for Research. Greer gives them just enough info to take out the terrorist threats." Reese almost smiled. Almost. "Or at least what they claim are terrorist threats."

"Holy hell," replied Lionel, even more wide eyed than before. "You mean that surveillance shits real? I always thought it was just a crack pot conspiracy theory!"

"The people we help...the numbers we receive are from an earlier A.I. called The Machine."

"Real creative name."

"Finch built it."

"Well, that explains it." Fusco chuckled, shaking his head. "What, is it supposed to be like Frankenstein's monster or something? Never even bothered to give his creation a real goddamn name?"

Reese didn't respond.

Seeing his stony expression, Lionel became serious again and processed these revelations for a bit. "Wait, so Northern Lights was something Finch was involved with?"

"Yup."

He still seemed confused. "But if the government already had big brother under their control, why'd they switch to Samaritan?"

"You mean besides that whole scandal going down?"

"Oh yeah, almost forgot about that." Lionel rubbed his furrowed brow in a circular motion. "If it caused them a monster headache like I got right now, why'd they take up another A.I.?"

"Finch crippled The Machine. Made it impossible to get complete access. Samaritan offered that to them."

"Except it didn't. Again."

"Yeah, but they don't know that. They think we're the terrorists."

Incredulous, "How are any of you still alive then? You got some Harry Potter invisibility cloak I don't know about?"

"Harry Potter?" said Reese with a lip curl, contempt written all across his face like Alan Rickman.

Where are all these pop culture references coming from all of a sudden? he thought.

"What?" Lionel said shrugging. "Lee loves that crap." He chuckled again. "Especially that dumbass Quidditch game. Pretends to fly around on a broom with his friends all the time. Wish he'd just use it to clean the apartment. It's filthy!"

They just stared at each other for several moments.

"Cover identities, Lionel, cover identities."

"So that's why you suddenly got the urge to join the-"

Just in time, Reese's eyes flashed in warning. Then he nudged his head slightly towards the camera. Lionel cleared his throat, apologetic looking. "Shoulda known it was something like that." After a brief pause he threw his hands up. "I still don't get what's going on."

Reese sighed. "Samaritan and The Machine are battling for dominance of the city...of the world."

Stunned silence and then:

"So...if Samaritan wins we're all screwed? That about sums it up?"

Reese nodded. "That's all you really needed to know."

"Thanks for filling me in anyway."

He shrugged. "Sure thing, Lionel." As cheerfully as he ever sounded, "We'll probably be dead before the day is out."

"Not if we join them." Reese just glared at him, too furious to respond. Lionel turned his back to the camera too and hunched up beside him. "We don't have to mean it partner," he whispered. "We just need to say we're with them..."

Yeah like that will really work, he thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"...until we can figure a way out of here. I bet that's what Shaw is up to too."

"Not likely," he replied, still glowering. "Her cover was blown. She was tired of sitting on the sidelines, letting me handle everything. It's probably why she threw herself into the line of fire. Wanted to go down in a blaze of glory. Too bad it didn't work."

"Come on, Reese, we both know that's not why she did it."

In response, Reese made a non-committal sound and crossed his arms even tighter to his chest, as if he could squeeze all of his rage out that way.

"I don't care why she did it. Or what you think she's up to. I'm not joining them."

The camera light blinked, watching...watching.

With surprising ease Root discreetly broke into the blue Toyota Prius before them. Vaguely Harold wondered just how many vehicles she had boosted since becoming The Machine's primary asset and how many individuals' hard earned money had been destroyed shortly thereafter.

She grinned at him and said, "She says I drive."

"Did you?" he asked The Machine, with a frown.

"Negative."

Root pouted. "Oh come on! I've been chained up like an animal for months!" A passing pedestrian gave them an odd look but kept on walking into the night, albeit with hurried steps. A lengthy pause later, "Fine."

She stepped away from the drivers side and he sat down there in her stead. Harold fumbled around for a few minutes before he managed to get the engine running. The Machine apparently didn't want to help him. Root just sat there in sullen silence. It was many lights before conversation resumed.

"Ms. Groves," he began tentatively. "About your incarceration...I was loathe to do such a thing to you after you've been of such valiant assistance to our cause...but we could determine no other course of action."

"No need to explain, Harold," she said, staring out the window at the twinkling building lights. "I understand completely why you found it necessary."

He found that hard to believe.

Root pivoted, facing him. "My friends here" - she tapped her forehead - "became a little too vocal. Made me a very bad house guest."

"You are aware of the voices right now?" he enquired, grip tightening on the wheel.

He had hoped that would not be the case for some time yet.

"Of course, Harold," she replied with a sly smile. "Kind of hard to completely block them out when they are screaming at you."

Oh God.

"One of them is particularly foul mouthed and violent. Big fan of disembowelment." Root raised a hand to her face and whispered conspiratorially, "She's my favourite."

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

"Don't worry," she continued in a teasing manner. "She's got my back. We'll probably get the boys out of there before I try to kill you again. Probably."

"Probably," echoed The Machine.

Root laughed.

Harold quietly hyperventilated.

After her merriment subsided she put a hand to her stomach and said, "You know, Harold, I could really go for a nice juicy burger. Or several. Feel like I haven't eaten in weeks!"

"I don't doubt it, Ms. Groves. It was quite difficult to tend to your dietary needs." He was ashamed to say that his next remark was fuelled more by a sense of his own impending doom than that of the others. "However, I'm sure we have wasted enough time as it is and as such-"

"Feed Root."

Harold groaned internally, beginning to feel queasy. Root clasped her hands together and exclaimed, "I think I'll get extra bacon!"

For the record, I'm not Harry Potter bashing. I love that stuff. This is simply what the characters would likely feel about it. Plus it was too funny to pass up.

Anyone else think of 'I am Groot' with that last Machine command? No? Just me?