After sliding the heavy bolts into their proper position, Victor turned around and watched Elijah, who sat at one of his ancient computer terminals, peering at something and, on occasion, typing on the keyboard.
Victor returned to his seat. He flipped open a magazine to which he paid little attention.
"Her blood is on my hands, Victor," Elijah spoke without looking away from the screen.
Victor folded the magazine and leaned forward. "Not yet. She is resilient. She may come out of this intact."
Elijah turned towards Victor. His hands were visibly shaking. "If she doesn't?"
Victor set down the magazine. "Then her sacrifice, though regrettable, will have been necessary. There is no better way."
The trembling had spread to his arms, and Elijah could sense tingling in his feet and legs as he reached into a drawer on the table, pulling out a small kit. Out of that he extracted a needle as his heart fluttered. He gingerly inserted the syringe into his thigh, depressing the plunger. He closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths. After a moment, the shaking slowed, then ceased altogether. When he opened his eyes, Victor was watching.
"My heart is weak," Elijah muttered. "Weak from sending others to complete what I lack the courage to do myself." He slowly shook his head. "What if we were wrong? What if this is all in vain? What if he is already gone?" There was no mistaking the malice in his voice.
Victor looked away for a moment. "Do you remember your mother?"
Elijah closed his eyes, painful memories washing over him. "How can I forget?" he whispered.
Victor stood, crossing to the far wall. His tone was almost his accustomed passive, but Elijah knew him well enough to hear the tinges of emotion in it. "I remember her very well. I remember what she- what both of you did for me." He turned his intense gaze back towards Elijah. "It is the very reason you remain alive."
Elijah's eyes flooded with tears. "Victor…"
Victor continued, his face lighting with anger, "My greatest regret remains that I could do nothing to save her from-"
"Stop," Elijah commanded, rubbing his forehead. Victor obeyed, standing up straight and resuming his emotionless exterior. Elijah sighed. "You are blameless in that… situation. I understand."
Silence hung in the air between the two men. Finally, Victor spoke again, "My debt remains unpaid."
Elijah gave him a sad smile. "So it does, as I'll never be able to convince you otherwise." The two men looked away, each lost in their thoughts of the past for a few moments.
Victor returned to his chair, changing the subject back to Kaylee. "She will be fine. She may even prove useful beyond the next few days." He opened his magazine, pausing to look back at Elijah. "Do not forget what happened. Remember what has been done to you, and do not hesitate to do what you must."
Sweat beaded upon Elijah's forehead. He leaned forward, cradling his head in both hands. He slowly nodded. "Yes. Whatever it takes." He stood up and dusted his shoulders. "The cost may be my very soul, but that doesn't matter. His empire will fall, and he will suffer." Moisture condensed in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kaylee. Jeffrey." He ran his hand through his gray hair. "Ryan. Tobias. Everyone else who has sacrificed for this cause."
Victor didn't respond; he thumbed through the magazine quietly. Elijah returned to his terminal, tapping a few keys on the keyboard now and again.