The main attraction in this room is the corkboard that spans one entire wall. There's no getting away from it; no matter where you stand it's in your peripheral vision. And if you turn your back to it and close your eyes, you're still going to have the red lettering caught behind your eyelids.

Would you kindly.

It seems like such an arbitrary phrase to have painted across what looks like hours upon hours, days or maybe even weeks of research. Articles and hastily scribbled notes.

And the pictures.

Ryan, Frank Fontaine, Doctor Tenenbaum, Doctor Yi Suchong...Jasmine Jolene? Sinclair is lost. But he approaches the wall to get a better look, and. That's a picture of Jack. And another on the desk below it all. And another. Ryan was watching him the whole time.

For all the connections Ryan seems to have made with his data, Sinclair's not picking up on anything other than a strong sense of something being very, very wrong.

Scattered also on the desk is another Accu-Vox or two. Sinclair tears his eyes away from the board and pushes play on the nearest one.

He immediately recognizes Doctor Suchong's thick Asian accent.

"Is that your puppy?" he asks. "She's very pretty..."