"It's possible. You are here, maybe it made him drop his guard. Made him careless." Love, however fucked up, could do that to a person. Jack stared at the screen and then at Sam, lifting his shoulders. "I don't know him, but we might have just gotten lucky. So to say."

How lucky it was, that was the question. "I suppose we could use gas in his cell to knock him out again and put a gag on him. Then we could at least communicate somewhat."

Not an ideal solution. "He needs his voice to do it, right?"