Intensive care

Inside Darren Orion's office, the camera focuses on Darren's fingers tapping on a brand new faux ebony Ikea desk. Darren's face is focused, biting the right side of his lip. His eyes squint down away from the desk. Darren's phone rings, but he doesn't budge. It rings again and his eyes move toward it, cautiously. After the third ring he sighs and presses the speaker button.

Darren Orion: Yes, Charlotte?

Charlotte: Sir, the hospital just called and they're moving your mother from intensive care today into a single room with personal care.

Darren nods, with a soft smirk.

Darren Orion: Good, she needs to be looked after.

Charlotte: Also, sir, I have a message here from Wreckage. Skye and Laguna are wondering when you're going to reveal the contents of your duffle bag. Should I reply?

Darren strokes his chin, now biting the left side of his lip. He leans forward, getting closer to the phone.

Darren Orion: Yes, send them a text or twitter or something. Something informal, especially with this party tonight. You can tell them they will find out more when I'm good and ready.

Charlotte: Yes sir.

The phone clicks out. Darren leans back on his chair again. The camera pans back behind the duffle bag, still being able to see Darren staring it down.

Darren Orion: The time is coming...

The camera fades out.