Sylar offered a sigh of a laugh, shooting a glance down at his feet before returning his attentions to the geneticist. The amusement that had been so freely expressed, however, failed to reach his eyes. "I was, yes," he agreed. "But it doesn't matter. I'll get out of here, Suresh, and when I do ... "

He paused, sobering, before, "Did they tell you what happened to the last person who tried to hold me captive?"

And he would get out. Nothing short of the Haitian with his irritating power to nullify his own would stop him. Even now, he could feel his neural pathways shifting, acclimating themselves to whatever drugs the Company had put him on. Soon, they wouldn't do much, just as the geneticist's steady flow of curare had proved useless, once he'd gotten used to it. Soon, it would be Suresh he was pulling through the observation glass, in revenge for what he was visiting upon him. It might take a few days, but he could wait.