Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass
Authors Note: The next sets of words are…of course…Chapter 21's contents. If you liked 20-you'll love this. 10,000 + Words again too!
The date in this chapter is January 3rd 2014, it becomes January 4th 2014 near the end.
[#'s]=Footnotes! Please read these important notes.
Chapter 21: Stars From Across the Ring
*[!1!]*Marianne ran the length of her homes long and curvy drive way, leaving her company car parked right up against sidewalk. Although the night was dyeing the sky a dark blue there remained enough light for her to see the immense size and shape of her home [2]. She ran right up the stone steps of the house while at the same time fumbling with her keys, trying her best to come up with the right one to unlock the front door. Hanging on her arms were bags filled with merchandise from places she'd shopped, but even with this excess weight Marianne unlocked the door.
Even after Marianne pushed the door open she saw nothing but a dark room occupied by a few black figures. She uneasily proceeded into the seemingly vacant dwelling attempting to find some form of a light switch on the wall with her hand. However as the eager woman walked further into the house the darker it became, to a point where she couldn't even see her own shadow. After feeling around the wall for what seemed like forever she'd found a plastic button, which she immediately recognized as a dimmer switch from her old apartment.
Marianne pressed down on this plastic device and was bathed instantly in a bright light that brought with it so much joy she couldn't stay up on her feet. She'd dropped her shopping bags onto the white carpet and thrown her coat onto the nearest couch. Her laughter filled the room and her eyes began to tear up.
"I'm a fucking executive!" Marianne shrieked and weakly stood back up in the living room she believed was a piece of luxury, "I've got to show Lelouch!" The woman quickly took her cellphone she'd kept tucked inside the cup of her bra but dropped it on the floor as her attention was drawn to a set of stairs down the hall. "Oh-Lelouch can wait!" Marianne laughed again and ran to the stairs.
"By simply following the bright lights of Detroit's distinct skyline, someone can venture outside the pool of ruined factories and decaying homes to find human life. What can I name this…space between old and new…this-barrier-what is this cut off line really called?" [3] Lelouch whispered each of his words he'd laid down on the white pages of his journal, with the truck's interior light illuminating all that was dark in the cab.
Lelouch set down his grandfather's pen again after letting his words take shape on a page, but as he held the piece of smooth metal in his tired hand he could only be reminded of what he'd hid away. The signature sign of wealth he'd claimed as his own made him uncomfortable to the point where he'd contemplated hiding it in a more elaborate way. Although it hurt to admit it to himself, Lelouch knew that he didn't wish to rid himself of the treasure he'd unearthed.
Under his idealist-optimistic thinking was his staunch, critical, pessimistic, realist self who knew very well the money was important to possess in times of crisis. Funds had become important long before finding the five cases enclosed within the layers of ice years of ruins. Money was always a necessity that even he couldn't shy away from. Lelouch however knew that this resource was now almost invaluable as whomever left behind such equipment could one day come to reclaim it with as much force as possible.
He'd only stopped his friend's vehicle near the edge of the ruins' extent because he wished to; again calm his nerves figuring one of his projects would be able to do just that. At that moment Lelouch didn't believe he had a literal target on his back as he thought through a number of different scenarios to deduce just what would be most logical. He didn't shy over one detail that he'd had floating in his mind because it would lead to a possible mistake which Lelouch loathed more than any ignorant person's behavior. To have a mistake take place at that particular time would prove fatal.
Lelouch leaned back in his seat with his eyes shut and calmly shut off the cab's light, leaving him alone in a darkness reminiscent of the factory's tattered interior. With his heavily inked journal and smudged pen in his coat's pocket he began to contemplate. He'd put the stress relief technique his grandfather taught him into action by resting both of his hands on his knees, and pictured this negative ailment as water leaking from the tips of his tiring fingers.
"There exists…private military contractors [4] fighting as hired hands throughout the world…local thugs on the streets who 'Flash signs,' and stake their claim to territory that is nothing more than a neighborhood…there are real state sponsored armies who would contemplate attacks by a fifth column [5]…there are terrorists who itch at the opportunity to wage lone wolf assualts where body count and destruction is most important…there are insane individuals who would-for one reason or another-bother to shoot a school or any crowded establishment…there are-idiots from local law enforcement and or random folks who have a love for paramilitary hardware and steal from known armories and or caches for their own fun…now which of these are…you people?" Lelouch orated as he wrote small notes in second journal now in his lap with silver and white pen.
"Loughner [6], Lanza [7], Holmes [8]," Lelouch opened his eyes for a moment, but merely blinked as the said the three wicked names, "The amount of psycological disturbance in an insane person's head conflicts with everything found here...Holmes had one set of tactical gear and looked for body count, he was his one man army...Lanza himself had a directed motivation despite his unpreparedness like Holmes-and killed himself but used one gun…Loughner wanted to make a statement in his own way and on a level of looney that neither Lanza nor Holmes could match-but again only a few guns...not one of them had an exit strategy so their motives of body count don't fall in line with the five sets of guns present…and an insane man doesn't rely on a 'Fire Team' for body count because he doesn't trust anybody…nor does he have pamphlets or books with an entire chapter dedicated to 'Exit Strategy' if he was going in just to kill himself nor would he possess non-lethal weaponry like flash bangs even if Holmes can be added to an exception list with his smoke bombs. "
The lids of his eyes unsheathed violet irises once more as Lelouch let out a light laugh, "Hehehe...gangbangers don't read-haha…I don't even feel guilty about speaking the truth of that."
"A fifth column is stupid...on more than one level-as a warring state wouldn't expect much if anything at all from such a group-regardless if the second Vladimir [9] is orchestrating his old KGB[10] cronies…plus this one action alone would reveal to others there even is a concerted effort by a state to attack America from abroad. Five of the fifteen fire arms however are indeed Kalashnikovs-but why would such a fifth column even touch the remaining ten which are all American manufactured? Is it your Soviet Surplus store? [11] Maybe...but I still have my doubts…and the money given to them…why the same amount to all five of them…KGB Russian spies are one thing but this still."
"Body count, organization, and weapons," Lelouch listed the items as he pressed on to think of terrorist, "For all of the groups listed so far the ruins of Detroit are an adequate hiding place…and the number of arms, the fire arms themselves, and the pamphlets cleans up the mess of suspects...now terrorists-I find it hard to believe someone would just hide personal 'Plan your own terrorist attack kit' with factory sealed plastic bags and unmarked cardboard…not to mention the armor like this didn't even look like it was used...and even if it wasn't used 'Yet' there'd still be plenty of problems for them to even get their hands on it. The obvious Al Queda supporting terrorist goes for body count with some forms of organization in their attacks…their weapons can be made of anything however. Which is why they'd be more inclined not to draw attention to themselves by stealing and or buying weapons like this…seeing as America has gotten wise to their methods-I know very well the NSA fingers out Muslims here in the states…fucking racism."
Lelouch bit his bottom lip and popped his neck slightly before he continued, "A bank robbery gang…have I stopped them? Am I a hero-no of course not…these people are part of a larger gang who read military tactic books the average person casts aside, and have factory sealed equipment, and the attachments for their guns were first equipped with silencers…even amongst the rifles…they wouldn't carry around this many attachments for modifications…a bank robber is in and out…even if that can be done through a team effort…even with suppressors-it defeats the purpose of stealthiness if that was their method of choice."
"A private military contractor [12]," Lelouch's heart skipped a beat as he thought for a moment, "Possible…but if they were going to be top flight security they'd be armed at all times…even in plain clothes…what would a weapons cache in Detroit give them-a training ground? Doubtful…I kept my eyes open with all of the lights still on…there were no bullet holes, shell casings (Other than the one I shot and picked up), spent weapon magazines. Organizations like the…old Blackwater [13] have their own training grounds…this wouldn't be one of them…and what would a weapons cache in case of emergencies do for them? Those PMCs use ferocious force mainly outside of America…where their business opportunities are more plentiful…so it couldn't be you…a corporation in of itself can have their own army that protects its own assets-a form of security…while also being thrown abroad to knock off their opponents businesses such as their supply chains…Blackwater wasn't an armed wing of some oil company like Exon or Shell during the Iraq war…they were almost near perfect ideal mercenaries-soldiers for hire…they only got paid to fight-they swore no allegiance to one corporation. [14]"
Lelouch fully opened his eyes and put both of his hands onto the wheel, "Sadly in every single one of these cases there's tragedy-which I'm now a part of…but at least I can finally get a picture of you people. For some reason you stationed a team out here that have undergone combat training-but I don't know why-those methods are over kill if they're against people who can't even fight back…however these people can can't they? They've got to not only put fear into another belligerent but defend themselves tit for tat. That's why you want your organization so tight knit…even on the level of your common soldiers-so you can say 'It's us against them.' And these men will feel a part of something bigger...you've given them these little kits so they can be ready-you've made them read up on operation detail...you obviously have enough to give a team of five a thousand dollars each…and enough care in the world to stash weapons caches throughout Detroit's ruins without caring if anyone found it! With the money inside!"
The boy tightened his grip considerably on the truck's wheel, feeling the pain of pressing against rubber on his palms, "You have plenty of money to spare so I can only imagine just what else you have! I checked every single box...they were there for a short while-the cases themselves were still clean and shown minor ware-maybe you lost them in the snow and couldn't find them!" Lelouch began to laugh with a bit of a hiss in his voice and continued to speak with a mischievous grin [15] on his face, "That would mean that you don't have tracking devices on any of these boxes or their items! Hahaha! Or else you'd use them instantly to get to this equipment when you couldn't find it in the snow!"
Lelouch continued to snarl with a bit of happiness, "Hehehe…I'm right aren't I? Everything I've found was also oriented for the environment…warm clothing...the socks…the gloves were thicker than what I've seen SWAT teams use-that backs up my theory of you getting lost and being aware of the environment! You just thought you'd find it later because this is where you and your friend's seem to be staying in for a while-why else have amounts of money like this? This branch of your armed forces seems to be more oriented for night, stealth, and ambush attacks! That's why the suppressors were already set-and why there were flashlights on the guns and armor-for blinding…how much more are you hiding from me? What's your secret behind the factory sealed plastic! The unmarked bullet boxes...and five of the same tablets that are nearly as much as the money you gave these men combined?"
"If I wanted to I could get off just Scott free right now…you'll never find me-but...finding you...that would be difficult," Lelouch murmured and set his hand in his lap, "I would wish to locate you...and stop you…because obviously you're up to no good...where's the justice in letting you go free?" He pondered for a moment before he continued to think aloud, "I can't look for you now however…I wouldn't know where to go from here-the most I can do is take your spoils for my own and run off. With your resources…you're reach is far-I'll concede…you're more powerful than this untrained man-but doing the wrong thing over and over will get someone you're probably expecting lurking over your shoulder...then will see who lives in panic mode for the rest of their days."
The interior of the massive dream liner [16] was very cool because of the blowing air conditioners and dark even with the small lights embedded in the ceiling. Those who'd taken this long flight from China had either fallen asleep or bided their time with menial tasks such as reading. However just after the plane took one rolling turn, causing its entire interior to feel and appear diagonal[17], a bell like sound alerted the passengers. This noise didn't discriminate between first class and coach as it emanated from an array of unseen speakers planted throughout the plane.
"晚上好，女士们，先生们，我们将登陆公平不久，所以请保持坐姿."
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen we will be landing fairly shortly so please remain seated," the pilot said over the speakers with two sets of languages. All those who'd nodded off or had gotten so caught up with their free time reacted with sighs of relief after finally knowing they'd soon get the chance to wander about. The flight attendants who'd been serving and watching over the travelers on board took to their own seats.
The first thing Li Xingke saw outside of his window was the sea of endless lights that extended far into the now blackened horizon. As his plane gradually descended to Earth his view of these lights shrunk, but the change in altitude allowed for him to make out the number of buildings and homes close to the airport. Xingke directed his eyes down to the nearest highway and was sure they'd gotten considerably closer to the ground as he could see drivers behind the wheels of their cars. However his focus was broken by the large rattle that shook through the entire plane, but Xinke wasn't worried about it knowing his extended time in the sky had finally come to an end.
The large wheels of the 787 rolled atop the runway at a considerable speed. An array of bright: red, blue, yellow and green lights blanketed the massive tarmac in long dotted crisscrossing lines. As the plane began to slow down, after what seemed like forever rocketing down the runway, Xingke was able to glimpse other planes taxiing for takeoff on a number of various paths. Again another coveted announcement injected new life into the passenger's hearts.
"女士们，先生们，我谨代表中国航空公司和飞行机组 我想成为第一个欢迎你到洛杉矶国际机场，当地时间是下午7时56."
"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Chinese Airlines and the flight crew; I'd like to be the first to welcome you to Los Angeles International Airport; the local time is 7:56 PM," The captain said over his radio in a cheerful voice, as though the long travel didn't at all affect him, just as the plane finally crawled to a stop at one of the gates.
The instant the hum of the massive engines went dead was the very same moment the entire plane felt alive with activity. One by one each passenger took to their feet to follow the narrow isles out into the terminal. Xingke looked over at the people beginning to file out but saw not one gap in these eager folks. The most he could see from the plane's new position were a few men wearing bright orange and yellow vests getting their equipment into position to unload the cargo bay and refill the fuel tanks.
Xingke pulled his one faded brown backpack from under his seat and put the one strap over his neck then finally sat up from his seat and walked ahead of the now thinned line of passengers. A cute young flight attendant waved her hand slightly to which he returned a smile. He then wandered through the long, narrow, windowless hallway lit by some white shiny florescent light tubes on its ceiling. However as he walked up the inclined corridor he couldn't help but figure the walls surrounding him were thin. When Xingke finally turned into an open doorway he was confronted with a near empty terminal.
Despite being a hub for international travel, as well as 24 hours of service, LAX [18] wasn't impervious to the lack of activity at night. Xingke saw that a number of desks near the entrances to the various gates remained vacant and lifeless, all except for a handful where a pocket of potential passengers had lined up awaiting their chance to soar away. Most of these passengers had taken to the black leather seats facing the walls of thick glass separating them from the aircraft outdoors.
Xingke looked out of the same stainless window just in time to see another plane gradually begin to slow down on its approach to a gate, but he didn't play spectator to the winged machine for long and walked off into what little foot traffic was present. It wasn't his first time in that particular airport as he'd set foot in it once before, of course as opposed to that time the airport was as lively as the numerous markets he'd see back in China. On the path he remembered leading to the parking lot were a number of signs leading to a few stores that seemed all but vacant except for two or three individuals manning registers. Xingke didn't bother to make eye contact with any of the cashiers who tended to their few customers, nor did he look at the large electronic board on the wall listing the flight arrival times. After what seemed like a three mile trek, up moving escalators and across cleaned floors noted by wet floor signs, Xingke finally found his desired exit.
He'd gotten to the front most counters where everyone wishing to fly out to some distant destination would first check in before going through thorough security. For a split second Xingke peered over at these stations and the lines made up of poles and black bands where but a few people stood patiently. However his focus was broken by a family of four who entered through the same set of sliding doors he was intending to use. They'd come in so fast that Xingke was stopped dead in his tracks to be careful that he didn't bump into the pair of kids.
"Sorry about that," their apparent father said happily and patted the Chinese man on his shoulder before walking off.
"It's alright," Xingke replied politely to the man as he and his family stepped into one of the lines with their belongings.
Once Xingke strolled outside he was immediately blasted by a wave of air from an airport bus carrying a load of passengers, to which he sighed as the light dust kicked up around him began to settle. The airport was a city in of itself with an array of roads, and levels upon levels of stone and concrete making up the sidewalks and streets. To Xingke's left were stoplights glowing red and a few shuttle busses parked on the corner, to his right was the same bus that passed in front of him parked with a few folks already piling out to get to their flight, and in front of him was a white cross walk that led to a four story parking lot.
After looking both ways for any more passing cars Xingke crossed the street, keeping his eyes focused on the entrance that was cornered by palm trees and light spikey green shrubbery. Looking up at the parking lot's floors Xingke could see the tops of some cars lit by a few lights. A plastic sign hanging above the entrance read, 'Floor 1' to which he snickered and looked towards the set of concrete stairs leading to the upper levels. He gradually climbed up these steps, dragging his hand across the smooth metal railing along the way until he got to the third floor.
Xingke entered the third floor the moment the sound of a plane coming in for landing began to dwarf the noise of the traffic downstairs. The parking lot he entered was meant for those who chose to store their car before they traveled abroad as well as for that of any employee working at the airport. On the third floor alone there plenty of vehicles parked in one row alone, ranging from SUVs to minivans and even a few hybrids. The floor was adequately lit by white lights that highlighted the traffic lines on the ground, like the large white arrow at Xingke's feet pointing to the exit.
The man scanned each car with eyes as he strolled through the parking lot without turning his neck. He knew exactly what he was looking for, but the target was nowhere in sight. Xingke understood from the start that finding the right car out of many others would be difficult even with a picture from his phone that he'd memorized. With a bit of hesitancy he drew that same cellphone from his pocket and immediately turned it on with one press of a button. The screen instantly flashed on to the exact photo to which the man snarled seeing the very same vehicle parked directly in front of him.
Xingke quickly sheathed his phone in his pocket again and took off the light backpack he wore and clutched it with one hand. With his free hand he unzipped one of the two pockets from the front of the bag and drew a pair of silver and black keys. Almost as instantly as he'd collected the keys, he made for the driver's side door to unlock it-then wasted no time and sat in the driver's seat. He quickly shut the door but dropped both his keys and his bag in his lap when he looked over. A body crawled over the center counsel of the car's interior and placed one hand on the keys before uttering his name, "Master Xingke."
"Xianglin," Xingke stuttered having been caught off guard for the first time with a bit of hesitancy he placed his arm around her waist but that force alone caused her to slide right on top of him, "Hong Gu had said he'd get someone to come for me but I never expected you."
The woman planted a quick kiss on his lips which he returned halfheartedly before she said, "Are you upset that it has to be me?"
"Not entirely…but you…sort of distract me in a number of ways," Xingke replied and let her lie on top of him, "This is one of them…the other is-"
"Your emotions-I know," Xianglin interrupted and put her hand on his heart to which he looked away as if knowing she could feel the rapid beats she was responsible for, "You shouldn't be so nervous though…we've fought together before haven't we?"
"Yes of course," the man responded and clutched her thigh, "I know very well you can pull your own weight when the bullets fly."
"Then relax," she whispered and pressed her lips to his again just before sliding back over to passenger seat, "Now drive us out of here so we can strike them down together."
Xingke nodded and regained his composure knowing the mission they'd been tasked with was beyond important to those who'd sent him back to the States.
Marcus had finally seen his two daughters after a week of being without them, and after having undergone a wave of emotional turmoil. He'd had periods of hopelessness after his boss's horrible news and joy when believing that there was some sort of possibility to either stay at his job or at the very least save a little face back in New York by staying at the edge of the spotlight. However after that one week had passed Mark finally felt he was on even footing.
"So what happened exactly dad?" Joyce asked her father as they strolled passed a fake potted plant next to a bench outside of the many stores on just one arm of the mall.
"Okay-what you have to know about this is…when I got here I went to see your uncle Bernie," Marcus explained just as his other daughter, Carla, led him and her sister into a nearby clothing store, "Bernie…threw me some cash…and I put it together with some of the savings I had left-do you two understand that?"
"Uh huh," the younger Carla replied as she examined a garment hanging on the wall of the store.
Mark continued to explain despite that little bit of sarcasm in Carla's voice, "I thank god for Bernard or else we'd have nothing...but with him I got us a home over in Pico-Robertson [19] close to where your mother lives."
"How much savings did you have left?" Joyce questioned.
"I had enough to keep us back in our last home for at least a few months," Mark groaned as his girls had begun leading him to a wall that held a variety of shoes on small shelves, "But everything over there just got…too much to handle."
"I can't believe you had a job for less than half of half of a day," Carla said with a serious tone and set one shoe she'd picked out back on the shelf.
"Are you sure that that…Le-Lelouch guy didn't do this to you…because ever since you met him everything went downhill?" Joyce asked and sat down on what appeared to be a cushion used for those who'd try on their shoes.
"Joyce," Marcus sighed and rolled his eyes, "It wasn't Lelouch's fault-even Jacobi agrees with me on that…besides Keith told me that he could've cared less if either me or Jacobi were hurt in the first rampage…he made his decision long before we even met Lelouch."
"Lelouch is an idiot," Carla sneered and sat beside her sister to stare up at her father, "He's more of an idiot…I don't know what I'm saying."
"Well-what are you saying?" Marcus asked with a tone his daughter took notice of.
"From what you said about Lelouch…all he does is go to work and go to school-and breaks the hearts of girls who come to talk to him," Carla laughed in such a way Marcus had to restrain the rage he'd had building up, as he began comparing his daughter to the handful of people who'd called in complaining about Lelouch's actions, "That bastard has to be a loner afraid of girls-hahaha."
Joyce snickered along with her sister, "Maybe all those girls you said he'd pushed away was for that reason dad! Hehe…he curses them out to push them all away-and runs to the books and pencils or his mother hahaha."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was just gay," Carla giggled meanly again while her father, who's anger had subsided to a degree, now stood dumbfounded by his daughter's thoughts.
"You're as bad as Esther and Mike," Marcus sighed, "Lelouch is just a smart guy who lives a life style of telling people like it is…while striving to get his work done-did you forget that I told you he wants a wife? Or that he doesn't care what people think about him?" The two girls said nothing as their father's words pounded them into a sort of, gotcha moment. "Or are you kinda jealous of him?"
"Wait what?" Joyce asked surprised that his father had to go to a point under their skin, "What do you mean jealous?"
"He can do things that you and I can't…he's got the opposite sex willing to bend to his every-whim-he's got a solidified future of success…are you jealous you can't be his significant other? Or that you can't do what he does?"
"No one's jealous of a loner who can't appreciate everything you've just said," Carla said but had to admit, "But maybe…I would like someone like that on my side as either my boyfriend or just my friend."
"Okay-let's build off that," Mark said with a much more down to earth tone, "If some idiot came in here…let's say someone you hate and said, 'You're life sucks…you're wearing the worst shoes here...you're nothing but screw ups,' what would you say in response?"
"I'd tell that bitch she could go fuck herself," Joyce snarled at the pretend set of insults her father just listed.
"Well next time you should use a better choice of words-but in all seriousness what did Lelouch tell that girl in the video?" Marcus pressed and watch the eyes of the girls light up to which they reacted.
"Yeah yeah," Carla sighed and frowned feeling a bit of guilt and easily caved, "Guess we're sorry."
"Well there you go," Marcus said happily and brought both of his hands up, nearly palm to palm, "We're not that far away from each other-you know! People who do and don't like that guy…it's as simple as that!"
"Hey!" A woman from behind the cashier counter asked and caught their attention, "Are you okay over there?"
"Yes we're fine! Just talking about Lelouch!" Mark yelled back happily.
"Who's Lelouch?" a woman the cashier was servicing asked herself as the man and his daughters laughed off their newfound attention.
Mark didn't wish to say much more about Lelouch after having shouted his name over the top of his lungs more than enough and he felt he'd again successfully defended the young man.
"How about another dose of good news for a change?" Marcus said to his daughters and pulled out his phone, "Jacobi and Chanel plus your good friends are moving out here with us!"
"Really! Why didn't you tell us that earlier?" Carla questioned and pulled out her phone, "I was wondering why Marie didn't text me! I just thought she was upset."
"Oh ho ho no-she and her sister are pretty happy about all of it-and…thanks to one call I made on the second to Lelouch himself…will have our stuff here soon."
"What? What did Lelouch do this time?" Joyce asked with that same boy's name having to again reappear, "Why and how did you call him?"
"I got his number-apparently I called him in the middle of his trip…he was in Ohio," Marcus said and skimmed through his phone, "I just asked him what service he and his mother used to ship their stuff across the country and he gave me the name…now for more news."
"What now?" Carla bothered to say.
"I called Jacobi just before I picked you up…when he said he and Chanel would be here-so he's going to be moving our stuff here with the help of those shipping guys Lelouch told me about…plus he's going to get my car at the airport back home too."
"So Jacobi and Chanel are going to be moving their stuff and ours too?"
"Uh huh Joyce-and they're going to drive over here just like Lelouch and his friends…said they should be here in about a week-because unlike Lelouch...they're not on some sort of tour of America."
"Dad," Carla murmured, "Where are they going to be living?"
"Culver City [20] but that's beside the point…my job as of right now is-other than make sure the new house is livable-find a radio station out here…I have to be aggressive! I've got a package to sell and I won't be deterred!"
"You sound just like Lelouch and his fancy way of speaking," Joyce sighed and rolled her eyes, "I don't know why but he sounded annoying talking like that."
"Oh hush up-you can meet him yourself when he gets here instead of just hearing on the radio," Mark ordered but laughed, "Also I have one more thing to say...the house sold fast."
"How in hell do you sell a house in less than a week?" Carla reacted shockingly unable to believe her father accomplished such a thing, "Is that even possible?"
"There are some things that just don't have an answer," her father laughed, "But there is an answer here…some guy had a lot of cash and he bought it fast hahaha-said the reason why he was moving to New York was for some…sorta tax free zones [21] ...but any way-other than that Wall-Street [22] wannabee…with that cash will be set."
"Is that it?" Carla asked seriously.
"Look don't be upset! We get to live here now, we got a house, I'm going to kill for a job, and your friends are coming…I feel sorry that Jacob has to drive my car here though...but other than that we're good."
"Have you told your other two friends?" Joyce pressed her father, "The two interns?"
"Esther and Michael," Marcus uttered his old intern's names, "Well in all honesty…they were Jr. college students-they're from this area too so...I would think they transferred out to one of the universities or something to come this way. Who knows-they're still our friends but we don't know what they'll choose."
"Oh now that you said college!" Carla reacted and pulled a little booklet from her pocket, "Look where mom is going to send us to school!"
"Wait why's 'She' sending you to somewhere she chose? Don't I have any say in this?" Mark asked surprised by his ex-wife's decision before he conceded, "Where is it?"
"Culver City [23] near Brentwood [24] where mom lives," Carla answered and handed her father the thick booklet, "Sorry for giving it late."
"A private school?" her father sneered, "Wait this isn't a private school...it's a...actually I don't know what this is."
"Mom's boyfriend says it's a private school…like just an academy," Joyce said and folded her arms, "Sorta sucks though if you ask me."
"Huh…guess it isn't a religious school-but still…a private school?" Marcus said to himself as he looked through the pamphlet, "I had the chance to go to one way back when but this other academy had nuns and cost too much…you're grandma and grandpa couldn't do it."
"Mom and her boyfriend says 'It's nice and cheap.'" Carla sighed and hung her head, "But we've got to wear uniforms there…we can't wear what we want."
"Well if that's the case why are we even in here?" Marcus laughed but watched his daughter's eyes light up.
"Just because we can't wear what we want there doesn't mean we can't buy anything else to wear out of the house right?" Joyce mused as her father rolled her eyes.
"Well if Ashford is as close as it is…and as cheap as your mother says…you're going-it'll be good for you both," Marcus said and closed the black booklet etched with the school's gold seal.
Xingke and Xianglin walked side by side through a dark alley separating the rows of residential homes and their respective yards. A hue of orange lingered around the houses from the street lights up front and more or less made this stroll to action tolerable. At their feet was a broken up concrete road that had become more dirt and gravel due to years of neglect. The fences straddling each residence appeared to be well off; there wasn't one hole, or board broken out of place. There were plenty of reasons why neither of them were scared, one of which was the other's presence.
"Do you have your badge?" Xianglin asked just as Xingke reached into his back pocket to draw forth what she knew was his sharp edge Chinese star. [25]
"We will separate soon," Xingke uttered and clipped the badge over his heart, "Break through that fence up ahead with your team -once Hong Gu's team is in place we will strike from all three directions."
"We're not wasting our time here."
"Of course we're not…we've confirmed that the contraband is indeed in there…and plenty of it," Xingke answered smoothly as they got to the end of the 'T' shaped alley, "Now get into position…don't forget the objective of this raid."
Xianglin nodded to herself as her leader took the alley exit to the left while she walked the opposite direction just as a four door car facing them both flicked its white lights on for a split second at the far end of the alley. She simply knelt on one knee and looked off to her left to see Xingke's figure disappear steadily into the night. The car which had flashed her for a split second came to life with one turn of a key and gradually reversed its way out of the same alley. Xianglin took in one deep breath as the vehicle turned its bright lights on one more time as it got back on the road.
A night of music and cracking laughs was all Juan Trujillo needed to have a good time, and there was no shortage of that to be had on that particular night. His friends and even his younger brother, who'd more or less felt better since New Years' Eve, had all come together to kick back and relax. The day had been spent with a small party of at least fifty people who'd all since gone home leaving only their trash and criminal friends behind to deal with their issues. A smell of beef, pork and beans that had cooked in the kitchen all day still lingered as he picked through the fridge for a cold gold can of beer.
His friends, more like his subordinates, filled the room with the sounds of their mingling. The younger Trujillo, Ivan, rushed to join his bother for a moment in the kitchen simply to snatch two bottles of his own favorite alcoholic beverage but his brother could've cared less as there was plenty left. Juan looked over the counter above the dirty dish filled kitchen sink to see two of his friends playing dominos on the table while a smoking third played spectator.
In the living room three other Latino men were watching TV as a Spanish tune from a radio in the kitchen poured into their ears. But in one of these man's hands was none other than a plastic bag of filled with yellow packed so tight it looked and felt like a brick. He let the slab fall in his lap and immediately looked over at a cardboard box filled with it. The home Juan and his friends occupied was nothing more than one front for his more powerful friends and their narcotic trade.
"You got it for me Daniel?" the man with the yellow slab asked Juan's younger brother who'd gave him the same beer bottle he'd pulled from the fridge.
"Right here-now when in the hell are we going to unload the rest of that shit?" Daniel said and handed over one of the bear bottles before he'd questioned his brother
"Whenever someone else wants more…we just have to go back there and get it-it's all in the shed any way," Juan snickered and sat down near across from the three men on the couch, "You're right though…those pendejos [26] down the block should be coming up here to push this shit."
"You can't fucking count on paisas [27] to sell this shit man-I don't know what the fuck you're thinking," Daniel slurred sat next to his brother before he changed the subject, "Have you hit up Luciano yet?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" Juan replied and pulled out an old cellphone, then idly typed in a number on the plastic keys, "We've gotta speak with this fucker already." Once he heard the phone on the other end ring he pressed the speaker button, and soon the old buzzing sound reached everyone's ears.
"Trujillo! Heh…I haven't heard from you all day-I assume you've got good news right?" Luciano said over the speaker in a volume that dwarfed the music.
"Turn off the radio," Daniel ordered his companions still in the kitchen, who didn't take a lot of time to comply.
"Alright speak on it," Luciano gave commands of his own as he too heard the tunes cut off.
"We got your feria[28] Fernandez got into town pretty quick too…good thing he did too because it went fast," Juan explained and dug his hand into his curly hair, "How's that sound?"
"Shh...hehe pretty good-how much is left in Fernandez's trailer?"
"Two whole pallets [29] …we got rid of the first four though," Daniel chimed in with a laugh as sleazy as Luciano's tone, "We just gotta go down the block for it so will be fine."
"Well I'll just wait for your next phone call," Luciano sighed, "You'll just have to finish up and send Fernandez back with the 18 wheels…cya later on."
"Oh sure thi-" Juan was cut off instantly by the sounds of breaking glass, and for a split second he could see what caused them.
Three cylinders comprised of a heavy explosive charge designed to disable armed gunman to a point where they were just feeble pushovers had been tossed into the building.
"Raid!" one of Juan's friends shrieked and jumped over the arm rest of the couch as low as he could to the ground and ducked out of the living room on his stomach, but not everyone was so lucky.
The three explosions went off one after another sending out concussion inducing shockwaves that Xingke and his detachment force of fifteen hoped would be enough to anchor the deadly fight that lie inside the residence. He immediately pointed to the first fire team led by Hong Gu as a way of ordering him to hold back. His second squad leader had already been responsible for more or less disabling the enemy from their window positions.
As the third squad leader in the team Xianglin instantly reacted to the explosions and the subsequent fire alarms that followed. She immediately signaled for her squad of four men to strike in their unique fashion. The same car that had signaled her turned its lights on one more time and shot down the same alley she and Xingke had wandered through in a flash. The silver Mercedes smashed right through the wooden fence in a shower splinters and came to a halt before it hit the rear of the house.
"Out and pierce!" Xianglin yelled into her earpiece as she ran through the broken hole her team had created with her rifle in her arms. She darted right passed the four door car whose determined occupants filed out of all at once. Some of these soldiers glimpsed at the vehicle and its superficial damage but their attention was broken by a gunshot they were unfamiliar with.
"Suppressive fire! They're unorganized!" Xingke's voice blew into the team's ears.
Xingke jumped on Hong Gu's outstretched hand and then through the broken window into the smoke filled room of mayhem. One man fired two shots from what he believed was a pistol, missing him by mere inches. The Chinese leader's subordinates fired through the door striking this individual in the head and upper body.
"Watch for cross fire [30]!We're inside!" Xianglin warned over the radio just as one of her team members took full automatic fire from the kitchen.
Xingke could see better and better with each passing moment as the smoke dissipated, and with the quickest draw he pulled his sword and impaled the same man, who'd fired in Xianglin's direction, right in the back. He didn't even let the blood curdling scream make him miss a beat as he took his own light rifle hanging on his arm by a strap. The pain and suffering his victim was surely enduring was cut off by a burst of bullets to his head. [31]
"Master Xingke!" a green armored member [32]of his squad screamed his name and quickly fired off a burst of rounds that easily killed a Chicano youth who was about to fire off his street rendered Mac-10.
"Luciano! Armor! They got us! They're not fucking cops!" Juan shrieked into his phone, which was now on the tiled floor of the kitchen, "They're killing us!" He cried madly while fumbling with his waist band to find his pistol.
Another armored Chinese soldier tackled one of his other friends near him-thrusting the manonto the table, raining dominos and full beer containers onto the floor. They fought for a firing angle which the Chinese man won in seconds and by the time the criminal's blood added to the debris scattered about Juan was the only one left alive.
"They're down!" Hong Gu shrieked and ran indoors as the shootout ended and pointed to one of his men, "Turn on the lights! Second team leaders!"
"Xingke! We've got the right one!" Xianglin alerted her leader and pushed aside a dead man her bullets had cut down with her foot, and then pulled a set of white plastic handcuffs from her pocket.
"Subdue him and bring him outside," Xingke ordered in a calmer tone and picked up the cellphone on the kitchen's floor to say, "Hello? Hello?" The clock timing the call still ticked on the outdated device's screen to let him know there still was someone on the other end but that didn't stay like that for long.
"What do we got?" Xianglin questioned and brought, the now bound, Juan to his feet as the others began to check the surrounding room.
"Nothing they hung up…this is a disposable phone too," Xingke sneered just as the fire alarms went silent, "Take Trujillo up front."
"Hey fuck you pendejo! You fucked me over!" Juan barked defiantly as Xianglin gave control to Hong Gu who walked him through the hall way leading to the front door and the living room.
"Shut him up if you have to," Xingke sighed and looked outside both windows as the blue and red police lights they'd outfitted their cars with flashed about, "Now we wait until the real folks get here-"
Juan's angry tone again filled their ears and cut Xingke off, "You fucking Chinks! [33] You killed my brother! You fucking bastards! Get your fucking hands off of me!"
"Be quiet! You'll die one day too!" Hong Gu sneered and stepped over Daniel's body as he made for the front door, while the soldiers with him had begun gathering up everything they could.
Rivalz and Mario finally walked out of the café with their work uniforms slung over their backs in plastic wrapping. Rivalz let out a sigh of relief and patted the white envelope in his pocket a few times content with the numbers inside. The mall had had become considerably quiet since the clock hit closing time and the most either of them could see or hear now were the many stores beginning to pull down their metal security gates. Mario waved over to a few security guards he knew just as Rivalz let out a yawn.
"I'm glad I'm not working the weekends with these guys," Rivalz said happily knowing his friend more or less agreed.
"Simon [34] …we always get a taste of the weekend rush on Friday…like when the chicos get outta school-especially at five o'clock when everyone else gets off work," Mario complained.
"At least they tip well," Rivalz laughed as they walked to nearest exit of sliding doors before he asked, "So did you forget?"
"Course not-did you?" his friend replied quickly and walked through the open doors the nearest security guard was about to close.
"No," Rivalz sighed as they wandered across the suspended walkway of concrete connecting the mall's third floor with the adjacent three story parking lot to their cars.
Like a pair of synchronized machines they took out their keys and walked to their vehicles tucked right up against a wall nearest to the bridge. In between the two vehicles was one of many empty driving spaces that had sprung up since the shoppers and mall employees had called it a day. After unlocking their respective doors, and tossing their work uniforms aside, they turned to face each other.
"So you want to go first?" Mario questioned and lie back on his passenger side door looking at Rivalz who sat in the driver's seat of his own vehicle adjusting the collar of his shirt with the door opened.
"Do you really want to know that badly?" Rivalz complained as he stepped out of one of his father's cars but was surprised when Mario closed the distance between them.
"Now you listen up," his friend sneered, "We coulda died...Kallen's brother somehow had a hand in saving us…all this shit ties into each other-understand?"
"Alright then," the blue haired boy said having been convinced by his friend's explanation, "Kallen and Suzaku…broke up during or before Christmas…after almost a year together and I mean this when I say it-she liked it."
"Hurry up and get to the point."
Rivalz sighed again and went on, "She got sick during the midst of soft ball season…then when she went back she got hurt...Suzaku-for some odd reason-comes out and basically tells her 'It's okay' … now I know that guy is nice but after he comforted her…it became clear he had other motives."
"Like what?" Mario questioned.
"He may or may not have saw an opportunity to snatch a girl while she was down…or-or," Rivalz stuttered with a frantic tone, "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn't looking for a girlfriend and just wanted to be nice…either way they got lovey dovey in end…which wasn't all that bad yah know because they rubbed off on each other. Kallen got back up on her feet and Suzaku had gotten what even-'I' think he deserves."
"How'd they break up?"
"Apparently," Rivalz said sarcastically, "Kallen yelled at him because he was trying to get her to go somewhere-and he said something about, 'You always went with me before what's different now?' I didn't know what the deal was when they were arguing and then she slapped him across the face and said, 'We don't need to hang around each other anymore!' …I wouldn't know entirely because that's what Shirley and a few others said…but even right now with them quieted down-you can tell there's still tension in the air."
"Did she ever hook up with anyone else since then?"
"I don't know Mario-I want to keep out of it…but…the only one ever close to her besides Suzaku was Rai."
"So Rai fucked it up for all of them?" Mario snickered at his own question but saw his friend's face show his discontent.
"I hate talking behind people's back," Rivalz sneered and shook his head but had to concede, "Maybe Rai did…I don't know…but I really think it's for some other reason-it had to have been...she wouldn't run her mouth the way she did if it wasn't' but it's not my business."
"Whatever! You want to know about the wedding?"
"Of course-I want an invite...also…when is it?" Rivalz asked and snapped his fingers.
"Saturday before the super bowl-mi familia and I are going to be catering and providing the entertainment."
"I'm guessing your sister got the money from Kallen's family huh?"
"Yeah…and Naoto got it easily…but I don't know if he and his people will like what will be choosing haha…white people don't entirely take to Mexican music and food huh?"
"Who cares?" Rivalz laughed at his expressed concerns, "Naoto knew what he was getting into when he proposed…this going to be at the church's hall like that one girl's quince [35] last year?"
"Yeah that's the place so you just wait till then we're supposed to have-" Mario was cut off when his phone's special ringtone he'd applied for his mother sounded, "Let me talk."
"Go for it," Rivalz deferred his attention to Mario's own mother whose voice instantly reached the boy's ear.
"Acabo de salir del trabajo, ¿por qué?," Mario answered his mother's frantic question with one of his own.
(I just got out of work, why?) [Spanish]
"Something wrong?" Rivalz jumped into his discussion, "Mario?"
"Say that again! Slowly!" Mario barked at his mother, who quickly gave him a response that shook his core, "¡No mames!."
(No fucking way!) [Spanish]
"What's going on Mario?"
"The cops shot up the Trujillo's house!" Mario slurred the information even he was still surprised over, but Rivalz only stood there trying to take in the news. For a moment Mario held him palm on the phone's speaker so that his mother couldn't hear and shrieked, "Do you know how fucking close we were to where this went down!"
"Oh shit," Rivalz sneered and suddenly became weak in the legs fearing the worst, "Was it the same fucking house or down the block?"
"One block over."
"Why the hell did you take us there if you knew it was a bad neighborhood!"
"Fuck off! I never knew where they exactly lived! I only heard shit from others about how fucked up they are!" Mario responded and put his phone to his ear again to ask, "What's going on over there!"
Bartley Asprius had served the Los Angeles Police Department for more than two decades. He'd served the city in its darkest days dealing with prolonged civil disobedience in the infamous riots. Back then the officer would admit that even with a military background spanning three years as a lieutenant in the army he didn't feel ready to police the streets. Even now as serving as the interim chief of police after those twenty-two years of seasoning he didn't feel up to the task. Since the baton of power had been passed on to him, and his superior's orders handed down before he'd had to take his leave of absence, Bartley had shown strong resolve against the criminals responsible for a majority of his officer's call to action.
"Why did I have to get this now?" the newest chief asked himself as he read a text message on his phone while his subordinate drove their plain squad car down the suburban streets with a number of other officers trailing them, "Why now of all times?"
"Sir we got even more trouble!" shrieked a voice over the dashboard's radio.
"Will be right there! Don't do anything until we arrive!"
"Chief they've got weapons!" the officer yelled again.
"Don't do anything! Hold your fire!" Bartley slurred and tapped the dash just as he dropped the radio, "Speed it up Clovis!"
"Yes sir!" Clovis complied and shoved the plastic pedal with his foot and watched the speedometer gauge increase well passed 100 miles per hour. The sergeant gripped the wheel as the high speed he and his compatriots in tow were speeding at had begun to make him nervous amongst the fluid situation. He zoomed right passed parked cars and dark homes, whose occupants must've still been sound asleep despite the loud noise of the sirens. Clovis was driving so fast he couldn't tell if he or his surroundings were moving.
"There they are!" Bartley shrieked as their car was nearing the scene and grabbed the radio, "We've arrived!"
"I've got some information on this neighborhood," Clovis said as he pumped the breaks.
"Yes I recall your report."
"Bartley…the most we got out of it was: shots fired…nothing else but that and underage drinking," Clovis murmured just as they neared the parked units that had since drawn out those in the neighborhood.
"Will see if there's a connection," Bartley said the moment the car came to a complete stop and instantly stepped out but had to scream an order back to Clovis, who killed the deafening siren the cruiser possessed.
"Chief! Chief!" one of Bartley's officers called him over as he held his issued 9mm pistol up to two green armored men who stood stone face in the midst of local law enforcement.
Bartley grabbed the radio on his shoulder blade and barked into it to alert his subordinates, "No one will fire upon these individuals! Do you read me! No threat! We don't need to escalate this incident any further! Repeat! There is no threat! Put away your arms!"
Clovis saw the surreal scene with his own eyes after he'd gotten out of the driver's seat of the squad car; the combat prepared men still held their weapons, making him wonder if he should grab his own despite his superior's orders. His companions had gradually flocked from their cruisers to confront these menacing looking men that still stood silent like a pair of disciplined hounds. However the gathering crowd of civilians grew considerably, breaking his focus from the unknown individuals.
"Get these people back!" Clovis ordered the other officers and pointed to both the surrounding trees and chain link fence, "Tape it up and keep them back!"
"Yes sergeant Lambert!" the nearest officers responded and flocked back to their vehicles as Clovis wandered up the sidewalk and up to the home.
"You can put the gun down now," Bartley said and politely nudged the scared officer's pistol down with his large hand.
"Look!" the same officer who was now sheathing his pistol yelled and directed the veteran officer to the front porch.
"It's great to meet you officer Asprius," Xingke said politely as the colors of red and blue flashed over his person steadily, "I'm glad we're finally able to meet face to face."
Clovis walked straight passed the oriental man walking towards him due to a visible lifeless body lying face down on the carpet near the open front door. However as he walked up the three brick stairs up onto the porch he was met bet the sight of a Latino individual who sat on the floor hanging his head. The man showed signs of injury and he was visibly weeping yet Clovis merely scoffed at his suffering and wandered into the home where he was confronted by what was left of the battle that had taken place.
"Chief get in here!" Clovis shrieked outside to Bartley even though plenty of Xingke's team members were wandering about the house carrying weapons and searching the corpses.
"Here you go," Xianglin said politely and handed him the wallets of all those who'd perished to which Clovis cringed as he saw the brutality of this team the chief had yet to say anything of.
"Clovis," the officer turned hearing his name called by Bartley who'd finally joined him indoors with some of the other officers who were as surprised as he was,
"Coroner will be coming soon…if there's anyone here who's injured you're welcome to take an escort to the hospital…if not…pull up your sleeves we've got a lot more work to do here."
"Sir?" the sergeant sighed and watched the same woman who'd brought him the old wallets pick up a gun in the hands of a blood stained man.
"Everyone coordinate with Li Xingke's team-they've done an…outstanding job here-don't let this victory for justice go to waste," Bartley said with a stutter in his voice, "We're all going back to HQ when this is over. Everyone!"
The foreigners stood at attention as the police chief's fiery voice reached their ears.
"Will discuss all of this later," Xingke said bluntly, "This is just another crime scene…we're here to assist you-look."
Hong Gu walked in with three thick and brown cardboard boxes in his arms, while those behind him carried only one box due to their sheer weight. One by one the five men set down the boxes in front of Clovis in small stacks.
"There's plenty more of this outside-and down the street…we've got information from Trujillo's own mouth out there," Xingke said as the thought of working with such a man began to set itself in the minds of the officers present, "Check the contents for yourself."
Clovis knelt down and tried his best to break up the plastic holding the lids together. After just a few seconds his fingers began to burn rubbing against the corner of the cardboard box. Xianglin surprised him again by holding out a fine knife with a green handle for him to use, which he uneasily took from her cold palm. What had made Clovis so worrisome was the fact that Xianglin's palm had fresh blood stains that she and her companions were acting so nonchalant about. But the officer shid away from that thought as he took hold of the blade.
"Please make a fine cut," Xianglin ordered softly and watched Clovis cut through the tape on either side of the corners.
"Down the middle now," Clovis murmured to himself and cleaved easily through the tape holding both flaps of the box together, then allowed for the woman to take back her knife.
Bartley looked over the blonde officer's shoulder with Xingke standing at his side. Neither of the two men flinched at the sight of what Clovis had just uncovered. The sergeant had begun to dug his hands into box's contents and began to go through the tedious task of counting the flat heavy bricks of yellow.
"If there's twenty in each box then…there's 140 of those bricks right here," Hong Gu did the math for Clovis who was looking over the containers again.
"I'll need a test kit to confirm that this is even what we think it is-or this work is all for not," Clovis conceded to the unknown man and gradually begun to put the tight packed powder back into the box as neatly as he'd unpacked it.
"I've got one right there," one of the armored men said to him as he took off his heavy helmet, which rolled upside onto the carpet, "Trujillo's friend was going to sample this himself just before we pushed in." The Chinese soldier said and handed over a package of the yellow substance that lied on the large couch's cushion. He then plucked a small plastic box from his thigh pocket and handed it over to Clovis who instantly recognized it.
"These are the same kits the force uses," Clovis said and plucked open the top of the plastic box then grabbed the two little tools that fell out in his hands. Two indentations in the clear plastic, one small and the other large needed to be filed for him to begin the test. With the white plastic pick tool Clovis stabbed the plastic wrap of the brick and allowed for the yellow powder to finally be exposed to the air.
The man who'd given him the test kit took out the small cold and silver plastic bag that was no smaller than that of an alcohol swab a nurse would use before they'd give someone a shot with the sharpest of needles. With his fingers alone he tore of the top of it and poured in the liquid into the small indentation. Clovis on the other hand allowed for a good chunk of the yellow powder to fill up the larger indentation.
"So what do we got Clovis?" Bartley asked his subordinate who used the little spoon tool to dip a small amount of the powder into the clear liquid.
Clovis mixed the two substances together with the tiny pick and watched the powder melt down from a yellow looking sulfur color to a bright green thin liquid that some untrained individual would most likely mistake for juice.
"Positive reactants Chief," Clovis said strongly before he dug his hands back into the box he'd cut open with Xianglin's knife, "Yellow Cake."
Foot Notes: (And Plenty of them)
*[!1!]* I fucked up by saying in a previous chapter that Marianne was looking for "Brentwood." In fact her home is in Westwood. If you look on my profile you will find a map to of the entire city. My mistake can be seen and will be understandable if you all check the Westside district.
[2] I will be posting a picture of how Lelouch and Marianne's home looks as a link in my profile. NOTE that this picture is at the very least...85% exactly what their home is like.
[3] This is an excerpt from a journal Lelouch is keeping.
[4] Private Military Contractors do indeed exist and can be hired by Nation States (Countries) and or private firms for security.
[5] A "Fifth Column" is known as a group of soldiers sponsored by a country who are to attempt to attack from within an enemy country's land.
[6] Jared Lee Loughner, on January 8th 2011 Loughner opened fire at a "Congress On Your Corner" event in Tucson Arizona. Loughner killed 6 people and wounded 15. Amongst the wounded was Congresswoman Gabriel Gifford's (D-AZ) who took a shot to head-today the former Congresswoman still struggles with daily life.
[7] Adam Lanza, on December 12th 2012 Lanza brought an AR-15 assault rifle to Sandy Hook Elementary School in Sandy Hook, Connecticut where he proceeded to orchestrate a vicious massacre that killed 27 people (most being children) before he took his own life.
[8] James Holmes, on July 20th 2012 Holmes entered a movie theatre showing, at the time, the newest Batman film. After throwing smoke grenades into the theatre he reportedly shouted, "I'm the joker!" before he fired wildly into the seats filled with movie goers. His attack killed up to 12 people and injured another 70.
[9] The 2nd Vladimir Lelouch is referring to is Russian President Vladimir Putin.
[10] The KGB was the Soviet Union's (USSR) version of the CIA. Vladimir Putin was a member of this organization.
[11] After the fall of the Berlin Wall in the 1990s plenty of Soviet surplus items ranging from clothing to weapons became widely available for purchase.
[12] Refer to [4] (Written again for a reason…)
[13] Blackwater was an organization that used soldiers for hire, most notably in Iraq. They've had their own source of funding, and their very own training grounds.
[14] A corporation can hire Private Military Contractors or fund their very own army. The difference is quite easy to understand. (If you don't get the hint on this footnote…then chances are you just plain aren't paying attention)
[15] Refer to Lelouch's awesome attitude after killing plenty of Britannians with his orders alone in Code Geass R1 Episode 2,YES before Suzaku launches in his Lancelot.
[16] 787 Dream liner aircraft
[17] First time I was ever on a plane this scared the hell outta me, for those of you who've flown before you'll understand what this feels like…and understand exactly what I mean.
[18] LAX is an abbreviation for Los Angeles International Airport
[19] Pico-Robertson is a neighborhood in the Westside District of Los Angeles, you can find a map on my profile that illustrates the cities geography.
[20] Culver City is a neighborhood in the Westside District of Los Angeles, you can find a map on my profile that illustrates the cities geography.
[21] New York state is indeed trying to attract business opportunists with such incentives like tax free zones.
[22] Wall Street is the place of the New York stock exchange.
[23] Refer to [20]
[24] Brentwood is a neighborhood in the Westside District of Los Angeles, you can find a map on my profile that illustrates the cities geography. (Marcus' ex-wife lives here)
[25] For a better visual of what this star looks like, look up a picture of the last Chinese Emperor Pu Yi in his military uniform. Xingke and his subordinates wear special star badges similar to that of one of Pu Yi's medals.
[26] Spanish slang for "Fuckers" or "Dick heads"
[27] Paisa is Spanish slang for "Mexicans" who cannot speak any English.
[28] Spanish slang for Money
[29] A pallet is the name of the wooden frame goods are packed onto into trucks. They're specially made so that a forklift vehicle can pick them up with ease.
[30] Cross fire is a term for an Allied group firing on an Enemy. What's so dangerous about this is, another Allied group is in the same line of fire as the Enemy and could, and often times does, result in friendly fire.
[31] Xingke is using the "Jian She" JS Type 05 Chinese made rifle. (A picture of this will be on my profile)
[32] The men with Xingke are dressed exactly like Chinese Federation Soldiers
[33] The term "Chink" is a racial slur for anyone who is Asian.
[34] Spanish slang for "Hell yeah"
[35] Quince (15) is a term used for a "quinceanera" or a girl's 15th birthday.
Lots of footnotes but hey…they're worth the read. I enjoyed writing this chapter. There are A LOT more moving parts now and even I have trouble keeping up with them. I'm getting into chapters that I thought up way back when I was starting out with this FF in the first place. Now that I'm getting to them I feel happy.
What does everyone think?
Any surprises?
Is Marianne still "Special" …I think so…
What about Lelouch? Xingke and Co. have arrived-what's he got to do with the plot?