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Chapter 25 – Break and Enter

We stayed in Sidney for two weeks, hiding the Corvette in the basement garage between a silver Lamborghini and a black Mercedes. Ralf was very hospitable, but made us promise to invite him to the wedding. I tried to tell him there wasn't going to be a wedding, but he was so persistent I was forced to humor him. We spent our time lounging around the house or going over tactics to take with Bishop. We really couldn't come up with anything except how to get away; drive until we hit the southern border.

Val woke me early on a Saturday morning, claiming Ralf's spies spotted pursuers in the city. Supposedly they were going around asking if anybody had seen a lime-green Corvette. Of course, nobody had, we came in at one in the morning, and hadn't left since. Luckily we never unpacked our things so it made for a quicker departure.

We headed south, avoiding town, and heading back into the States. We drove on until we reached South Dakota, not talking, and then moved on the next morning. I watched out the window as the landscape passed by us. Remote farms turned into small quiet towns, turned back into remote farms. We avoided any large city all together for the sake of speed and time. When I didn't robotically stare at the passing scenery, I slept. I didn't know what it was about car rides that always made me sleepy. It was actually how my parents would get me to sleep when I was a baby.

I was sitting in the backyard of my dad's house. Austin sat next to me in the soft green grass warmed by the sun. Spring time spores floated through the air in fluffy seeds that looked like cotton. I could smell the flowers blooming as I inhaled deeply.

I rolled my eyes, "What now?"

"Sofia," Austin took a deep breath, "I know what you're planning to do."

"No shit, seeing as you're me using Austie to talk myself out of it," I snapped, "I really need to see a psychiatrist."

"I'm trying to help you."

"What is this, the battle of the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other?"

"Dad being the angel, me being the devil, figures you would put me in that position," Austie grumbled.

"Well Dad always said that you were a bad influence when we were younger."

"Only when it came to getting you to eat worms," Austin laughed.

"I was one and a half, I couldn't tell the difference between worms and chocolate covered spaghetti." I argued.

"Sofia," Val's voice woke me up.

"You prick," I nearly yelled.

"What, having a good dream?" he teased.

"Fuck you."

"I figured we could do that in the room."

"Where are we?" I yawned.

"Brice, Texas," he answered.

We stayed the night in a boring motel. This one was a bit cleaner than the rest. The dark blue carpet looked almost new. The lighter blue bedspread was desolate of any stains. The bureau, that was standard in every room on the wall in front of the bed, looked rather new and free of scratches. Even the bathroom was slightly bigger, but was still plain, boring white, and had itchy scratchy towels.

The next day we crossed the border into Mexico, following the endless road that headed south. The border patrol gave Val a hard time about the weapons, even after we showed them both our permits. It set us back an hour, but eventually they couldn't hold us for anything and let us go.

With the only sound being the purr of the engine on the desolate roads of the desert, I almost believed I had gone deaf. After a few more days of endless sand and cacti, the land became a haven of green palm trees and weird tropical bushes that looked like aloe plants with thorns. The houses became more expensive, switching from small shacks to large two or three story mansions. The air began to smell salty and was heavy with moisture. We were near the coast.

"Where-" I began.

"Cancun, Mexico," Val answered with a smile.

"We have to go back."

Val looked at me, his amber eyes gauging my mood, "If that's what you want, we need to form a plan."

We stayed in a beautiful hotel that over looked the ocean. The outside was made of stuff that reminded me of pink plaster. Most of the other houses were built in the same. The room was classic Mexican style, but exquisite. The walls were made of the same material as the outside. Paintings and pictures of Mayan ruins decorated the bare spots. The floor was hard wood only coated with polyurethane to make it shine. The bed had a thin woven blanket to keep out the slight chill of the night. A net surrounded the bed to keep out bugs that would sneak into our room while we slept.

I was swimming in the cool blue waters of the ocean, floating weightless on the waves. We had been in Cancun for around two weeks, lounging in the sun, trying to figure out a plan.

"Come up with anything yet?" Val asked, wading next to me.

"Sure, we go back to the states and kill the fucker," I answered. That had been my idea since we arrived.

"Sofia, we need a plan. We can't just wing it, it's suicidal," Val explained exasperated. It had to be the billionth time we had this discussion.

"I would have had a plan if you didn't wake me up in the car," I snapped.

"That was two weeks ago. What were you possibly dreaming about that would help us?"

I stood up and glared at him, "My brother."

Val laughed, "Your brother's dead."

"I know, you made sure of that, but it still would have helped."

"Sofia, I," I ignored him and swam to shore.

We went on like that for months. October turned into November. November turned quickly into December. January came and went like a subliminal message on television. We still didn't have a plan. I racked my brain for the information that lay hidden, unused, and un-useful in its dormancy.

When February crept by, I began to panic. The more I panicked, the harder it was to think. The harder it was to think, the more I panicked. I tried brainstorming activities, which we learned in school, to no avail. I didn't know enough about Bishop to really help us.

I couldn't sleep. I woke up every morning more tired and miserable than the night before. Val ended up getting mad and buying sleeping pills, but they didn't help either. I tossed and turned even while I slept. That made it worse. My health started to fail, I was feeling weak. I had to force food down my throat, but it would only end in making me feel nauseated.

"Sofia," Val spoke one night. He was really beginning to worry, "You shouldn't dwell. We will come up with something eventually."

"Eventually might be too late," I snapped then turned away from him in the bed.

He pulled me close to him and sung me an Italian lullaby. When he had finished, I rolled to face him and buried my face in his chest.

I sat on my bed in my old room. The black and silver comforter was pulled back slightly revealing purple satin sheets. The black gauze hangings were pulled back on one side. Austin sat down next to me, his greenish-brown eyes held concern.

"It's about time," I ranted.

"You're telling me," he defended, "You can't keep panicking like this, it's unhealthy."

"Says the one who is dead," I snapped.

"Touché, Sofia," Austie snapped back.

"If you showed up, I wouldn't be panicking," I argued.

"It's your mind, not mine."

"Whatever, so what is the plan before Val decides to wake me up."

"Do you remember learning that Bishop winters in Texas, leaving Dad in charge?"

"Apparently it's buried deep in my brain or you wouldn't be telling me this. Where in Texas is it?"

"The estate is just outside of Fort Worth. It's an old plantation his great grandfather owned. You have to be careful because the place is crawling with guards. They do rotations with the radios every two minutes. Shift change is at seven am, six pm, and twelve am. Remember me explaining it to you when you were actually curious about our business?"

"Now I do, but that was when I was like thirteen. Is that it?"

"Be careful, Sis, I don't want to see you any time soon."

Austin walked out of the room. I could hear his feet softly hit the black carpet. We used to talk like this all the time. Especially when he saw that I was mad about something, which I usually was growing up. Ah, to be a teenager again. Of course, life for me was never really simple, but that was as simple as it got.

"Sofia, wake up," Val shook my shoulder, "It's late, we're going to miss breakfast."

Heaven forbid Val misses a meal.

"Have you ever heard of letting a sleeping dog lie?" I growled.

"Yes, but you're not a dog. Come," Val smiled.

"You're lucky."

"Why?"

"Because I have a plan," I smiled.

"Do share, over breakfast."

He threw clothes at me, not letting me take a shower. We went down stairs to the main level where the hotel was serving a buffet style breakfast for the guests, compliments of the house, of course.

While we munched on bacon and eggs, I told Val about the dream and what had transpired. He smiled at my revelation, and refilled my plate.

"We leave in a week, but we're not leaving this table until you have finished eating," he announced.

"I'm a human, not a garbage disposal," I protested. From the prolonged lack of eating, my stomach couldn't hold very much. I think I even lost weight, probably putting my body fat ratio down to five percent. Unfortunately, I had lost some muscle mass as well.

"We have a week to get you back into shape, now eat."

The next week was hell. Val wasn't lying about getting me back into shape. We had exercised a little through the months, but I really wasn't into it. Now I had to suffer the consequences and work double time to get my body back into peak condition. Luckily he gave me the last day of our stay off, letting me lounge around the hotel or on the beach. Unfortunately, that was all he would let me do claiming I needed to be energized for our trip. Why I needed energy for a car ride, I couldn't fathom.

The car ride back to the states was quiet. We both were too busy thinking about what was to come. Val decided we would stay in a hotel in Dallas and gather information.

As February turned into March, the warm weather only got hotter. Val and I took turns spending time scouting the perimeter of Bishop's estate. Turns out my memory served me correctly on the patterns of Bishop's guards. As April swiftly approached, we noticed he was preparing to leave. We had to make our move and fast.

On April sixteenth, we did; happy twenty-third birthday to me.

Val led as we snuck onto the grounds. We hid in the bushes, listening to the guards sound off their perimeters. I couldn't tell in the dark what kind of bush we hid in, but it was definitely mean. I had small scratches on my exposed skin from the hard branches.

The lawn was a plush forest green in the dim light. The front was lined with trees and bushes to hide the house from the road. A red brick path led from the drive to the front door. Flood lights lined the roof every few yards. The unlit bulbs were barely visible in the moon light. The mansion looked like your normal, average, plantation house. The white washed siding was well kept and probably painted every few years. The Roman columns held the front porch together, reminding me of the White House. This was the opposite; a mobster's house, the epitome of anarchy.

"Perimeter four, clear," a male's voice said through a walkie-talkie. It was dangerously close to our position. I could hear the static almost in my ear. Another voice responded, "Perimeter five, clear," The guy closest to our hiding spot called perimeter six.

Val moved to kill the guard but I grabbed his arm, "I want to see how many there are," I whispered.

"I knew there was a reason why I kept you," he whispered back.

I glared at him while the guards finished their rounds. Twenty of them patrolled the perimeter. All of them probably armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. Wouldn't it be kind of cool if they invented a gun you could shoot with your mouth? On second thought, that would be kind of dangerous.

"We should start from one and work our way up. By the time we finish, there will be nobody to begin," I suggested.

"No good, we don't know where they all are," Val answered.

I sighed, "Shit."

"Let's use your trick," Val suggested.

"What, the roof?"

"Nobody ever thinks about the chimney," Val smirked.

"Except for me, how are we supposed to get up there without being seen?"

Val pointed to a rose lattice that was hidden behind a giant bush. It led to the porch roof which was shadowed by the massive building. I noticed that an open window stood in the center. It would be much easier than trying to climb to the top and risk being seen. When I pointed this out, Val agreed. I went first, seeing I was the smaller one.

The roof was made of light colored shingles to keep out the southern heat. A light was on behind dark blue curtains. I crawled through the window while Val crouched, blending with the darkness.

The room was an office. The dark wooden walls were lined with bare shelves. The floor was hard wood with a blue and gold throw. To my right, a male sat behind a desk. He was probably in his late twenties or even thirty. He had sandy brown hair, and light brown eyes. He wasn't as tall as Val, but compared to me, if you're over five-five, you're tall. This was Bishop's son, Stephen. I only met him twice, but the only impression he left was a bad one. I couldn't count how many times he attempted to get in bed with me on both occasions. This guy was a pervert.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't find the front door," I spoke innocently.

He looked at me stunned, apparently he recognized me. Seeing that I was supposed to be dead, I would have been in shock too. Before he could reply, I pulled out my silenced pistol and shot him in the head. Blood and brains splattered the wall behind him as the bullet tore the back of his skull apart.

"All clear," I whispered, knowing Val would hear.

"Whoa," he said as he climbed inside, "He's not getting an open casket."

"Let's just make sure none of them gets an open casket."

"Remind me never to fuck with you."

"You already have. That's how all of this started, remember?" I snapped.

Val led as we silently exited Stephen's office. The hallway was hard wood with a green runner that had pink flowers and gold accents. Instead of a wall, a dark colored banister surrounded the whole entrance room. Down below, the green marble floor glistened in the dim light. The walls were dark wood with several portraits of the family. In the center of the room stood a small round table with a large vase full of pink lilies.

The staircase was made of the same wood as the hall. I had a feeling this was how the whole house was decorated.

We descended the stairs, glancing around for guards. Val searched a room on the left while I stood guard. I was startled by a noise behind me. Spinning around, my pack hit the table. The vase seemed to move in slow motion as it shattered into millions of pieces on the floor.

A guard rushed into the room, gun raised. He fell to the floor before he could take aim at me. I turned to see Val standing in the door way, holding his pistol up.

"You klutz!" he hissed.

"Notice that's the only thing I ever run into," I commented.

"Those damn table and vases must have it out for you."

"Tango-three, this is Alpha, do you copy? Over," the radio buzzed on the dead guy's belt, "Tango-three, do you copy, over… Tango-three, are you there?"

Val lifted the radio, "Alpha, this is Tango-three, a maid knocked over a vase, I was investigating. Over," he spoke in a perfect southern accent.

"Get back to your post. Over and out," the radio replied.

A wave of relief washed over me as the radio went on with its rounds.

Peering through a set of double doors, I found a dining hall. The table was oak with enough room to seat twenty. A huge chandelier hung over head, the crystal beads twinkling in the light. Three people sat at the table drinking wine.

All three were women; none were Bishop. I pushed the doors open further, causing the women to shriek as they saw Val and I in the door way; twins clad in black, one much smaller than the other. The women were dressed in fancy clothing, their blond hair styled elaborately. They wore jewelry that made the Queen of England look like a vagabond. I could tell they were related by the blonde hair and gray eyes.

"Where's Bishop?" I demanded.

Nobody answered.

I raised my gun and shot the closest female. She looked to be in her early twenties, the youngest of the bunch. This was Bishop's youngest daughter, Maria. We had played together as children, but grew apart once we hit ten. I never liked her anyway; she was very stuck up. The other two women shrieked as their family member hit the floor in a pile of blood and brains.

"Where's Bishop?" I roared, aiming the gun at what was her older sister, Caprice. She flinched as if I had hit her.

Still nobody answered.

I squeezed the trigger slowly, measuring how many clicks it took for the gun to fire.

"Wait," the oldest woman said. She was Bishop's wife, Donna, "He's out, I'm not sure where. I'm guessing at the Rusty Armadillo. It's located on Hurley Ave."

"Good," I pulled the trigger, and then aimed my gun at the woman as Caprice slumped to the floor.

"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered.

"Don't you know who I am?" I smirked.

"N-no," she replied. Blood and brains from her oldest daughter stained her pink dress and splattered her face.

"You're a smart woman, this should be easy."

"Sofia," she whispered. Her gray eyes were open wide in realization, "You're supposed to be dead."

"Supposed to be and being are two different things," I grinned vindictively.

"You kill us, my husband kills you, when does this vicious circle end?" she spoke nobly.

"It ends when your husband meets you in hell," a silent whiz flew through the air as I pulled the trigger. I turned on my heel and stalked out of the room.

"What the hell was that about?" Val whispered urgently.

"Bishop's wife and two daughters, I want this man to suffer before I put him in his grave."

"So you kill innocent people?" Val protested.

I whirled around to face him, "Who the hell are you to lecture me? They were even less innocent than my mother. Bishop never relays an order until he consults his wife first. It was probably her idea to have my family killed," I turned down the hall, kicking open doors to empty rooms as I passed.

"Where are you going, Bishop's not here," Val appeared next to me.

"She was lying," I stated.

"How do you know?"

"Two reasons; first, she knew I was going to kill her. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't have told the truth. Second, his Mercedes was in the drive."

Val looked at me shocked, "I think I trained you too well."

I shrugged as we kept walking silently through the halls killing the few people we met in the various rooms. I hated to kill so many servants that really had nothing to do with Bishop's operation, but we couldn't afford having them tattle-tattle on us.

As we drew further into the house, I couldn't help but notice that nobody pursued us. The dead guard and women had to have been found by now.

I was about to voice this when the huge oak door in front of us opened. A mass of guards dressed in black S.W.A.T. uniforms flooded the hallway. In the center of this mass, Bishop stood wearing an expensive gray suit. There was a scar on his left cheek from where my first bullet just barely missed him.

"I was wondering when you would show. Where's lover boy?"

"Lover boy," I asked with an attitude.

Turning to look behind me, I saw another mass of S.W.A.T. guards blocking my path, but Val was MIA.

That bastard abandoned me!

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