AATC: Territory
Well, I've overshot the estimated chapter count for the story. Time for the adventure part of the story, I guess. Oh, and I let a tiny bit more colorful language into the chapter to keep characters in…well, keeping characters in character. By continuing to read, you don't have a problem with that.
Matters Arising – So yeah, I've got three counts of flames, and I suspect it to be the same person. I don't know who you are. But what I do know, is that if you're trying to hurt me emotionally, you're terrible at it. I've seen better burns in Youtube comments. After looking over your vocabulary, when you post and where you leave your reviews, you're obviously some impatient fourteen year old girl trying to get me to update faster. You haven't sped up the update or delayed it. This chapter was cooking for a week in editing. Besides, if you really think I can't write, then why would you read my story? It's obvious that you've been following this story by browsing, or on your phone by skipping to the last chapter to check for updates, but I never thought I'd see the day when a cliffhanger would drive someone to the point of flaming. And if this was really about you hating on this story, well then, feel free. I'll keep moderating your hate, and I'll keep breathing.
Besides that, everyone, enjoy the chapter.
29.
"Well, don't just stand there like a terracotta statue. Come on in." Valerie invited the chipette with a beckon before she already started walking back into the bedroom area of her suite. "And shut the door behind you."
Brittany neglected to close the door immediately but Alvin didn't come inside; he stayed outside. She still had yet to figure out her true intentions here, but she needed someone in her inner circle with her, like Alvin. Said chipmunk was outside the door; who knew what was going on in his mind. But never matter; he was staying just outside waiting. The police would soon arrive anyway, Brittany believed, as she finally shut the door.
But that didn't matter the most in Brittany's mind. What was centered on her mind was one question.
Who was Valerie?
"Terracotta? What the hell is that?" Brittany asked to address the woman's earlier comment, slightly confused.
"Clay." The woman said sharply. She had it in mind that the girl was here for advice. She was sure that that the girl would have just taken her up on her offer and leave Miami, but here she was, unintentionally complicating things. Goddamn teenage drama. Didn't they know that it was far easier to go with the flow? Besides, her life was at stake; didn't she care?
"You sure know a lot, don't you?"
"I think I know more…than the average person?" Valerie shook her head as she glanced towards her bedroom where her laptop was, knowing of an impending crisis concerning Simon. "Could you make this fast? What is it?" She sat in her armchair in the living room portion of her suite, while Brittany mirrored her action by sitting in another identical chair. "Is this about the plane ticket? I thought you would've left already."
"No."
"Afraid of traveling by yourself?" Valerie pressed, trying to shoot many questions in the dark in the hopes of cutting the girl's visit short, or at least prompt her to spit out whatever's on her mind.
…
On the outside, Alvin scowled to himself as he continued to wait. His mind was in a bit of a mess; Brittany left it like that when she showed a new colour of hers when they had gone through the large cache of video content on the memory card.
…
"I'm going to talk to her."
"Are you crazy? About what? Like what pair of shoes to wear with which dress?" He hissed.
Brittany's face fell before it contorted in anger. "Well, screw you, Alvin!" She said bitterly. "You didn't get to watch some twisted video of seeing her stick some huge needle in your neck!"
"She's dangerous! We should just call the police!" Alvin fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Oh…you mean the same phones that the bitch upstairs might have tapped or something?!" Brittany scream-whispered.
"Well, let's just tell Dave!"
"He's not here. Look, either way, one of us better distract her or something while someone else makes the call. Like it or not, I want my goddamn answers! She's been with us this whole time, helps us or at least pretends to, only for me to watch some video of seeing her stick a needle in my neck nearly every night!"
"All the more reason why we should just go to the police!"
"She can use the cameras of the whole city as far as we can see; she can mess with our phones. She'd be on to us before we even finish pressing the last digit of '911', or to run to the police station, only for them to come back and find her not here!"
Alvin sighed as he could feel himself relenting. "God, I swear, once you get like this..." Brittany rolled her eyes before she began to struggle for extra-room to maneuver, but accidentally elbowed Alvin in his side. "Agh! Geez! Careful!"
"Sorry! Sorry!"
"No, not just for that. I mean with Valerie." The chipmunk could barely twist his own arm properly to nurse his bruised side. "We don't know what she's really capable of. We should just wait for Dave."
Brittany was silent for a while. Alvin was rather glad that he couldn't see her face; she was probably mad enough to chew nails. "You don't think I can do this, do you?"
"It's not that. It feels like we're just jumping into something headfirst without looking-"
"Isn't that usually a motto of yours?" Brittany reminded. "To jump without looking or you'll hesitate?" There wasn't anything he could say in reply to a convicting question like that. He had to concede, and Brittany took his silence that he was finally warming up to what she wanted. Made her feel like she was overbearing, but this felt like something she had to do. "Look Alvin, I know I have you in my corner. Just call the police while I distract her. Think about it like that, m'kay?"
"You sure you don't wanna switch jobs? I can distract her while you call the police-"
"Alvin." She spoke dead-stop. "Call. The. Police."
The chipmunk sighed. "Yes dear," he mumbled sarcastically. "I swear, it's like I must be wearing skirts nowadays, and you're the one who's wearing long pants." He accidentally leaned too much to one side and fell out through the door of the closet they had been hiding (and conversing), in.
…
He hadn't meant it as an insult; he believed that he was expected to back off because he knew that she had been right. He was now utterly convinced that he actually loved Brittany. (Maybe he was 'whipped' and didn't even know.) Hell, even Valerie had helped him along to realize that. Was the woman such a bad person, after all?
He shook his head before he got out of his cell-phone, pressing the keys for '911' so hard that he nearly cracked the screen. As he dialed and paced away from the Valerie's suite, he wondered how he should report what he needed to tell the cops.
=X=X=
The copper-haired woman knew one thing: the internet was pretty damn huge. On it, while it was true that she spent a lot of time watching videos, she also learnt things. Like social mechanics.
Valerie shook her head as she observed the chipette's strange behavior. Maybe Brittany didn't know about her damning secret yet. But that memory card was becoming more and more of a dangerous liability-
Brittany suddenly started laughing.
Valerie raised her eyebrow at this, wondering what curve ball that life had thrown her way this time.
Brittany laughed and continued to do so. It soon died down into chortles, but if there was one thing that Valerie noticed, was that the mirth never quite made it to the girl's eyes. "So…you help Jeanette, then warn her by threatening to kill us…"
"Excuse me?" Valerie blinked, suddenly worried.
"Telling me and Alvin to get lost or die, poison Eleanor, then turns around and helps her to puke it out…"
"Excuse me? I'm not following." A small bead of sweat sprouted on her brow and the woman absently swiped at it. She knew that that Brittany had caught on; the only reason, the only 'how and why' in this case was that she had gotten to the memory card. How horribly convenient.
"This whole time, sticking a needle full of God-knows-what in my neck nearly every night and then just offers to buy me a plane ticket to go back home!" Brittany shouted the last, making Valerie visibly recoil in her startle. The pink Miller calmed down somewhat before leveling an icy glare at the redhead. "And I have to ask..."
"Um, what are you talking about? Valerie pretended, but only served to piss off Brittany more.
"Who is our helper? Who is our attacker? Who is our friend? Who is our enemy? Who…is…Valerie?"
That was it. All had been dropped. Valerie knew that Brittany was no longer ignorant. The problem was, who else knew? Did anyone else know?
Was all of this pretending still really necessary?
A new thought popped into her mind. Sedation.
Perhaps there could still be a way to salvage this. If she could pop Brittany another sedative, drop her in bed, she could pass it off that she had been dreaming, while finding the memory card to tie up her loose ends. (The card was most likely in the girl's phone.)
It was a small chance…but the question had been asked and Valerie was afraid of the answer.
Who was she?
…
Quiet. Silent. She had been in thought for a long time.
"Look, I don't have time for this nonsense." Valerie got up from the chair, intent on attending to more important matters at hand. The idea of sedation still lingered in her mind, but there was no need to potentially dig her grave any deeper. She turned to head towards her bedroom where her laptop was, eager to just find a way to contact Simon. However, it was in that very same instant that Brittany blew her stack, angered that the woman had just blown off everything she had said as if it wasn't important at all.
"You BITCH!"
Valerie barely had time to react as Brittany flung herself at her. Although she was no slouch at defending herself, Valerie found herself tackled face-down to the floor; Brittany was already beating on her with her small fists and tearing at her hair. Just because Brittany didn't have the weight and size of a pro fighter didn't mean that any of her strikes didn't hurt.
Adrenaline coursed through Brittany's body, serving to boost her physical might and her anger. "You threatened Jeanette! You poisoned my little sister!" She punctuated each word with a blow to Valerie's head, intent on extracting her fair pound of flesh from the woman. Given how furious she was, that could have been taken literally.
Valerie could feel the chipette's knuckles rasp painfully against the back of her head, then the horrible uprooting of her hair as strands were yanked up by the root. She suppressed her cry of pain to a stifled grunt before trying to toss the chipette who rested atop her shoulders and failed miserably.
"You've been sneaking into my room doing God-knows-what to me with that needle!"
"*Ack!* I was-…trying to-…help you! Le' go of me!" Valerie tried to choke out. At the last, Alvin burst in through the door, seeming to have been attracted by the noise. Briefly distracted by his appearance, Brittany felt a piercing double-knuckle jab to her ribs that made her suck wind sharply in pain before she was savagely thrown off the woman's shoulders like a bronco.
"Agh!" Brittany narrowly missed hitting her head on the edge of the nearby glass coffee table. Seeing his significant other being mistreated, Alvin was already by her side, trying to help her up. Valerie limped back unto her feet, already feeling bruises and aches beginning to make themselves known on her upper back, neck and head. She had no intention of fighting an unjust fight with a teenage girl, but Alvin had no qualms against letting Valerie know that she wasn't going to get away with hurting the chipette he loved.
In reprisal to the swung punch he dealt to her leg in an effort to trip her up, however, muscle memory of self-defense classes coursed through Valerie's mind and made her act with explosive action, despite her lack of a want of hurting either of the singers. She just acted; a cruel fist curled into Alvin's stomach that knocked all the wind out of him. He sagged off of her outstretched arm and fell to his knees, trying his best to breathe but unable to get enough air. Valerie's hand shook as she stared at both of them, clearly unnerved about how brutally she had reacted. "I was only trying to help…"
"Help?" Brittany spat as she tried to tend to Alvin. "Really?"
As she looked on at the hurt singers, Valerie was starting to doubt her own beliefs and actions as well, even considering that she could have reacted worse. "You wouldn't understand. You're in way over your head. You don't even know-"
"Hey Val!" A new voice hailed from outside the door. Dave let himself through the already-open door with a cup of coffee in both of his hands. "I got us both a pick-me-up…" The man trailed off as he took in the scene; Brittany trying to help Alvin and his son gasping for air as if he was struggling with asthma.
And Valerie standing over them with a clenched fist.
The man's eyes flitted from Valerie, then the children, then back to Valerie again. "What the hell's going on here?! What's the meaning of this?!"
Too late, Valerie let her offending hand fall to her side but the damage had already been done. "Um…Dave, you see, err…the children fell-"
"That's a lie!" Brittany screamed at the woman before she swiveled to the man. "Dave! She's the hacker! She's been working with Ravin' Raven to kill us!"
"What?! No! I haven't-"
"Dave-!" Alvin wheezed as he struggled to get up from his winding. "Call the police."
"Didn't you call them already?!" Brittany hissed loudly to him.
"They-…thought I was a prank caller…"
Brittany fought the urge to face-palm herself. 'The boy who cried wolf. Crap.' "Listen Dave! She's the hacker, alright?! She's been helping that two-faced son-of-a-bitch rapper to kill us! She's been spying on us this whole time, even sticking me with an injection nearly every night! She's even the one who poisoned Eleanor!"
Dave wasn't even paying attention to the chipette's degrading language; this was serious. The man's already stern face grew even colder as he heard the accusations. "Valerie, is this true?"
"No! Of course not! I don't know what these kids are talking about!" Valerie insisted; perhaps the day might yet be salvaged in her favor.
"Oh…I see." Brittany was seething. "I'm sorry Dave. I'm sorry for tricking you. I'm sorry for spying on you. I'm sorry for poisoning my little sister. I'm sorry for helping Ravin' Raven try to kill us. I'm really sorry for lying on Valerie."
The man knew that all the cards had been laid on the table. There was a large tally of the times he had been lied to by his children over the years, even over the slightest mishaps. They owned up to their untruths eventually, but this time, he couldn't possibly deny that he knew deep down that they were telling the truth. The second he glanced towards Valerie, then back to his own hands, he realized that he had been caught flatfooted as they were preoccupied with holding the coffees. He quickly set one down on the nearby coffee table and reached into his pocket, fumbling to get out his cell-phone to carry out the act of calling the police. However, he failed to account for Valerie's possible intervention while he turned away from her.
"NO! DON'T!"
"Look out, Dave!" A warning given but unheeded, Alvin watched as Valerie charged past him to knock the phone from Dave's grasp. The man tried to keep the phone to himself, but failed spectacularly. But in spite of this, the forgotten cup of coffee in his other hand was gripped in a clenching hand that (accidentally) pitched the contents of the scalding stuff into the woman's face.
The woman screamed and bawled for her badly burnt face while scrunching her eyes shut in fear of endangering them too. Not thrilled by the prospect of being one-upped by the woman that hurt both Brittany and himself, Alvin half-threw himself into the woman's path to let her trip over him, making the dreadfully hurt woman topple to the floor, whereupon he quickly got up and grabbed her hands and pinned them against her back.
"Someone get me something to tie her up! Quick!" Alvin yelled. "Brittany! Find a cord or something!" He barked the order; she immediately took off, searching for something that the woman could be bound with. He struggled to keep the woman beneath his weight but every time she tried to struggle, he shifted her hands even higher up her back, threatening to put them out of joint.
"*Gah!* Get off me!" The woman's legs flailed, but she had no way out. "I wasn't targeting anyone!"
Alvin wouldn't have any of it. "Grrr…just shut up!" His attention turned to Dave, who was staring at him holding the woman in submission. "Dave! Quit gawking and call the cops!"
"No! Don't call the police!" The woman begged. "Please!" Dave tried to ignore her as he retrieved his phone from where it had fallen and started dialing the number with conviction, intent on setting things straight.
"Well, honest people don't worry about the police," Alvin taunted. "I hope that Ravin' Raven and you get to bunk together, even though they don't mix genders in prison anymore." At last, Brittany returned with the woman's (laptop) power cable, which she used to lash and tie the woman's arms and hands together in knots so tight that it cut off the woman's circulation while Alvin kept her hands pinned. "Can you tie that part tighter?" Brittany shook her head in answer. "No? It's tight enough already? Good."
The woman continued to yell at Dave while the man waited on the call to go through. Finally, the dispatcher came on the line. "911, what is your emergency?"
"Oh? Hello?" Dave plugged his other ear with a finger to tune out the background noise. "I'm calling to report-"
Horror dawned on the redhead, truly afraid of her impending fate. "No! Please!" Tears streamed from her eyes as she implored the man. "Don't call the police!"
"Too late for that!" Brittany said with conviction. "Dave, tell 'em about what's going on."
"No-!"
Dave lost his temper and quickly covered the mic portion of his phone with his hand. "And why shouldn't I? We all trusted you! To know that you're hand-in-hand with people who're out to get us…" He sounded bitter and disappointed. "The police will sort you out-"
"The police are in on it!" The woman shouted back. "You think all of this could happen without the police catching wind of it? Hell, even the deputy chief knows and he can't do a thing against it! The blackmail against them makes sure that Ravin' Raven has them in his backpocket!"
"She's lying! She always has!" Alvin spat. "We even have video proof of her in Brittany's room nearly every night, sticking her injections filled with who-knows-what!"
"R-Raven controls me, and I control everything else. If I get arrested, everyone will be out for my head. The blackmailed police will pony-up charges against me to force me to get rid of the blackmail on them, R-Raven will kill me to shut me up, then he'll just quit the theatrical bullshit and kill you all in your sleep!"
The receiver in Dave's hand spoke again, raising everyone's attention to it. "911, what's your emergency? Hello?"
"Listen!" The woman begged. "I'm the one who's been trying to keep him from killing any of you! I'm the one who's been directing you out of danger without him knowing, even though he's suspicious of me. The only reason why he hasn't tried to empty a gun in me is because my skills are too useful for him to just waste me without being absolutely sure that I've turned on him."
Her explanation barely even sounded plausible, but unbeknownst to Dave, both Alvin and Brittany who knew more of the details were somewhat convinced that this sounded…truthful.
"Well, what about Eleanor, huh? You tried to kill her! She's sick in bed downstairs because of you!"
"Then why did I try to help? It's better she's lying down in a bed than in a casket!"
The dispatcher's voice asked again for a report, sounding severe. "Hello? What's the emergency?"
"I never said that I was a good person." The woman choked back a sob; her mental traumas were almost as bad as her physically inflicted ones. "I never said I had pure intentions. I never wanted any of this to happen, or even to get involved."
"Then why would you?" Dave glowered at the woman, although his voice had softened just a smidgen. "Why would you want to help us?"
"Because I want to save the six."
=X=X=
Simon scratched his head. "What the-…is everything either 'analog' or manual with Ravin' Raven?" Simon squinted up at the mansion, carefully taking in how 'technologically deprived' the mansion was. No cameras, no sensors, not even an automatic gate. Just two half-asleep security guards by the front gate who didn't even have uniforms. Only jaded faces and batons.
That was it.
It had been a slow walk over; Simon had been getting second thoughts the whole way, seriously considering a retreat back to the safety of the hotel. Thoughts like 'I must be losing my mind' and 'why am I doing the police's work for them' were among the most reoccurring. Although to be fair, he managed to work up some synthetic confidence when he saw the mansion's apparent lack of 'real' security.
"Well, he doesn't splurge on the nicer things in life like live-video surveillance or even some barbed wire to top the fence," Simon muttered. He eyed the tall wall, wondering if he could scale it. 'Nah. I don't have enough 'Alvin' in me. Besides, I'm not sure if I could even get down from there without hurting myself if I even managed to climb it in the first place. Besides, there could be more guards that I still haven't seen, or maybe even some guard dogs. The whole place looks like it's trying to stay extravagant without having any real security comforts.'
He hemmed and hawed for a bit, wondering about his next move. He could already feel himself starting to lose his hard-earned confidence and bravado in coming here; maybe he should just turn tail and go back home. He turned stiffly to make do on what his common sense was telling him, intent to just go home. As he did, however, he took notice of a street-side beggar close by, begging for change. He looked fairly strong in body but addled in mind; most likely, he had abused drugs more often than not to get to his decadent state.
That was when he got an idea.
"Hey, buddy!" Simon called somewhat awkwardly to the beggar who looked up in response to his call. "Want to make an easy fifteen dollars?"
…
…
…
Simon grinned to himself as he walked brazenly through the front gate as if he owned the massive property. He already had his phone at the ready, already needing only a single tap to start recording. He regarded his own phone with passing interest; he had no means of being easily tracked or accessed by the mystery hacker but the more he thought about it, he realized that the mansion was exactly the same. The mansion and his phone, that is. Was Ravin' Raven actually working with the hacker? Or was the rapper afraid of the hacker?
He dared not to let his mind run away with him. He didn't know how long the distraction he had incited would last. His back-pocket was now fifteen dollars lighter, but the hopeless junkie he had paid off had climbed the wall and gallivanted across Ravin' Raven's lawn as if he had lost his mind. He probably lost his mind a long time ago, but that hardly mattered as the two gate guards had long left their responsibility unchecked to go after the junkie, and even guards Simon had missed seeing had taken up the pursuit. The man was certainly working for his pay, no doubt because he was desperate for it to purchase his next fix. Money, no matter how small, was good enough encouragement and the man was (literally) giving them a run for his money.
Simon stole through the shaded area of the mansion's grounds, hoping to conceal himself better until he got to a door, hoping to just find an easy way inside the extravagant house. He was disappointed at first to find that the side doors were locked, but before he could fully turn away from the house, he heard a loud television suddenly blare what sounded like action program. Judging from the volume, Simon recognized that it was probably a home theatre setup.
"Well, at least I know he uses electricity," Simon mumbled. He crouched-walked through the bushes that grew along the side of the house under windows. More than once, a branch snagged on his sweater-shirt for his pains to remain hidden should anyone chance by, but it eventually paid off when he made it to the window where he could hear the television the loudest. By simple logic, this meant that he had reached the room where someone must likely be. He ever-so-slightly raised his head and peaked through the glass of the closed window and saw an expansive television room with three or four occupants, all seated in easy chairs watching the television that was the size of a wall. While Simon didn't have a great angle to see all of what was on the television, he had the advantage of being in their blindspots. He could see them and as a plus, he could see them well and be prepared to duck his head should they turn around.
Not that they seemed very receptive in the first place. Judging from the smoke that rose from thick wadded rolls of what appeared to be marijuana, hookah chalices and spilled bottles of liquor, they were all stoned. Simon was no stranger to seeing the effects of the drug abuse in them; he supposed it was because he had read all about it.
"I swear, doesn't Vincent have cable?" One of them fumed. "F*ck, man! It's like he should have been born back in the seventies or eighties or something."
"Quit complaining. You should be more grateful that he lets you live here after your ma done kicked you out." The accent sounded southern. "I don't know why he entertains the likes of you for."
"Because I'm black, you f*ckin' racist? Don't think I don't know about that confederacy flag you have upstairs." Number one grumbled.
"I told you a hundre' times. It was a red and blue shirt that you saw, you cunt-rag. What I meant is that you hardly contribute around here. All you do is smoke, eat, sleep and cuss about nothing's on that you can watch."
"It's true!" Number one exclaimed. "Besides, I took care of that one girl…aw shit…I think…some kinda purple wearing girl."
"All you did was wreck Vincent's brand new BMW driving through some shit alleyway. If you weren't his cousin, he would've shot you between the eyes already." Number three chastised. "With the amount of dents that thing had, he might as well have to start over with a whole f*cking new car. You drove like a goddamn pisspot."
Simon's eyes widened. They were talking about Jeanette! Trying not to let his emotions get the better of him, he pulled up his phone and started video-recording the trio at the window, pressing the lens of the phone right against the window to ensure that there would be video clarity. 'C'mon, say something like that again, and be specific!'
"Hey man, take that DvD out. I'm tired of seeing that damn car-crash shit from last year over and over. Put in something else. But make sure you don't scratch it or Vincent'll will give you cement shoes to wear the next time you go for a swim."
"I can't bother to get up. Just leave it in. Besides, what's so special about that DvD anyways? It's like ten minutes long or something. It isn't even in a high-def." Number one found the remote close by next to a ganja blunt and picked it up. "Here's the remote." He changed the station to what should be normal television programming, but instead, the station snapped to a somewhat poor-quality view of…what was that? Someone in a bed, maybe? And…a visitor who sat beside them?
"What's with all that ruckus upstairs?" One voice asked softly. Simon's jaw dropped when he heard that. Was that…Eleanor?!
"I dunno." This sounded like Theodore! "Do you want me to go ask the people up there to quiet down?"
"That's really considerate of you, Theodore, but you don't really have a commanding presence. It'd be better if you just called the receptionist and have them tell the people to be quieter-"
The television shut off. "What the hell is with this shit, man! Every time, Raven has this kid's show crap going on!" Number one said as he placed the remote back down.
"That's closed circuit television, dumbass," number three said in a reminding tone. "We gotta keep watching rat singers to see if they're up to something. You think you get to just sit around doing nothing? We gotta keep watchin' em to make sure we stay one step ahead of them. It doesn't look like they feel like bugging out of Miami yet. Turn the TV back on."
Number one obliged, but changed the channel. "Huh. There's the purple one again. She's on her phone. Maybe she's tweeting or some shit like that. Or researching. She looks like the brainy type, you know? With those glasses of hers."
Simon gritted his teeth. 'So they bugged our suites and have cameras set up in there? They were watching us the whole time? Watching Jeanette and me?' He tried to console himself that he was getting some damning evidence, but he wanted even more. Something that showed a conspiracy to commit murder, not just a violation of privacy.
The station changed again. "I don't see the blue one. I don't see the red one or the pink one either."
'We have names, you…you…imbecile.' Simon smoldered in his mind.
"Well, rewind it a bit. See if we missed anything while we weren't watching them." Number three requested. Number one obliged him. "Whoa, whoa. They were in the closet. Damn. We should've had the hacker put a camera in there, huh?"
"They're kids, you sick f*ck." Number one said.
"Man, whatever. Porn is porn. Besides, they're probably just kissing or something, nothing serious," the second one muttered. "Man, just shut it off. Ain't nothing worth watching." The television was shut off at last. "Okay, now pass the chalice."
They had appeared to be settling into a drug-induced silence. Simon realized that his opportunity had dimmed and flickered out. He hadn't gotten anything extremely substantial, but it would have to do. He was about to put his phone back into his pocket, but was deterred by a frightening chamber click he heard behind him. Tentatively turning his head, his heart fell when he stared into the business end of a handgun, held in the hands of the burliest man he had ever seen.
"Well, well, well," Lamar said lowly. "If it isn't the smart one…guess you're not that smart to wander into our own backyard, now are you?"
And…scene.
Well, I guess you all just found out the meaning of Valerie's call-sign.
(1 want 2 セーブ the 6)
(I want to SAVE the six)
It's been a bit of a personal hell to be holding on to that secret for a long time. Oh well. Anyway, take care, and review to tell me your thoughts. (Glances at desktop clock.)
(23:05)
Oh, and goodnight.
Valete omnes,
MRAY 4TW.
