"Where are we going to go now?" Wade was right, where were they to go? They were all in a strange city. They all knew that it was America, but they were all somewhat new to the place. Sure, Mike had been here a couple of times while he was operating in Carcer City. But that was long ago. The Twin Towers of the Global Commerce Center were gone after the incident and the new thing on that plot of land was like a stalagmite. They had turned the old footprints to enormous fountains that held the names of all those who died. All he remembers about that day was that Yankton was silent. IT was more silent than ever before. No one spoke. There was nothing to say. Jimmy and Tracey were only seven and ten respectively, nut their faces showed a loss of innocence. But now was not the time to reminisce. It was time to figure out what he needed to do. Trevor spoke before he could.

"Well, Wade, I don't know but the Majestic in Star Junction sounds like a good option." Trevor said. He sounded… hopeful?

Michael, Franklin, and Lester traded investigatory looks, before Michael spoke. "Sure whatever,"

Tracey could not hide her excitement. She had stayed at many nice hotels, but this would be the nicest.

"Well we need some transport."

That announcement from Trevor was right. They would need two cars, at least. That was problematic. They were in the most secure airport in America. Mayor Ochoa, who was elected for a third term, and the feds made sure of it. They would have to make sure no alarms went off in the area. The blaring would alert the LCPD and NOOSE to any illicit activity. Franklin was the only one who knew had to pick locks, but that was also problematic. It would be suspicious if a black man in plain clothes was meandering around a parking lot. That was compacted by the fact that he would have to approach these cars and not enter them. He would be with two white men so that would eliminate some of the trouble. He decided to put on a blazer to prevent this. He would look like a valet.

Stealth was the name of the game right now. No noise, no sudden moves. Franklin was ready. He was going to be quiet, no silent as he approached these cars. He steeled himself, exhaling roughly. It was reminiscent of Mike doing yoga Amanda mentally noted. He opened and closed fists as to get his blood flowing, yet calm him. He took the few steps toward the back door of the hangar. The door was metal and painted a chocolate brown it had a stainless steel pushbar a waist level.

"Let's do this," Franklin whispered to himself, preparing himself.

He shoved open the door, dramatically. His eyes were closed as he opened it. He stepped out and to his left. Three cars. Three well polished Oracles. Three well polished, well parked, black Oracles. Three well polished, black Oracles complete with blacked out windows. Three well polished black Oracles with blacked out windows that had Liberty State diplomatic plates. It was too convenient. He approached them. He put his hand on the driver's side door. Unlocked. That was too much of a coincidence. Just then his phone began to ring. The number was unrecognized. He decided he might as well answer it.

"Who's this?"

"Just get into the damn cars already," the voice was familiar. It was Dave Norton's voice. Their favorite FIB agent was helping them.

"How the hell you know we here?"

"Michael is still my ward and since you other two were there, you've become sort of my responsibility too."

"Or," Franklin started as he rolled his eyes, "You have to cover us because you have to cover your ass… completely,"

"While I don't like that sort of wording, yes, you're right." Norton conceded. What kind of lie could he have made up that quickly?

"Okay, we'll stay low like we agreed."

"Yes, I'd very much appreciate that."

Frankly, Franklin was satisfied that that response from Dave. He didn't want to do any more favors for the Bureau as long as he lived. His question was how Dave would have known about they scheme to go to Liberty City. How did he know which hangar they would land at? How did he know anything? The partnership was dissolved. Well, dissolved as much as periodically erasing criminal records could be. It was a simple exchange. Say nothing to any government people about David Norton, say nothing about three bank robbers to federal government. Very simple.

While Franklin was pondering the imponderable he made the three steps back to the door of the current hideout. He opened it and told the entire group of their luck. Trevor was grateful.

"Maybe it is a good thing that you know some fucking feds, pork chop."

Michael didn't even look in Trevor's direction. They loaded the cars. Michael, Amanda, Tracey, and Jimmy took one. Trevor, Ron, Wade, and Chef took the second one. Franklin and Lester sat together in the last car. Michael took off first and the others followed although all three cars were equipped with GPS. They all drove following the law. With the diplomatic plates there was no need but they were now responsible citizens on the United States of America.

Michael's car had the most explosive of the conversation of all. While the party was on the Algonquin-Dukes Expressway, Tracey asked a very innocent question which kicked off an argument.

"So, how long are we going to be staying at the hotel?"

Michael and Amanda answered simultaneously.

"A week," he said

"Forever," she said

"What?" Tracey asked.

"A week," he said again.

"As long as I want to," Amanda said.

"Amanda, we will not be staying in that hotel for longer than necessary. We'll stay there while I look for a permanent place to live. Alderney will probably be the best place. We'll stay out of the limelight and be normal." He said this coolly and with an even voice. That was his prerogative. It wasn't hers.

"Michael, we can stay in the Majestic forever. Hell we could b-" She stopped herself and started again. "Why the hell are you so fucking stingy Michael? We stand behind you and travel across the fucking country and you want us to live in Alderney. Alderney, of all places, Alderney. Alderney, the state that lives in the shadow of the city."

"Amanda," he exhaled. He spat the name like it was poison. "We need to live in the shadows." He ignored everything else she said.

"No, Michael, you need to live in the shadows. You're the murderer. You're the one who puts our lives at risk."

"I just saved all your asses." His face was red and his knuckles were white, but he kept the speed limit.

Trevor could see the argument really well in his Oracle. He could see how Amanda was turned toward Michael as he was driving. He could see as their kids sunk into their seats. The conversation in his car was, well, a Trevor-oriented conversation.

"Wade," he started. "Have you ever been to Liberty City?"

"No, Trevor, never," Wade was wary. Anytime Trevor was nice to him something bad happened.

"Well, me neither. We can see the sights and hear the sounds. I'll even get you a L.C. hotdog."

"Really, Trevor?"

"Really. Want you to have fun my boy." Trevor ruffled Wade's dreads. It was easy because Wade had called shotgun."

The 'my boy' part made Wade uncomfortable.

There was mostly silence in Franklin and Lester's car

The Majestic hotel was, well, majestic. When the crew realized that they would be staying in Star Junction. Star fucking Junction. They all checked in. Michael took the suite that Isaac Roth used to occupy. No one wanted that room since Roth's assassination in 2007. They offered to sell him the room for $1,000,000. That was easy for him to afford he would have to think about it.

"We'll throw in free housekeeping for life." The manager said trying to rid himself of the loft.

"I said, 'I'll think about it'" Michael said in almost a whisper.

Franklin called Lamar to tell him he was safe. It was hard at first Lamar was scared shitless seeing a call from a friend he thought was dead. He thought it could have been the feds.

"IAA, or some shit," Lamar whispered to himself as he closed his blinds.

He didn't want to answer the call. Living in North Holland and being labeled a snitch wouldn't be safe. That's why he ignored the first call. He knew whoever the fuck it was, he didn't want to be north of Middle Park to talk to them. He hopped on the train to escape the neighborhood to receive the call. He hopped in the J from Frankfort Low. He weighed his options of where to get off. Vauxite… naw still in the hood. There were too many people who would recognize him there. Quartz West… nope Mrs. Johnson and her big ass mouth got off there to go to work. She claimed to be 'in the best interest of the North Holland community', but her son ran the crew that was constantly fighting with East Holland and South Bohan. Manganese West didn't work either. Hematite was perfect. A lot of people would be there, so he could blend in. Everyone would be occupied with their own stuff. Golden Pier was the perfect place to make a discreet telephone call.

When he arrived, he called F's number back.

"Hello, Lamar. Is it you?"

"Frank, you still alive. Shit, I thought you drowned out there in L.S." Lamar was relieved.

"No , I got out of there with Mike and his family, and Trev-"

"Crazy dude still alive! Shit, I thought he'd have been the first to die. Or outlive us all. You got a place to stay? Cuz you know a nig-"

"Yes, Lamar I got a place to stay in fact why don't you come over now. I'm at the Majestic on Nickel. You can take the subway right."

"Tanisha was right. Franklin got airs now. And you don't know shit about this town."

"Shut up and hurry your ass down here or up here or from wherever you at."

"Yes, Massa Clinton."

All Franklin did in response was groan and hang up.

Lamar arrived in a Liberty minute. He tipped the driver and walked into the building where he was immediately stopped by a security guard.

"Can I see some I.D. please?" He iquired as he started to grip Lamar's wrists.

"You ain't no cop. Let me go," Lamar said whining, thrashing.

"Stop resisting." The security guard was about to 'detain' him for 'questioning'.

Just then, Franklin stepped out of the elevator and into the crowd that had gathered to see the spectacle. Franklin waded into the crowd to see what was amiss. When he discovered a security guard straddling Lamar, he intervened. He marched over to now tomato-red security guard and with one hand lifted him off. Franklin spoke:

"This man is a friend of mine."

"He is Mr. Clinton?" Dumbfounded

"Yes he is." Brusque

"Well, I apologize to the both of you." The security guard was now in fear for his job.

Franklin helped Lamar up

"Thanks for helping a homie out, Frank." Grateful was Lamar.

"Shit that's what friends do." Franklin said as the manager came rushing through the crowd."

"You're so fired," said the manager.

The security guard removed his nametag and flung it across the room Mid-flight, it hovered in Franklin's face just long enough for him to read it. Herbert Moon.

Franklin and Lamar walked to the front desk. Franklin said only a few words to the hostess on duty.

"Can I get a room for Mr. Davis, here?" Lamar's face perked up. "Preferably one near my room on the fifteenth floor."

The manager came running to the desk. "Mr. Clinton, Mr. Davis. It would be an honor if you both stayed at the hotel for as long as you want gratis."

Franklin's face brightened a little at that announcement. Free anything was good. Lamar's face contorted in confusion.

"You can stay for free to avoid the bad press and your silence… or… um discretion," said the manager, sweating bullets. And by the looks of those bullets, they were .45's. Lamar's face also lifted at the good news.

"Sure we can accept that," Franklin said.

"I'll get your refund Mr. Clinton and your key Mr. Davis," the manager was till on edge. "Room 1527"

Franklin chuckled. He was going to find a permanent place to live. He'd do the same for Lamar. He might get his aunt a place far, far away from him where she and Magenta could work their bodies electric in peace.

Tell me how I'm doing with this. Candor is desirable.