Shoo, I swear the only time I love technology is when I'm working on a story : ) It's going to be uber hard to write the next chapter after these last few that just came to me in a flash. I hope this chapter makes sense and that the details lend to the overall story. I'm really glad that I persisted with this story; I thought I might give up on it and work on it at a later stage. With the next story I work on, I'm definitely switching back to a third perspective viewpoint. I'd forgotten just how hard it is to write from one person's perspective. I hope in this instance it doesn't limit the overall story-telling. You'll be a better judge of that. Now back to Landon or Lonce (what is their couple name?) fluff and action!
"Wait, let's back up a moment. You're sure this Kevin Moran is a chartered accountant who also works for DEMON?" Lance asked me in a quizzical tone.
Though I'd uttered the statement just seconds before, I myself was having trouble believing it. That could only mean the unthinkable: DEMON had somehow been infiltrated. And not just by some anonymous outsider, but by a man firmly in OPIUM's pockets.
"Positive. I've even seen him on a few occasions, going over the financial books for DEMON at the end of the month. He even has his own cubicle in the main office area; doing his work for everyone to see." I answered with a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
Both Lance and I were pacing the living room absent-mindedly as we tried to make sense of the name Reuben Marshall had given right before his untimely death. Suddenly, Lance stopped dead in his tracks as if he'd been hit by a bus.
"Do you think there's any chance that Kevin Moran may have done the financial books for other companies besides DEMON and Webster-Prewitt? Say for instance, Tipton Enterprises?" he asked cautiously.
I spun around on the balls of my feet and stared at him as the idea sunk in.
"It's possible, but that means that he was spying on my father too. But why would OPIUM send in a small fry to do it?" I questioned in bewilderment.
"Maybe there's more to it than just him being a regular accountant. Your father pulled out of his agreement with OPTIMUM on the eve of its commencement. Maybe Savoy sent this guy in to snoop around, find some dirt on your father and gain some kind of leverage." Lance stated haphazardly.
"But what kind of dirt could they have on my father that would be worse than full disclosure?" I demanded anxiously.
"Let's find out," Lance suggested.
And with that he went into his bedroom and retrieved his laptop. After plugging it into a power socket and connecting to the internet, he finally placed the laptop on the coffee table and opened up Tipton Enterprise's official website. It took a few seconds to locate the list of employees working at Tipton Enterprises. Sure enough, Kevin Moran's name was listed among the other chartered accountants in my father's employ. With a few more clicks of his fingertips, Lance had opened two more windows on his computer screen, one of them on my instruction. One was a classified FBI criminal database and the second was the official website for OPTIMUM Pharmaceuticals.
"What are you looking for in the FBI database?" I asked curiously.
"I want to see if Kevin Moran has a record." Lance responded quickly while tapping Moran's name into the search icon.
"Bingo!" Lance exclaimed a minute later after the database had retrieved a file on Kevin Moran. The information proved that Kevin Moran had (if not currently) an association with OPIUM for several years, having also done some freelance accounting work for the OPTIMUM as well.
"Take a look at this: Kevin Moran was initially arrested by the FBI for insider-trading and money laundering. He thinks of himself as some kind of financial consultant to powerful men. Apparently, he has quite the knack for giving rich businessmen hot tips on seemingly lucrative investments." Lance pointed out with a finger across the screen.
"What do you mean by 'seemingly lucrative investments'? Are they dud companies which Moran gets rich businessmen to invest in?" I enquired quickly while glancing at the information over his shoulder.
"No, they're not dud companies with little or no investment at all. Based on the information gathered by the FBI, they appear to be dummy companies, established by OPIUM I think. It looks like Moran's the man they use to lure rich businessmen into their operations. It usually occurs when OPIUM is looking to buy out a huge corporation." Lance replied matter-of-factly.
"The Chrysler Building. I bet you anything that OPIUM used Moran to try and blackmail Theodore Bosworth to gain control over the Bank of America. But Bosworth must not have backed down, that's why they bombed the building." I stated confidently.
"And that's probably the reason why they've taken the Tipton hostage too. Savoy's probably trying to force your father's hand into reaching an agreement. Whatever the delay is, I think it's because your father hasn't caved in yet." Lance agreed vehemently.
I felt a lump rising in my throat. What Lance was saying made sense. The fact that my father had tried to back out of his agreement with OPTIMUM meant that he hadn't wanted any of this to begin with.
"Well I hope he doesn't cave in until we find a way to rescue him and the other hostages." I murmured more to myself.
I continued looking over the list of companies affiliated with Tipton Enterprises while Lance leaned against the back of the sofa, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"But the question is, what dirt could Kevin Moran possibly have on your father based on his current business endeavours?" Lance asked wonderingly.
"I think I found the answer to that. Look at this headline on !Yahoo concerning this institution called Panacea. They're a medical facility dealing primarily in experimental drugs." I answered pointedly.
We both glanced over the article, which stated that the institution had become insolvent just a few days ago. Insolvency had been due to some controversy involving the purchase of certain medication by members of the public which proved defective.
"I'll try and hack into Panacea's main frame and see who it's main financial backers were before its insolvency," Lance suggested rapidly.
After a few more torturous minutes, Lance finally managed to hack into their private files. Close scrutiny showed that Wilfred Tipton was the main and seemingly only visible financial backer to the Panacea Institution.
"Lance, you were right. This must be the reason why Savoy is blackmailing Daddy. I bet you we'll also find our mystery synthetic peptide listed under one of Panacea's testing facilities." I stated cryptically.
After several more clicks of the mouse, Lance found the proof for that too. Panacea made the drug which killed Reuben Marshall. Panacea was also the institution which was going to ruin my father's reputation. Both Lance and I leant back against the sofa once more in thoughtful comprehension.
"So what do we do now? Take this to our superiors?" I queried curiously.
"No ways. We can't do anything until we obtain solid proof. I think we need to find this Kevin Moran and get the evidence we need. Once we have that, we can proceed from there." Lance answered firmly.
As much as I loathed the idea of the two of us having to do all the dirty work, I knew that Lance was right. I didn't know about Lynette or Salvador, but there was no way that Omar or Eleanor would take our words for it without any evidence. I just hoped that Kevin Moran would be willing to part with the valuable information that we required. Otherwise, I had no trouble persuading myself to bring out the numb chucks…
It was Thursday afternoon, a good 24 hours after Lance and I had made some startling discoveries concerning OPIUM's implicit involvement in Tipton Enterprises. We were currently sitting in a parked car across the street from the building of Webster-Prewitt in downtown Boston. Lance chose not to bring his own car to the stake-out; he decided to rent a car for the day in case anyone was following us or recognized his car, especially any OPIUM operatives in the area.
Lance and I had managed to find an address for one Kevin Josiah Moran and we had already taken the liberty of following him to work. He appeared to have already gone on his lunch break which he had taken around 13:30. And now the two of us were waiting for him to return to his office. Lance had made an appointment with Moran on the pretense on gaining a 'hot tip' on an investment banking firm. Lance also alluded to a referral from a man named Isaac Miller, who according to the FBI's investigations was a known affiliate of Moran's. Lance thought it would be better if he set up the meeting as opposed to me, whom Moran might recognize. According to the FBI database we'd hacked into, Moran's usual custom was to hold these meetings as far away from his office at Webster-Prewitt as possible to avoid detection.
Lance scrutinized the street for Moran's return. Then he nudged me quickly and pointed towards the main entrance of Webster-Prewitt. I grabbed Lance's binoculars and trained them on the spot he was pointing to. Sure enough, it was Kevin Moran strolling towards his place of work. He was roughly 26 years of age, 5 foot in height, skinny, pasty skin and short black hair gelled into neat spikes. From this distance I noticed that he was well-dressed, wearing a distinguished dark-grey suit, a royal blue tie and spectacles. He seemed harmless; the type of guy that brainy book-worm women fell hard for. But underneath that attire, I sensed an astute and cunning character. He was not a man to be underestimated under any circumstances.
"That's definitely him. You should call him before he gets inside," I instructed carefully.
Lance nodded and took out his cellphone and dialed Kevin Moran's number. We saw Kevin Moran fumbling for his cellphone in his jacket pocket about 2 seconds later. Then he picked up his phone and put on what seemed like his game face before answering.
"Hello?" he asked cordially with the slightest hint of a smirk.
"Kevin Moran? This is Lenny Shultz speaking. We spoke on the phone earlier," Lance began, speaking in a slight New Jersey drawl which made me want to giggle.
"Lenny Shultz, of course. I made a few calls. Are you still interested in those shares in Allan Gray?" Kevin Moran asked quickly.
"Yes I am. I already spoke to my client and he gave me the thumbs up for the two of us to discuss it further." Lance replied reassuringly.
"Excellent. Where should we meet?" Kevin asked curiously.
"You know that Starbucks about 4 blocks from your office? There's a warehouse just behind it. Meet me in the room on the 1st level marked 'Storage'." Lance responded matter-of-factly.
"I'll meet you there in 5 minutes." Kevin replied smoothly.
With that Lance hung up his cellphone. Then he glanced at me and grinned mischievously.
"Let's go have some fun," he suggested in a cocky tone.
We followed Kevin Moran in the car and parked it a few feet away from the Starbucks. Lance advised me to follow a few metres behind him to allow him time to meet Moran first before we questioned him together. First we watched as Kevin Moran snuck swiftly into the storage room. Then I gave Lance a 2-minute head start before following him into the storage facility. I entered the room just as Lance finished smooth-talking Kevin Moran and had pinned him up against the wall, Lance's elbow coming up to cover Moran's throat in a vice-like grip.
"Hey man, what the hell are you doing? What is this?" Kevin demanded in a wheezy voice while he struggled for air.
When I entered the room, something seemed to click inside of him based on the way his body stiffened up without any help from Lance's elbow around his throat.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Kevin muttered audibly when both Lance and I flashed our badges at him.
"Hiya Kevin. We just wanted to ask you a few questions concerning your involvement with the crime syndicate known as OPIUM," Lance began cordially, not releasing his grip on Kevin.
"You shouldn't be here. Do you know that a lot of people are looking for you?" Kevin asked, directing his question to me and ignoring Lance's statement.
"Who's looking for me Kevin? Some of your OPIUM friends?" I pressed pointedly.
"I'm not saying a word. You've got nothing on me." Kevin returned flippantly.
"Oh Kevin, you'd be surprised just how much we do know about your extra-curricular activities. Does the name Panacea mean anything to you?" Lance demanded in a menacing tone.
"Not really, I've never heard of it." Kevin squeaked rapidly.
"Really? That's not what we heard Kevin. Here's what I think: you give rich businessmen supposedly hot tips on seemingly lucrative investments which are actually dummy companies created by OPIUM to lure corporations into their clutches." I stated casually, coming to stand in front of him.
"You could've checked that easily against my criminal record. Besides, that's ancient history. I don't do that anymore, I'm totally legit now." Kevin responded vehemently.
"Bullshit. You gave Wilfred Tipton a hot tip on the Panacea Institution and he invested. But OPIUM made sure that the institution became insolvent on account of its false advertisement concerning the success rate of its medication. And that's when OPIUM sends you in, to start the blackmail." Lance stated harshly, increasing the pressure on Kevin's neck.
"You can't prove a thing. So why don't you just let me go and maybe I might forget about pressing charges against you for assault." Kevin hissed sharply.
"He's right Lance, we don't have anything on him. I guess we'll just have to arrest him on his hot tip concerning Allan Gray," I trailed off hopefully.
"What? What are you talking about?" Kevin demanded in a high-pitched squeak.
"You're absolutely right London. Offering an illegal tip to a special agent concerning shares that have already been claimed by another employer of Allan Gray. That's insider trading right there. And then there's Panacea of course. All we have to do is tell the FBI that you've been giving hot tips on a medical facility that's not serving the public interest's needs. When the FBI hears about this, you're looking at roughly 5-10 years imprisonment. So sorry for man-handling you bro, we'll just be on our merry way. You can expect a visit from the Bureau in about 24 hours. You take care." Lance greeted with a friendly smile.
Just as the both of turned to leave, Kevin called out to us.
"Wait, wait! What do you want from me?" he asked in a pathetic voice, all traces of the suave businessman gone.
"Give us some answers and maybe we'll cut you a deal. Tell us why you've been blackmailing my father." I thundered.
"I had to, it was the bosses' orders. He wanted his hands on the Tipton and Mr. Tipton wouldn't give it to him. Apparently, Tipton checked up on my credentials and found a few discrepancies. He called me into his office and confronted me; he knew everything about my involvement with OPIUM. I went to see the boss right after and he told me to start the blackmail. I went back to Tipton's office and I threatened him with exposure concerning his involvement in the Panacea Project as well as the Shangri-La Hotel scandal 2 years ago." Kevin responded haphazardly.
"The Shangri-La Hotel? But that was a misunderstanding. The FBI didn't find anything." I retorted impatiently.
"The FBI didn't find anything because Daddy covered his tracks well. Tipton never got the loan he required from the Bank of America to buy out the owner of the Shangri-La. Your Daddy got the help of a loan shark to cover the deficit." Kevin sneered.
Lance glanced at me briefly and decided to pursue this particular line of questioning.
"Okay, so Wilfred Tipton got money from a loan shark? That's not exactly front page news. There are tons of businessmen who seek financial help from other sectors." Lance stated casually.
"There's more to it than that. Tipton was aware that the owner of the Shangri-La was running a money-laundering racket out of his own hotel. Daddy made a deal with the owner to buy him out for half of the purchase price if he kept the entire money laundering ring quiet. But Tipton got cold feet and pulled out of the agreement. But not quick enough before the FBI started investigating." Kevin replied cryptically.
"You keep referring to the boss. Is the boss Laurent Savoy?" Lance pressed urgently.
"The very same. Of course, he's the new kid on the block these days. I did a couple of jobs for Alexei Novak right before your guys picked him up." Kevin answered matter-of-factly.
"And when exactly did my father confront you when he got wind of the Panacea Project?" I demanded hurriedly.
"Let's see, today's Thursday. That means it was about Tuesday when he called me into his office. And that's when the hostage situation commenced at the Tipton." Kevin noted frankly.
That got me thinking. Two days ago, Daddy wouldn't hear of anything concerning his agreement with OPTIMUM when I confronted him. But maybe something I said triggered something in him that everything wasn't as above board as it seemed. Maybe he saw the news headline concerning Panacea's insolvency and he did some digging. He comes across Kevin Moran's file and sees some discrepancies. He confronts Moran and decides then and there to pull out of the Tipton agreement with OPTIMUM. But before he can, Laurent Savoy pays him a visit and OPIUM thugs drag him back to the Tipton and take the entire building and its occupants hostage. This means that Daddy believed me and he was trying to do the right thing before he became a hostage. This epiphany brought a lump to my throat and made me even angrier at Kevin Moran and the rest of OPIUM.
"So you admit that you gave my father the hot tip on Panacea in the first place?" I demanded heatedly.
"Yeah, yeah, I gave it to him all right." Kevin muttered emphatically.
"So what now Kevin? You gonna head over to the Tipton and report back to the boss?" Lance asked maliciously.
Kevin stared at the two of us like we'd missed something important.
"Are you crazy? I can't just waltz up to the Tipton with cops all around and ring the bell! As far as the cops know, Laurent Savoy is just another victim of the hostage situation along with Wilfred Tipton and everyone else." Kevin spat sardonically.
"You mean the cops don't know that Laurent Savoy's in charge of this coup?" I demanded in disbelief.
"Either they're really slow or they haven't connected the dots that Laurent Savoy is also the head of OPIUM." Kevin acquiesced.
"That latter seems more likely." Lance agreed solemnly.
"Am I free to go?" Kevin demanded impatiently.
"Not yet. What is Laurent Savoy planning to do with the hostage situation?" Lance questioned urgently.
"Whatever he does all depends on Tipton. If Tipton refuses to do business with OPIUM, the hotel will probably be blown to smithereens. But if Tipton decides to play ball, my guess is that the Boss will try to spin the situation in a good light with the media. I hear he's working on spreading a rumour that OPIUM took the Tipton Hotel hostage because of Panacea's illegal experimentation and a grudge against Wilfred Tipton. My guess is that the Boss will strike some sort of deal to make it look like OPTIMUM has pacified OPIUM by getting them to hand the Tipton over to them. That way, he gets the hotel and drags Tipton's name through the mud at the same time." Kevin responded ominously.
"Alright Kevin, you've told us a lot more than we expected. We'll make a deal with you. No jail time if you agree to make a statement against Savoy and the entire syndicate. You're free to go." Lance instructed carefully.
"Just like that? And how do you two know I won't find some other way to communicate with the Boss and tell him that I talked?" Kevin asked smoothly.
"We don't. But if you do open your big mouth, know this Kevin: when we find a way into the Tipton and arrest the Boss and the asses of every last OPIUM thug in that building, we're coming after your ass too." I answered in a low voice wrought with hostility and menace.
That seemed to do the trick because Kevin's sneering smile vanished off his face.
"Fair enough," he conceded.
"We'll be in touch." Lance said with finesse and a grin on his face.
Lance turned back towards me as Kevin exited the building.
"Did you get that?" he asked conspiratorially, glancing over at the bulge in my pocket.
I deftly retrieved a miniscule tape recorder from my pocket and held it in my palm.
"Every word." I responded gleefully.
After the meeting with Kevin Moran, Lance drove the rental back to the shop and retrieved his own car. Then we drove back to Bellevue Hill and we began working on a plan to get into the Tipton. I managed to procure a blueprint of the hotel's entire layout from City Hall, detailing areas such as the garbage disposal unit all the way to the rooftop. After that, the two of us spent the rest of the afternoon back at Lance's house poring over the blueprint. We stopped for a break around 9pm when Lance decided to make a late dinner. We dined on a meal of Pasta Alfredo and Pepsi washed down with Haagen Dasz. Like a true gentleman, Lance offered to let me shower first after we had washed and dried the dishes in the kitchen. After I was done, I went straight to Lance's room to change into some sleep wear while he showered. Tonight I abandoned Lance's Celtics tracksuit ensemble for something more up my alley. When I went shopping yesterday, I bought myself a new emerald-green nightdress (which wasn't revealing enough to be considered lingerie) that went down to my knees. I decided to wear it because the infamous Boston humidity had caught up with Bellevue Hill too, making the night air sultry and sticky. I opened up the patio doors leading out towards the tiny balcony. And I stood out there for a while, just admiring the stars enveloped in an indigo haze. I'm not sure how long I stood out there, just soaking up my surroundings before I heard padded footsteps behind me.
"Beautiful night isn't it?"
I turned around to face Lance, who was standing a few feet away from me in the living room and folding his arms. He too was dressed for bed, but equally dressed down for the occasion like myself. He was wearing nothing but a black sweat pants which covered his lower body. His hair was still wet from his shower and it glistened against the rest of his tanned and chiseled frame. I took in his appearance for a few seconds before I answered his question.
"It sure is. I could stand out here forever," I murmured more to myself.
Yet, with a knowing chuckle, I quietly moved back inside and shut the glass doors with a gentle push.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Living this high up in the hills on a night like this, it makes you forget everything. It's like I don't have to think of anything or anyone else. I don't have to be a secret agent, I don't have to be a lifeguard. Up here, it's just me." Lance admitted as I came to stand in front of him.
"I wish it were that simple for me. The outside world is all I can think about. Not knowing if the people that I love are safe scares me. Not knowing what will happen tomorrow scares me too." I replied sincerely while placing an unwanted strand of my hair behind my ear.
"It scares me too. But I promise you this: whatever happens tomorrow, we'll do it together. I will always be here for you." Lance reassured me with such intensity that took my breath away.
"I know that and I'm grateful. But I hate to think it'll just be the two of us fighting alone tomorrow against everyone, even our allies." I confessed despondently.
"Maybe it won't just be us two. Our superiors may not listen to us, but there may be others in our ranks willing to listen to us. Know anyone?" Lance enquired curiously.
"Well there's my friend Alec, we've been through a hell of a lot together. He's always had my back. And there's also Jade and Mark, we've done a lot of missions together in the past. If we need some back-up, they might just be able to help." I replied frankly.
"I was hoping you'd say that. From my side, I've also got four agents who may be able to help us: Chris, Sean, Vince and Greg. We've done a lot of missions together in the past, like kidnapping Reuben Marshall from DEMON. Greg's the one who slammed your face into the ground and cuffed you at the Tipton." Lance reminded with a wry smile.
"Ah, good times. It seems like a lifetime ago. I took so much for granted then." I declared morosely.
"So did I, I've wasted so much time. But no more; whatever happens tomorrow, I'm going out swinging." Lance assured me with a grimace.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that fighting's not the answer?" I teased lightly, which made him smile.
"I used to believe that a long time ago. But I've learnt recently that the only way to survive is to fight, especially when the things you love are at stake. I always used to be a 'by-the-book' kind of guy. But I've broken all the rules now, ever since you came into my life. The rules don't mean a whole lot to me if I can't be with you the way I really want to. The only question is whether I've already missed my chance." Lance responded slowly.
The air that was trapped in my throat felt like it was racing down through my chest into my stomach, where it gathered into a packet of panic and desperation. Lance was gazing intently at me in a way which made my legs go numb from my knees down to my toes. I could feel a knot forming in my stomach, twisting my nerves and senses mercilessly. I could hardly believe what he was saying to me, and yet my heart was thumping violently in my chest with each syllable. I knew right then and there that I was at a cross-road. This much was clear: I had two choices in front of me. Would I tell the truth or would I tell lies? Lies, lies, lies, I told myself stubbornly. My whole life seemed to be a string of lies tangled together in their innate confusion and haphazard paranoia when someone like myself desperately doesn't want to face the truth. Brandy had died keeping my secrets. Whether I was smart or a secret agent, it was all in my head. But what was in my heart? Would I let more people die to keep my secrets safe? But this was different from the secrets; those secrets hid the truth. But this lie that I had told myself every day was to stop from going crazy, to avoid the one thing that I knew would pulverize my fragile heart. Could I avoid it any longer? Did I want to avoid it?
I already had my answer when my numb legs guided me forward towards Lance. And then I leant in closely to his ear.
"No you haven't," I whispered frantically.
No more lies, I told myself, right before I grabbed Lance's head forcefully in my hands and steered it towards my lips. I don't know what was guiding me, whether it was love or desire. But a surge of emotion shuddered through me as I placed my hands on Lance's muscular chest and traced every inch of skin, scar and bone with my fingertips. And right then and there, I didn't care anymore. The people I loved were still trapped and in danger. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. But Lance was still here, safe and breathing. He was tangible. And I realized that I needed him. I needed him to control me.
And that's exactly what he did as his lips became more persistent against mine. I opened my mouth and let his tongue graze swiftly and gently against my lips as he kissed me with unrepressed tension. His strong arms enveloped my body, his hands doing what mine what were doing, exploring every contour of my skin, grabbing fistfuls of my night dress and tugging on it impatiently. I could feel the knot in my stomach loosening as Lance continued kissing my upper and lower lips one by one in a rhythmic pattern. I heard my name come out from his muffled mouth in a moan as I rubbed my hands roughly against his chest. The sound made my breath quicken as I transferred my hands to his head and ran them almost painstakingly through his wet curls. Just as we both stopped to take a breath, Lance moved his hands and grasped wildly at my hair.
"What do you want?" he asked in a raspy tone, his hands still in my hair, our foreheads touching as he gasped against my mouth.
While I willed my heart rate to calm itself, I did some thinking. Lance was giving me a choice here, leaving it entirely in my hands. And no one knew better than I about the effort it took to think rationally in situations like these. And now I had to think about what I wanted. What did I want? Based on the last few minutes, try the last few weeks, I would've thought it'd be obvious. All I wanted was to melt into his arms and just given in, but not tonight. The Tipton and its inhabitants were weighing on my mind. And I was so tired, my body feeling distinctly run down from stress, worry and inadequate sleep. Whatever the cross-road was before me, it would have to wait. Reality was just a few hours away.
"I really want to sleep." I confessed with a jerky laugh as comprehension sunk in once more.
"Okay." Lance replied softly.
My grip on his hand didn't loosen even as he turned to go towards his make-shift bed.
"Will you stay with me tonight and just hold me?" I asked him in a whisper.
"Sure." Lance agreed with a ready smile.
He let me lead him by the hand into his own bedroom as we both crawled under the duvet. I leaned my back gently against his chest. I smirked to myself when I felt his arms steel around my back and wrap themselves tightly around my waist. Lying in his arms somehow felt right, the best I'd felt in the longest time. I felt strands of Lance's curls tickling the side of my cheek while I listened intently to his heart beating against his chest. The pace was a dull rhythmic undertone, throbbing in time to the breath coming out of my nose.
"Goodnight Lance," I murmured quietly, my eyelids drooping slightly as I placed my hands on those draped across my waist.
"Goodnight London," Lance murmured back, his breathing becoming restful by the second.
Within minutes, we were both asleep.
That night I dreamt about the Chrysler Building again. The furls of smoke were still protruding out of the debris in wisps of cloud. My mother wasn't there this time, but I wasn't surprised to see Brandy standing in front of me.
"Brandy, I'm so confused. I don't know what to do." I murmured helplessly while she stood before me with a placid smile on her face.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere," she chided while caressing my cheek gently.
"Brandy, I'm scared. I don't want anyone to die this time."
"Everything will be okay London. You know what you have to do."
"But I don't! I don't have a clue what to do!"
"Yes you do. No matter what anyone says, you're not an idiot. The answer's right in front of you." Brandy urged impatiently.
"But Brandy, I have no idea how to get into the Tipton. OPIUM's stolen it from me." I responded morosely.
"London, no one can steal what's rightfully yours." Brandy replied firmly, placing both her hands on my shoulders this time.
"But I don't know how to get in."
"Yes you do! The Tipton's your home. No one knows a home better than the owner. There's no corner or passageway that's hidden from you."
"But Brandy-"
"Listen to what I'm saying London! Remember, it is impossible to win the race unless you venture to run. It is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle. How do you get into the Tipton? Simple: use the back door."
And with a wink, Brandy kissed me gently on the cheek and walked back towards the swirls of cloud and smoke.
That's when I woke up. Without thinking, I shook Lance awake, who was snoring by now. When I finally roused him, he opened his eyes and murmured something that sounded like 'mermaids' before he looked at me.
"Lance, wake up! I've just had an epiphany!" I squealed in excitement as I sat up.
"London, what is it? It's 4 in the morning," Lance groaned while scratching his head.
"I've figured out how to get into the Tipton undetected." I announced proudly.
That got Lance's attention as he sat up in bed to face me.
"And how are we going to do that?" he asked seriously.
"Simple: we're going to break in." I declared with a sly grin on my face.
May I just say that after fantasising about writing down the kiss scene between London and Lance for months on end, it was harder than I initially anticipated. I really do appreciate how hard it is to write down the perfect kiss. And I wanted this one to be good, but honest too. I tried not to make it too Mills & Boon or soft-porn like. But seriously, please let me know what you thought of the kiss scene and whether I nailed it or not. But I would also appreciate a critique on the overall chapter too. Next chapter will definitely have more of our favourite TSL characters, I promise. Sigh, the next chapter's going to be a bitch : )