Chapter CXVIII: I Still Think It Was A Good Idea

June 8, 2544 UNSC Calendar)/three months later

Esztergom (Ezhtergom), Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

"Heck of a joyride, isn't it..."- Rusty Nail

"We're going to be late!" Pavel yelled frantically.

"No we're not!" I replied, gripping the rental's dashboard so hard that my knuckles were beginning to turn white. "Cam, step on it!"

"Music to my ears!" the woman replied before the car lurched forward with a newfound burst of speed.

"She's gonna kill us!"

"You want to arrive or not?" I asked him, not daring to pry my eyes away from the road. "Truck. Truck, truck, truck, truck, truck, truck!" I couldn't close my eyes as Camilla suddenly hit the emergency brake and feathered the steering wheel, prompting the vehicle to twist sideways and start drifting.

"We're gonna die!" Pavel screamed.

"I hate to agree with little Miss Sunshine here, but she drives like crazy," Schitzo said.

Truth be told, Camilla wasn't driving any crazier than she did in combat. She was driving exactly like she did in combat. Not only was she going over the speed limit by a lot, she was driving so recklessly that more than once I had seen death's pale face and felt her cold touch. I'm not even being dramatic here, I felt cold spots whenever we squeezed in between two semis. Camilla also took advantage of every single opportunity to use the hand brake in the car. She was going to wreck the brakes and bust a tire if she continued this anymore.

"We have cops chasing us!" Pavel cried. I swear the man was about to piss his pants.

"Want me to lose them?" Cam asked. Well, actually it was more like she was daring me to tell her to.

"No, take the speedway and the third exit."

"Negative Sarge," she replied. "I can make it quicker if we go underneath the speedway."

"You won't be able to keep this pace!" I replied. "Take the speedway. Take it, take it, now! Dammit you missed it!"

"Hold on to your seat!"

I did hold on, just not to my seat. I pressed my hands against the ceiling and windows as Cam did her best to flip the car around. At one point she had to take an alley because otherwise she would've crashed against a wall. I winced as the car banged against piles of boxes or small trashcans, leaving sizeable dents on the forward bumper.

"That car's under my name!"

"It'll be worth it Pavel!" I told him.

"You just had to break up with Marina!" he complained. "She could've just flown us there!"

"You're welcome to start fucking her if you want a ride!" I snapped back.

"Oh Frank, you make me feel all tingly when you talk like that," Cam chuckled.

I turned around, forgetting about everything for a moment. "Not the time Grass!"

"Sorry," she apologized, even bothering with a cute little pout. "Would you have yelled at me if I was one of the guys?"

"I would've kicked you out of the car," I replied matter of factly. "Wall!"

Camilla skidded and stopped with my window literally inches from the wall itself. I allowed myself a breath of relief before grabbing onto my own knees and squeezing hard, intending to use the pain as a way to distract myself from the near death. If Cam hadn't floored the accelerator I probably would've cut through my jeans. I suppressed a scream as the car shot forward, the sound of sirens louder and louder.

"There's a goddamned Hornet on our ass!" Pavel complained.

"How long before they hit us with an EMP?" I asked Cam.

She thought about it for a second. "Standard protocol dictates that if the hostile vehicle has continuously evaded arrest it will be hit as soon as possible."

"How long until we get there?" Pavel asked. "I don't want to be arrested, especially not now!"

"Just a little bit more Pavel," I assured him. "Cam, you have my permission to leave these bastards behind."

I immediately wished I hadn't said that.

The high buildings and speedway above us gave us pretty decent protection from the Hornet above us and its EMP. The police Hogs on our ass didn't have their own EMP devices and were unwilling to shoot at us because we hadn't shot them yet. Still, I could tell that they were pissed at us. Especially because we had been evading them for over forty minutes straight. Yes, I had been in this living hell for more than half an hour and still encouraged our fearless pilot to push us closer to death. So far she hadn't disappointed me. In the pushing us closer to death part.

"There!" she cried in joy. "The hospital!"

"Floor it!" Pavel told her with newfound valor.

As soon as we made a run for the hospital we were hit with an EMP, the first shot must've hit the engine because the car immediately turned off and kept on moving forward. Cam drove in between two cars and through a nice patch of purple flowers before hitting the hand brake and skidding sideways, stopping in between a pair of marble columns, five feet away from the glass entrance and inches away from an old woman in a wheelchair.

"Go see your woman Pavs," I told him. "We'll stall them."

"Hey," Cam said, stopping him.

"Yes, thank you."

"You can thank me by naming your child after me, maybe her middle name."

"Amber doesn't like two names on a person," Pavel informed her.

"Ah, Hispanic naming traditions also exist in other places I see," I chuckled. "Now go before we're all tasered."

"Course, got it."

Pavel opened the door and took one moment to apologize to the old lady before running through the doors, frightening two nurses that had inched closer to see just what the hell was going on in the entrance. Pavel ignored them and dashed towards the elevators like a man possessed. I simply sighed, my head was already beginning to spin wide circles. Cam, on the other hand, looked like she had just had the best orgasm in her entire life. She was practically beaming with joy at the whole experience.

"Ok, let's buy him some time," I said, remiss to the situation.

Cam nodded and unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt, revealing the top of a yellow bra with lace. She opened up the shirt a little bit before undoing her ponytail and letting her short blonde hair fall down to her shoulders. "Don't stare too hard Frank," she teased.

"Yellow?" I asked. "With lace?"

"Hey, it was on sale!"

"Whatever, let's go."

We walked out of the car with our hands raised just as five Hogs skidded to a stop. Two policemen emerged from each car aiming at us with pistols and shotguns and yelling for us to freeze. I swallowed my annoyance and fear and did my best to put on my biggest, brightest smile. I could tell that Camilla was taking full advantage of her physical appearance as well as her rather generous assets. She was pushing her chest out ever so slightly and had a cute expression on her face. She gave me a quick knowing smile, prompting me to roll my eyes.

"Boys, please," she said loudly. She had changed her tone to make it sound sexy and alluring. It worked, at least for me. "Can't we do something to fix this?"

I looked up to see two news Hornets as well as a few remote news drones.

The next thing I know my head is being slammed hard into the rental car. Cam's joined a moment later, urging her to complain loudly to the officer manhandling her. "I tried Sarge," she apologized.

The cops weren't happy, especially because we had just set the record for the longest car chase in the history of Esztergom. A car chase was considered long if it lasted twenty minutes, we had just gone twice that length of time and were only stopped because we had left the safety of the buildings to make a dash towards the hospital. Obviously, the EPD wasn't happy with us at all. Especially after it became clear that we only did that to get our friend in time to be with his wife for when his first child was born.

We were viewed with sympathy by the media apparently.

The police captain slammed his hands down on the metal table for the third time. "Now what the hell made you think that breaking three dozen traffic laws would be a good idea?"

I've had enough of this. "Listen officer, I've already told your underlings the reason if you d-"

"What my sergeant is trying to say," Cam interrupted suddenly. "Is that it was the only way for our friend to be there before his baby was born." She looked up with a small pout and batted her eyelashes at the captain. "You seem like the man women would want to snag, you're probably married and have children, you understand, don't you?"

No ring.

"As a matter of fact," the captain growled. "I don't."

Camilla immediately realized her mistake and started babbling apologies. She was trying to be cute, sexy, and sweet at the same time. Normally she wouldn't even have to try to pull it off, but on this occasion she was just messing it up.

"Cam," I cut in. "Shut up."

"Listen to your friend," the officer agreed. "He seems to have more common sense than you do."

"Go figure," Schitzo chuckled lightly.

"Listen Captain," I started. "I already said that we are all very sorry for what happened, we are law-abiding citizens and have no prior criminal history." I took a breath and looked around. "On this planet," I added, eliciting a raised eyebrow from both of the other occupants of the room. "Still," I went on. "We caused no property damage other than a few overturned trashcans. We'll gladly pay the fine and Cam here will do the community service. There's no need to make this any bigger than it already is."

"You evaded arrest," the cop punctuated.

"I am aware officer," I said, keeping my anger in check. I was that close to punching the captain. I probably could've managed to rip the handcuffs from the table with only minor lacerations to my wrists with my artificial strength. "The thing is, the media seems to sympathize with us, one of your underlings was kind enough to tell us. If you convict us you'll get some pretty bad press, is it really worth it for just a few days in prison?"

The captain got a satisfied smirk on his face as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You see, that's where it falls apart for you. Bad press I can handle. You two and your friend will be dishonorably discharged from the Corps and won't be getting jobs any time soon because you're going to be ex-cons. By the time you leave prison the whole world will have forgotten about your little adventure."

I shook my head. "I believe that you read my file already," I half-stated, half-asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Did you read it or just skim it?"

"I read it," he snapped irritable. "Get to the point."

"Well then you probably know that-" I was about to reach for my sleeve and show him my ODST tattoo but stopped when I realized I was still handcuffed to a fucking table. "-the tattoo on my arm isn't just for show. Cam and myself are both Helljumpers."

The captain did seem a little bit perturbed by that statement, but steeled himself when he remembered that we were both chained to a table. He should've been more nervous the table wasn't bolted to the floor and I could probably kill him with my hands still cuffed. Camilla would never allow that though.

"As ODSTs," I continued, "we are highly respected members of the special forces community, when that little scrap of information surfaces, the attention to this case will only triple."

Cam nodded. "Think about it Captain, three spec-ops operators break the law to get their friend to the hospital in time to see his baby being born, do you really think the public will stand for that? This isn't one of the outer colonies, people here actually like the military. Little kids dream about becoming soldiers here."

That's the Camilla that I liked and loved. In a completely non-romantic way.

"Sir, if we are incarcerated you will have an entire city going mad." That was a lie, I had no idea how they would react. I could've really used Grigori and his subtle manipulation techniques in here. "The Corps themselves won't be too happy about it either."

The captain, to his credit, appeared unimpressed. "What makes you think you're right."

I sighed and shook my head. "Ok, I really, really hate pulling this card, but for the sake of convenience I'll do it. If you do proceed with your plan to convict us you'll receive a call telling you not to go through with it. Now I don't know the exact details of the call, but if my superior is in a bad mood it would be your career that is the one that ends abruptly. Now I know that this is incredibly cliché and sounds like I'm a deranged lunatic doing an ass-pull, but on the off-chance that I'm right, you've got a shit-ton to lose. If you release us with comparatively light punishments such as a fine and community service you'll get good press and you get to keep your job."

There was a very long pause in the conversation.

"No," I groaned. "She's not going to call immediately."

"Huh," Cam said. "I half expected a junior cop to walk in telling you that you had a call from your superior."

"You are members of the ODSTs," the captain conceded. "And your military file was completely blocked off from view no matter how many times I appealed the Corps. I've arrested my fair share of military types, most of their files are open to police viewing."

"There you go," Cam said excitedly. The way she moved made her breasts jiggle. I looked away from her and smiled to myself at that. "Everybody wins. Sort of."

"Very well then," he conceded after thinking about it some. "I'll keep you in the precinct overnight and release you tomorrow first thing. You'll pay a pretty heavy fine, believe me, the heaviest that I can manage, and then you'll get some hours of community service."

"Thank you captain, you're making the right choice."

"Of course," he smiled. "And I don't expect any favors in return."

I nodded, it wasn't completely unexpected. "Nothing illegal in any case," I said.

"Not particularly," he replied. "But you two understand, don't you?"

"Of course," Cam said, her tone back to a sexy one. This time it actually worked.

We were both led out of the questioning room by four young officers. The two men escorting me were a little bit nervous, making it a point to handle me with care. One of them kept stealing glances at Cam, who still had the top buttons of her blouse undone and her yellow bra displayed proudly. I am also proud to say that one of the female officers escorting her made eye contact with me. I gave her my best smile and she actually flushed before looking away.

Frank, you dog, you've still got it.

That thought was followed by: Why the hell do I think in English?

I was leaning forward, my head pressed against the bars of my holding cell. Cam was lying down on the small bed her own cell had. She was all by herself while I had three mafioso wannabes occupying the only sitting place in the whole room. They had done their best to intimidate me when I arrived, but I managed to restrain myself and not snap all of their necks.

I heard a noise and looked towards the entrance, a cop was walking with Pavel in tow.

"Pavel!" I exclaimed. "I was beginning to think that they shot you."

"Almost, but not quite," he replied.

"Did you make it?"

He stopped to smile at me. "Damn right I did."

I smiled back and extended my hand through the bars to pat him in the back, quickly retracting it when the cop escorting him glared at me. "How was she?"

"She's beautiful."

"I'm glad to hear that buddy," I said.

"Did you name her after me?"

"Lavanya already had a name before she was born," Pavel told Cam.

"Come on, not even a middle name?"

"What, Lavanya Camilla Klaus?"

"What about Lavanya Lilja Klaus," she shot back.

"Who the hell is Lilja?"

"I'm Lilja!"

"You have a middle name?"

"How long have you even known me?"

"Shut up!" the cop ordered.

We all complied as Pavel was shoved in another empty cell. Out of all three of my squad members only I got the one with the vaguely threatening hoodlums growling at me.

I took their pathetic attempts at glaring for a few hours before three cops came in.

"You're free to go," they told us as they opened our doors.

I turned around to face my three cellmates. "Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure, I wish you all the best."

"Move along," one cop said, urging me to leave.

"So, what are you going to do?" I asked Pavel.

"Go back to the hospital, do some damage control with Amber. She wasn't really glad when a SWAT team kicked down the door to her room while her baby was on her hands. I swear, the guys could've left just from the way she was screaming at them. I just about knocked them cold too for waking my girl."

"Aw, that's so sweet." You could tell that Cam was a girl.

"What about you Cam?" Pavel asked. "Gonna tell your parents that you've been a bad girl?"

"What they don't know doesn't hurt them."

"Do they get Reach news on Earth?" I asked. I honestly didn't remember.

"A few," Cam shrugged. "Only the most important, I hardly think that this would qualify."

We were all unceremoniously kicked out of the police precinct out the back door. I had been wearing a sweatshirt with a hood, which I promptly put over my head, pulling it to cover a bit of my face. Cam was wearing only a blouse and short shorts, which gave her almost no protection from the media, and Pavel, well, he was putting on a pair of sunglasses on.

"Nice shorts," he told Cam before boarding a cab. "Don't tell my wife I said that."

Camilla blushed a little before looking uncomfortable in her summer clothing. "Where are you going Frank?"

I waved down a cab, keeping my eyes open for those parasites called reporters. "I'll be down to the Grenadier in a while, just gotta take care of something before."

She shrugged. "Sure, I'll go home and change, maybe meet you down there."

"Sure," I replied, boarding the automated yellow vehicle. I waved at her as the door closed. "Stark Tattoo Parlor," I ordered. "And play some music will ya."

"What music would you like?" the cab's computer asked.

I looked around, making sure that there was nobody that I knew. I was alone in the cab and Camilla was already fading into the distance. "Artist: Two Steps From Hell."

"Searching, artist found. Playing."

I leaned back and relaxed as the music flooded my ears. It wasn't exactly relaxation music, but I really enjoyed the feeling of power and inspiration that it gave me. While listening to this shit I felt like I could take on an entire Covenant fleet armed only with a rubber band and a rock. Not that I would ever let Rob know that I actually enjoyed his stupid music and movies.

"We've arrived," the cab said.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," I replied. "I can see that. Charge it to my account."

"Of course Gunnery Sergeant, it has been a pleasure."

"Yeah, yeah," I dismissed. I suddenly felt stupid, most people didn't even bother talking to the AI in charge of the cars.

The parlor was open, it was pretty late, but it was still open. There were a couple of cars parked in the parking lot, a large van and a pretty modern-looking convertible. I took in the information, analyzing it in case it meant trouble. I had tried to stop seeing the danger in everything a couple of times before, but by this time I'd gotten used to it. I could have anywhere from two to ten hostiles inside, little to no cover and just a knife and a pistol for a weapon. The cops had been nice enough to give those back without making a fuss. Hey, I had the license for them.

I opened the door to see a grand total of four patrons in addition to an equal number of artists. Since this was an old-fashioned parlor all of the work was done with needle pistols and by hand. It was what the brave men got, at least that's what they told us in bootcamp, they probably couldn't afford a decent tattoo mold.

"Hey Stef," I greeted as soon as I saw the owner of the shop.

She looked up from a costumer and then snapped her attention back to her task. "Stef? I wasn't aware we could shorten each other's names already."

I shrugged. "I had you saved as Stef on my phone, didn't know whether you were Stephanie or Stefánia."

"Ha, ha," she replied. "From the grin on your face I can tell that all of your team is still alive."

"True," I agreed. "Just came in to check if you got all the information you wanted."

"Yeah, I got it," she replied. "Thanks."

"How's Tarkov?"

"Mentally scarred," she replied with a sigh. "At least he's keeping it together."

"Good to hear that…I guess. Next time you talk to him tell him I said hi."

"Sure."

"And you might want to pull your shirt up."

She squeaked in surprise before pulling up her low cut shirt to cover herself. From my angle I had a pretty decent view of absolutely everything. From the cocky tattoo on her chest to…well…the more natural parts of her anatomy.

"You waited until now to say that?" she snapped angrily. A couple of the other employees laughed at that, shaking their heads and returning to their work. "Oh shut up you," she told them.

"I'll see you later," I laughed. "Well, hopefully not too often, but you get my meaning."

With that finished the next order of business was to go to the Grenadier and get drunk as fuck. Perhaps drunker than that if I could manage.

The strip club sitting beside the Grenadier seemed as tempting as always, but I declined the cheap entertainment in favor of other cheap entertainment. One that was more socially acceptable in this modern times. As I entered the military bar the sound of rowdy soldiers letting loose hit me right in the face. Well, ears, but you get my point.

"Frank? Frank!"

I turned towards the point of origin of the voice. "Hey Murphy," I greeted. "How you been?"

"Me? What about you, it's been months since we heard anything from you!"

"Long deployment," I replied.

Murphy immediately went serious. A long deployment meant that you had been caught up in something that didn't allow you to return home on time. The only thing that could prevent a UNSC frigate from making its way back home was a Covenant invasion. Two Covenant invasions to be precise.

"How was it?"

"Not too bad," I replied truthfully. "I was only genuinely scared for my life at one point."

Murphy looked at me curiously before he burst out laughing. He was more drunk than not. "Good to hear it mate, good to hear it." He grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the bar itself. "Come on, the first one's on me."

"Hey Cap," I said as soon as I sat down. Captain Montgomery smiled at me and served me a sizeable portion of whiskey in a glass. I smelled the liquor and shrugged before taking a small sip. "Been a while."

"Yes, what have you been up to?"

"Kickin alien ass," I said dismissively, spinning the glass of alcohol in my hand, staring at it intently. "You know, the usual."

"Actually, I don't," Montgomery replied. "Mostly counter-insurgency here."

I chuckled as I took a healthy swig from the whiskey, almost draining the glass. "Come on Cap, you know I can't talk about it."

He spread his arms and shrugged. "Fine, fine. In that case, why don't you tell me where the rest of your team is?"

"Pavel is with his wife, his daughter was born just hours ago. Camilla might be joining us soon, had to change into warmer clothing. The rest of the guys are probably out partying in New Alexandria. It'll probably be a week before they get tired of it and come here."

"Well, you know what they say about nightlife in New Alexandria."

I didn't actually, but I chuckled out of respect. "Another of the same Cap, I feel like getting shitfaced today."

"Deal, in that case, hand over your sidearm."

I sighed and reached into a small holster on my back, pulling out my M6. I handed the large handgun to the bartender and he promptly checked for the safety. He ejected the magazine and the cartridge in the chamber before placing the gun on the shelf behind the bar, next to a magnum of Champagne. Magnum next to magnum, it was drunken poetry at its best.

"So Frank," Murphy slurred. "It's been a while since I got some action, care to be my wingman?"

I shook my head. "Sorry man, I don't feel like meaningless sex right now."

Murphy stared at me before chuckling lightly. "My, my, you've fallen in love!" He was pretty perceptive for a drunken Irishman.

"That's a bit dramatic," I started.

"Listen up!" he yelled, drunken inhibitions at its finest. "Francisco here has finally been snagged by some lucky broad!"

A couple of the regulars that I knew looked over at me and laughed before raising their drinks at me in mock salute.

"Whatever will the rest of us do?" Lys, the waitress, said in a mocking tone.

That got the laughter going on.

I just shook my head and downed my second glass of whiskey as soon as Captain Montgomery brought it to me. The rowdy atmosphere promptly subsided as people started talking amongst themselves once more. I was well known and relatively well liked by the regulars of this bar, mostly I talked with my squad and occasionally joined in with Murphy, Driscoll, and Shaw. Those three had an incredible capacity for holding their liquor.

"Shitfaced you said?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw Lys. She was wearing the waitress outfit for the Grenadier, a skimpy excuse for a military uniform. Well, it was more like short shorts and a very form-fitting tanktop with camouflage pattern on them. I noted how they even bothered to make the pattern classic Marines as opposed to Army camouflaged. Swabbies don't even bother with camo, no one can see you through Titanium-A plating,

"Hey Lys," I greeted. "You look good."

"Coming from you, that's a compliment," she deadpanned.

"When somebody says that you look good it is generally intended as one."

"Still an asshole, I see," she muttered.

"Still exceeding your bounds as a waitress, I see," I shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There are some guys over there that need a refill," I informed her. "Be quick about it."

She sighed in annoyance and rolled her eyes before leaving. I still hadn't completely forgotten her for making me have the worst hangover of my entire life. And she had done it maliciously, that's the worst part.

"Hey Frank," Cam's voice suddenly said, barging in from behind. It didn't take a lot of coaxing to get the marine sitting next to me to give here her chair.

"That was mean," I told her. "Plan on rewarding him for it later?"

Camilla turned around and examined the man in question. She looked him up and down before turning back. "He does look like a fine specimen."

The marine turned around and grinned before turning back and shaking his head at the ego boost. That was the first time I felt genuinely happy for her and not like a jealous rage was ready to burst out of my chest. I just felt a teeny bit jealous, but it was the kind of jealousy that you'd experience when you'd see an asshole take your little sister away for prom.

And I didn't really mind.

So I was sitting there, downing drink after drink, occasionally having a chat with Montgomery while staring at the screens on the back of the bar. They were playing a gravball game, it was one of those not-for-real things where they just focused on hitting the shit out of each other rather than trying to score. It was incredibly fun to watch. Eventually people started leaving, it was starting to feel a little bit emptier with each passing minute.

"Frank? Sarge!"

"Wha-what?" I asked.

"I'm leaving," Cam informed me. "You fine?"

"I'm fine," I smiled at her. "Thanks for the concern." I turned to look to the man holding her around the waist. Objectively speaking he was a fine specimen, not as incredible as myself, but good enough for Camilla. Well, maybe that's going a bit far. "Treat her nice," I said with a friendly tone. The threat wasn't voiced, but it was evident for all three of us.

"Of course I will Gunny," he replied. "Have a good one."

"You too," I said as they left the bar.

"Jeez, that girl of yours really doesn't know she's hot," Montgomery noted, leaning on the bar and cleaning an empty glass. "The poor fellow was flirting like crazy and Cam just blushed at every compliment he said."

"Conservative upbringing?" I suggested.

"Where'd you say she was from again?"

"Finland."

"Never been there," he admitted. "Born and raised here on Reach, only been to Earth once."

"I barely remember Earth," I said as I downed another glass of whisky. "Another."

"Sure sonny, I'll get you a glass of water to match that."

"Whatever you thinks' best," I shrugged.

The patrons slowly started leaving in a steady procession. Montgomery warned that it was last call by ringing a bell loudly. Funny thing, in this age he could've gotten a whole set of holo-projectors and have them installed on the bar for less than the vintage bronze bell cost the man. I guess he liked the feeling of authenticity that it gave the bar. That's probably the reason why he got all those antique weapons too.

With last call a bunch of people started leaving. Half an hour after the bell-ringing there was only four patrons left in the Grenadier. I was one of them and the other three were Murphy, Shaw, and Driscoll. All four of us were sitting at the bar, heads slightly crooked forward, one hand on the table across us, and another on our drink.

"Can you switch the channel Captain?" Shaw asked.

"To what?"

"Softcore," he suggested.

"You do realize that there's three women in here," Lys exclaimed.

"Two of them are already leaving and you're practically family," Shaw joked.

"Would you watch porn with your sister?"

"With that much hair on your legs I'd say you were my brother."

"I didn't shave yesterday!" Lys screamed angrily.

I chuckled. "I'd feel uncomfortable watching porn with you guys around here." I chuckled some more. "Maybe you can put on some cartoons."

That got the three marines laughing. Eventually we settled for reruns of some crappy sitcom about nothing in particular. It was just people talking about stupid things. It was hilarious. We stood there just watching the thing for ten minutes in silence before I ordered another drink.

"I already rang last call," Montgomery told me.

Driscoll burst out laughing. "Really Captain?"

Montgomery grinned and pulled out a bottle of cheap whiskey, if he was going to give us free alcohol he wasn't going to make it good alcohol.

"Cheers," Murphy said, raising his glass. "You plan on joining us Lys?"

"I don't drink on the job," she said.

"Well, you're off the clock now sweetie," Montgomery said with a smile. He reached for another glass and poured her a decent portion. "Here, have some fun."

Lys smiled at her feet and took the whiskey. "Thanks Gavin."

"Now, what should we toast for?" Shaw asked.

"Not for the dead," Murphy said immediately. "For something more happy."

"For them!" Shaw proposed.

"Them as in women?" Lys asked. "Or them as in romantic interests in general?"

"When you put it like that it sounds bad," Shaw mumbled. "Not as poetic."

"For a good night," Driscoll suggested.

"Now there Corporal, you might've had a good night but Frankie here certainly didn't. Ain't that right?"

I smiled and nodded. "Don't worry about me."

"For a good future," Lys suggested.

"I like it," I agreed. "Simple, classic, and honest. To a good future."

"To a good future," everyone said in unison. After everyone downed their shots they slammed the glasses on the table and winced at the horrible taste of the cheap whiskey.

Side note: don't think for a minute that the conversation leading up to that toast was as intelligible as reading through my flawless grammar and prose.

"To a good future, eh Francisco?" Schitzo suggested. He moved over to Scarecrow and grabbed his jaw, squeezing it so that it would seem like he was talking. "Some of us don't have a future."

"Another drink," I prompted Montgomery. "A double."

The captain seemed to understand. He nodded at me and reached for another large glass before pouring quite a little bit of alcohol into it. He handed it to me and patted me on the shoulder before I downed it. I felt dizzy for a moment before I caught myself. Next thing I know I'm being carried onto a cab by Shaw and Lys. They dump me inside and tell it to take me to my hotel. I don't even know how I managed to make it into my room, but once I was there I took off my shoes and let myself fall on the plushy heaven that was the bed.

The banging hadn't stopped after fifteen minutes. My head was starting to feel like it was going to burst. It had been like that ever since it started. Three loud bangs and a pause of three seconds. Rinse and repeat. Eventually I was beyond going back to sleep, my eyes were wide open and I was staring at the wall. I shuffled sideways to get a good look at the clock. It was five thirty in the morning, there was absolutely no reason why the hotel personnel would be trying to open the door. I hadn't ordered room service and I was certain that not even drunk me would be stupid enough to tell the front desk to wake me up this early. I sniffed the air around me, it smelled of alcohol but it didn't smell bad so they couldn't think that there was a corpse in there.

There wasn't a corpse in here so I was pretty sure that they couldn't think that.

Count to five.

One…two…three…four…five…

I groaned loudly as I pushed myself sideways and sat up on the bed. I shuffled my feet and wiggled my toes. My feet felt uncomfortable for having slept on with socks that I had worn all day. My shirt was all twisted sideways and my jeans had ridden up to my crotch. I felt very uncomfortable. I reached around my night table and knocked around the clock until it displayed the day, time, and weather on the space in front of it. It was the day that it should've been and the weather was slightly cold for June, but all in all everything seemed fine. I had only been asleep for a grand total of two and a half hours. Cam would be stupid enough to come and see if I was fine this early, but she had gone home with some hot piece of ass, as she put it, and she wasn't nearly socially awkward enough to leave the guy's place so early in the morning. Not when she could stay for seconds.

Maybe he was really bad.

No, most definitely not Camilla. Pavel was out of the picture too, he was probably staring at his sleeping wife lovingly while holding his newborn in his hands, maybe cradling the cute little monster. Maybe he was banging outside to introduce me to little Lavanya. No, I would've heard a baby crying.

That left another option, I had come to the hotel really drunk a few hours ago, I might've done something stupid and some employee might've gotten all pissed. This is what happens when you go to human-run cheap hotels. I keep saying that the only hotels that should be run and crewed by humans should be the old-fashioned fancy ones. When you've got low-level joints like this you're not going to get decent people working at them. Still, it was a long shot, even if an employee had rounded up all of his/her friends they still would've arrived before two hours to beat me up.

I was out of options, the only way to make this noise go away was to open the goddamned door.

I stood up and opened my arms to steady myself. I was still drunk but also hung-over, I was at that precise point when your body hasn't finished processing the alcohol inside it but has processed enough to give you a headache. You've all been there at least once. It feels like shit.

"What do you want?" I slurred as I opened up.

I was greeted by a scowling man with an EPD jacket. He had a bunch of plastic bags in one hand and a stick with a pointy end in another. He offered them both to me. "Morning Gunny, community service."

"Can I at least shower?"

"There's a car waiting for you downstairs, you've got fifteen minutes. I'll leave this here. The cab'll take you to your destination, you have to fill up all of these before you're allowed to leave."

"Great. Are you gonna wait for me?"

"Fuck no, if I go back home I might still catch a couple of hours of sleep."

"Ha-ha, fucking funny."

"Don't get wise with me," he warned. "Now hurry up."

The man actually slammed my door in my face. I stood there for a second, thinking about the implications of having someone disrespect me in my own house. Or hotel room. Eventually I came to the conclusion that a shower would help with both the sobering up and the hangover, leaving me a better man.

I left my room in a new pair of jeans, fresh underwear, a clean shirt, and recently-washed socks. It felt good. On the way down I downed two cups of coffee, scalding my tongue in the process. The car was waiting for me, just as promised. I climbed inside it and placed myself across the seats, trying to grab a quick powernap before I arrived at my destination.

No such luck, I arrived at a highway with a large field on one side. The cab dropped me off just like that and vanished. I sighed and sat down on the edge of the road. I checked the pack of plastic bags and saw that there was a note attached. I yanked it open and read it to myself.

"Fill bags…call this number…done…" I muttered. "Great."

"Well, better get this started," Scarecrow suggested playfully.

"Tell me about it," I replied.

And with that I set myself to picking up trash with a stick and putting it inside a plastic bag.

Thanks to Sniper Fodder for proof-reading this chapter. Quote was taken from the 2001 horror/thriller film Joy Ride.

Well, it has been exactly one year since I first published this story. I wish that I had something better to commemorate this, but this is all I've got. It's a good chapter, light-hearted and funny if you ask me. I'd just like to thank everybody who has been reading this since the beginning and everybody else too. This is where I'm supposed to say that you fuel my imagination and are the primary reason that I keep writing, but I would feel a little bit weird saying it.

Well, as for the chapter itself, writing the chase and prison scenes was pretty fun, I kept imagining the situation and kind of pictured it as a sit-com kind of situation. You know what I'm talking about, most sit-coms have had a special episode. Anyone else would've gotten a more serious punishment after a car chase (at least here in Mexico), but the guys here managed to pull a Karma Houdini. After all, I could' just throw them in jail, that would be rude.

One year...wow.

Stay strong.

-casquis