Path of the Vampire forum

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Two weeks ago
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Doc:

Abell Worthington: Belle curled up on her couch, laptop pulled upon her and the phone just off to the side. She had been talking to Doc here and there about buying one of her businesses, nothing had been said much about it but she was about to check again. She needed to get things moving and soon. Picking up her phone she speed dialed Doc and waited. Little thing she would never tell anyone but she loved when they talked, he understood her and she liked that...wasn't such a battle to communicate with him.

Doc: His phone rang a few times before he finally picked it up. To be honest he was more than a little surprised when he saw who was calling him. He smiled a bit as he answered, "Bella.. what an unexpected surprise.. I take it you have thought some more about the business..?" He leaned back in his seat, getting comfortable, looking forward to the negotiation they were about to embark on.

Abell Worthington: It made her smile wide, she loved when she took people off guard a little, she was an element of surprise. "Yes I've definitely thought about it, there's no way i can take care of six different businesses...not now anyway," she explained and opened her laptop, pulling up details of the other two places she would have for sale. "Which did you say you were interested in again?"

Doc: "I can understand that, I am looking for location more than the actual business.. where are they located?" This was the opening volley, the dance of negotiation was beginning, "Anything in the Redwood district would be ideal.. but it's not a deal breaker if it isn't.. provided the price is right."

Abelle Worthington: "They are both in the Riverwood Market, both very close to each other. Neither are decorated inside to my knowledge" she truly couldn't remember the last time she checked on her sister's properties. "I'll give you a good deal on them for sure..."

Doc: "Riverwood.. " He nodded, it wasn't ideal, but then again, for his purpose it would suffice, "That could be doable, provided the price is right.. what were you thinking of pricewise?"

Abelle Worthington: "Honestly Doc, I've never sold a business before so not sure what the going price is," she stopped and thought for a moment, she knew if she were to sell any of her babies she would ask for a lot, but these places weren't even up and running yet. "Throw me a price and I'll go from there,' she whined in the phone frustrated,

Doc: Doc grinned, no way was he going to make the opening bid. "I wish I could but Bella,.. I am familiar with Redwood.. not Riverwood...it would be irresponsible for me to throw out random numbers.. What numbers were you thinking.. ? And we go from there..?"

Abelle Worthington: This part of business was where she still had to learn. Classes on the evenings weren't helping enough, she needed to apprentice or something it seemed. "Ok so....dont laugh if i go to high," she rolled her eyes and smirked on her end. "250k?" is that out of range or am I crazy?"

Doc: Doc mused over the number she tossed out. "That is high for what I have in mind.. and not in the location I wanted... I was think more along the lines of 125k.. " He said evenly, "If I remember correctly the property originally sold for 50K? And property values have gone down..."

Abell Worthington: Unfortunately she hadn't been the one that bought it, and for the life of her couldn't remember what she had paid for hers in particular. She was just happy to get rid of it. "Yes I'm sure they have," she paused and thought. " 150k? How's that?"

Doc: Doc nodded, "Alright.. deal. 150K." He made a note in his calendar, "Do you think we could make it formal.. in.. say.." he flips a page, "two weeks time?'"

Abell Worthington: Belle beamed and made her own little notes in her laptop files. "Two weeks is fine. That'll give me plenty of time to get things all situated..." she hummed to herself as she typed up a few things. "You can meet me at the Newspaper office, more or less making that my main office for everything these days,"

Doc: "Excellent... two weeks at the newspaper.. I will see you then." He made some notes. He closed his calendar, and paused, "Bella, have you heard any of the rumors going round?"

Abell Worthington: Belle laughed when he said rumors. The city was full of rumors always, she wondered what outrageous thing was now. "No Doc," she laughed softly. "What rumors?"

Doc: "About an uprising.. humans are planning an assault on us. I have a bad feeling. The rumors seem to be authentic."

Abell Worthington: Belle stopped for a second, she wasn't sure to laugh and curse. "An uprising?! We're freakin vamps and other ghouly things, what chance do they have against us?" she let out a laugh and sighed. "I hope they know they can't use holy water and stakes?" she cackled now as she shut the laptop and made her way out on the patio.

Doc: "I don't know what they plan on using, but they are coming during the day.. while we're in torpor.. so they aren't stupid." He heard the amusement in her voice, "Don't underestimate them Bella..”

Abell Worthington: She heard his tone, and honestly she had never really heard him that serious. "Well i'm sure you and i are not the only ones to know this...i'm assuming it's public knowledge," she looked down off her patio to the few humans that walked on by. "Not all of us live in torpor, myself for a fact," she realized how that sounded., The odds actually were kind of evened out due to this issue."How many vamps have daywalker? I'm sure we'll bring them down," she hoped whatever he said next gave her some assurance.

Doc: Doc nodded, "Be safe..and be aware of your surroundings. I will see you in two weeks." He paused, "Call me if you need me.."

Abell Worthington: "I will...you too," she scrunched up her face and shook her head. Sounds of concern sounded serious enough. She'd have to do some investigating as well.

Doc: Doc nodded to himself as he disconnected. He hoped the rumors were wrong.. but he doubted it.

Belle’s newest, hottest rental car pulled into her saved spot along the side of HRN. She had fought fair and square for that space. A smirk spread over her face as she remember the incident like it was yesterday. Sure she had to threaten to kill the woman, who dared to park there every single morning, regardless of Belle asking her nicely to move down, since the shop she worked at was down the road...regardless...Belle won. It was a nice little reminder every time she stepped out of the car and seen the coveted spot. It always made her day. Today she really needed the inspiration, it had been a long night before and she had the business meeting with Doc today. She should at least be somewhat sensible, but on the other hand Doc knew exactly just how weird and slightly “off” she could be.

There was no need for her to pull that hoodie, she kept in the back of the car, over her head this morning and make a dash for the front door. The sky was heavy and it looked like it might even rain later, which was fine because it gave her better opportunity to get actual business like work done. It was hard running things from the shadows and letting humans do all the important stuff. It was her business and she was dedicated, day or night. She almost broke a smile as she came through the front doors, both the janitor and the front desk girl, blinked in confusion. The smile had already diminished into her resting ***** face, by the time she got to her office door. There wasn't much that made her happy, but money was one.

Belle plopped down in her office chair and threw her feet up on her desk. It wouldnt be long until she and Doc met, and so for now she took care of a few more minor things for the office.

Deagan was shaking as he pulled his car into the lot behind the Harper Rock News offices. He parked the Mustang and ran a hand over his sweating face, trying to calm his nerves. Minutes earlier, he had almost plowed his vehicle directly into an oncoming pick up truck, only managing to veer out of the way at the last moment. But the near miss with death was not the only reason that he was so shaken. It was Emily. She was back.

It had been weeks since she had last spoken to him. His wife. His dead wife to be more precise. Her presence had been haunting him ever since that fateful day, months ago, when she had appeared to him in, of all places, the religion section of a mall bookstore. Deagan was not a religious man; he had been there hoping to find books on the occult. He believed that there had been some sort of occult connection to his wife's murder. He had literally been standing there looking at a book on vampires on the anniversary of her death. It probably hadn't been the best move from a cosmic karma point of view.

She had appeared to him, right then and there, had even spoken to him. For the next several months, as Deagan continued to either see her or hear her voice speaking to him, he had struggled with the very real possibility that he might actually be going insane. But her appearance had triggered other events, experiences which had proven to Deagan that the supernatural was very real, and very active, in Harper Rock. Zombies, vampires, blood thieves. Deagan thought he had seen it all. And then, a week ago, he had realized with a start that it had been some time since Emily's ghostly presence had made itself known to him. All of that, however, had ended today. Of course, Deagan realized with a start. It makes perfect sense! Today was November 15th. Their wedding anniversary.

Deagan had been driving that morning from his home to the Harper Rock News offices in Redwood. He was minutes from his destination when it happened. Emily had only once before screamed at him the way that she did at that moment, but on the previous occasion it had nearly driven Deagan mad. Now it nearly drove him into oncoming traffic.

They're coming! Deagan, they're coming!

"Goddammit!" Deagan swore, as he jerked the wheel involuntarily and then fought to gain control, correcting the Mustang just inches away from becoming the hood ornament of a Ford F-150. Now that he was parked and in relative safety, he had time to think about Emily's words. What had she meant by "They're coming?" Like all of her messages to him, it was maddeningly vague. But experience had taught him that everything she said had a meaning, no matter how cryptic it might appear on the surface. Perhaps this was the reason why, try as he might, he couldn't seem to calm himself as he sat there in the early morning hours, the HRN lot still half empty. Who's coming? Deagan though, nervously.

Then he noticed the car parked in Abelle Broussard's spot. God help whoever that is. She's going string them up by their toes if she finds out. The thought caused a bitter laugh to escape from his throat, like the hoarse bark of a dog. Despite her (severe) eccentricities, Deagan had taken a liking to his employer. Even if the job itself was just an opportunity to further research Emily's murder, it had given him a renewed sense of purpose. The overwhelming depression from which he been suffering ever since Emily's death had even abated somewhat. Knowing he had to go to work each day, rain or shine, was a necessary cure to his own inclinations to stay in bed with the curtains drawn and sheet pulled over his head. He used that purpose as motivation now, moving himself from the driver seat of the Mustang and out into the open air. Taking a deep breath. he walked up the steps and through the door marked Employees Only.

As Deagan passed by the bullpen, Tom Wilcox hollered at him. This wasn't surprising. No matter how early Deagan arrived or late he stayed, Tom always to seemed to be there. Deagan would have sworn the older reporter kept a bunk somewhere in the HRN office building. "You'll never guess who's here," Tom said with a grin, and then, seeing the still stricken pallor of Deagan's features, decided his editor was in no mood for guessing games. "Uh, Belle's here. The boss lady decided to come to work today." Deagan registered the words and halted his forward motion. Since the office he used was effectively Belle's, that rendered him effectively "homeless." Abelle Broussard rarely visited the paper that she owned, at least not without giving Deagan some kind of notice that she was coming. With a sigh, he turned and trudged into the bullpen with the rest of the reporting staff. Pulling out his laptop he said "Mind if I crash with you for a while today Tom." The portly reporter laughed jovially, his voice gravelly from too many years of smoking. "Sure compadre. What's a matter? Don't want to shoot the **** with the lady who writes your checks?"

"Just not in the mood to talk to anyone right now," Deagan said as he opened up his computer, his somber face lit up by the bluish glow of the screen. Tom took the hint, and wandered off to "shoot the ****" with some other staffers, leaving Deagan to the peace he desired. At least temporarily. Deagan couldn't have realized what a temporary peace it was, nor that it would not be long now before it all came crashing down around him.

Doc looked at his watch, he was due to meet Bella at the newspaper in a little than fifteen minutes. He shed his lab coat, hung it up and collected his suit jacket as he headed to his office. He shut the office door and locked it behind him. It was daylight outside, he would not be strolling to her office during this part of the day. He had the power to tolerate daylight in short spurts, but he didn’t like getting caught outside, period. The odds were against the minute you stepped out into the light.

However, Doc also had the power to teleport; and due to his time actually working at Harper Rock News, he was privy to all the hidden little nooks and crannys that the place had to offer, so he never had to step foot outside. He could teleport right inside the place, in relative safety. The presses were were done until later tonight, to the press floor would be pretty empty as would the various parts and storage rooms. The only employees that would be about would be the reporters and business people who liked to stay in their offices.

A few scant seconds later, Doc coalesced in one of the unused dark rooms that were no longer used, since the advent of digital photos. Stepping ouf the dark room, he adjusted his tie, cuffs and flicked some dust motes from his shoulder while he made his way toward Bella’s office, completely bypassing the lobby and reception area.

Doc tapped twice on her office door, and after a two-count, he let himself in. Bella was lounging in her office chair, feet propped on her desk, her face reflecting sourness, it caused him to smirk. “I take it, by the look on your face,.. you already know you fucked up..and that you’re on the list..”

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November 15, 2015
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It was early morning, the sun was almost fully up. Derek looked at his watch, and then looked at him team, “It is almost go time guys. I want to go over the plan one last time. We are rolling out in twenty-two minutes. I’ll will be driving. At 8:10 am, I will drop Alice off on the corner by the shops.” Derek looked at Alice.

Alice nodded, “Right, I will take a position on the corner shop roof northeast of the newspaper. There is a ladder already in place, I checked it again on the way in. Once on the roof, I will will scope the area out and send the all clear for you guys for you to move in. Then I will wait until I get a signal to start laying down covering fire for your exits.”

Derek nodded, “Good. John, I will drop you off at Night Mode and then George, Sheila, and I will park be in the van waiting for the all clear.”

John picked up his part. “Once I am dropped off, I head to the car that has been parked at Night Mode, and collect the explosives out of the trunk, I will head to corner of the Newspaper and wait for the all Clear. Once I get the all clear from Alice, I will drop a duffel of explosives on the back loading ramp for Sheila, then I will go in the front entrance and cause a distraction.”

“The rest of us..” Derek seamlessly picked up the story, “will be parked in the back lot of Lancaster’s, once we get the all clear,.. “ He looked at Sheila.

Sheila dimpled and eagerly added her bit, “We exit the van, I collect the duffel that John drops off, I start arming the explosives, I give one explosive to Derek and Jorge, then setting some of them along the perimeter of loading dock exits. Once five of them are set, that should leave me three, to use once Derek and Jorge clear the doorway for me. Once inside I will deploy the cell scramble which will disable all cell reception in a two block area, and I hang back with Derek, while Jorge cuts down anyone who tries to stop us on our way to ash the vamp.”

Jorge nods while spinning his katana, “I don’t expect much of a resistance, but if someone -does- tries to be a hero, this baby can sever a limb with no problem. Once one body hits the ground, I expect everyone else to scatter pretty quick. If I run into a locked door, I place my explosive, fall back and give Sheila the heads up to detonate. Once it blows, I rush in first, and look for our target.” He pulls out an older photo of Abelle Broussard and holds it up. “When I find her, head comes off. Once the head is off.. I give the word to evac asap.”
“Once I hear ‘evac asap’, I will watch for John coming out the front door, and start laying down suppressing fire to keep everyone else from rushing the front of the building. Making everyone else head to the loading docks.” Alice added.

“As we exit, I will detonate the bombs at the loading dock.” Sheila interjected.

Derek picked up the story, “Jorge, Sheila and I will exit and scatter. I will use my explosive to blow up the van. and head to an alternate vehicle to head south.”

“I will take the car from Night Mode, pick up Alice and we’re in the wind.” John added.

Jorge held up keys, “My ride is parked nearby and I am gone.”

Everyone looked at Sheila, “I am taking my remaining explosives and planting them and detonating them at the bank, to cause misdirection and cover your exits. Then I will head to Swansdale transit station, change my appearance and head out via the train.”

Derek looked at his watch again, “Ok. Make sure your comms are on. No one be a hero, we all have families to go home to.

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Precisely at 8:10am, a white plumbers van pulled to a corner in the Newborough district and let out a female in her mid twenties before casually pulling off and driving around the block.

Belle wiggled her toes impatiently, her attention was split between email reading and the sound of people coming in and out of the front doors. She could hear things so much clearer than the humans that came and left daily. There was a particular squeek in the door hinge, that she had been hearing for well over an hour now; it was making her flinch each and every time. Glancing down at her watch, she peeked out the window checking to see if he had arrived yet. Nothing but stressed employees with miserable faces, dragging *** to work like everyday. And then there was Deagan. Her star employee.

Truly Belle had no idea what Deagan did or didn't know about her. He never brought it up and she never offered any information. The supernatural was always in question in the city, she was sure at some point he might have suspected. Maybe it was that time she came to the office with that big blood stain on her pants or maybe it was when how they met with each other, she showed no sign of breathing motion, plus the cold hands should have been a dead giveaway. As much as she tried to humanize herself, there would forever be that lack of life. Something no amount of makeup or curses or spells could ever give back.

Tilting her head toward the door, she listened to Deagan and Tom talk. Such a big deal she was around the office...the boss lady. It made her roll her eyes, especially when her “star” employee seemed less than thrilled to spend time with her. Seemed he was having a rough day, she would give him that. Who didn't? She was having a rough time as well. Patience wasn't a strong quality, but she tried to exercise it as much as possible. Checking her watch again, it was as though her prayer was answered.

Doc. An important figure he was becoming in her more or less daily life. They didn't always talk, but when they did she liked to think he was giving her good advice. One psycho to another. She was sure that was pretty dangerous, but she never claimed to be safe. It was nice he understood her. However, sometime she took the advice a bit too far. Like that incident with the cop’s. He had told her to not give a **** about most people or situations, and perhaps she applied it a little too liberally to the incident at the bank. Three officers down, all because of that one captain save it all...just couldn't let it go about the shoot out in the slums. She should have known it would come back to bite her in the butt or in this case...shoot her in knee and nearly blast off her hand.

Two knocks. She knew it was him. Wincing she turned in her chair and lowered her legs to the floor. The knee felt worse than the hand, she decided at the point when she tried to flex it. His grin was so cocky, that it made her narrow her eyes in his direction. Such a jerk.

“It’s always my fault hm?” tossing her hair over her shoulder she stuck out her tongue and laughed. “Felt amazing at least,” she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering how the adrenaline pumped through her blood with each shot she took. “The list I’m not fond of but eventually I’ll be off,” she rolled her blue’s and pulled the laptop toward herself, motioning for Doc to sit.

“Its not like I do it all the time,” she was justifying now, just like an addict in denial. She had it bad, she knew this. It was one of few things that made her smile and so she did. Belle peeked out her curtain and blinds once more. She wasn't paranoid, but with recent activity she couldn't be safe enough. Nothing but a girl on the corner caught her eye, and that was barely worth a second glance.

“Ok well…” putting on her professional face, though laced with pain, she nodded at Doc. It was time to do business, all the other ******** would wait until later. “Time to sell some property,”

Doc’s comments had been partially truthful and partially teasing.. until he saw the state she was in. “Damn girl..you look like you had a fight with a meat grinder.. and lost. Business can wait.. we have time. It’s Sunday, it’s not like banks are even going to be open. We can take a few minutes and let me look you over.” He closed the office door, but not before making sure no one was in the corridor. “Have any of your employees seen you? They are going to think it odd, missing a hand one week and it’s back the next.” He had lowered his voice as he laid down his briefcase and crossed over to look at her hand in closer detail.

Holding out his hand, he waited for her extend the injured appendage, so he could carefully unwrapped it. Whether she seemed reluctant and only did it because she didn’t want to argue with him, is unknown. What he did see once he wrapped it, was that it had been cleaned properly and was healing nicely. Opening the briefcase, he took out the ointment he carried with him just for these such occasions. “This is an antibacterial ointment. It is not going to keep it from getting infected since we do not get infected per se, but it does tend to keep the itching at bay.” Doc applied a liberal amount of the ointment on the wound and rewrapped her appendage. “My suggestion.. wear a sling. It hides the fact you don’t have a hand.” Creating a rudimentary sling with a handkerchief, he placed it around her neck before taking the seat she had indicated earlier.

Reaching into the briefcase, Doc withdrew a cashier’s check, and slide it across the desk. “I believe this is the amount we agreed upon.”

God, what a tragedy, Deagan thought to himself as he reviewed more info on the AP wire from Paris. As the newsfeed scrolled in front of him, he couldn't help but feel the pain of each loss, just as he had lost his own wife to a senseless murder. It was good for him to get out of his own head and see that people all over the world could understand the heartache that he himself suffered from. After he had solved Emily's murder, he would devote himself to doing more to help other victims of such tragedies deal with similar situations. But only after. Right now there was still so much to do.

The Harper Rock News staff had not come up with their own article on the violence in Paris, but had simply reprinted information from Associated Press and Reuters. Some of the Harper Rock News reporters had tried to suggest tie-in stories. Barry Robinson had pushed for the idea of going through the phone book and calling anyone with French sounding names in order to get reactions to the violence, perhaps even find someone with family in Paris if they got "lucky." Deagan had found the whole thing utterly morbid, and had squashed the idea, much to Barry's chagrin. Working at a newspaper in a town where half the time the news literally wasn't fit to print, the least Deagan could do, if he couldn't bring some level of journalistic integrity, was to try and establish a line in the sand when it came to human decency. If they weren't even going to report on the frequent vampire attacks affecting their own citizens, they sure as hell weren't going to go mine those same citizens for emotions just to build a tenuous thread to a tragedy that had taken place an ocean away.

The phone in Tom Wilcox's cubicle started ringing, startling Deagan out of his reverie. Tom poked his head over the cubicle wall. "It's for you. Zeke on line 1. They transferred him from the front." Deagan picked up the phone receiver, curious what Constable Ezekiel Mackey could want at eight am in the morning. "Hello?"

"Deagan, glad I caught you mon!" Though Zeke had been a police officer in Toronto for years, he had never quite lost the accent that came with his Jamaican heritage. "Listen, something is going down today. I don't know what, but you need to clear out of there. Ring the fire alarm or something, but get everyone out!"

"Zeke, slow down. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, everyone on the force knows there's something wrong with this city. But I'm a newcomer, so they never let me in on the big secret. But I been hearing rumors that some bad **** was going down today. I showed up to work this morning, and half the damn force is out. Called in sick. And then I found this," Degan heard the slight rustling of paper from the other end of the line. "It's a sheet of paper, Deagan. It was getting passed around the precinct. It's a list of places for cops to avoid today. Hotels, a toy shop, the 8th Dimension Mall. And the Harper Rock News." The silence sat there ominously for a beat.

"Look Zeke, enough with the conspiracy ********. I don't know what you're on about, but if we're in danger, then get the police over here. Protect and serve and all that." Even as he said it though, Deagan knew what the response would be. He knew Harper Rock well enough for that. Zeke was a good guy, maybe one of the only good guys left on the Harper Rock police force. But he was one man. And this city was a veritable force of nature, breaking down anything and anyone who tried to resist its irresistible pull towards damnation.

"Deagan, mon, I'm sorry. I got a wife and kids, you know? The cops aren't going to help you today. Just pull the damn fire alarm. Do whatever you have to. Get everyone out of there. They're coming for her. No sense you dying too. Good luck." And then a click, and nothing.

They're coming for her? Who- And then, in split second, it all fell into place, in that mysterious way which his reporter's mind had put together so many puzzle pieces in the last couple months. In that instant, Deagan McNamara knew what was about to happen. And he understood exactly why. Dear god, of course, he thought. She's a vampire.

Deagan jumped up from his seat and looked about the bullpen frantically, scanning the assembled crew of twenty or so staffers for Tom Wilcox's round, bearded face. Not seeing the man, Deagan headed into the hallway. He spotted Tom, on his way back from the break room with a can of Coke in hand. Deagan ran up to the man and grabbed him by the shoulders. Tom was so startled he almost dropped his soft drink. "Jesus, Deagan! What the hell?"

"Tom. Listen to me. I don't have time to explain. Just trust me on this. I need you to pull the fire alarm. Right now. You got it?" Deagan could see a smile forming on Tom's lips as the older man started to compose what would undoubtedly have been a good natured but skeptical response. But there must have been something in Deagan's expression that rang true, for an instant later the smile was gone. Tom nodded seriously.

"Ok man. I got it. But afterwards you better explain what the **** is going on." For a moment, Deagan couldn't help but smile in appreciation at Tom's unquestioning loyalty. "I will. I promise," was all he said, and then Deagan left the old reporter standing there as he ran, probably faster than a man his age should have, towards the front of the building, in the direction of Abelle Broussard's office. He had to warn Belle right away. That they were coming. They were coming for her.

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Meanwhile outside
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John exited the van and headed over to Night Mode intending to get the duffle bag full of bombs out of the trunk of the car he had parked there the night before. But as he closed in on his car. “What the hell?!” He stared in horror at his tireless and wheelless vehicle. There was no way he was going to use that as a get-away vehicle. As he got closer, he saw the driver side window was gone, broken glass littered the ground around his car. Peering into the car, he saw the radio was gone, and the dashboard have been shredded with box cutter. “Ah man.. they trashed my car!” He pulled out his phone and almost called the police, before he stopped himself. ‘‘Crap!” He had a job to do, he could afford to be distracted.

Rushing to the trunk, John grabbed the duffle bag and hustled back to the rest of the group, instead dropping the bag like her was supposed to. Derek looked at him in anger, “What the hell, John.. you’re not following the plan!”

Sheila grinned in a manner that said, ‘told ya, he would **** up’, “What's the matter John? got cold feet..? You need to leave, not feeling good?” She snickered and muttered, ‘looser..’

“Shut it Sheila! The plan is fucked.. My car was trashed.” John viciously flung the duffel bag at her.

“Both of you.. chill! Let me think..” Derek nodded to himself as he thought through the plan and if there needed to be any changes on the fly. “Ok.. Ok.. here’s what we are gonna do.. John, you follow you part like you’re supposed to.. you will just have to find another way out.. that’s all. Now lets…”

John cut him off. “No way man.. I was supposed to pick up Alice.. She’s going to be carrying a rifle.. she will stand out like a beacon man.. She will get caught and we will all fry man.. We need to call this off now.. come back and do it another day!”

Jorge gave John a flat look. “Look amigo.. I will get Alice. It’s all good man. You go do your distraction thing.. then run along home. You leave the hard stuff to us..”

While the men were arguing, Sheila had caught the duffel bag, and started setting the the bombs up. She then moved to the back door of newspaper, and keyed her comm. “oh Boys… it’s 'go' time.. “ She grinned and stepped inside with the rest of the bombs.