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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 2854953" data-attributes="member: 63"><p><em>November 1, 2005</em></p><p><em>7:45 am</em></p><p></p><p>In the swamp outside of Gaian New Orleans, Robert Black and the ghost of Terry Abrams take their best guess of the direction to the French Quarter, where it will hopefully be safer than the marshland. They manage to avoid getting too close to the strange white alligators or the seemingly empty hovels on stilts that stick up between cyprus trees, tinny jazz curling out of their open doors and windows.</p><p></p><p>Robert and Terry have a lot of time to talk, but they don’t say much of importance. One risked his life to give the other a chance to not die in vain. After that, neither feels like talking would mean much.</p><p></p><p></p><p><em>The thrill is gone</em></p><p><em>The thrill is gone away</em></p><p><em>The thrill is gone baby</em></p><p><em>The thrill is gone away</em></p><p><em>You know you done me wrong baby</em></p><p><em>And you'll be sorry someday.</em></p><p style="margin-left: 20px">- B. B. King, “The Thrill is Gone”</p><p></p><p></p><p>Robert is finally feeling sunken stones under his feet, a sign that he’s coming out of the floodlands and is nearing the French Quarter. The sun is up but shadows are still long, and Robert is tired. Out of the shadows of the forest, just at the edge of the French Quarter, a cloaked figure appears ten feet in front of Robert. It is the same strange, faceless figure that confronted him and the others less than a day ago when he was last on Gaia. This time it does not hold a lantern, but a book.</p><p></p><p><em>“You have returned,”</em> it says, its voice crackling dryly, but with an undertone of deep, squirmy wetness.<em> “Good.”</em></p><p></p><p>Robert hesitates. “Terry, don’t ask it any questions, but I would like to know if you could do anything to make sure this thing doesn’t kill me.”</p><p></p><p>It floats less than a foot closer, but as the edge of its robe slides into the water near Robert, the surface begins to ripple and reflect faint images, moving like a dozen inter-spliced films. He can’t make out any single event, but Robert thinks he sees a flash of himself, holding a bloody blade, and of a beautiful Asian woman lying in snow, and of sand blowing across a cave in a storm.</p><p></p><p>“You got a book,” Robert says, ignoring the visions. “Good for you. I’m not interested in making any deals.”</p><p></p><p><em>“You do not need to give up any secrets to me,”</em> it says. <em>“I ask but a small price. Deliver this to the fallen one, the one who calls himself John.”</em></p><p></p><p>“No deals? Then it’s okay if I ask a question?”</p><p></p><p>The hooded creature, faceless, bows in an exaggerated nod, but then it holds up a hand sharply. <em>“However, I do have answers that you would find critical. You,”</em> it pauses and points at Terry, <em>“and you, longwalker.”</em></p><p></p><p>Robert glances at Terry, and the ghost looks seriously tempted, but then he shakes his head. “No, Robert. It’s too dangerous.”</p><p></p><p>“This guy might know who wanted you dead,” Robert says. “And then, by extension, who tried to kill me. So yeah, um, mysterious black-cloaked figure. Yeah, you. Is that the answer you’re offering?”</p><p></p><p>The secret-keeper bows slightly, but Robert isn’t sure if it’s nodding or shrugging.</p><p></p><p>“Okay,” Robert says, “that was pretty ambiguous. I want to know who wanted Terry dead, who’s behind all this. What do you want in exchange? You want me to deliver the book to John?”</p><p></p><p>The hooded figure shakes its head, and something of its posture makes it look amused. It slides a step closer, raises a skeletal green hand to its hood, and pulls it back.</p><p></p><p>Robert <em>knows</em>, with certainty, and he feels disappointed, like the world has lessened significantly. He also <em>knows</em> that he should not remember what he just saw under the creature’s cloak, but he does.</p><p></p><p>Tendrils, flesh the color of seaweed, veins thick with violet puss, coiled into the shape of a man, and eyes, countless, strained up between the tentacles, trying to peer out every inch of the body, eyes that are undeniably human in the midst of an alien horror.</p><p></p><p>The secret-keeper resets its hood, and Robert does his best to pretend that he doesn’t actually remember what he saw, but he feels so weak he doubts he’s convincing. The creature almost curtsies, pressing the book into Robert’s hands, and then it turns and departs slowly.</p><p></p><p>“Uh . . . yeah,” Robert says, blustering. “Yeah, thanks for nothing. I’ll cover my end of the bargain, which is, y’know, delivering this book to John, but then, uh, yeah, then we’ll be square.”</p><p></p><p>A small crowd of people appear on the street, walk past the secret-keeper, and when they pass the creature is gone.</p><p></p><p>“So,” Terry says. “I think what you did was pretty stupid, but you don’t look insane. So, what did it show you?”</p><p></p><p>“You didn’t see?” Robert asks.</p><p></p><p>Terry shakes his head. “Do you know who’s responsible?”</p><p></p><p>Robert frowns. “No. What a gyp.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, we’re at the French Quarter. It should be safe for me to get us back to Terra.”</p><p></p><p>Robert nods. Try as he might, he cannot remember what the secret-keeper told him, but he has a sense that he <em>will</em> know, soon enough.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Eventually, Nathan regroups with the Bureau, and Robert reappears near Jackson Square. By 9am they’re all gathered in the Bureau office. There’s still much to figure out. </p><p></p><p>Robert and Scarpedin explain that Terry’s still around, and that he’s still quite able to travel between the two worlds. Though Terry claims to be mentally exhausted after his second jump in just an hour, he wants to help the Bureau, and Robert and Scarpedin are willing to go along. Nathan is willing as ever, since he had a vision of a person being imperiled on the road to Savannah. John, while he feels a duty to help the Bureau, is a little bitter at Terry, since he feels like he’s being treated as an outsider now since he didn’t go running off stupidly to try to kill Adrien Lee.</p><p></p><p>That brings them to the hitch. They still didn’t manage to kill Mr. Lee. While Nathan assures them that there was a telepath there controlling the actions of father and daughter, Robert wants to see Mr. Lee for himself, this time under more controlled circumstances. No bombs, for instance. Nathan is confident there will be no bombs. He feels that he’s becoming quite proficient at sensing bombs, what with there being three in the past three days.</p><p></p><p>They call Adrien Lee and basically strong-arm him into meeting them one last time, this time in a place of their choosing, the very public and outdoors courtyard in front of the New Orleans Aquarium of the Americas, currently closed for repairs. Mr. Lee agrees unhappily, and they set a time, warning the man not to contact the police, or to bring anyone but himself and his daughter.</p><p></p><p>When that’s set, Robert hands John the book he received from the Secret-Keeper, and relates most of the story. The book confuses John. He says that he received a letter from the owner of a shop here in New Orleans, a letter that said he had a book that would explain some of the questions John had.</p><p></p><p>“What questions?” Robert asks.</p><p></p><p>John says not to worry about it. Nathan says this means it has something to do with him being an angel.</p><p></p><p>But the book John has solves nothing. The first of half the book is written in heiroglyphics, the second part in Greek, with a small section in the back – made of paper that seems to gleam like silk woven with silver – with a form of writing that no one recognizes. John feels a strange familiarity when he sees it.</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin suggests it might be ancient Sumerian, like out of <em>Snow Crash</em>.</p><p></p><p>This prompts Balthazaar to say that he thinks Scarpedin is too much of a loose cannon, and he insists that Scarpedin not come along when they go to meet Adrien Lee. Scarpedin says stupid things in response to this that do not help his case, and as entertaining as he is, even Terry, who has a soft spot for the man since he saved him, can’t justify bringing along someone so aggressive and, frankly, insane on a low-key mission like that.</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin agrees, but only if the Bureau springs Whitey from prison. This is easily done, and a few mind-wipes and computer hacks later, Whitey and Scarpedin are in Balthazaar’s van, on the way to a dockhouse Balthazaar owns on the eastern shore of the Mississippi. They suspect that the cops might be looking for the group, so Balthazaar warns Scarpedin to stays put.</p><p></p><p>After Balthazaar drives off to head to the meeting with Adrien Lee, Scarpedin smiles to his old biker buddy, and together they start looking for ways to trash Balthazaar’s place.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>At the Aquarium of the Americas, the few people who pass by the courtyard are all talking about the rumored attacks of last night and this morning. Adrien Lee and his daughter Belladonna sit in the middle of the otherwise abandoned plaza, waiting for the Bureau. He is confident being so out in the open because one of his few servants he can trust, Tom “Gris-gris” Jones, claimed to place a powerful spell upon him to keep harm from befalling him this day. He will need it, because there is still so much to do. He needs to find out who betrayed him, and how deep the betrayal goes.</p><p></p><p>He knows at least that he has his daughter’s loyalty. She will not leave him.</p><p></p><p>After the Bureau has set up a perimeter of cloaked snipers and observers, Robert, John, Nathan, and Balthazaar arrive. Balthazaar hangs back, wary of threats, while Robert sits down across from Adrien Lee like he’s an old friend. Much banter is exchanged, but no hint is given that Terry’s ghost is still around, nor does Mr. Lee seem to care. Seemingly idle threats from both parties clearly hint at a deep resentment, and in the interest in making sure they’re not going to have to kill each other on account of bad intelligence, Nathan calls for complete honesty.</p><p></p><p>Robert of course lies smoothly. He suspects Mr. Lee is doing so as well. But he cannot doubt the man’s tone when he finally, bitterly admits that he was mind controlled, and that his actions were not his own. </p><p></p><p>Robert relishes the man’s pain, enjoying seeing Adrien Lee weak, but knows that he cannot kill this man. Two days ago, he would have been willing to slit Adrien Lee’s throat anyway, but after what he has seen, Robert doubts the path he has chosen. Still, he wants answers.</p><p></p><p>Mr. Lee does not know who wanted Terry dead. He was aware that a hit had been requested, but knowing his daughter’s association with Terry, he was cautious. He had initially wanted to bring Terry to the mansion to size him up and determine if he was a threat, then to protect him if he wasn’t. Unfortunately, Mr. Lee says, he was betrayed, and his mind was controlled.</p><p></p><p>Maurice Boudreaux, Mr. Lee’s brother-in-law and business partner, has fled the country, and given the holes in security that allowed the telepath onto his manor, and the terrorists with their bombs into the mansion party, Mr. Lee has no doubt Maurice was responsible. He suggests they look for him if they want answers, but Robert declines, saying he’s got more important things to do than clean up Mr. Lee’s messes.</p><p></p><p>Belladonna says she’s sorry, and that she wishes none of this had happened. That wins her no points, especially not with Robert, who heard directly from Terry that Belladonna did not even try to stop her father from killing him.</p><p></p><p>Even if Robert accepts Mr. Lee’s story that he was mind-controlled, that still leaves his daughter as a murdering bitch.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>After using magical telekinesis ("Hey Whitey, look what I can do now.") to unlock the door to Balthazaar’s private office from the inside, and after he has stolen Balthazaar’s computer and smashed his desk trying to see if the man keeps vampire porn, Scarpedin turns his sights to the speedboat docked in the boathouse. He and Whitey get on board, toss in the computer and a few other looted items, and hotwire the thing.</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin doesn’t know how to drive a boat, but he figures the Mississippi is a big river, so he’ll probably have time to figure out how before he crashes the thing.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Negotiations begin between Robert and Mr. Lee, reparations of a sort for Terry’s death. Mr. Lee knows in which hospital the lead Canadian terrorist – the man with the mini-gun – is being treated, and he agrees to let them have the man.</p><p></p><p>“And one more thing,” Robert says. “You know, I won’t even try to lie here. I wish I could kill you, but y’know what, I can’t. But if I’m going to let you live, I want to make sure that you do at least one thing good with your life, since I’m sure you’re going to go back to being a murdering bastard as soon as we’re not around.”</p><p></p><p>“Would you like etiquette lessons?” Adrien Lee asks.</p><p></p><p>Robert laughs once. “No. But . . . I want you to build a playground. A place for children to have fun. I’ll be back in a few months, and if I find a new playground that you’re responsible for, you won’t have to die.”</p><p></p><p>Mr. Lee almost rolls his eyes, but when he sees the intensity in Robert’s gaze, he shrugs, laughs, and says, “Fine. I-”</p><p></p><p>“Alright,” Robert says, cutting him off. “We’re done here. I never want to hear another word from you, Mr. Lee. Belladonna, I hope I never see your face again. Not that I’m a violent man, of course.”</p><p></p><p>He smiles, stands up, and leaves. The Lees say nothing as the rest of the group departs.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Somewhere in the middle of the Mississippi River, Scarpedin cuts back the engine because he hears something thumping. Curious, he and Whitey track the noise to a metal case in the back of the boat, about six feet long.</p><p></p><p>“Holy sh*t,” Whitey says. “This dude’s got someone locked in his trunk. Do you think it’s a chick?”</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin shrugs and opens the case. As soon as daylight shines inside the trunk, a scream fills the air, and the metal trunk fills with flames, covering the body of a flailing person. In just a few seconds, the person has completely incinerated.</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin comes to the obvious conclusion. “Balthazaar is smuggling vampires across the Mississippi!”</p><p></p><p>He tries to call Robert, but Robert calls him first, telling him to meet them at a particular hospital, so they can talk to the Canadian ringleader.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, I dunno,” Scarpedin says. “I might be too much of a loose cannon. Too crazy to come along. You sure you want me?”</p><p></p><p>“Shut up, Scarpedin,” Robert says. “We’re doing this, and then we’re getting out of New Orleans, so meet us there if you don’t want to get left behind.”</p><p></p><p>Scarpedin huffs, a little angry. “Fine. But do me a favor. Ask Balthazaar what his computer’s password is, okay?”</p><p></p><p>A moment passes, and then Robert’s exasperated voice replies, “No.”</p><p></p><p>“Fine, man,” Scarpedin says, “but you’d better watch out, Robot. You can’t trust Balthazaar. He looks like Kevin Kline, and he’s smuggling vampires.”</p><p></p><p>Robert hangs up. Scarpedin fumes for a bit.</p><p></p><p>“Alright, Whitey,” he says, “drop me off at the nearest dock. Then you can keep the boat.”</p><p></p><p>Whitey nods proudly. “Awesome.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 2854953, member: 63"] [i]November 1, 2005 7:45 am[/i] In the swamp outside of Gaian New Orleans, Robert Black and the ghost of Terry Abrams take their best guess of the direction to the French Quarter, where it will hopefully be safer than the marshland. They manage to avoid getting too close to the strange white alligators or the seemingly empty hovels on stilts that stick up between cyprus trees, tinny jazz curling out of their open doors and windows. Robert and Terry have a lot of time to talk, but they don’t say much of importance. One risked his life to give the other a chance to not die in vain. After that, neither feels like talking would mean much. [i]The thrill is gone The thrill is gone away The thrill is gone baby The thrill is gone away You know you done me wrong baby And you'll be sorry someday.[/i] [indent]- B. B. King, “The Thrill is Gone”[/indent] Robert is finally feeling sunken stones under his feet, a sign that he’s coming out of the floodlands and is nearing the French Quarter. The sun is up but shadows are still long, and Robert is tired. Out of the shadows of the forest, just at the edge of the French Quarter, a cloaked figure appears ten feet in front of Robert. It is the same strange, faceless figure that confronted him and the others less than a day ago when he was last on Gaia. This time it does not hold a lantern, but a book. [i]“You have returned,”[/i] it says, its voice crackling dryly, but with an undertone of deep, squirmy wetness.[i] “Good.”[/i] Robert hesitates. “Terry, don’t ask it any questions, but I would like to know if you could do anything to make sure this thing doesn’t kill me.” It floats less than a foot closer, but as the edge of its robe slides into the water near Robert, the surface begins to ripple and reflect faint images, moving like a dozen inter-spliced films. He can’t make out any single event, but Robert thinks he sees a flash of himself, holding a bloody blade, and of a beautiful Asian woman lying in snow, and of sand blowing across a cave in a storm. “You got a book,” Robert says, ignoring the visions. “Good for you. I’m not interested in making any deals.” [i]“You do not need to give up any secrets to me,”[/i] it says. [i]“I ask but a small price. Deliver this to the fallen one, the one who calls himself John.”[/i] “No deals? Then it’s okay if I ask a question?” The hooded creature, faceless, bows in an exaggerated nod, but then it holds up a hand sharply. [i]“However, I do have answers that you would find critical. You,”[/i] it pauses and points at Terry, [i]“and you, longwalker.”[/i] Robert glances at Terry, and the ghost looks seriously tempted, but then he shakes his head. “No, Robert. It’s too dangerous.” “This guy might know who wanted you dead,” Robert says. “And then, by extension, who tried to kill me. So yeah, um, mysterious black-cloaked figure. Yeah, you. Is that the answer you’re offering?” The secret-keeper bows slightly, but Robert isn’t sure if it’s nodding or shrugging. “Okay,” Robert says, “that was pretty ambiguous. I want to know who wanted Terry dead, who’s behind all this. What do you want in exchange? You want me to deliver the book to John?” The hooded figure shakes its head, and something of its posture makes it look amused. It slides a step closer, raises a skeletal green hand to its hood, and pulls it back. Robert [i]knows[/i], with certainty, and he feels disappointed, like the world has lessened significantly. He also [i]knows[/i] that he should not remember what he just saw under the creature’s cloak, but he does. Tendrils, flesh the color of seaweed, veins thick with violet puss, coiled into the shape of a man, and eyes, countless, strained up between the tentacles, trying to peer out every inch of the body, eyes that are undeniably human in the midst of an alien horror. The secret-keeper resets its hood, and Robert does his best to pretend that he doesn’t actually remember what he saw, but he feels so weak he doubts he’s convincing. The creature almost curtsies, pressing the book into Robert’s hands, and then it turns and departs slowly. “Uh . . . yeah,” Robert says, blustering. “Yeah, thanks for nothing. I’ll cover my end of the bargain, which is, y’know, delivering this book to John, but then, uh, yeah, then we’ll be square.” A small crowd of people appear on the street, walk past the secret-keeper, and when they pass the creature is gone. “So,” Terry says. “I think what you did was pretty stupid, but you don’t look insane. So, what did it show you?” “You didn’t see?” Robert asks. Terry shakes his head. “Do you know who’s responsible?” Robert frowns. “No. What a gyp.” “Well, we’re at the French Quarter. It should be safe for me to get us back to Terra.” Robert nods. Try as he might, he cannot remember what the secret-keeper told him, but he has a sense that he [i]will[/i] know, soon enough. [center]* * *[/center] Eventually, Nathan regroups with the Bureau, and Robert reappears near Jackson Square. By 9am they’re all gathered in the Bureau office. There’s still much to figure out. Robert and Scarpedin explain that Terry’s still around, and that he’s still quite able to travel between the two worlds. Though Terry claims to be mentally exhausted after his second jump in just an hour, he wants to help the Bureau, and Robert and Scarpedin are willing to go along. Nathan is willing as ever, since he had a vision of a person being imperiled on the road to Savannah. John, while he feels a duty to help the Bureau, is a little bitter at Terry, since he feels like he’s being treated as an outsider now since he didn’t go running off stupidly to try to kill Adrien Lee. That brings them to the hitch. They still didn’t manage to kill Mr. Lee. While Nathan assures them that there was a telepath there controlling the actions of father and daughter, Robert wants to see Mr. Lee for himself, this time under more controlled circumstances. No bombs, for instance. Nathan is confident there will be no bombs. He feels that he’s becoming quite proficient at sensing bombs, what with there being three in the past three days. They call Adrien Lee and basically strong-arm him into meeting them one last time, this time in a place of their choosing, the very public and outdoors courtyard in front of the New Orleans Aquarium of the Americas, currently closed for repairs. Mr. Lee agrees unhappily, and they set a time, warning the man not to contact the police, or to bring anyone but himself and his daughter. When that’s set, Robert hands John the book he received from the Secret-Keeper, and relates most of the story. The book confuses John. He says that he received a letter from the owner of a shop here in New Orleans, a letter that said he had a book that would explain some of the questions John had. “What questions?” Robert asks. John says not to worry about it. Nathan says this means it has something to do with him being an angel. But the book John has solves nothing. The first of half the book is written in heiroglyphics, the second part in Greek, with a small section in the back – made of paper that seems to gleam like silk woven with silver – with a form of writing that no one recognizes. John feels a strange familiarity when he sees it. Scarpedin suggests it might be ancient Sumerian, like out of [i]Snow Crash[/i]. This prompts Balthazaar to say that he thinks Scarpedin is too much of a loose cannon, and he insists that Scarpedin not come along when they go to meet Adrien Lee. Scarpedin says stupid things in response to this that do not help his case, and as entertaining as he is, even Terry, who has a soft spot for the man since he saved him, can’t justify bringing along someone so aggressive and, frankly, insane on a low-key mission like that. Scarpedin agrees, but only if the Bureau springs Whitey from prison. This is easily done, and a few mind-wipes and computer hacks later, Whitey and Scarpedin are in Balthazaar’s van, on the way to a dockhouse Balthazaar owns on the eastern shore of the Mississippi. They suspect that the cops might be looking for the group, so Balthazaar warns Scarpedin to stays put. After Balthazaar drives off to head to the meeting with Adrien Lee, Scarpedin smiles to his old biker buddy, and together they start looking for ways to trash Balthazaar’s place. [center]* * *[/center] At the Aquarium of the Americas, the few people who pass by the courtyard are all talking about the rumored attacks of last night and this morning. Adrien Lee and his daughter Belladonna sit in the middle of the otherwise abandoned plaza, waiting for the Bureau. He is confident being so out in the open because one of his few servants he can trust, Tom “Gris-gris” Jones, claimed to place a powerful spell upon him to keep harm from befalling him this day. He will need it, because there is still so much to do. He needs to find out who betrayed him, and how deep the betrayal goes. He knows at least that he has his daughter’s loyalty. She will not leave him. After the Bureau has set up a perimeter of cloaked snipers and observers, Robert, John, Nathan, and Balthazaar arrive. Balthazaar hangs back, wary of threats, while Robert sits down across from Adrien Lee like he’s an old friend. Much banter is exchanged, but no hint is given that Terry’s ghost is still around, nor does Mr. Lee seem to care. Seemingly idle threats from both parties clearly hint at a deep resentment, and in the interest in making sure they’re not going to have to kill each other on account of bad intelligence, Nathan calls for complete honesty. Robert of course lies smoothly. He suspects Mr. Lee is doing so as well. But he cannot doubt the man’s tone when he finally, bitterly admits that he was mind controlled, and that his actions were not his own. Robert relishes the man’s pain, enjoying seeing Adrien Lee weak, but knows that he cannot kill this man. Two days ago, he would have been willing to slit Adrien Lee’s throat anyway, but after what he has seen, Robert doubts the path he has chosen. Still, he wants answers. Mr. Lee does not know who wanted Terry dead. He was aware that a hit had been requested, but knowing his daughter’s association with Terry, he was cautious. He had initially wanted to bring Terry to the mansion to size him up and determine if he was a threat, then to protect him if he wasn’t. Unfortunately, Mr. Lee says, he was betrayed, and his mind was controlled. Maurice Boudreaux, Mr. Lee’s brother-in-law and business partner, has fled the country, and given the holes in security that allowed the telepath onto his manor, and the terrorists with their bombs into the mansion party, Mr. Lee has no doubt Maurice was responsible. He suggests they look for him if they want answers, but Robert declines, saying he’s got more important things to do than clean up Mr. Lee’s messes. Belladonna says she’s sorry, and that she wishes none of this had happened. That wins her no points, especially not with Robert, who heard directly from Terry that Belladonna did not even try to stop her father from killing him. Even if Robert accepts Mr. Lee’s story that he was mind-controlled, that still leaves his daughter as a murdering bitch. [center]* * *[/center] After using magical telekinesis ("Hey Whitey, look what I can do now.") to unlock the door to Balthazaar’s private office from the inside, and after he has stolen Balthazaar’s computer and smashed his desk trying to see if the man keeps vampire porn, Scarpedin turns his sights to the speedboat docked in the boathouse. He and Whitey get on board, toss in the computer and a few other looted items, and hotwire the thing. Scarpedin doesn’t know how to drive a boat, but he figures the Mississippi is a big river, so he’ll probably have time to figure out how before he crashes the thing. [center]* * *[/center] Negotiations begin between Robert and Mr. Lee, reparations of a sort for Terry’s death. Mr. Lee knows in which hospital the lead Canadian terrorist – the man with the mini-gun – is being treated, and he agrees to let them have the man. “And one more thing,” Robert says. “You know, I won’t even try to lie here. I wish I could kill you, but y’know what, I can’t. But if I’m going to let you live, I want to make sure that you do at least one thing good with your life, since I’m sure you’re going to go back to being a murdering bastard as soon as we’re not around.” “Would you like etiquette lessons?” Adrien Lee asks. Robert laughs once. “No. But . . . I want you to build a playground. A place for children to have fun. I’ll be back in a few months, and if I find a new playground that you’re responsible for, you won’t have to die.” Mr. Lee almost rolls his eyes, but when he sees the intensity in Robert’s gaze, he shrugs, laughs, and says, “Fine. I-” “Alright,” Robert says, cutting him off. “We’re done here. I never want to hear another word from you, Mr. Lee. Belladonna, I hope I never see your face again. Not that I’m a violent man, of course.” He smiles, stands up, and leaves. The Lees say nothing as the rest of the group departs. [center]* * *[/center] Somewhere in the middle of the Mississippi River, Scarpedin cuts back the engine because he hears something thumping. Curious, he and Whitey track the noise to a metal case in the back of the boat, about six feet long. “Holy sh*t,” Whitey says. “This dude’s got someone locked in his trunk. Do you think it’s a chick?” Scarpedin shrugs and opens the case. As soon as daylight shines inside the trunk, a scream fills the air, and the metal trunk fills with flames, covering the body of a flailing person. In just a few seconds, the person has completely incinerated. Scarpedin comes to the obvious conclusion. “Balthazaar is smuggling vampires across the Mississippi!” He tries to call Robert, but Robert calls him first, telling him to meet them at a particular hospital, so they can talk to the Canadian ringleader. “Oh, I dunno,” Scarpedin says. “I might be too much of a loose cannon. Too crazy to come along. You sure you want me?” “Shut up, Scarpedin,” Robert says. “We’re doing this, and then we’re getting out of New Orleans, so meet us there if you don’t want to get left behind.” Scarpedin huffs, a little angry. “Fine. But do me a favor. Ask Balthazaar what his computer’s password is, okay?” A moment passes, and then Robert’s exasperated voice replies, “No.” “Fine, man,” Scarpedin says, “but you’d better watch out, Robot. You can’t trust Balthazaar. He looks like Kevin Kline, and he’s smuggling vampires.” Robert hangs up. Scarpedin fumes for a bit. “Alright, Whitey,” he says, “drop me off at the nearest dock. Then you can keep the boat.” Whitey nods proudly. “Awesome.” [/QUOTE]
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High Fantasy Modern Storyhour - The Long Road (updated December 7)
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