The crime rate is up. Only a miniscule five percent. I expected much more after Rufio's destruction of Santa Maya and subsequent release of dozens of dangerous criminals back on to the streets. The police got hand of the situation fairly quick with even helicopter support but some were crafty enough to use their knowledge of the land to slip capture. Police Commissioner Warren Bassett released a statement during a television interview claiming that he has his best men on the hunt for them as well doubling security patrols of the inner city. Bassett was a man of his word, he had a lid on the situation before it boiled over but for God knows how long. Among those who escaped Santa Maya was Brimstone, the stone man, the former big man on campus before Rufio came into power. He was known for being the immovable relic of a bygone age of civilized gangsters and true organized crime, a tried and true gangster. He was put away during a large bust over a decade ago (it took an entire squad to take apprehend him alone) he swore on his life he'd be back to rule the streets again. I have doubt that his return to the underworld would be a mutual agreement between him and Rufio.
I can already feel my head throb from the constant domino effect of my own failures. I should have known better, planned better, the raid wouldn't have gone bad and I wouldn't have had to come up with some bullshit to make a deal with the Devil to save my own life! Like it was a life worth living anyway. But what was I to do? Just die? No. I wasn't going to give up and just let all I've sacrificed go to waste, not like that. Perfect way to start the day, with some self loathing, I thought as I stepped outside my house and walked to the curb to wait for Raymond, he was running late. The morning air was frigid today as the wind slowly chipped at my skin with a slow howl. I used my control over my body's vibration to keep my temperature steady. The only thing I could honestly hear was myself constantly berating my own failures and how I should be better than what I am, it was a vicious cycle and usually a daily cycle with me. I had very little tolerance for failure especially from me.
"Where are you, Ray?" I asked. He was ten minutes late now, which is strange even from him. He was a lax guy but he knew how to stick to a time schedule.
"Maybe he's tied up at the moment." A voice from behind me said over the winds.
I quickly about faced to find Rufio, leaned against my door. I felt my heart skip a beat. He put on his trademark smirk and walked up to me. I didn't have the nerve in my body to back up from him as he stood only inches from me. Here I stood face to face again with him, the object of my constant nightmares, Rufio. What did he want from me now?
"You women are always so hard on us men, believing we cater to you and have to be here or there on the dot. A man can't be even a little late or it's sure to be a problem." Rufio spoke as if he were having a casual conversation with me but his face spoke different words altogether. His cold, dead eyes locked with mine as he spoke reading me like a book. He wanted to play games with me. He could see how stunned I was he was even here at my house. He knew the fear he could instill by just showing how much he knows about me.
"What's the matter, Tonya? Is everything alright?" Rufio asked with faux concern.
I didn't respond to him, it would be what he wanted. What I wanted was for him to touch me. I would absorb every bit of kinetic energy from his body, shuting down his heart, lungs, and throat. Nobody would hear him die as he gasped for air. But he was smart, he was close but he kept enough distance from me to react to any sudden move. Plus I knew if I tried anything he could tear me limb from limb with a thought. I just had to sit here and listen.
"Well you're certainly the conversation maker. By the way, nice house. Stark white, I wouldn't think you'd be the type but somehow I guess it fits you, doesn't it? Blank, mute, blends in with everyone else in this place, but on the inside I'm sure there's much more than there should be. A personalized rug, various pictures hung on walls, a coffee table with a copy of Atlas Shrugged bookmarked at page 238. Quite personalized for a... drone, don't you think?"
He's been in my house! My breathing steepened as I tried to shrug off the shock. Rufio's smile widened as he was getting the enjoyment he obviously came for.
"You seem surprised. Information on Drones are public record y'know but I don't think they document pretenders. I wonder what the public would think when they figure out that someone is living Scot-free off of their tax money. I wonder what the FBI would think, better yet what they would do. Don't you?"
"Where's Raymond? What did you do to him?" I asked, gritting my teeth now.
"He's tied up, like I said." Rufio answered. "Tonya, time is moving forward... You haven't forgotten our little arrangement, have you?"
"I haven't forgotten, Rufio. I remember every word I said." I said.
"That's good that you remember. But what do you plan to do? It's only going to get worse from here. I know your secret, a secret I doubt you want out in the open. And the FBI doesn't have a great 'don't ask don't tell' policy do they? I doubt it."
I fell silent and let the wind speak for me. An icy chill ran up my body as a draft engulfed my body. Rufio was more vindictive than I thought he'd be. I'm beginning to see myself as a ball of yarn. Rufio isn't going to just light me on fire and watch the sparks fly, no. He wants to unravel me slowly. He wants to watch as he pulls my thread and I only become smaller in his eyes; he just wants to see me squirm.
I tried calling his bluff. "If that's all you have, Rufio, you're pathetic. What makes you think anyone would believe a psychopath over me?" I said. In my fractured state of mind it was the best I could come up with.
Rufio laughed. He gave a look that ripped through my poker face and continued to laugh. "What does a blank slate know? A Drone shouldn't know the means of defense of an integrity they were not taught to have. A Drone doesn't know how to do more than what they're reprogrammed to do. The second you show even the slightest hint of emotion you're in the red. You're trapped, Tonya, trapped like prey being stalked by its predator. Tonya, your time is running out. This city is already mine, but wait until it's really mine. That's when you're gonna suffer the worst, you'll wish you were a Drone, I'll assure you."
I temporarily snapped out of my stupor. "What do you mean really?" The words escaped my mouthbut not before Rufio vanished into thin air. A new piece of the puzzle has just been introduced. What did he mean when the city is really his? What the hell does that mean? The only thing it means to me is I need to kick whatever the hell I plan to do into high gear, whatever that is.
I gave Ray a call on my house phone, I had almost completely forgotten about him in the cooldown of the moment. Thankfully he was fine, he had an emergency meeting with Striker this morning and claimed to have told me some time ago. I didn't recall but I didn't care either I just told him to come and pick me up.
The incident hadn't been without its aftershock. Ray was pissed that Rufio was even near me and had been in my house. He was more foul mouth than usual and came down so hard on himself for not being there to protect me. I managed to get him to calm down, it wasn't his fault, but I couldn't talk him down from his crazy rants of revenge plans. Each one was crazier than the last; one even involved a shark, some crazy glue, and a rubber band. When he let off enough steam and finally completely calmed down and was sure that I was okay Ray and I talked rationally about the incident. I had admitted to the deal I had made with Rufio in exchange for my life, I didn't give the rest of the story though. Ray was visibly disappointed with me, I could see it as much as he tried to hide it. I think he understood that it was a desperate move and it was the last option I had but it didn't seem to matter. He got over his disappointment and just relished the fact I wasn't killed and took that as the win of the day before he left me with my thoughts.
I got to work monitoring the prison and my new favorite prisoner: Nicholas Blade. His time here hasn't been pleasant; I was sure of that. Under lockdown with the population of other deranged lunatics of his kind combined with my hard crackdown was sure to break him eventually. He never showed it though, maintaining the same glazed look in his eye day by day, but I'm sure he feels the gravity of his situation. Right now he was in the dark corner of the rec area locked in an intense shadow boxing match. I approached and observed him but his attention was elsewhere. A broken and cloudy mirror hung on the wall where he threw his punches; swift and faster than the eye and his form was near perfect. I could tell that he's been at it for some time, sweat poured down his face and hair and he had taken off his shirt. As I looked down I Immediately noticed a dark red streak streaming down his body. A recently stitched wound was torn open and from my standpoint looked agonizing. But Blade didn't seem to care, he just threw punch after punch at his own reflection until the blood began to spatter the wall.
"You're bleeding." I told him.
Nicholas paused for a moment to look at his ribs leaking blood onto his pants. He gave a quick 'yeah' and went right back to throwing punches.
"You're not going to get help? It's gotta hurt." I asked.
"Ironically, it was a prison doctor who put the stitches in. Who woulda thought he'd suck?" Nicholas said as threw two more punches and then took moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes.
"Maybe you tore them out while doing your practice here?"
Nicholas faced me with a look of grim disapproval written across his face. "I've healed from far worse than this, Tonya. I don't need any help. Best thing to do is to let this close up on its own rather than have some more shitty stitch work done, I'll live."
His words were tough but his body was physically crying out, even his face looked weakened and pale. The prison guard called for the end of recreational time and Nicholas tried to brush past me and just drop the subject. I grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. He was getting help whether he thought he needed it or not. Wounds open like that make him an easy target for other prisoners and I'm sure he knew that too which is why he stopped.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Nicholas asked not even turning to face me.
"I'm not going to have you bleed all over my prison. We're going to the infirmary, Blade." I replied.
Nicholas didn't refuse me, we went to the infirmary and he left a nice blood trail for the janitor on the way there. The operation was quick but not painless. I watched Nicholas as he twitched around as each of stitches went in and he had more than just a few to get done. In the recovery area a rare opportunity sprang up as we got a moment to talk, alone. He was the same glass half empty self as he sat up on the bed and I stood beside. He didn't want me there as if I cared what he wanted. He sat quietly and stared at the wall rather than speak for quite a while. But I wanted to ask some things and I do care about what I want.
"Where'd the wound come from anyway?" I asked breaking the silence.
Nicholas looked over to me and narrowed his eyes. "You're not that naive." He said.
"With your record, for all I know that could have been a sniper shot."
Nicholas looked visibly annoyed. Bringing up his record always prompted that reaction I noticed. "I was shanked, in Santa Maya, during the riot. Some jackasses thought they'd finish up some old business with me before trying to bust out."
"Lotta good that did, right?"
"Is this a mandatory second interview?"
"You're not a talker are you?"
"I just like to keep what's on my mind, in my mind."
"Well what's on your mind, Blade? It's not like you're getting out of that bed anytime soon, might as well take a bit of time to get to know each other."
Sensing I wasn't going to go away any time soon Nicholas caved and began speaking his mind. He was surprisingly open about his life with me. He told me about his terrible luck with relationships; something I can relate to entirely. He had a daughter named Anna who he expressed deep affection for as well as her mother Veronica. He admitted the guilt trips he'd had over the years after becoming virtually numb to the heinous acts of man. It was like he was getting these various stories off his chest rather than being forced, like he wanted to, needed to.
I left the infirmary after he had decided to rest up confused and full of regret. Nicholas was an open book if you pried hard enough but I shouldn't have pried in the first place. I shouldn't have tried to get to know a criminal, it would just impede my judgement. Now I started thinking about his daughter, only four years old in a city that's en route to Hell. It plagued me quite a bit it did. She was going to be one of countless lives that live in the same city as Rufio Martin, the walking slaughterhouse. Even back in my office I couldn't get it off of my mind. I sat quietly in the dark with the only illumination being the sun rays gleaming through the window across the room onto the floor. My eyes were looking in a direction I'm certain because they weren't closed but I had no idea where they were looking. I wasn't just thinking about Anna, I was thinking about people like Anna. The people who were pure and uncorrupted by this city. The ones who just want to live a carefree and prosperous life. Contrary to popular belief they still existed. I wanted to be them, I wanted to stop carrying the damn world on my shoulders and run free without a care in the world, but that isn't how the world itself works. It's only how I wished it would work.
My phone rang. Completely breaking me out of my mood. It was my in office phone; a private line. Nobody has the number to my private line, it was strictly for Ray, Striker, or associates so it must have been important. To my confusion I picked up to the sound of an extremely Southern accent speaking from the other end. I had to temporarily dawn on my accountant's voice and I played the part.
"Yellow?" The man spoke.
"Belham Correctional Facility, Tonya Harding speaking."
"Hello miss Harding, my name is Christopher Hughes. Lissen' I'm callin' bout a young man named Nicholas Blade. A representative of Santa Maya had told me that he had been transferred there and gave me this number to call."
"The transfer of inmates to Belham is classified information, mister Hughes, whoever told you said information has made a serious mistake. May I have their name so that I may report it to their superiors?"
"Uhhhh... I was just joking, uh I heard it from word of mouth, y'know from the grapevine? Anyway is he there?"
"This information is classified, sir. Inmates of Belham remain here anonymously."
Chris gave an audible sigh. "Ok, I will make this worth ya while if you can just get a message to him. Huh, whaddoya say? Wink wink?"
"Are you offering a bribe, mister Hughes?"
"A bri- no! No no, Heavens to Betsy that would be unethi- Look two thousand dollars, how's that sound?"
"Sir, I will not accept a bribe and violate my protocol. I will hang up now, do not call here again."
"Ok, ok ya twisted my arm. Two thousand five hundred and a trip to Malibu."
"Goodbye, sir."
I hung up the phone in mild frustration. I surely heard the nae Christopher Hughes before being thrown about, a big shot CEO of Wyrm Enterprises North America but I had never seen him honestly. I did a quick google search to figure out who the mystery man was and I couldn't believe my eyes. Pictures popped up on articles and it was a face I've definitely seen before. I never knew his real name and I've only met him a couple of times before. His fascination with Nicholas strikes me as odd though. What would a rich businessman like him want with a street level mercenary? As with all odd things I sought to even it out. Chris wouldn't mind a bit of company I'm sure. Next stop: Wyrm Enterprises.
I can already feel my head throb from the constant domino effect of my own failures. I should have known better, planned better, the raid wouldn't have gone bad and I wouldn't have had to come up with some bullshit to make a deal with the Devil to save my own life! Like it was a life worth living anyway. But what was I to do? Just die? No. I wasn't going to give up and just let all I've sacrificed go to waste, not like that. Perfect way to start the day, with some self loathing, I thought as I stepped outside my house and walked to the curb to wait for Raymond, he was running late. The morning air was frigid today as the wind slowly chipped at my skin with a slow howl. I used my control over my body's vibration to keep my temperature steady. The only thing I could honestly hear was myself constantly berating my own failures and how I should be better than what I am, it was a vicious cycle and usually a daily cycle with me. I had very little tolerance for failure especially from me.
"Where are you, Ray?" I asked. He was ten minutes late now, which is strange even from him. He was a lax guy but he knew how to stick to a time schedule.
"Maybe he's tied up at the moment." A voice from behind me said over the winds.
I quickly about faced to find Rufio, leaned against my door. I felt my heart skip a beat. He put on his trademark smirk and walked up to me. I didn't have the nerve in my body to back up from him as he stood only inches from me. Here I stood face to face again with him, the object of my constant nightmares, Rufio. What did he want from me now?
"You women are always so hard on us men, believing we cater to you and have to be here or there on the dot. A man can't be even a little late or it's sure to be a problem." Rufio spoke as if he were having a casual conversation with me but his face spoke different words altogether. His cold, dead eyes locked with mine as he spoke reading me like a book. He wanted to play games with me. He could see how stunned I was he was even here at my house. He knew the fear he could instill by just showing how much he knows about me.
"What's the matter, Tonya? Is everything alright?" Rufio asked with faux concern.
I didn't respond to him, it would be what he wanted. What I wanted was for him to touch me. I would absorb every bit of kinetic energy from his body, shuting down his heart, lungs, and throat. Nobody would hear him die as he gasped for air. But he was smart, he was close but he kept enough distance from me to react to any sudden move. Plus I knew if I tried anything he could tear me limb from limb with a thought. I just had to sit here and listen.
"Well you're certainly the conversation maker. By the way, nice house. Stark white, I wouldn't think you'd be the type but somehow I guess it fits you, doesn't it? Blank, mute, blends in with everyone else in this place, but on the inside I'm sure there's much more than there should be. A personalized rug, various pictures hung on walls, a coffee table with a copy of Atlas Shrugged bookmarked at page 238. Quite personalized for a... drone, don't you think?"
He's been in my house! My breathing steepened as I tried to shrug off the shock. Rufio's smile widened as he was getting the enjoyment he obviously came for.
"You seem surprised. Information on Drones are public record y'know but I don't think they document pretenders. I wonder what the public would think when they figure out that someone is living Scot-free off of their tax money. I wonder what the FBI would think, better yet what they would do. Don't you?"
"Where's Raymond? What did you do to him?" I asked, gritting my teeth now.
"He's tied up, like I said." Rufio answered. "Tonya, time is moving forward... You haven't forgotten our little arrangement, have you?"
"I haven't forgotten, Rufio. I remember every word I said." I said.
"That's good that you remember. But what do you plan to do? It's only going to get worse from here. I know your secret, a secret I doubt you want out in the open. And the FBI doesn't have a great 'don't ask don't tell' policy do they? I doubt it."
I fell silent and let the wind speak for me. An icy chill ran up my body as a draft engulfed my body. Rufio was more vindictive than I thought he'd be. I'm beginning to see myself as a ball of yarn. Rufio isn't going to just light me on fire and watch the sparks fly, no. He wants to unravel me slowly. He wants to watch as he pulls my thread and I only become smaller in his eyes; he just wants to see me squirm.
I tried calling his bluff. "If that's all you have, Rufio, you're pathetic. What makes you think anyone would believe a psychopath over me?" I said. In my fractured state of mind it was the best I could come up with.
Rufio laughed. He gave a look that ripped through my poker face and continued to laugh. "What does a blank slate know? A Drone shouldn't know the means of defense of an integrity they were not taught to have. A Drone doesn't know how to do more than what they're reprogrammed to do. The second you show even the slightest hint of emotion you're in the red. You're trapped, Tonya, trapped like prey being stalked by its predator. Tonya, your time is running out. This city is already mine, but wait until it's really mine. That's when you're gonna suffer the worst, you'll wish you were a Drone, I'll assure you."
I temporarily snapped out of my stupor. "What do you mean really?" The words escaped my mouthbut not before Rufio vanished into thin air. A new piece of the puzzle has just been introduced. What did he mean when the city is really his? What the hell does that mean? The only thing it means to me is I need to kick whatever the hell I plan to do into high gear, whatever that is.
I gave Ray a call on my house phone, I had almost completely forgotten about him in the cooldown of the moment. Thankfully he was fine, he had an emergency meeting with Striker this morning and claimed to have told me some time ago. I didn't recall but I didn't care either I just told him to come and pick me up.
The incident hadn't been without its aftershock. Ray was pissed that Rufio was even near me and had been in my house. He was more foul mouth than usual and came down so hard on himself for not being there to protect me. I managed to get him to calm down, it wasn't his fault, but I couldn't talk him down from his crazy rants of revenge plans. Each one was crazier than the last; one even involved a shark, some crazy glue, and a rubber band. When he let off enough steam and finally completely calmed down and was sure that I was okay Ray and I talked rationally about the incident. I had admitted to the deal I had made with Rufio in exchange for my life, I didn't give the rest of the story though. Ray was visibly disappointed with me, I could see it as much as he tried to hide it. I think he understood that it was a desperate move and it was the last option I had but it didn't seem to matter. He got over his disappointment and just relished the fact I wasn't killed and took that as the win of the day before he left me with my thoughts.
I got to work monitoring the prison and my new favorite prisoner: Nicholas Blade. His time here hasn't been pleasant; I was sure of that. Under lockdown with the population of other deranged lunatics of his kind combined with my hard crackdown was sure to break him eventually. He never showed it though, maintaining the same glazed look in his eye day by day, but I'm sure he feels the gravity of his situation. Right now he was in the dark corner of the rec area locked in an intense shadow boxing match. I approached and observed him but his attention was elsewhere. A broken and cloudy mirror hung on the wall where he threw his punches; swift and faster than the eye and his form was near perfect. I could tell that he's been at it for some time, sweat poured down his face and hair and he had taken off his shirt. As I looked down I Immediately noticed a dark red streak streaming down his body. A recently stitched wound was torn open and from my standpoint looked agonizing. But Blade didn't seem to care, he just threw punch after punch at his own reflection until the blood began to spatter the wall.
"You're bleeding." I told him.
Nicholas paused for a moment to look at his ribs leaking blood onto his pants. He gave a quick 'yeah' and went right back to throwing punches.
"You're not going to get help? It's gotta hurt." I asked.
"Ironically, it was a prison doctor who put the stitches in. Who woulda thought he'd suck?" Nicholas said as threw two more punches and then took moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes.
"Maybe you tore them out while doing your practice here?"
Nicholas faced me with a look of grim disapproval written across his face. "I've healed from far worse than this, Tonya. I don't need any help. Best thing to do is to let this close up on its own rather than have some more shitty stitch work done, I'll live."
His words were tough but his body was physically crying out, even his face looked weakened and pale. The prison guard called for the end of recreational time and Nicholas tried to brush past me and just drop the subject. I grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. He was getting help whether he thought he needed it or not. Wounds open like that make him an easy target for other prisoners and I'm sure he knew that too which is why he stopped.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Nicholas asked not even turning to face me.
"I'm not going to have you bleed all over my prison. We're going to the infirmary, Blade." I replied.
Nicholas didn't refuse me, we went to the infirmary and he left a nice blood trail for the janitor on the way there. The operation was quick but not painless. I watched Nicholas as he twitched around as each of stitches went in and he had more than just a few to get done. In the recovery area a rare opportunity sprang up as we got a moment to talk, alone. He was the same glass half empty self as he sat up on the bed and I stood beside. He didn't want me there as if I cared what he wanted. He sat quietly and stared at the wall rather than speak for quite a while. But I wanted to ask some things and I do care about what I want.
"Where'd the wound come from anyway?" I asked breaking the silence.
Nicholas looked over to me and narrowed his eyes. "You're not that naive." He said.
"With your record, for all I know that could have been a sniper shot."
Nicholas looked visibly annoyed. Bringing up his record always prompted that reaction I noticed. "I was shanked, in Santa Maya, during the riot. Some jackasses thought they'd finish up some old business with me before trying to bust out."
"Lotta good that did, right?"
"Is this a mandatory second interview?"
"You're not a talker are you?"
"I just like to keep what's on my mind, in my mind."
"Well what's on your mind, Blade? It's not like you're getting out of that bed anytime soon, might as well take a bit of time to get to know each other."
Sensing I wasn't going to go away any time soon Nicholas caved and began speaking his mind. He was surprisingly open about his life with me. He told me about his terrible luck with relationships; something I can relate to entirely. He had a daughter named Anna who he expressed deep affection for as well as her mother Veronica. He admitted the guilt trips he'd had over the years after becoming virtually numb to the heinous acts of man. It was like he was getting these various stories off his chest rather than being forced, like he wanted to, needed to.
I left the infirmary after he had decided to rest up confused and full of regret. Nicholas was an open book if you pried hard enough but I shouldn't have pried in the first place. I shouldn't have tried to get to know a criminal, it would just impede my judgement. Now I started thinking about his daughter, only four years old in a city that's en route to Hell. It plagued me quite a bit it did. She was going to be one of countless lives that live in the same city as Rufio Martin, the walking slaughterhouse. Even back in my office I couldn't get it off of my mind. I sat quietly in the dark with the only illumination being the sun rays gleaming through the window across the room onto the floor. My eyes were looking in a direction I'm certain because they weren't closed but I had no idea where they were looking. I wasn't just thinking about Anna, I was thinking about people like Anna. The people who were pure and uncorrupted by this city. The ones who just want to live a carefree and prosperous life. Contrary to popular belief they still existed. I wanted to be them, I wanted to stop carrying the damn world on my shoulders and run free without a care in the world, but that isn't how the world itself works. It's only how I wished it would work.
My phone rang. Completely breaking me out of my mood. It was my in office phone; a private line. Nobody has the number to my private line, it was strictly for Ray, Striker, or associates so it must have been important. To my confusion I picked up to the sound of an extremely Southern accent speaking from the other end. I had to temporarily dawn on my accountant's voice and I played the part.
"Yellow?" The man spoke.
"Belham Correctional Facility, Tonya Harding speaking."
"Hello miss Harding, my name is Christopher Hughes. Lissen' I'm callin' bout a young man named Nicholas Blade. A representative of Santa Maya had told me that he had been transferred there and gave me this number to call."
"The transfer of inmates to Belham is classified information, mister Hughes, whoever told you said information has made a serious mistake. May I have their name so that I may report it to their superiors?"
"Uhhhh... I was just joking, uh I heard it from word of mouth, y'know from the grapevine? Anyway is he there?"
"This information is classified, sir. Inmates of Belham remain here anonymously."
Chris gave an audible sigh. "Ok, I will make this worth ya while if you can just get a message to him. Huh, whaddoya say? Wink wink?"
"Are you offering a bribe, mister Hughes?"
"A bri- no! No no, Heavens to Betsy that would be unethi- Look two thousand dollars, how's that sound?"
"Sir, I will not accept a bribe and violate my protocol. I will hang up now, do not call here again."
"Ok, ok ya twisted my arm. Two thousand five hundred and a trip to Malibu."
"Goodbye, sir."
I hung up the phone in mild frustration. I surely heard the nae Christopher Hughes before being thrown about, a big shot CEO of Wyrm Enterprises North America but I had never seen him honestly. I did a quick google search to figure out who the mystery man was and I couldn't believe my eyes. Pictures popped up on articles and it was a face I've definitely seen before. I never knew his real name and I've only met him a couple of times before. His fascination with Nicholas strikes me as odd though. What would a rich businessman like him want with a street level mercenary? As with all odd things I sought to even it out. Chris wouldn't mind a bit of company I'm sure. Next stop: Wyrm Enterprises.
Just stumbled upon this blog..Cool story from the little i read.Currently editing my blog so i ld read it appropriately when am done
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