Chapter 19-- Secrets

Part 1--

Jayme's phone rang and she reached over to answer it. It was very early in the morning, and wondered who would be calling her at this hour.

"Jayme, it's Neil."

"Neil, are you okay?" Jayme asked. "It's really early in the morning."

"I know, darling," Neil said, "and I'm sorry, but I got this urge to call you to tell you I love you with everything I possess."

"I love you, too, Neil," she said. "I've been reading the stories in the papers about your impending divorce. Some of them are terrible!"

"I'm sorry, Jayme," Neil said; "I know this is going to be hard on you. You have to be strong for me. Can you do that, my beautiful girl?"

"Yes, Neil, I can," said Jayme.

"Good. I have to go now. Please know that whatever happens, you'll always have my love. I'll try and call again soon, Jayme."

"Neil..." Jayme said suddenly, "is everything okay?"

"Ever since you came to see me, I've felt like a new person. I really do have to go now, darling. Stay strong for me..."

"I-I will, Neil."

"Goodbye, Jayme. I love you."

Before Jayme could respond, Neil had hung up.

Then she got scared. She knew she couldn't call him back. She didn't have the number he had called from. Jayme notated the time: 4:23am on April 23rd. She didn't know it, but that time and date would become important in a few months.

It would be when she learned that she'd never see Neil Hope again.

And their unborn child would never know its father.

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Sarah Kathryn was pissed off. First her husband files for divorce, citing inability to live with her in a civil manner; then the Committee Chairman and Co-Chairman both have had questionable activities when they were on their own time; her son was not speaking to her and kept her grandchildren away from her; finally, her decisions were being met with resistance from the supporters of the New Government.

"I really, really, REALLY hate this job," she screamed at her reflection in the mirror. The woman who looked back at her was old, wrinkled, crabby, and would become the first President to get divorced while in office.

She got on the phone and asked her secretary to have Carl Parks and Lane Sizemore meet her at three that afternoon. She wanted to give them both a piece of her mind. Even though the Committee gave her the power to pass laws they suggest, she still had the power to fire anyone on the Committee. Including the Chairman and Co-Chairman.

"Both of those men are insane!" Sarah Kathryn fumed. "At least I could deal with Jed McClayne, God rest his tortured soul; but these two? Fuckin' whores, beating up women, terrorizing teen hookers, being arrested for not paying for a hotel room? You'd think the Capitol Sector was one big whorehouse!"

She wasn't looking forward to this meeting, that was for damn sure. She wasn't looking forward to having a press conference about her impending divorce, either. She had no idea where Neil was. All Sarah Kathryn knew is that he wasn't in the hospital anymore. He'd been gone a couple of months by the time she decided to check on him.

Calling his former law firm didn't answer any questions for her, either. They hadn't heard from Neil since he checked himself into the hospital in December.

Sarah Kathryn couldn't worry about Neil right now. She had a country to run, and government employees to reprimand.

Neil will just have to wait, Sarah Kathryn thought.

----------

There were times, and this was one of them, that Rebekah wished she were still Jessikah.

There had been a story in the compound's newspaper about her brother Luke, and how he and another man freed nearly one hundred falsely imprisoned people in a poorly run prison in the SouthWest Region. The guard who got drunk on duty was eventually relieved of his duties, then was killed.

She was so proud of Luke, and she couldn't tell anyone that he was her brother. Rebekah felt sad at that thought, and folded up the newspaper and put it on the bottom of her footlocker.

In the four months she had been at Chicagoland, she learned a lot of things about weaponry and marksmanship; she had gotten near perfect scores on all her field trials, and convinced Morbus and the other trainers that she indeed had the makings of a Black Ops assassin.

She also learned a lot about herself.

Rebekah learned that she really could live without smack, and that the pain she had from her accident was fading slowly. She learned to accept herself as she was, even with the scars she carried on the right side of her face and body. She could have surgery to lessen the scarring, and while she wanted to do that, it scared her somewhat. She knew she'd never look like her twin again, but she was willing to live with that. Biologically, they were still identical.

With a month to go until the end of her training, she looked forward to using her newly acquired skills. Rebekah was coming into her own and not having to live another girl's life any longer. She could be herself, if she could figure out who that was.

What Rebekah really wanted was to see her father, brother and sister again. But this was not the time. They'd been apart six years. Would she even be the same person to them she was before she "died"? That's something she didn't want to consider at this point.

One day at a time, Jessi, she thought to herself. But she hoped someday, that someone would see the good in her and give her a chance. As long as it didn't involve sex or smack, she was all for it. She'd been given one chance by her Director, another by Morbus. The rest of the chances would be up to her.

----------

A familiar figure presented themselves at Christine Collins' front door.

Christine was glad that her son was at a friend's house overnight for a sleepover. It would make things a lot easier with the person on the other side of the door if she didn't have to explain to her eight year old son who the visitor was.

She opened the door and Morbus stood on the other side.

"Good evening, Christine," he said. "I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time."

"Come in," Christine said. Morbus walked inside and Christine closed the door and locked it. "Have a seat, Jacob."

"The boy isn't here, is he?" Morbus asked.

"He's at a sleepover at a friend's house tonight, so, no he's not here," Christine said. "I'm sorry you missed seeing him."

"I'm not sure if my seeing him would be a good idea, Chris," Morbus said. "Besides, it's you I came here to see."

"Me? You could have just come to the office for that," Christine said.

"This is not official business, Chris," Morbus said. "It's personal."

Christine didn't know how to take that. It had been nearly nine years since Morbus had been in her home, since the night she told him she was expecting his child.

"I see," she said. "What is it that brings you here?"

"You," said Morbus. "When I talked to Rebekah a couple of weeks ago, she mentioned that she didn't know that you and I knew each other. She asked when the last time I'd seen you was, and I honestly couldn't remember."

"It was the last time you saw J.T.; shortly after his third birthday. He was coloring at my desk," Christine said. "You remarked about how big the desk was in comparison to him, and he told you, 'I'll grow into it.' Remember?"

"Yes," Morbus said, smiling as best he could. "Quick wit. Is he still like that?"

"Oh yes, he certainly is, Jacob," Christine said. "I don't know where he gets it from, because I'm not that clever."

"I used to do that a lot when I was younger," Morbus said. "I've had nothing to be clever about since then, except maybe the time I had to explain to Julia who James Bond was when she was fourteen."

"The New Haven thing, right?" asked Christine.

"Yes, the girl ran away from home to save her brothers from their biological aunt who was the Region Leader for the Illegals," Morbus said. "She shot six people to save her brothers, their biological sister and her family. Then she stole a car I hotwired and lept over a passing train, landing perfectly just inside the gates of the airstrip where the Disturbed Ones jet was waiting."

"You have no idea what to expect from that girl, Jacob," Christine said. "She's the best of the best."

"She surprises me everyday," Morbus said. "But I didn't come all this way to talk about my daughter's exploits, Chris. I came to see you. I miss you, and it took a young woman with many scars to make me realize that."

"I'm glad you came, Jacob," Christine said. "I've missed you as well, especially since I sent Rebekah to Chicagoland to have you train her."

"Can we just spend time together?" Morbus asked. "Sometimes, my life gets a little lonely and my memories aren't what they used to be."

"I'd like that," Christine said. "It's been a long time since I had someone over. I don't even date because lots of men are put off by the fact I have a child."

"It's their loss, then," Morbus said. "I'm sure J.T. is a wonderful son."

"He is, and you should be part of his life," Christine said. "But I know why you can't."

"It's to protect you both," Morbus said. "What I do is dangerous and could put you and our son in danger."

"But you're here now," Christine said.

"I'm retiring as an assassin, Chris," Morbus said. "But I'm still David's main bodyguard. I train assassins, and they're damn good at what they do. One of them will take over for me soon. I've narrowed it down to two candidates."

"I'm betting your daughter isn't one of them," Christine said.

"No, she's not. She's not even seventeen yet. And, she's female. I have other plans for her and the other females in Black Ops."

"Including Rebekah?"

"Yes, including her. She's outlasted most of the male trainees," Morbus said. "She's pretty tough, but her history probably has a lot to do with it."

"Indeed," Christine said.

"Chris..." said Morbus suddenly; "I need..."

"Shhh, Jacob," Christine said softly. "You're safe here, my darling. I promise." She sat closer to him and he put his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder. They just sat there like that for a while, neither saying a word to the other.

She took off the hood he wore, exposing his scarred scalp. Morbus had only let one other woman do that. "Please trust me, Jacob," Christine said.

"I do trust you, Chris," he replied. "You're the only other one I feel I can expose my skin to."

"You know you're a kind and gentle soul beneath all the scars," Christine said. "It's that man I fell hard for almost ten years ago. I don't care what you look like on the outside. It's what's in your heart, your soul, your being that counts."

"You always know what to say, dearest Christine," Morbus said. He touched her face gently. He loved her deep green eyes; her soft, thick red hair; those beautiful lips...

He kissed her and she responded. He felt her hand brush away at his scalp, as if he still had hair. Christine's hand traced what remained of his left ear, then felt it slip down to his jacket. He knew at that moment that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"My dearest, darling Jacob," Christine sighed, "let me... let me love you."

"Please, Christine..." Morbus said. "I need your love..."

Christine led Morbus to her bedroom, where they made love until the early hours of the morning.

"Chris, I have to go," Morbus said later. "Thank you for loving me. You know I've always loved you, even after I left your life."

"I know, Jacob," Christine said. "I'm glad you came to see me. I hope it's not another five years before you return to me."

"I don't want it to be," Morbus said. "But in order to do what I do, I have to deny myself certain pleasures. Being with you, and Jordan before that, is one of those pleasures. I'll try to return soon. Maybe I can see my son next time."

"I think I'd like that," Christine said. "J.T. wants to meet you."

"You'll have to prepare him for what I look like," Morbus said.

"I know," Christine said. "And I will. He'll be ready to meet you whenever you return."

"For the foreseeable future, though," Morbus said; "We have to keep it professional. I'll call you at the office if I need anything."

"You can count on me, Morbus," Christine said.

"Good, Madame Director," Morbus said, smiling. "Until the next time, be safe and continue to believe in the cause."

"I shall."

It was still dark when Morbus slipped out the back door of Christine's house. Christine only looked at the door and said to herself, I love you, too, Jacob.

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Part 2--

Parks and Sizemore sat in the meeting room, awaiting their meeting with the President. Neither man was looking forward to it.

"I fucked up," Sizemore said. "And I'm willing to admit it to the President."

"Even if that means she asks for your resignation, Lane?" asked Parks.

"She won't," Sizemore said. "Now that Neil is divorcing her, she'll need us more than ever. We'll still be able to suggest laws for her to sign."

Parks just looked at Sizemore like he'd grown a second head. Then he said,

"I've got a few to suggest; they're all related to keeping Undesirables in line. Make them fear disobeying us. Deny them certain rights. Arrest as many as possible."

"What about the Disturbed Ones rally that is being planned for Austin in the SouthWest Region? We still going to try and eliminate Draiman?" asked Sizemore.

"Of course," Parks said. "He's the reason we're losing support. Without him, the Disturbed Ones movement will wither and die. I look forward to returning Jordan Terranova to a prison cell for the rest of her miserable life. Maybe her daughter could join her there. I don't care what happens to Draiman's daughters with her."

"You'd better care," said Sarah Kathryn from behind the two men; "because Jordan Draiman will fight tooth and nail to keep those girls from harm, even if it means she dies or goes to prison."

"Madame President," both men said at once while attempting to stand.

"Oh sit down," Sarah Kathryn said. "I'm not in a good mood right now so you're just going to have to sit there and listen to me."

Sizemore and Parks just looked at her, then at each other. Parks was thinking, we're in some deep shit.

"First of all, neither one of you are angels, got that," Sarah Kathryn began; "Second of all, how DARE you use the Capitol Region for your whore chasing shenanigans! It's bad enough I've been served with divorce papers, but you two and your exploits are enough to make me kill both of you with my bare hands.

"Carl, if what I'm reading about you is true, that you beat up women, including your own wife and daughter, I will have no problem asking for your immediate resignation as Chairman of the Committee. That kind of behavior, had it been known about before you took over for the late Jed McClayne, would never have allowed you to become Chairman.

"Lane, you're participating in questionable behavior. Did we not write laws stating that homosexuality was illegal and would result in being declared Undesirable? So what's this about you and male prostitutes? Or was it just something you wanted to try? And stiffing a teen hooker and the motel you took her to... you're skating on thin ice, Mister.

"If I hear another peep about either one of you and your extracurricular activities, I will demand your immediate resignations. And, Carl, forget suggesting some of those ridiculous laws for me to sign. There are other ways of garnering support. Think of a few!

"I'm done with both of you for the time being," Sarah Kathryn concluded. "Just remember, I'm not the only one watching you, you know. The Disturbed Ones are always watching. How in hell do you think Draiman stays in control? Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind!"

Sarah Kathryn turned and left the meeting room, still fuming. Stupid men, she thought blackly, always trying to get some ass...

Sizemore and Parks still sat in the meeting room after the President left.

"That went well, don'tcha think, Lane?" Parks said sarcastically.

"Oh, yeah, Carl. It went swimmingly," Sizemore shot back. "Nothing like getting a new one torn by a woman who couldn't keep her man."

"Whatever Neil Hope has done, he's asked for a lot of grief by serving the President with divorce papers," Parks said. "There must be a woman involved somewhere."

"Maybe he's just sick of being married to a shrew," Sizemore replied. "I'm not sure I'd like being married to her, either. Besides, I don't care what the circumstances are; it's their business that's being put out on Front Street. It will be a soap opera for sure."

"She'll take her frustrations out on us, you can count on that," Parks said. "She has no idea where her husband is. He supposedly left the hospital he checked himself into in December a couple of months before she thought to ask about when he'd be released."

"Is anyone going to look for him?" Sizemore asked.

"Only if he doesn't show up in court, and that could take months," Parks said. "Divorces are achingly slow. Even if you're divorcing the President of the Republic."

"I wouldn't mind being him right now. I'd like to go into hiding, too." Sizemore said.

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Maryssa came home from a scheduled doctor's appointment with some good news.

She got to see a sonogram of hers and Josiah's unborn child.

Or, rather, children. Maryssa was expecting identical twin girls. Twins ran in her family, so it didn't really surprise her that much. Each of her two sisters and all three of her sisters-in-law had at least one set of either kind.

Josiah is going to freak out when he hears this, Maryssa thought. Brandon, however would be thrilled. He's always wanted a little sister. Now, he's going to get two!

Josiah was in town, selling his catch of shrimp at the local fisherman's market. It was something he enjoyed doing, and the extra money didn't hurt. Josiah often came home with large stacks of cash, because restaurants were his primary customers. He had told Maryssa once that being a shrimper paid almost as much per month as his salary for being the Chairman of the Committee.

He was a shrewd investor as well. He had wisely sold everything when he was planning his "death" and had a net worth of nearly four million dollars. He'd transfered it to a financial firm in Jackson under his current name. He reinvested it in local companies and lived off what he made shrimping.

Maryssa couldn't wait to tell him about the babies. She knew something wasn't right when she started showing at three months. Now, nearly seven months into her pregnancy, she looked like she was going to give birth at any second, instead of seven and a half weeks from now.

She heard Josiah coming up the steps of the house. As he opened the door, she noticed he looked tired. No matter how tired he was, though, early the next morning he was out again on his boat to start all over again.

"Ahh, Maryssa, my sweet," he said as he kissed her cheek; "how did your appointment go? The baby is healthy, right?"

"Yes, Josiah," Maryssa said. "But I have something to show you, and I think you better sit down for this one."

"Is it bad, what do you have to tell me?"

"No, darling," said Maryssa, "it's all good." She handed him the pictures from her ultrasound.

"Two babies?" Josiah asked. "I'm not seeing things, there are two babies in these pictures?"

"Yes, Josiah," she said. "Identical twin girls."

"Wow, Maryssa!" Josiah exclaimed. "Twin daughters! No wonder you've gotten so big... you've got two babies in there!"

"I told you that twins ran in my family," Maryssa said. "So I wasn't really surprised."

"I can't wait to meet them," Josiah said, hugging Maryssa. "Just a few more weeks now."

"I'd like to name one of them after your sister," Maryssa said.

"I think she'd be honored, if she could understand what that meant," Josiah said sadly. His sister, Joanna, was in poor health and had no idea where she was or who she was because of the Alzheimer's disease that she suffered with for nearly twenty years.

"So, we have Joanna," Josiah said. "What about the other little girl? What shall we call her?"

"I had a friend in the Capitol Sector named Jenna," Maryssa said. "She died shortly before we met. She was kind of like an older sister to me when I first arrived there when I was nineteen."

"I like that name," Josiah said. "Joanna and Jenna. Perfect, don't you agree?"

Maryssa leaned up against Josiah, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Yes, my dearest," she said; "Perfect names. Beautiful, perfect names," she sighed.

"And they'll be just as beautiful as their mama, I know they will," Josiah said.

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Jayme had a doctor's appointment a few weeks after the last time he'd heard from Neil. The divorce was getting nasty, and Neil's silence was expected. Jayme resigned herself to the fact that she might not hear from him for a while.

She waited nervously in the examining room for the doctor to come in and do the first prenatal exam. Jayme had been told that she was about five weeks along when she came to the doctor to get a pregnancy test done.

Now, a month and a half later, she was back. It was almost the end of the first trimester and Jayme had been taking good care of herself. She stayed close to home. The only person who knew about the baby was her mother. Mrs. Crist wasn't happy that Jayme was pregnant without the benefit of marriage, but there was really nothing she could do about it now. Jayme told her mother that the child's father had died before she had a chance to tell him about the pregnancy.

Jayme had no idea how much truth there was to her lie.

The doctor came in at that moment, interrupting Jayme's thoughts.

"How have you been feeling, Jayme," she asked. "No morning sickness or anything?"

"No, Dr. Douglas. No morning sickness," Jayme said. "Not like with Jayden."

"Let's check things out," said Dr. Douglas as she sat at the end of the examining table and began her examination. "Looks like everything's normal here," she said when she was through. "You're about twelve weeks along or so. I'm still going to stay with the November 19th due date."

Jayme smiled to herself. November nineteenth was Neil's birthday. She couldn't wait to tell him!

"Keep taking the prenatal vitamins and watching your diet," Dr. Douglas said. "Come back and see me in a month. Will you be bringing the baby's father to your appointments at some point?"

"No," Jayme said sadly. "He passed away shortly before I learned I was pregnant."

"I'm sorry, dear," said Dr. Douglas. "I know that's hard. I'm glad you're not with Jayden's father anymore."

"Me, too," Jayme said. "This baby's father was a wonderful, caring man. I miss him everyday. But I'll have a small part of him to remember him by."

"I can recommend grief counseling if you think it will help," the doctor said.

"Let me think about it," said Jayme. "I have my family, and they've been a great help to me."

"Okay, Jayme," Dr. Douglas said. "See you in four weeks."

After Jayme made her next appointment, she went to her car and called Neil's secure phone. Her number wouldn't show up on the display, and if he didn't answer, she wouldn't leave a message. He'd get back to her when he could.

The phone rang and rang, but Neil didn't pick up. Jayme hung up her phone. Then she drove home.

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At about that same time, Neil's phone rang on the bedside table. After four rings, it stopped.

On the bed next to where the phone was, lay the corpse of Neil Hope. He had been dead for a month. No one knew where he was, so no one thought to look for him. The room smelled of death, and because the window was open, decomposition took place faster than it would have had he been in an enclosed room.

Next to the body lay the cedar box Neil had dug up two weeks before his death. His arm had been resting on it, but fell to the bed as his body decomposed.

By the time someone found him, it would not be a pretty sight.

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Part 3--

Plans were firming up for the rally in Austin that was to take place in less than two weeks. The band was excited to get back on the road and do rallies again. David was excited to see his home there, but sad that Jordan and the girls would be unable to accompany him. Jordan hadn't been cleared for travel by her doctors, so she and the twins would stay home in Chicagoland.

Morubs was coordinating security for the rally, but he, himself would not be going. His job was to provide protection for Jordan, the twins, and Julia.

This pissed Julia off. She wanted to do security in Austin, but like for the rally in the Chicago Sector, Morbus only wanted those who were over eighteen. Julia wouldn't be seventeen for another month or so.

In fact, there were no females doing security in Austin. The five female Black Ops team members would stay in Chicagoland. For anyone who would underestimate this team of assassins because of their gender, they had a surprise waiting for them. When Rebekah finished her training and officially joined the team, they had five of the best trained female killers in the country. Not even the New Government had as many highly trained women who could kill with accuracy like the female Black Ops members on the compound could.

Meanwhile, Jordan was coordinating publicity, sending out press releases, and working from home to make sure that people in Austin knew about the rally. At last count, there were nearly a quarter of a million people expected to attend, with at least that many in overflow in other cities where the rally would be broadcast over a secure internet connection. Between that and her rambunctious two year olds, life was getting back to normal for her.

Shortly before David left for Austin, he and Jordan learned that the surrogate carrying their third child had been hospitalized and would remain on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. She was also carrying two babies, and not one like everyone thought. Both babies were male, fraternal twins like Niki and Kimber.

One, they knew, would be named Samuel, after David's late paternal grandfather. Jordan wanted to name the other one John after her oldest brother. David was agreeable to that. They had yet to think of middle names for either of them.

"Do they have to have middle names?" Jordan asked. "None of us had one until we were confirmed when we reached junior high. All my brothers had Michael, and I got Michelle. That's a Catholic thing, though. You might have other ideas, David."

"Not really," David said. "My middle name is Michael, too, don't forget, so we could use that if you want. We could look up Hebrew names on the internet."

"I really don't want to think about it right now," Jordan said. "Let's get this rally business out of the way first."

"Okay, my angel," David said, chuckling softly. "Have I told you that you do a great job with coordinating the publicity and stuff lately? Because if I haven't, then I am now. After this confict is finally over, you should open your own PR firm and do what you do for others."

"I have thought about it," said Jordan. "But what I really want to do is finish work on my Masters. I wonder if I could just pick up where I left off seventeen years ago?"

"You do have the social networking thing down, and that's been huge for years now," David said. "How close were you to finishing your Masters?"

"I was only a year into it when Jacob was 'killed' and I was thrown in prison," said Jordan. "I'm sure things in public relations has changed dramatically in the last few years."

"No doubt," David said. "But it seems you've kept up with it since you escaped from prison twelve years ago."

"I read everything I get my hands on," Jordan said. "And that's beyond the PR journals I get here at the house."

"Well, you do a great job," David said. "We should have had you doing our publicity when we were still touring."

"Maybe I'll do it after this is all over and you guys start touring again," Jordan said. "I expect to have to compete for the job just like everyone else and not get it because I'm married to the band's vocalist."

"Besides me, I know of three other guys who would give it to you based on your previous work," David said. "There would be NO other applicants for the job. We have the best PR person already."

Jordan blushed. "Talker..." she said.

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In Austin, there were people in place who were to make sure that the Disturbed Ones rally didn't succeed as planned.

They weren't nearly as well trained as the Black Ops squad that would be there. Officially, the Black Ops squad didn't exist. To the New Government gunmen, the security at the rally were a ragtag team of shooters. They were overconfident and cocky, and they let everyone know it.

"Disturbed Ones are goin' down!" several of them said in a local Austin watering hole one night about a week before the rally.

The owner of the bar was an old friend of David Draiman's, and he secretly took pictures of the fifteen strangers who occupied four booths in his establishment. The strangers didn't know it, but Austin was definitely a Disturbed Ones town.

After he got his pictures, he asked the bouncer, a four hundred pound Cajun named Benard, to ask the strangers to leave. They were now drunk and disorderly. "Beat them up if you have to Benny, but I want 'em outta here."

"Yes, suh," Benard said.

One of the strangers saw the massive man amble over their way, and thought he could take him on. "You gonna kick us out, fatso?" he said beligerently.

"Not unless you leave right now," Benard said.

"What if'n we don't?"

"Let me give ya a choice," Benard said. "You either leave, or I call the law."

"Okay, okay, we're leavin'," the leader of the group said. "But I hope you don't expect a tip."

"No I don't, but I'll give you one," Benard said. "Don't fuck around in Austin with all that anti-Disturbed Ones bullshit. You might'n find yourselves outnumbered."

"Like we're afraid of you..." the group leader said.

"It ain't me you need t'be afraid of, Capt'n."

The group left quietly, staggering their way out the door and into the night. Once outside, they ran into a young woman about eighteen, nineteen years old.

"Hey, darlin' wanna see some action?" one of the strangers called out.

"Not with you guys I don't," she shot back.

Soon the group surrounded her, and she knew that she was in trouble. Or at least, that's what she wanted these morons to think.

"Don'tcha wanna fuck us, baby?"

"All of you?!"

"We'll take turns. Promise."

"Well, I have some friends who might wanna play along."

"Really?" one of the group said. "Where they be?"

"Ladies..." the woman called.

Soon, a group of four ladies surrounded the pack of males surrounding the woman in the middle of the throng. All had guns drawn and pointed at the group. The fifth woman made her way out of the group of men and drew her weapon as well.

"Holy fuck! We didn't know you was cops!"

"We aren't cops," the woman they originally met said. "But we could be your worst nightmare if you fuck with us."

"Okay, okay... we're leavin'! Shit, didn't know the women in this town were fuckin armed!"

After the men had left, Julia said,

"What a bunch of morons! Talkin' shit about Disturbed Ones like that!"

"I'm pretty sure they're the New Government security detail sent to kill the members of the band and the speakers for the rally," Kylee replied.

"I loved the looks on their faces when they saw they were surrounded by gun toting females," said Susie.

"You did a great job as bait, Rebekah!" Vixen said. "Think we scared them enough?"

"Fuck yeah!" Rebekah said. "The looks on their faces went from certain to get a gang bang to what the fuck in a hurry!"

"Let's get home," Julia said. "We can tell Morbus we made contact and were successful. The guys should have no trouble with those asswipes. They'll be easy to take out if they start their shit again."

Just then, a car with Ryan Summers at the wheel pulled up. He looked at Julia and her companions, winked, and said,

"You ladies need a ride to catch a jet? Hop on in!"

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