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Chapter -18-

Preparing for Battle

February 4, 2024 - 4am EST Coast Guard Cutter, Atlantic Ocean ...

** Greg Watson stepped off the US Marine helicopter** and onto the deck of a Coastguard Cutter helipad. He was greeted by two men wearing earphones overtop their ballcaps, with identification vests. The escort walked him from the Marine helicopter to the hatch door leading into the ship. He stopped at the door and watched as they headed back to the chopper to begin refueling procedures.

Watson took off his own set of headphones, removed his identifier jacket and handed it to a guardsman.

A female officer shifted her cover to beneath her arm and reached for his hand with her free one. They shook then she said, "Agent Watson, follow me. Welcome aboard the," she continued, mentioning the name of the ship and other various information but Watson tuned her out and fell into step behind her. His mind wondered, running over the dossier of each supernatural he knew he'd meet.

She led him up to the bridge where he exchanged a handshake with the captain. They traded brief pleasantries then the officer, at the request of her captain, led Watson back off the bridge and back through the ship.

"...As you can imagine, sir, we've been working with this strange chop. Seems to defy weather. If you need Dramamine or anything, just tell me. I understand you wanted to meet our 'guests' immediately. As per the request you made before leaving shore, we've released the entire group from detention and they've been free to roam about the ship. However, we haven't let them return to their yacht because we're unsure if it's safe due to the extreme turbulence of the ocean. Instead, we'll be having another ship tow their yacht to safety. Oh, and sir, I've been meaning to ask - are the rumors true? Are the waves much worse on the coast?"

Watson nodded. "What you've got going on out here is pretty intense. But Africa, America, even as far down as Brazil ... they're getting absolutely hammered. It's been consistent. Since yesterday and the intensity hasn't changed. No one seems to have an answer as to what's causing it. But I'm here to tell you that those people you pulled off the yacht - they're the solution."

"I understand, sir."

Greg reached for her wrist and turned the officer to face him. "Do you, now? What is it that you think you understand," his eyes dropped to her rank then lifted to her gaze, once more, adding, "Lieutenant Commander?" He released her forearm. "I tell you that those people are going to stop the freak wave storm and you say you understand. Now, I have to be frank, I don't quite see how you can understand what I just told you with such a casual tone."

"Sir?" She eyed him for a moment then lifted her brows. "Have you met them?"

"Of course I have."

She furrowed her brows then asked, "Permission to speak frankly, Agent? ...Yes, well ... I've seen what they can do. They have abilities like something out of a movie. They've been entertaining the crew with what they can do. And trust me, sir, from what I've seen ... this isn't some sort of parlor trick or street magic. Sir."

"Alright, well ... they're not supposed to do that. How many of the crew knows?"

She eyed him again then simply said, "All of them."

"Jesus. Their kind aren't supposed to..."

"Sir! With all due respect, there was an attack yesterday evening. A man, who could bend the will of others, boarded our ship. No one could fight him. He was able to walk freely as he pleased without a word. To see him was to do as he told you. One of our enlisted men, in a stroke of brilliance, put a makeshift blindfold over his face and began firing at the enemy blindly. Five other crewmembers followed suit until our prisoners freed themselves from the brig and attacked the boarding party. In particular, a woman with biologically real foxtails and ears was the only one aboard with the ability to ignore the man calling himself Sire. She had to fight him and his entire boarding party alone. Without firearms. She took down all his men and, despite being shot multiple times, beaten, and stabbed, the woman took down his entire party with a sword. Then she dueled the man - Sire. Finally, she somehow managed to cause him to spontaneously combust. These people, sir, have been very honest about their abilities. Then, to top it all off, four more of them appeared out of nowhere and detained a man who seems to be behind the terrorist cell that Sire and his boarding party worked for. Yes, sir, I understand if you say they have the ability to do something seemingly supernatural. I do not appreciate your condescending attitude because you assume I'm ignorant."

Watson stared at her, letting her finish her entire monologue then said, "I work for Homeland Security. I've worked with people like this before. And the terrorist cell you mentioned ... their leader appears to be responsible for the waves. Take me to see the people from the yacht, and their friends. Then I would like to see the prisoner. Is one of them a young looking girl named Karla Howard? And have you observed who has leadership over the group?"

"Aye, sir. Miss Howard, herself, appears to be the leader of the group. However, there is no chain of Command, sir."

Watson tilted his head. "Explain."

The woman shifted her cover to her other hand then replaced it upon her head. "Miss Howard doesn't give orders but she has the most influence on the rest, and seems to be in control of the group without any direct demand for them to acknowledge her authority. They simply respect her leadership."

"I see. What else do you know about her?"

"She is ... ornery; playful but smart. Her abilities are quite impressive. She teleported most of the crew during the firefight. By the time we made it back to the aft deck, we watched as the redhead woman, Sinopa Crevan, concluded her duel with the man called Sire. We tried to intervene but no one could attack the combatants. Then, afterwards, she put almost all of us into the galley. I'm told moving twenty-six people made her faint. So it seems she has limits. It could be due to the fact she's pregnant. Please, it would be better if we do an official debriefing in the..."

"Jesus I hope Justus isn't right about her being limited by being knocked up."

"Knocked up? We have a strict zero tolerance on this ship for the 'good ole boy' network. Are we clear, sir? Now, follow me so we can debrief you in the..."

"No. I need to see these people immediately. Take me to them."

"Yes, sir." She began walking again. Watson followed.

They reached a room of makeshift beds where the entire group was gathered. Evan and Patience were asleep together in a sleeping bag in the corner on the deck. Jules Guillot appeared to be asleep in a chair adjacent to the only real bed in the room, where Sinopa was awake and conversing with Karla. Howard's boyfriend, Eric Loupe, was fast asleep in another sleeping bag next to Fox and Topaz Parker. Watson recognized Rufus Darken, who was propped up in the corner, hands in his lap, eyes shut and ankles crossed. There was another sleeping bag at the far end, which he assumed belonged to Reno

Watson saluted the officer. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. I'll take it from here."

"Sir. Morning Chow opens shortly. Maria Roland, sir." She returned the salute then left the room.

Watson shut the door behind her then approached Sinopa and Karla. "Karla Howard. My how things have come full circle. And look, I see Patience Ubysh is here. And Rufus. And Topaz. You've got some good people working for you."

Karla looked back at the agent with a wan smile. "Who says they're working for me?"

"Age and experience. You have an abundance of both."

"I suppose I am the oldest here, aren't I?" Karla smirked and patted Sinopa's wrist then turned fully to Watson and stood up. "You lied to me."

"Did I? That was a few months ago. Remind me."

"How's your gay husband?" Karla put her hands on her hips.

In reply, Watson grinned. "I lied to you." He offered his hand. "Very ... very Special Agent Gregory Watson, United States Paranormal Research and Investigation."

"You got the 'special' part right. Listen, Greg," she said, taking his hand. "I knew you were USPRI," pronouncing the acronym like 'Ospry,' then she shook her head with a wan smile. "And the Coastguard confirmed it for me yesterday afternoon. They said you're a clandestine group under Homeland. Anyway, update your records. Sire was over a thousand years old. Even Lance and Steven didn't know his exact age. Oh, and while you're updating his file, you can mark him down as deceased." She gestured to the kitsune, resting on a cot and smiled. "Sinopa was amazing."

"I'm glad she took him down."

"Also, I think he might have had Falcon working for him. I'm not sure if Falcon somehow was resistive to that bastard's ability. But one down, one to go. Oh, and where's Johann Foster?"

Watson froze and eyed Karla for a moment. "How do you know I spoke to him?"

Karla leaned forward and sniffed. Watson backed up.

The succubus grinned. "That kid uses way too much Drakkar. I'm surrounded by people who don't know how to use deodorant on a boat, and here you come, smelling like a Dra_kkar bomb_." She reached her hand up and patted his cheek. "It's a sort of ... metallic citric-floral thing going on. Where is he?"

"He won't be coming."

Karla narrowed her gaze. "I'm sorry ... are you bringing sand to Falcon's playground? We need it for Evan. Johann can break down any molecular substance. He can make sand from air. We need him."

"Karla, he's been chosen to become the new Justiciar. Justus Loupe is training him."

She groaned softly, so as not to wake up the others. "So how's that shit work, huh? You're asking him stupid little questions like, 'If you could prevent an earthquake in a third world country that would kill forty-thousand, prevent a crash at the local airport that would kill two hundred, or prevent an automobile accident that would kill a close acquaintance of yours, which would you choose and why?' Justus trained the last Justiciar and that guy was a real pain in the ass. I don't need Johann Foster becoming a douchebag. He's a good boy. He has a huge heart. Hell, I took his virginity. Too bad you missed out on my offer back in Africa. I don't need Justus turning that boy into a dick with a chip on his shoulder."

Watson stared at her for a moment for topic-jumping. He sighed, asking, "Have you ever met Justus?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Justus Loupe is a surprisingly open-minded man with a sharp eye for..."

Karla lifted her left hand and put her finger on Watson's lips.

Neither spoke for a moment.

Finally, she asked, "Does he fidget?" She saw the confused expression on Watson's face and rephrased the question. "Does he play with his tie or his cufflinks or pick at his shirt every so often? Eric doesn't do that stuff."

"Actually," Greg trailed off then nodded. "He does. Plays with his cufflinks, things like that."

Karla tilted her head then drew her finger back from Watson's lips and nodded in a somewhat approving manner. "I see. Donovan does it, too. It's this nervous tick he developed after killing people in combat. It bothers him that he's taken lives. It's a rather redeeming quality. It proves he's human, not callous." She waved Reno over.

Nevada got up from the floor and stretched, causing two pops to come from his lower spine. He moved over to the trio, nodded respectfully to Sinopa then nodded to Watson. "Reno Nevada."

Greg put his hand into Reno's and said, "Agent Gregory Watson. I should probably tell you that I've taken the liberty of towing your car. We put it into safekeeping. You'll get it back. We're studying the technology of the frame. The rest is useless to us without you being able to power it. And, hey, we'll wash and wax it for you."

"I want run flat tires, like the kind that goes on the Presidential Limo."

Watson furrowed his brows then smiled. "Do ya' now? That's old technology. Tried and true, sure. And the President likes it because it looks normal but ... we've been testing something way better for over ten years now. It's a type of honeycomb ... anyway, we'll talk about that later. Doesn't matter, anyhow, because you need to get a special license to drive something like vehicle." He turned back to Karla and asked, "What is Mister Nevada's role?"

"He and Evan are running the group. But Evan and Patty are asleep."

"My intel suggests that you're the leader, Karla."

"Oh it's my gang. My team. I assembled them. I'm Nick Fury, but hot, blond, visible, and I have both eyes."

"So, care to explain?"

Karla folded her arms. "But I don't have any military training like Jules. I don't have any police training like Reno. I don't have a code of honor like Sinopa and Evan. This is the best and brightest that's left of supernatural people. Right here in this room. And did you know that Vincent, Reno's brother, is working for us, too? We've got people on the inside. We're going down there tomorrow and we're going to get Rufus' friend back. We're going to evacuate the bystanders whether they like it or not, and we're going to take back every last artifact that Falcon has stolen around the globe. Then we're going to rip his balls off. Figuratively and literally."

Greg nodded. "I'm going with you."

Sinopa looked up from her bed, adjacent to Karla. "With all due respect, Agent Watson-san, you would be in the way without abilities and without having worked with us."

"You're a demigod," Watson murmured. "Why all the negativity and gloom?"

Sinopa shook her head. "My actions, while performed in the name of honor, had a poorly timed consequence. My fourth tail is coming in. It's akin to giving birth. For the next two days, I'm unable to feel my legs or lower back - save the ache of pain. Jules and I cannot participate in this attack against Falcon unless it waits until I've recovered."

Karla looked back up at Watson. "One more thing - she's been stabbed with some sort of knife that was designed to work against deities. We don't know where Sire got it from but we hid it inside of a mirror. The stab wouldn't have killed her by a long shot. But she's in pain when she tenses up, and she needs to tense her body to create fire. She needs time."

Watson sighed. "We're out of time. These waves are coming from Falcon."

"Yeah," Reno murmured. "He blew up some island in order to do some crap to start a lot of drama. It's total bullshit and he needs a foot in his ass. We get that. But Sinopa needs to rest, man. Look, I get it buddy. There are a lot of waves out there. The boat has been rocking all night. I heard the waves are getting bigger by the time they're making landfall. But we need her help if you expect us to babysit you and survive this shitstorm."

"Mister Nevada," Watson shook his head and folded his arms to appear somewhat stern on the issue, "There's flooding. People are dying. The east coast, Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Brazil, Africa, France - it's bad. This asshole needs to be dealt with. The Coast Guard can't even find his underwater fort and they have some of the most advanced technology in the world at their disposal for the sake of Homeland Security. The werewolf remembers how to get there. But that bastard, Falcon, has somehow figured a way to cloak himself. Someone needs to lead an attack. But sending an attack squadron of nuclear powered submarines would be a huge target. If Falcon destroyed them using his supernatural people, we'd have nuclear submarines being destroyed in the Atlantic Ocean. Do you want to consider that consequence?"

"So? They were just a cold war deterrent, anyhow," Reno snapped, keeping his voice soft but his tone firm. "If they can't locate Falcon on a computer because of whatever technology he has, then he isn't an easy target. They can only guess. If nuke subs come out to attack him and get blown up then that's not my problem, pal. I'm a cop that got fired. I throw lightning bolts. Subs aren't my problem. Having a nuke on the bottom of the Atlantic isn't my problem, either."

"A Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine carries twenty-four Trident ballistic missiles, Mister Nevada. Each missile carries several nuclear Multiple Independently-targetable Re-entry Vehicles. That's a lot of broken arrows for Falcon to scoop up. Do you want this man to acquire even one nuke? Let alone that many? All twenty-four missiles means he could attack nearly one hundred targets at one time. Multiply that by twenty subs. Not to mention, the vessles' nuclear propulsion reactor. How about ... instead of America fighting that son of a bitch, you take me down there and we do it quietly. We sneak in and take down Falcon. Once we have him down for the count, the CIA can attack the slush fund he built up using drugs and genetically engineered viruses that he sold on the black market. Doesn't that sound like a better option to you? Because if we don't handle this as soon as possible, America will be forced to fight him with what they have. This cannot wait."

Jules opened his eyes and stared up at Watson. Careful not to speak in too deep of an accent for them to understand, he said, "Dun' be a dick. SSBN subs can't dive beyond a thousand feet. Deepest American sub is the Seawolf class at two thousand feet. And there's only three and god only knows if this country has decommissioned them by now. Oh and those twenty subs you mentioned? Eighteen. Stop fluffing the figures. Anyways, unless you got one of those deep-submergence vehicles, like one of those Chinese things that went to the bottom of the Mariana Trench ... forget it."

"It wasn't that deep. I've been there, Mister Guillot," Watson replied with a smirk. "Have you?"

"Doesn't matter now," Jules quipped, trying to keep his voice down. "The rules have changed. Did you hear? Don't you know what's causing these waves? Oh, wait, you don't know what'cher talking about son. Reno, m'self, and a CGIS Investigator that Karla liked ... the three of us talked to the commanding officer from the island that was leveled in the Atlantic. Guess what? That guy was full of great information, monsieur. Falcon's drilling into the side of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. He's not easily accessible anymore. Try almost three miles down. So stop talking 'nuclear subs' like some sort'a dumbass politician. Did you even pay attention to the debriefing?"

Watson sighed. "No, I came to see you first. My mistake. You're right. That depth is beyond attackable reach. What did the man you've captured have to say?"

Reno took over, again. "There are submarines operated by that nut-job. They deal with import, export, resource drilling, and exotic food transport for the elite wealthy from that city." Reno took out his notepad and flipped to the third page. "The seven subs are named, Pangaea, Pannotia, Rodinia, Columbia-Nuna, Kenorland, Ur, and the flagship, Vaalbara. He also has submarines for protection, which remain docked unless the dome comes under attack. Those are named after some sort of non-existent oceans. Tethy's Ocean. Then there's Iapetus Ocean, Paleo-Pacific, Panafrican Ocean, Panthalassic, and Shigatze. I have no idea where these names are coming from." Reno's eyes fell back to the paper. "Finally, we got ... Valais Ocean, Piemont-Liguria and Meliata Ocean attack sub. I'm not even sure I spelled these correctly. Look, this guy is obviously either jerking our chain or he's got a pretty good handle on Falcon's submerged fleet operations. He won't tell me his rank. We found him on the bridge of an old World War Two American Carrier that broke its back over an island-turned-atoll south of here. And who knows where Falcon got the money to create submarines that can withstand that depth, let alone what shipyard he used to build them, unless he has one of those in that damned dome thing. Last but not least, he has some sort of transponder that would lead him back to dome's new location. We're directly above it, now. That's why we're so far out here. The stupid gadget crapped out when we got above the dome. Must be a safety feature or something."

"What was the suspect doing on that old carrier?" asked Greg.

Jules chimed back in. "He was in charge of blowing up the whole goddamn island so that it would stay under the ocean. Last I seen, it was turned into a sandbar just beneath the surface of the water. Everyone else here was briefed. We're taking this seriously. Are you, agent?"

Watson withdrew a PDA and started thumb-texting notes. "Great. I'll summon Madame Blavatsky and tell her we found Lemuria since it was apparently just created today. Look, gentlemen, we're all on the same team here. Rufus and Topaz can vouch for me. This guy is doing something that is causing both sides of the Atlantic Ocean to get pounded. People are dying. We need to find a way down there and stop him. We don't have time to build an attack sub that can handle that kind of depth. So we either have to commandeer one of his or come up with a more creative solution."

"Whatever," Reno murmured. "The dude is trying to find Atlantis. This is straight from the guy I cracked, and it didn't even take very much electro-shock therapy to get him talking, either."

"Jesus."

Reno shrugged. "I was a cop. I used to get paid to be a dick, and to interrogate people. Whatever. I know my role, so I owned it. Anyway, Falcon is looking for some sort of Atlantis-like bullshit city. He's just obsessed. He needs a kick in the ass. Not from an American attack sub, or from depth charges, or from you. He needs a real kick in the ass. From this team right here."

Watson looked up from his PDA. "Atlantis? I thought that myth was supposed to be in the Aegean Sea? Now it's in the Atlantic again? I can never keep up."

"First of all," Karla said, "Lemuria wasn't in the Atlantic. Second of all, Atlantis ... in front of the Pillars of Hercules. That's where we are. Sort of. I mean, I know we're a little south of that but ... there's a mountain range under us and some crazy guy has drilled into it and is hiding his little bubble house in there. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"I don't know, Karla. Does it?"

She smirked at the agent. "The Mayans called it Mu. The Greeks called it Atlantis. Who gives a shit what it's really called? There's something down there and Falcon wants it. You know what that tells me?"

"That he needs to be stopped," Watson concluded.

Fox Parker looked up with a yawn and said, "No offense, man, but we don't exactly need your help. Take this however you want, but, back in August of 2011, I was a little kid. I was like ... eight or nine. I was still learning martial arts styles like Capoeira and Judo. The beginner stuff. I mean really harmless compared to now."

"What's the point, Fox?"

"My sister and I were put into position with the help of our father and stole artifacts from you to keep them from winding up in Falcon's hands."

"Fuck you, Parker. It was you that did the grab, and that device would have kept my girlfriend alive, you little shit."

Fox smirked. "We were kids doing what we were told. My point is, you're not exactly the cleverest person out there so far as I'm concerned. Even now, you had to hire Topaz and beg Rufus to keep you alive like some sort of bodyguard. You don't belong down there. You belong up here, so that when we finish the job and come home, you keep our butts out of hot water with the Government. You really helped us yesterday when you called the Coast Guard, told them we're the good guys, then flew out here. Just ... think first then look, and then leap. You'll live longer buddy. Don't come with us, you'll only slow us down." Fox rolled back over and closed his eyes.

Watson glowered at the boy but didn't say anything.

Reno rubbed his bald forehead then looked back at Sinopa. "How're you feeling?"

"Quite helpless, Reno-san. I wish I could thank Tamamo-sama for saving your lives. But I cannot contact her right now. I fear she is ... mm, the best way to describe it for you is ... that she may be in court."

"That sucks." Reno turned back to Watson and folded his arms. "This guy is causing a shit-storm under our feet. He's causing people to die and it's still going on. You're right. We have to stop him, but we don't need any dead weight." He glanced at Jules and added, "I'm sorry man. You two are sitting this one out. It's our choice and I'm going. I know Rufus will go. And I know Karla will want to go, which means Eric will go. I know Evan will go."

Watson sighed. "I understand that Sinopa is benched. But..."

Reno held his hands up and shook his head. "Listen, pal, if you wanna go - it'd be your funeral. But I'd prefer you coordinate instead. Or better yet, you can man the driver seat of the getaway vehicle. If we don't come back, Sinopa will need your help to roast that place like an underwater microwave, man. So, no offense, but you're benched, too."

"I agree," Karla said. "Agent, you can stay up here with your husband."

"Give me a break."

"No," Karla hissed in reply. "Fibber pants. We leave in the morning. Go talk to the guy we put in the brig if you like."

"Karla, I was told if I came up against you that you would try to seduce me. So I told you I'm not interested in women, that way you wouldn't waste your time or mine. And you guys need someone with experience in covert operations."

The succubus put her hand up, palm towards Greg. "We're not playing this game, Agent. You stay. We're the professionals. You can run logistics or communication or something. You're staying. We're going."

"What about Patience Ubysh?"

Karla and Reno exchanged glances. The succubus frowned then looked towards Evan and Patty. She turned back to Watson and pursed her lips in thought. "I haven't yet decided. We leave in the morning. Now. We all need to get some sleep. NyQuil for all. Agent Watson, go speak to the man in the brig if you like. Have a good night."

"Karla, just consider..."

She waved a hand. Her palm glowed in a soft pink coloration and Watson disappeared. With a sigh, she turned to Reno and shrugged. "I've been part of people dying before. I was the problem. I was the bad guy, even if I didn't mean to be. It's time I'm apart of the solution. Are you sure you're okay with leaving in the morning?"

Reno glanced back at Sinopa. "How long before the new tail breaches?"

"Too long."

"I'm in investigator, miss Crevan - Sinopa. I know Americans prefer short and to the point, but I like details. Can you guesstimate?"

The kitsune shook her head. "Iie. It is impossible to tell when it will start. However, once it does, it will take two days for me to recover. It is exhausting. I would only be holding you back."

Reno nodded in a confirming way towards Karla and announced, "That clenches it. We can't wait for this thing to happen to her, then add two more days for her to feel better. The world needs us now, not in a week. It's time for Plan-B - we fight the bad guys face to face. We need to get some sleep and get started in the morning."

"Reno-san, how do you propose to go to the bottom of the ocean?"

Nevada rubbed his chin. "It seems we've used up our one-time divine intervention card today. Else I would have suggested that your buddy, Tamamo, get us down there. I guess we tell Watson to call the President and send us something awesome."

Evan sat up on an elbow with a yawn. "We call Johann. He might not be here, because he'd have come in and talked about stuff when Watson appeared. But that doesn't mean we can't fly him out here. I'll create a glass bathysphere. He'll remove the water from around us and change it to air and we'll go straight to the bottom. Eric can hide it in the shadows. Karla, you'll teleport pressurized air, or, Reno, you can power a pump that can run pressurized air from the surface and ... just... just..."

Reno and Karla tilted their heads and looked over at Evan, who rolled over, spooning up against Patience's backside. "Evan?" she asked. He didn't reply. Karla turned back to Reno and blinked. "Did he say all that in his sleep?"

"We'll get up in the morning and come up with an idea that everyone agrees on. For now, get some sleep." Reno stood up and walked out of the room. He saw Watson in the hall and eyed the man for a minute. "I thought you were going up to talk to the guy in the brig."

"He's asleep. What have you guys decided?"

"We're calling Johann in the morning. In fact, if you know how to reach him, get him flown out here right now. He may not be able to join us for one reason or another but ... he can definitely help us get straight to the bottom of the ocean by using his ability to displace the water. So go up top and start making some calls."

Greg and Reno locked their gaze momentarily then Watson nodded. "Very well. I'll have him out here tomorrow afternoon."

Nevada nodded then headed back into the room and closed the door behind himself. "Okay. Johann will be here tomorrow. We'll do whatever it takes, right gang?"

"Ayup," Jules murmured. "You guys need to get some rest before you go doing this craziness. Y'know," he trailed off and turned to Sinopa then said, "You thought I was going to be involved in this somehow. You said you had a dream I'd save the world. Turns out, you 'n I are just going to be cheerleaders, m'amour."

"Hai. Jules, the fourth tail is rather close. And where I've been stabbed, the stitches are starting to itch. Could we go to the sickbay, now?" Sinopa glanced over at the succubus. "Also, Karla, no matter what, you cannot let anything happen to the child within you. And please, keep my son and daughter safe. But I am honored that you will pick up where I left off from earlier today. I will say a prayer for your victory."

Karla offered a wan smile. "That's it then. Next up is the climatic finale of our so-called story. The big finish. And we're going to make it a good one because you know how fond I am of a good climax."

X

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Next chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/672354