Scorched Earth Policy, Part 9

9 – New Orleans Is Sinking Shan wondered how long he could sit here before he could think up an excuse to bust in on Z. She’d hate him for it, but damn it, he just could never reconcile the difference between who she appeared to be and who she actually was. She looked like a kind of average to slightly small woman; in reality, she was more gonzo and hard core violent than any hockey player he had ever met. It was hard to reconcile the two things. His head knew she didn’t need his help ever, but his head was basically broken, so he could expect no help from it at all. But that worked in his favor, right? She’d probably forgive him. He could blame a ton of shit on his brain injury. Shan was searching his pockets for gum when he glanced up and realized...

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Scorched Earth Policy, Part 8

8 – All Come True Besides the ka-bar, she was carrying another weapon: the electronic equivalent of a skeleton key. Only the manager was supposed to have it, but hey, it was a brave new world, was it not? Who was to say she couldn’t be the manager? Okay, so she was as likely to be a manager as a room service tray. But this was all theoretical. No one who looked at her had paid a single bit of attention to her: she was a woman with short hair and a loose, drab wardrobe, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses. She wasn’t particularly attractive, startling, or memorable. She might as well have been wallpaper. All part of the plan, of course. She was nobody, and no one ever remembered a nobody. The hall was empty as she approached, and she hoped that it stayed...

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