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Boris chuckled as Cynthia called Jimmy a crook. “He is most certainly that, but he’s a more honest crook than some of the other men out there. So long as you pay him well enough.” As they rode up to the compound’s gate, Boris saw…. them. At least, he thought it was them. They looked like a stereotypical them… A cross between secret agents and mobsters. The kind of people that walk into your prison cell and tell you that they have the power to lock you up for a very long time, the same kind of people who put a bullet in the skull of your friends, the people who…. Cynthia distracted Boris from his line of thought and he conscious released his grip on the handlebars of the motorcycle, which he’d been gripping so hard that his calloused hands hurt slightly. Nodding in agreement, Boris revved the motorcycle and drove out of the compound’s gate, worried. What if they had actually come for Jimmy? Boris decided that Jimmy was a big enough boy to handle his own issues. The man did have what was, in essence, his own private army after all. Besides, he had Cynthia to worry about, he didn’t want to risk bringing her into a firefight when all of the training she’d had amounted to the afternoon session that they’d just had together.
Boris made a mental note that tomorrow he’d teach her about what to do if they ever ended up in a firefight and the basics of firing a gun. Throughout the drive home he proceeded to again throw out every tail evasion manoeuvre he threw, more as a force of habit by this point than out of any sense that it was working. Eventually arriving back at the flat, he stored the bike and they made their way up to the apartment. Putting the book in the safe, he locked everything up. “I’m going to hit the sack, there’s not much for us to stay up for.” Boris grabbed the shotgun and took up the same position as the night before, preparing to sleep in the same state of alertness as the night before. Given that they had seen them today… Boris could feel a storm brewing, and he knew he had to be ready for when it hit.
Boris made a mental note that tomorrow he’d teach her about what to do if they ever ended up in a firefight and the basics of firing a gun. Throughout the drive home he proceeded to again throw out every tail evasion manoeuvre he threw, more as a force of habit by this point than out of any sense that it was working. Eventually arriving back at the flat, he stored the bike and they made their way up to the apartment. Putting the book in the safe, he locked everything up. “I’m going to hit the sack, there’s not much for us to stay up for.” Boris grabbed the shotgun and took up the same position as the night before, preparing to sleep in the same state of alertness as the night before. Given that they had seen them today… Boris could feel a storm brewing, and he knew he had to be ready for when it hit.