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Chapter or Story
Chapter 12
For as far back as I can remember, I have been a libertarian. You don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you has basically been the structure of my life. It's how you act within the Centre-- try and stay out of people's crosshairs unless you can crush them without a problem.
The government. Ugg.
Well, at least Catherine was patriotic, I reason with myself. Deciding to let the state handle problems instead of simply seizing power-- she was a Constitutional framer's wet dream.
Jarod is nodding his approval-- you'd think the boy would learn to avoid the government, considering how many laws he breaks on each of his pretends. Morganna is looking like someone just told her that Raines is fantastic in bed.
"You're shitting me." I agree silently. That pretty much sums it up. Let the government into Centre affairs-- like that'll happen anytime soon. Let me know when it does, so I can come into work in a toga and go around kissing everyone before offering them a doogie. Government. Yeah, right.
"I'm serious. That's what Catie would have wanted. It's up to you, of course, but that's what she would want. It would ensure the least possible cassualties."
Okay, so he does have a point there. But who says cassualties are neccessarily a bad thing? I know I sure as fuck wouldn't lose any sleep if Willie was to be accidentally shot repeatedly after being accidentally hit over the head with a led pipe and accidentally dragged twelve miles by a mini-van full of screaming soccer brats eating McDonalds.
Accidentally, of course.
"That's the first plan that actually makes sense," Jarod whispers softly, and Parker glares at him. "It is!" He persists. "No one would get hurt, or if they were it would all be minimal. We could take down the Triumvirate and the Centre in one fell swoop; with all the men the CIA would provide for us-"
"You're thinking of the television CIA. They're great. The real CIA, however... They're grossly lacking supplies," I remind them all. "Their budget is what I make in a week; they couldn't handle something like this."
"So the FBI, the NSA-- we'd find someone who could take care of us, and I'll go in and tell my life story."
SMACK! Parker's hand makes contact with the back of Jarod's head, and I grin. Love that sound. Love that woman.
"You really are dumber than a sack of hair, aren't you? Every government agency you've ever been in has it out for you. You came, you fucked around a bit, and then you left them with a hogtide confessed killer, who could always claim coercion because you had him hanging over a pit of acid until he gave in and told you he'd killed or raped or framed someone. If you step foot inside a government agency headquarters, you'll be bound and frisked away to the nearest holding cell." She rolls her eyes. "God, you really don't have any brains at all, do you Wonderboy."
I smirk and Jarod glares at her. "Maybe not. But you're the one who's never been able to catch me; who's lacking in brains more? The dumb or the dumber." Uh oh.
After prying Parker off of Jarod, and comiting the color his face has turned to memory (I always thought that ocean blue would be a nice paint for my kitchen), we are all considerably calmer. Parker glares at Jarod, then looks at me.
"What about you?"
"Me? Illegal immigrant, remember? The Centre never bothered to have me registered." She sighs and looks at Hunter. He shakes his head.
"I don't know half of what's gone on while I've been gone; thirty years is a lot of conspiracy to miss out on." Well, Hunty's out. So that just leaves...
"No. Absolutely possotively fucking not." I laugh.
"Come on-"
"No."
"You're the-"
"NO."
Jarod rolls his eyes. "You're the only one who can do it."
Silence.
"I don't wanna do it. I hate those goddamned government agencies-- do you have any idea how much effort and time becoming a double agent will demand? A lot." Jarod sighs and I pat her on the back.
"Give it a shot, Kela. Worse comes to worse, I'll just go in and shoot your handler, and you'll walk out clean." Jarod sputters on his drink.
"NO KILLING!" I force a pout, and Mikela laughs delightedly. Good-- she needs a laugh.
"Well go and spoil ALL my fun, why don't you Wonderboy!" I take a sip of my drink and form soothing circles on Mikela's back. "Just try it. I'll even come with you for moral support," she gives me a warry eye. "We have to at least try, Kela. And Wonderboy (I'll say this quietly) has a point. How long do you think it'll take for someone to decide our rule is getting in their way and use some disgruntled sweepers to take us down? We can take them all out in one fell swoop."
Silence.
"Fine," she grumbles. "I'll do it." Wonderboy lets out a cheer, Hunter and I smile at her. She raises a hand. "But this is worth major salvation points." Glaring up at the ceiling, she continues. "You hear me you big bastard? I want a choice cloud when I get up there, and St. Peter bowing down as I show up." She sits back with a angry sigh.
Yep, Catherine was one special lady to make someone like Kela. But I don't think I'll mention that to Parker right now. I doubt she'd be very grateful in this state of mind.
