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Post by kansasterri on Mar 3, 2022 13:43:15 GMT -6
Silly woman. Life is too short to play games
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Post by kaijafon on Mar 3, 2022 19:24:00 GMT -6
I don't think she is his daughter but I do think she is NOT a good person.
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Post by solo on Mar 3, 2022 21:30:34 GMT -6
I don't think she is his daughter but I do think she is NOT a good person. You responded to one of my stories!!! I am a happy person; my life if now complete! I am not worthy!
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Post by solo on Mar 4, 2022 10:41:23 GMT -6
CHAPTER 10
Just great! He thought to himself. I wonder how much of a factor she is going to be. Does she really know me from before? We still have several months of winter up here; I hope she planned well, because her decisions are her decisions. I can’t be held responsible.
He carefully worked his way through some small drifts and carefully stepped across areas where the snow was thinner. He purposely tried to twist his snow shoes with each step but each step still left a clear path of his passing. If she tried to follow, it wouldn’t be that hard. So he decided to go the long route back to his base camp and worked through thickets and up running creek beds, exiting them several times. He couldn’t totally erase his passing, but he could add so many false trails that while it wouldn’t be impossible to find, him, but it would be improbable.
He worked to clear his mind of her and their interaction. When he meant no factor, he meant it. For the most part. There was the damsel in distress angle, but again, she decided to come out here and she wasn’t exactly a damsel.
After trekking most of the afternoon, he eventually came to the area around his base camp. He smiled as he saw the low banks around the small stream he had come to. This was a popular game watering point and the snow as all mashed and mixed up. And there was a game trail that lead up the hill and around an outcropping from his shelter. The snow was pretty chewed up on this trail so he was pretty sure his passing on it would be concealed and his departure from it would go unnoticed.
He slipped between two rock outcroppings that sort of formed a narrow canyon near the top of the hill. He had found it by accident so he knew this opening was hidden. The canyon space was no more than three feet wide here at the opening, but it soon turn almost 90 degrees to the right and opened up to around six feet wide and then abruptly ended. The rock face at the end sloped sharply away from the rock walls. The “room” at the end of the entryway was about a six by five square.
Crafted a frame in the dimensions to fit the square feet of the room and give him standing room. He filled in the frame with cross tied saplings and covered all of this with overlapping fir boughs. The way it sat on the slope and the back and with the help of some well-placed homemade poles he had an effective roof. The 90 degree angled entryway gave him max protection from the wind and he had crafted door, also from surround woods. It was a very integrated, natural bush craft shelter solution.
The back wall and outer rock wall on the left did not come together in nature flush, 90 degree junction. This provided a space for a small fireplace that he built up with local stones and provide him the capability to warm the room and cook as needed, while what little smoke was produced dissipated through the rocks above.
Another feature he didn’t realize until later was that at the juncture of the right wall and the back wall, there was a small spring. He allowed that is probably cut this path between the rocks in an earlier time. He was high enough that the spring snow melt off would not cause any problems.
And he had figured a way to maintain his preferred sleeping system, his hammock. On one of his trips back to civilization, he had gone to REI and purchased heavy duty cam. With these he was able to anchor in at various point on the opposing rock faces and he was able to stretch his hammock diagonally with the fire exposure for heat along one of the long sides. Each morning, he would stow his hammock, so that he could use the room for other purposes.
Over the months, he had undertaken small projects to improve, slightly his experience each time. He had already crafted a comfortable Adirondack style chair and a small work/dining table. It was a small, cozy space, but he was comfortable here. He would be very remiss if young, miss, want to be Veronica ever stepped foot in this, his oasis.
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Post by cavsgt on Mar 4, 2022 13:10:21 GMT -6
Thank You A good story please keep coming.
phill
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Post by texican on Mar 4, 2022 14:53:59 GMT -6
The gal, whomever she is, is Trouble.
Thanks Solo for the twists and turns.
Texican....
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ydderf2
Member
"I'm from the government and here to help" hahahaha
Posts: 321
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Post by ydderf2 on Mar 4, 2022 16:49:29 GMT -6
Thank you
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Post by kaijafon on Mar 4, 2022 17:33:34 GMT -6
I don't think she is his daughter but I do think she is NOT a good person. You responded to one of my stories!!! I am a happy person; my life if now complete! I am not worthy! hahaha! if you life is complete now, ok but don't stop writing the story.
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 5, 2022 8:26:08 GMT -6
The "lady" did not arrive there by her own decision. She was sent there for some reason. 1 she is to try and keep track of him. 2 She probably has orders to try and gain his trust and confidence. Not gonna happen methinks. 3 She has orders to either turn him for other purposes. 4 She has orders to kill him if all else fails. since she has ribeye steaks in that setting, I doubt that either she or her handlers have any real concept of what kind of environment they are dealing with let alone the type of man hie really is. How's that for peeking into solo's computer?
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Post by cavsgt on Mar 5, 2022 11:20:02 GMT -6
The "lady" did not arrive there by her own decision. She was sent there for some reason. 1 she is to try and keep track of him. 2 She probably has orders to try and gain his trust and confidence. Not gonna happen methinks. 3 She has orders to either turn him for other purposes. 4 She has orders to kill him if all else fails. since she has ribeye steaks in that setting, I doubt that either she or her handlers have any real concept of what kind of environment they are dealing with let alone the type of man hie really is. How's that for peeking into solo's computer? Way to make Solo change his story line.
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 5, 2022 11:32:51 GMT -6
The "lady" did not arrive there by her own decision. She was sent there for some reason. 1 she is to try and keep track of him. 2 She probably has orders to try and gain his trust and confidence. Not gonna happen methinks. 3 She has orders to either turn him for other purposes. 4 She has orders to kill him if all else fails. since she has ribeye steaks in that setting, I doubt that either she or her handlers have any real concept of what kind of environment they are dealing with let alone the type of man hie really is. How's that for peeking into solo's computer? Way to make Solo change his story line. just doin my best to keep him on his toes
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Post by solo on Mar 7, 2022 13:11:43 GMT -6
Can't change what you don't know is going to happen yourself.... My muse is fickle....
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Post by solo on Mar 7, 2022 13:12:17 GMT -6
Chapter 11
He wasn’t a small man. He wasn’t exactly tall or bulky either. He was average. In all ways. Still to most people, six foot is tall and 200 pounds is big. He didn’t usually have a lot of hair, he preferred a close cut, but for practical purpose, it was now grown out and he would working on his beard. The hair color wasn’t consistent, dark in some spots, but most white or grey elsewhere. This all worked in favor of him in several ways. He was warmer because of the insulating properties of hair. He was also forgettable. He didn’t stand out. You could not pick him out of a lineup. Paired with his remembered skills of his youth, he was almost ghost like in these woods.
A few days later, after his encounter with the lady, he was back at the site. Snow was coming soon so he didn’t really worry much about his tracks or being able to disappear this time. He wasn’t at the sight because he expected to see her again. True to his word, he considered this to be no factor and he randomly patrolled all areas in his AOR. Today was the day he decide to do this lower part.
This expedient site was about eight miles to the southwest of his base camp. I liked to take multiple days in each area to get a real feel of what was going on in the area. He was not hunting but would not pass up an opportunity if it presented itself. And it did. He again had a brace of rabbits he had gotten earlier in the day. They were again field dressed and would be his meal tonight.
He carefully approached the site, but saw it was empty. He chose not to stay there, for while his senses noted nothing out of the ordinary, he would not trust that something could not happen here as it was a focal point of so much activity lately. He pulled back and set up a stealth camp somewhat away and well hidden. He could not put his finger on it, but conventional wisdom would have shouted at him to not overnight anywhere in that area.
Smartly, he took his rabbits well away from his sleeping area and prepared and cooked them enjoying them greatly. Afterwards as the light was fading he went back to his hammock and got himself comfortable.
A few hours later, he was awoken and all his senses were screaming. Looking out from his concealment he saw two flashlights coming along the well-traveled trail and to the site of the expedient camp. The two people behind them were not moving particularly stealthily and it wasn’t long until he caught parts of the conversation.
“I tell you! It was just an animal.” Said one to the other, obviously male.
“No the sensors showed it was a biped. Only one of those around.” The female of the duo spoke up.
“I hope so. When I catch him and have a time alone with him, then we will see.”
Wes did not recognize any of the voices. But he was certain they were looking for him. Lots of thoughts coursed through his mind. What did they want him for? Was this friend or foe. Sounded like foe, but you never know.
The duo reached the site and looked around. “See? Empty. There’s got to be a better way.”
“Yeah, we should be using the drones. With heat sensing equipment. That would be the way to go.”
“Absolutely!”
Wes snickered a little as he watched them from the warmth of his sleep system. So they have sensors and drones. Neither are much good now, but in the spring, that could be a problem.
A limb broke somewhere behind the hammock. Instantly the two lights swung in his direction. One of them hit him directly but they didn’t make out he was there. Eventually they continued what they were doing. Soon they had a tent set up and crawled inside.
The next morning, they broke camp and left. Wes watched them, having kept an eye on them all night. He decided to stay in place and surveil the place for a few days.
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Post by texican on Mar 7, 2022 13:25:26 GMT -6
If folks are looking for you, you have three choices:
1. Do nothing and escape. 2. Take them, strip them, find out who they are, where they come from, who the group is and then take them out depending on who the group is and what their plans are, then plan accordingly. 3. Follow them to see where they go to see how many and what they are doing and then plan accordingly.
Number 1 is the safest, but if they want him, they will be back. Number 2 is the quickest way to get information and eliminate two of the threats. Number 3 is the most dangerous, but would provide the most info.
It should have been Number 2.
Texican....
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 7, 2022 14:08:43 GMT -6
If folks are looking for you, you have three choices: 1. Do nothing and escape. 2. Take them, strip them, find out who they are, where they come from, who the group is and then take them out depending on who the group is and what their plans are, then plan accordingly. 3. Follow them to see where they go to see how many and what they are doing and then plan accordingly. Number 1 is the safest, but if they want him, they will be back. Number 2 is the quickest way to get information and eliminate two of the threats. Number 3 is the most dangerous, but would provide the most info. It should have been Number 2. Texican.... But could he stage the scene so it looks like a falling out among thieves so they're not looking for him?
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 7, 2022 17:58:47 GMT -6
If folks are looking for you, you have three choices: 1. Do nothing and escape. 2. Take them, strip them, find out who they are, where they come from, who the group is and then take them out depending on who the group is and what their plans are, then plan accordingly. 3. Follow them to see where they go to see how many and what they are doing and then plan accordingly. Number 1 is the safest, but if they want him, they will be back. Number 2 is the quickest way to get information and eliminate two of the threats. Number 3 is the most dangerous, but would provide the most info. It should have been Number 2. Texican.... I would think that number 2 would be the most dangerous. If they don't report back to base there could be a larger search group showing up in his AO.
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Post by texican on Mar 7, 2022 20:17:07 GMT -6
If folks are looking for you, you have three choices: 1. Do nothing and escape. 2. Take them, strip them, find out who they are, where they come from, who the group is and then take them out depending on who the group is and what their plans are, then plan accordingly. 3. Follow them to see where they go to see how many and what they are doing and then plan accordingly. Number 1 is the safest, but if they want him, they will be back. Number 2 is the quickest way to get information and eliminate two of the threats. Number 3 is the most dangerous, but would provide the most info. It should have been Number 2. Texican.... I would think that number 2 would be the most dangerous. If they don't report back to base there could be a larger search group showing up in his AO. Remember his base camp is about is 8 miles away from the site where he could have dispatched the two. How long before the group comes looking? Enough time to determine what to do and make other plans. Now he doesn't know anything about the group except they are looking for him. Solo will undoubtedly bring us what is coming between him and the group. Maybe a good woman, rockets, RPG's, ammo, food and more if he doesn't already have it. Texican....
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Post by solo on Mar 8, 2022 11:31:53 GMT -6
Chapter 12
After three nights of limited sleep, he admitted that fatigue had set in and he began slowly to get packed up and ready to move out. He had worked with some of the performance researchers from both the Air Force and Navy at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. In particular, though he didn’t realize that she was a world renown sleep and fatigue expert, he spent a great deal of time in Dr. Lynn Caldwell’s strangely named “sleep” lab. Why it was called this, he never knew or asked. Because you tended to do anything but sleep there.
While he was there, he learned a good deal about what the body could endure as a sleep debt or fatigue load was taken on in the academic sense. He’d learned in his early military training that you could always do way more than what your mind told you you could do. As he had an insatiable appetite to learn the why of things, he eventually found the Naval Medical Research Unit, Dayton that was co-located with the Air Force’s 711th Human Performance Wing. There working under the guidance of CDR Michael Lowe, who himself had a PhD and was an expert in Human Performance in austere environments, he had answered a lot of his whys.
His favorite part of his training involved motion sickness inoculation. What they didn’t know was that he never got sick for any reason. They put him in the research device with the spinning chair, he had heard it called the Spin-n-Puke affectionately. Well, he reached maximum rotations per minute and never had an issue. They next put him into the Spatial Disorientation Device which was a research device affectionately known as the Kraken that could move on six axis of movement: Yaw, Pitch and Roll as well as horizontal heave, vertical heave and planetary rotation. It was designed to give the person at the controls a sense of continual movement while exploring the limits of aerodynamic movements. Again, he did very well in even the most extreme protocols.
He shook his head. He was much younger then, but had learned to be much more in tuned to what his body was telling him and was well versed in what age would do to these abilities. While he still never had vestibular issue with sickness, dizziness or disorientation, it turned out in most cases, the wear and tear on his body would be the limiting factor in long term surveillance situations. At least this time he was somewhat comfortable in his hammock.
He was soon packed up and made his way back to his basecamp in his roundabout way that allowed him to do a check on more of his surroundings but also gave no straight line indication of where his base was. He made it a point to keep weekly updates of roughly 20 miles in this what he considered was his AOR.
The nagging thought was why were folks fixated on him and why in that particular part of the woods. Were they looking specifically for him or for someone or something else. He decided that when he made his next monthly trip to town for supplies, he would look around and put our feelers. Simply to see what was happening.
He guessed it was about the middle of February so he was hoping the snowing would stop and spring would happen next month. He planned to recage his gryo when in town, getting the true day of the week and date and month.
Now it was just deciding when he should go. It was about a 45 mile trip in a straight line, which he never took. He would meander around and approach town from different directions, never coming from the same direction twice. He made sure to come from the actual direction so that if anyone was actually following his patterns, he would not leave the true direction void of approach and lead someone to deduce that was his intention.
He decided he’d go day after tomorrow after resting up some more and making sure his camp was secure and all evidence of his passing were erased.
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 8, 2022 21:02:28 GMT -6
Ah yes Cdr Lowe call sign "Solo"
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Post by 9idrr on Mar 8, 2022 21:15:09 GMT -6
Boy, that-there CDR Mike Lowe must be quite the expert, what with him havin' hisself a PhD 'n' all. Maybe he'd be willin' to help me improve my performance up to where I'd almost be considered human. ;^)
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 8, 2022 21:56:59 GMT -6
Boy, that-there CDR Mike Lowe must be quite the expert, what with him havin' hisself a PhD 'n' all. Maybe he'd be willin' to help me improve my performance up to where I'd almost be considered human. ;^) You grunts do take a lot of work.
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 9, 2022 6:27:19 GMT -6
gotta love NAMRU-D and the 711th. I attended a retirement ceremony at NAMRU-D. All I'm going to say.
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Post by solo on Mar 9, 2022 9:44:04 GMT -6
Ah yes Cdr Lowe call sign "Solo" Name changed to protect the innocent. I heard he was a B*&tard.... LOL
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Post by solo on Mar 9, 2022 9:48:06 GMT -6
Boy, that-there CDR Mike Lowe must be quite the expert, what with him havin' hisself a PhD 'n' all. Maybe he'd be willin' to help me improve my performance up to where I'd almost be considered human. ;^) You grunts do take a lot of work. Not a lot of work and more than I deserved, my NCO's and younger sailors kept me out of trouble! My favorite time of my career was in Panama City, FL with the Divers and SEALS in the late 90's... This E-6, Bos'n Mate, SEAL type taught me in a certain territory OCONNUS that rental cars indeed make the best off road vehicles... And that toilets, tossed from three stories up do fall at the same rate as TVs....
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Post by solo on Mar 9, 2022 9:54:01 GMT -6
CHAPTER 13
“You havin’ a good stay with us?” The short, skinny pimply face deputy smiled at him through the bars in the county’s holding area.
Three days ago, he had come into the small town and went into the bank and withdrew a sizable amount of money so he could purchase supplies. He had set it up so that any money he needed for necessities would be forwarded to this account at this local non-descript bank. Never mind that all of his previous earnings and all of his continued automated income were initially deposited into a Swiss bank account in Lucerne. It never stayed there long and was automatically transferred randomly amongst 10-12 other accounts both internationally and domestically. The last stop before this account was into three or four rather large holding accounts with USAA, Navy Federal and with Merril Lynch. As he keep these accounts at the maximum FDIC limits to protect his assets, though they were really backed by only the ones and zeros that electronic banking allowed. He made sure to take a manageable sum of cash out and convert to gold and silver as a hedge to the expected coming economic storm.
He had these assets stored in a secure location just outside of this town on a small plot of land owned by an out of town trust to which he was the only trustee.
He had left the bank and decided to check into the small motel down the street to clean up and do a little laundry before getting his supplies and heading back. He liked this motel and the other two or three that he rotated around because they took cash and did not require any ID. After checking in, he showered changed and then repacked his gear. Something was feeling off about this trip. He took enough money to buy some supplies and then left the room. Taking his backpack he quickly ducked into the woods behind the motel and found a nice spot behind a large tree with forked roots and stashed his backpack, covering it with debris and leaves.
He went shopping and bought a few staples that he could manage to carry on his way back, with coffee being the main one. When he exited the grocery store. He was met with four deputies standing behind two squad cars parked long ways to the store front all with pistols drawn and pointed in his direction.
After taking two steps he squared up and stayed motionless. He didn’t say a word. The largest of the four spoke up. “That’s far enough.” Even though he had stopped already. “Let me see them hands.”
Wes bent over slowly and set his items on the ground. Slowly he moved his hands out to either side and raised back up.
“Go cuff him.” The fat man nodded to the skinny pimpled faced deputy with the loose ill fitting uniform. This wraith of a man with bad teeth approach the man and stepped behind him. “You have a right to remain silent…” Going through the entire Miranda rights. Wes let them cuff him and still stood there.
“Good, Good.” The fat man was extremely jumpy. “Had some folks see you come into town this morning. We’ve been looking for you since Jack Horner turned up dead right after you left last time. We have some questions for you!” He sneered. “Lot’s of folks say they saw you arguing with him before you up and disappeared.”
Wes raised his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit. “People tend to say a lot these days. Doesn’t make it all true.”
“Well, we’s will be getting answers out of you alls the same.” The fat deputy growled.
“Just so you know, I will be invoking my Miranda Rights at this time.” With that Wes hadn’t said a word in the last two days and nights in county lockup. With the exception of his stiff protesting joints, it wasn’t too bad considering more than one drunk decided to make a go at him. Where with all, he managed to quickly change their minds without any visible damage or bruising. Needless to say, urinating for the next few days would be difficult for both of them.
That was, until this deputy opened his mouth and disrupted his serenity. The man sat there jeering then said, “Buckle up Home Boy. Your Lawyer is here.”
He turned to the bars with his hand behind his back and the deputy reached through to put the cuffs on him.
Before anyone could see what happened, Wes grabbed the deputy’s arms and pulled him close, quickly. Lucky for the deputy, the bars hitting his nose stopped him from joining Wes in the cell, but it wasn’t due to a lack of force. Wes turned slowly and put his nose just to the other side of the bar from the deputy’s nose.
“Just so we understand each other, respect goes a long way!” Wes growled about three octaves lower than usual. “You all are holding me without my due process. I will have words.”
Without any other fanfare, he turned and released the deputy, still holding his wrists out to be cuffed.
To his credit, the deputy stepped back a moment, the chippiness off his face and taking a moment to look at Wes, took the cuffs and secured them. Opening the cell, he led him down a couple of hallways to an interrogation room. The deputy sat him at the table and left.
He knew he was being watched and after a few minutes a lady, impeccably dressed in a skirt suit, with short reddish hair, and well applied make up in all the right places. She placed her briefcase on the table and then sat down. Opening the case, she took out a cassette recorder, a legal pad and a pen and laid them out.
Taking the recorder, and starting it, she started. “My name is Sherrie Van Lacompt. I am your court appointed attorney.”
“Do I need an attorney?”
“At this point, probably not. We are surprised at the charges and are most eager for you to not be here.”
He looked pointedly at the mirror. “That is a one way mirror, they are listening to everything we say. So how is your visit going to help me?”
“Well, for starters, you did not kill Jack Horner.” She paused.
Without intending too, his eyebrows went up. “Go on.”
“I figured it would have got to you that little Jack Horner sat in his corner….” She tilted her head.
“Eating his curds and whey. Yeah, Yeah, I get that part. What is going on?” He was getting tired of this game.
“This isn’t a tape recorder. It is a jamming device and we have jammed this entire conversation so far. Those idiots in the other room, the ones who didn’t figure out the nursery rhyme had been working the problem from their end. In a moment, someone in a janitor’s outfit will come in here and check the one bug they bothered to put in here. They will find it totally working properly. Do not say anything while this check is going on.”
Sure enough, as soon as she finished, the worker walked in said, “Excuse me” and walked to a corner of the room. With his back to them he fished out a devise that checked for power and connectivity. Both were greenlit so he slipped it back into his pocket and turning said, “Thank you.” And left.
After the door closed, Wes looked at her, noted she turned the jammer back on, and said, “You aren’t a lawyer.”
She smiled and said, “You aren’t a murderer. At least not with poor Jack Horner. Don’t fret, I will have you out this afternoon under my recognizance.” She paused. “What makes you think I am not a lawyer.”
“Your clothes are too new, your make up a bit too perfect, makes me wonder what else has been changed under there. And that wig…. Wow! Not to mention that your note pad doesn’t even have a sheet torn from it and your pen still has that little ball of wax at the end. Does that cover it?”
The lawyer looked at him this shifted to her normal voice “Does it really matter, Wesley? You are getting out of her with the charges dropped.”
He sat there and shook his head, recognizing the “normal” voice, “What the “F”, Veronica???”
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