"It's hot." I looked over at Greg, my cousin, who was visiting from Oregon, and scoffed.
"It's...MAYBE 80 degrees little man."
"It's disgustingly hot." He pulled down his Sahara hat sulkily.
"You get used to it. So, what's on the agenda for the day?"
"Deliveries." The way he said it made me shiver, as though the air had frozen suddenly.
"What....exactly....are these deliveries, anyways?" I asked hesitantly, because I wasn't sure I was allowed to know.
"Oh, you know....stuff they wont tell us about. But, hey, if the government wants us to know, they'll tell us."
"That's depressing...and scary."
" You get used to it."
We drove on in the Jeep, the highway giving off heat waves, making it look like an ocean of asphalt. I didn't mind the heat, in fact, I hated the cold more than anything. Greg, on the other hand, had huge issues with the lack of humidity, and the overwhelming warmth. His pale skin had turned hot pink after only a few hours in the sun.
Greg had come down to Arizona, where I lived, because he had a bad run-in with some of the "bad guys" in Oregon. Greg worked for an organization within the government known as DOJO, or Department of Judicial Operations. Apparantly, not all the rich guys "got away." Sometimes the government would get wind, and send their own punishment. Whatever that was, remained a mystery. Most of the deliveries we made were to stake out vans. I had no clue so many people in Arizona interested the government, or DOJO.
"Turn left at the stop sign," Greg hollered over the wind, breaking me from my troubled thoughts. I blinked rapidly, and slowed down to turn.
"Hard at work in the noggin department," Greg said. It was his fathers favorite saying when he wanted to know what was on your mind, and it had grown on Greg quite a bit. It still annoyed the crap out of me.
"Just recapping what's happened these last few weeks."
He nodded, and watched me for a few moments.
"You know Tori, I think you'd be a perfect candidate for the DOJO team."
I shook my head, laughing.
"No way, man. For one, I would have to give up my personal life. Two, I'd have to go to boot camp. I'd probably piss off the drill sarge. And three, I don't work for companies that wont tell me why I'm doing what I'm doing. It seems too fishy for me."
He nodded his head, laughing.
"Right, right. I forgot, you don't like getting yelled at by men. Hey, uh, turn right on Seaweed, left on Coral." As I maneuvered the suburbs, we fell into a peaceful silence.
I broke it first.
"It's not that I can't handle getting yelled at by men. It's just that they think they have to insult me to get my respect. I'd respect them if they did all the drills with me. I don't want to hear about the macho run they did in blah blah point blah seconds. Put their feet where their mouth are."
"They'd kick you in the face whenever you tried to kiss them. Which you would."
I glared at him. "Hardly."
"Stop next to that blue house."
I pulled up to the curb and looked around.
"Is this the drop off area?"
"Kinda. That's the house they're doing surveillance on. We're gonna cross the street and go to the house over there, and drop off supplies."
"How do you know what's in there?"
He looked at me. "Well, if we're constantly going to houses and vans, I can only deduce that it'd be canned goods or more surveillance equipment."
I nodded. "It beats the hell out of nuclear bombs."
"Uh, yeah."
We climbed out of the Jeep and grabbed the bags of "groceries," and a 6 pack of beer, and walked across the street.
"What's the beer for?"
"It makes us look more normal. Everyone in this house looks young, acts young, and mostly is young. It gives off the appearance of a room mate situation, or a frat house."
"Smooth."
"It was my idea."
We knocked on the door, and then let ourselves in.
"Hello," Greg called, dropping the groceries on the couch. No one was in the living room. The strange thing was, this house looked....homey. Nice, floral patterned couches and chairs were tastefully positioned around the room. A large plasma television was mounted on the wall. Tasteful paintings of dogs, country living, and several family photos lined the walls.
"Are there any females in DOJO?"
After a moment I looked around and noticed Greg wasn't in the room.
I stepped towards the hallway when I heard voices.
At first, they were so faint, I couldn't understand. But then whoever the guy was, shouted.
"I said DON"T MOVE."
I heard pacng and ducked into the bathroom. A bedroom door opened, and I heard heavy breathing, and then the door closed again.
I edged to the doorway, checking to make sure I had my gun at the sole of my back, tucked into my jeans. I also grabbed my phone and dialed the combination Greg had given me when I first started driving him around.
"In case anything happens, dial this number, listen to make sure it picks up and then leave it in a drawer, or hidden behind a rock or something."
I opened a medicine cabinet, and pushed it in,, closing it quietly, and then moved towards the closed door. The voices grew louder.
"How long have you been watching the boss? HOW LONG?"
No answer.
"He ain't stupid, you know. He knew the moment you moved in that you were spies. Who are you working for, huh? WHO? Tell me, or I blow this guys head clear off. I'll do it."
A heard someone speak in a low, calming voice.
Right then I took my chance and braced my self against the wall, and then did a mid-level kick to the door, my gun in hand.
The door swung open and I stepped in, gun level. I didn't look at anyone else. Just at the two men with guns.
"Put your guns down or I will shoot."
One of the guys, who, by the way, was uglier than sin, sneered. His teeth were black or missing. I gagged mentally.
"Now, who's this delicate little flower? Is she one of yours?"
The man on his knees shook his head violently. I looked a little closer, and saw it was Greg. He had a bloody lip, and his cheek was bright red, and beginning to swell.
Ugly Man's partner wasn't doing well for himself either. He sat on a chair, breathing heavily, blood blooming slowly across his shirt.
I had to end this fast.
"Step down, or I shoot," I said.
"Over my hot body." He grinned, and kicked Greg in the chest, causing him to grimace and bend over in pain.
At that moment, as he pulled back from his kick, I reacted. I fired two shots, one hitting him in the shoulder, the other in his thigh, just shy of his groin area. He dropped his gun, and gave out a yell or anger and pain.
"You stupid girl," he growled. "You may as well forget me letting you pleasure me before I kill you. I'll just do it now."
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