01-10-2021, 02:11 AM
[Two Days Later]
The '69 Mustang Boss rumbled into the parking lot of the broken-down motel. Delia parks just outside
of Meshach's room, engine running. The same room where only days before the hulking man beat her
without mercy. She waited for nearly two minutes, then decided a knock was necessary. Three pounds
on the door. Several seconds pass before he finally opens up.
"We goin' or what?" she asked impatiently.
"Fuck are you talkin' about?" he shot back.
"You didn't get the message?"
"What fuckin' message?" he questioned.
Delia pushes past him into the room and he closes the door. She wasn't at all happy to see this place
again. But duty called.
"The boss sent me a text, said to pick you up. We got a hand-off to make." she said.
Meshach walks over and grabs his phone from the nightstand.
"Nope, nothin'."
Delia stands feet away but still feels too close to the disgusting pig that put his hands wrongly on a lady.
"We need to leave now or we're gonna miss this thing." she informed him.
The tension was thick and heavy, filling the room with an ugly discomfort like stale cigarette smoke.
Delia stared at the ogre hoping things wouldn't take a bad turn. His eyes defiling her with a sickly
expression. Just as he leaned into a step towards her, his phone beeps. He looks down, moves his lips
slightly and peers back up at her. Message received.
"I guess we got some dope to sell." he declared picking up his jacket and walking to the door.
Every cell in Delia's body breathed a huge sigh of relief. She really didn't want to have to take any
permanent measures in that motel room.
They arrive at the drop; an old metal building at the docks. No one is there. Meshach looks around and
passes his anger onto Delia.
"You sure this is the place?" he asked.
"I'm not as dumb as you look." she returned.
He pulls on the door handle and raises a leg before Delia stops him.
"Hey, reach in there, hand it to me." she said motioning to the glove box.
Opening the compartment he sees one lone object - a silencer. He picks it up and examines it.
"Hell is this for?" he asked.
Delia grabs it, screws it into place and looks back up at him.
"In case this goes sideways." she said as they both get out.
The two walk back to the trunk to get the star of the show. Delia sticks the key in and nods.
"You wanna? It hangs sometimes." she admitted.
Meshach glared at her dismissively, then turns the key and pops the trunk open wide. It was lined with
thick plastic sheeting. And there was no bag of drugs. He spins around to find Delia's gun pressed to
his forehead now.
"The fuck is this?" he yelled.
"Sideways." she fired with a cold stare, sending a round through the shitbag's head.
He fell back and mostly into the trunk. She pushed him the rest of the way in and slammed it shut. Quickly
she checked the scene for any on-lookers before jumping in and driving away.
She owed her friend a beer. That contact of hers at the NSA who showed her how to send text messages
that would appear to be from any desired source. Trade secrets. It's good to have friends.
This would light the fuse...
The '69 Mustang Boss rumbled into the parking lot of the broken-down motel. Delia parks just outside
of Meshach's room, engine running. The same room where only days before the hulking man beat her
without mercy. She waited for nearly two minutes, then decided a knock was necessary. Three pounds
on the door. Several seconds pass before he finally opens up.
"We goin' or what?" she asked impatiently.
"Fuck are you talkin' about?" he shot back.
"You didn't get the message?"
"What fuckin' message?" he questioned.
Delia pushes past him into the room and he closes the door. She wasn't at all happy to see this place
again. But duty called.
"The boss sent me a text, said to pick you up. We got a hand-off to make." she said.
Meshach walks over and grabs his phone from the nightstand.
"Nope, nothin'."
Delia stands feet away but still feels too close to the disgusting pig that put his hands wrongly on a lady.
"We need to leave now or we're gonna miss this thing." she informed him.
The tension was thick and heavy, filling the room with an ugly discomfort like stale cigarette smoke.
Delia stared at the ogre hoping things wouldn't take a bad turn. His eyes defiling her with a sickly
expression. Just as he leaned into a step towards her, his phone beeps. He looks down, moves his lips
slightly and peers back up at her. Message received.
"I guess we got some dope to sell." he declared picking up his jacket and walking to the door.
Every cell in Delia's body breathed a huge sigh of relief. She really didn't want to have to take any
permanent measures in that motel room.
They arrive at the drop; an old metal building at the docks. No one is there. Meshach looks around and
passes his anger onto Delia.
"You sure this is the place?" he asked.
"I'm not as dumb as you look." she returned.
He pulls on the door handle and raises a leg before Delia stops him.
"Hey, reach in there, hand it to me." she said motioning to the glove box.
Opening the compartment he sees one lone object - a silencer. He picks it up and examines it.
"Hell is this for?" he asked.
Delia grabs it, screws it into place and looks back up at him.
"In case this goes sideways." she said as they both get out.
The two walk back to the trunk to get the star of the show. Delia sticks the key in and nods.
"You wanna? It hangs sometimes." she admitted.
Meshach glared at her dismissively, then turns the key and pops the trunk open wide. It was lined with
thick plastic sheeting. And there was no bag of drugs. He spins around to find Delia's gun pressed to
his forehead now.
"The fuck is this?" he yelled.
"Sideways." she fired with a cold stare, sending a round through the shitbag's head.
He fell back and mostly into the trunk. She pushed him the rest of the way in and slammed it shut. Quickly
she checked the scene for any on-lookers before jumping in and driving away.
She owed her friend a beer. That contact of hers at the NSA who showed her how to send text messages
that would appear to be from any desired source. Trade secrets. It's good to have friends.
This would light the fuse...
