Romanowski and Rosemary

7. 21st century spies

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Solicit #rohypnol#
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"Bro..." Lorenzo swiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead as he gawked at the psychotic look on his crime partner's face. "There's no way you actually getting the Romanos Palace guards fucking roofied?"

Dunkin Welsh gave an evil laugh, inspecting the small packet of powder that had just arrived in Lorenzo's AI book. "Neither is it a date, nor is anyone getting abused so chill."

The Sun was slowly coming to its peak as the Egyptian heat beat down on the warriors in the Romanowskian palace.

Lorenzo grabbed his book, incredulous. "Do you reckon that it's a drug? A 21st-century drug! These 4th-century peeps are gonna die!"

But the priest-turned-warrior was indifferent.

"Inducing sleep and death are two different things, Lore." Dunkin hid the packet in the warrior attire he'd donned that matched Lorenzo's. "Dude, sometimes you underestimate my intelligence, don't you?" He raised a thick fake brow, which he'd attached over his real ones.

Coming out of the large trees by the training ground, he looked around to see the other warriors casually jogging, at whom he did a little salute. They hollered back in acknowledgement.

"My field of expertise has been the Study of ancient human physiology," he stated, walking near the training arena. "Which means I've worked on a gazillion genetic data from artefacts. One of them was determining Rohypnol compatibility with the ancient gene," he grinned. "My research was successful, FYI."

Lorenzo grumbled, remembering how his major at Raymond differed from his. Dunkin did this genetic study thing with Cheryl, which was quite interesting.

"You're really something, planning how to drug ancient peeps, right in your senior year, huh?" he muttered. Dunkin could be a psychopath, he concluded as he increased his distance from him.

"That's right. One should consider every possibility." He laughed. "It's amazing how the receptor gene of ancient humans acts very similar to ours. Just, the reaction rate time in their body is-"

"Now you're just rubbing it in the face, Donut." He scoffed.

"That's how I feel when you're explaining to me, for no apparent reason, about the swords you forged in the best underground forgery of Egypt."

"I must've killed you in the previous birth that you're out here, exacting revenge for every damn thing I speak." Lorenzo snorted.

"Just accept, I'm the comeback King."

"Donuts do-nuts when they go nuts. Best of luck, bro, for your mass drugging charade."

"And Loren sings crappy little lores when he's bored." Dunkin rolled his eyes. "Don't forget, you are helping me with my charade." The priest-turned warrior shot back with a smirk. Fartaxerxes stomped on the ground. So much for restoring friendship.

Slight wind blew about, which was all but humid and sweat-inducing. Lorenzo eyed his originally bald priest friend who now had a wig of dark long hair. The last Achaemenid war was coming closer, and to his terrible fate, Julian Romanowski remembered that the noob warrior had to visit his palace for proper training.

Joining him were some more warriors from Alexander's army, and that's how Dunkin camouflaged amongst them.

Not before giving a physical fitness test and paperwork which had Alexander's stamp that Dastan Ahmad aka Dunkin was a rough warrior in the left front infantry and needed polishing in his tactics.