"I don't take orders from you." The voice he had previously thought to be soft had found a stern tone, defiantly stating that he had no right to ask this of her.
Colton Bradley kept the phone close to his ear, quickly shuffling down the stairs as he heard yet another gun shot pierce the air. It was followed by another, accompanying the shrill screams and the stampeding of feet from the floor above. He had distanced himself from the focal point of the violence, but it still persisted. His pace became faster, "Sure, but you do listen to Pierce. This came from him."
Colton had not had a good day. He hadn't had a good week. Between Caris screwing up enough to let Sienna Firman escape from the hospital, not telling him that HYDRA was going to ambush his cabin without knowing he was their operative, Sienna figuring out his true allegiance, getting hit by her famous right hook that broke his nose and dislocated his jaw, plus Caris disappearing, it was safe to say he wasn't loving life at the moment.
Then he finally made it back to the Triskelion. What did he get? A demotion and a slap from Director Pierce that made his face hurt even more. After all his years of hard work establishing Firman's trust and getting close to her friends, it was blown away by her putting some faith in her very incriminating older sister. Now Pierce didn't have HYDRA's latest creation in check and Bradley was going to take the blame. His punishment would come after Project Insight launch.
Had the Director's prized Winter Soldier failed? Not entirely. He had been thwarted at the cabin and had a deep slash in his thigh to prove it. Yet he had driven Firman back to the rest of SHIELD's most wanted, where they had all been briefly apprehended. He got the credit. Not Agent 21, who had worked undercover for months trying to gain the trust of the unlikely Avenger. Acting as an excited new recruit, providing menial backup that was never truly needed, and befriending a painfully awkward weapons specialist he had become fond of. All of that effort was dashed aside the moment Sienna's fist connected with his face. Then the de-thawed master assassin finished his job for him.
But guess what? Captain America was actively trying to sabotage that plan and Colton didn't doubt Firman was with him. That gave him a chance, because the Soldier had failed at something.
The words hadn't triggered anything and he had a hunch why. That guess might grant him another chance.
Steve Roger's voice had finally faded overhead, the man retiring from the speech to presumably attack the launching carriers. The still base that had been previously captivated by the dramatic call to arms had erupted into a panic. Countless shots began to fire off as the personnel turned on each other to take one side or the other after the immediate confusion ensued by the revelation of an unknown enemy in their midst. Swarms of agents rushed to exits, others to their posts, some to armories. The floor beneath the agent's feet trembled as the earth moved under them to reveal the three helicarriers crafted to execute the organizations true intention.
"I need Pierce on the line then." The voice on the phone demanded, not giving into Bradley's request so easily, "This has to come from him directly."
Colton turned into a corridor, finding the first door on the left after a brief jog. He used his free hand to reach inside of his jacket, pulling out his ID card. Once procured, he pressed it against the scanner mounted on the wall, "He's busy entertaining the Security Council right now, or was until Captain America showed up and they launched Insight early."
There was a long, drawn out pause on the line before the woman muttered out a very poignant, "What?"
A green light flashed and the door handle's locking mechanism unhinged itself after the machine granted him access. Bradley hastily twisted the knob and continued moving forward through the next blandly decorated hall the opening led to, "I'm sure the news will reach Sokovia in a few minutes. Rogers just told the whole world about HYDRA and he's planning on stopping the helicarriers. You can bet who's with him."
She stayed quiet for a few more moments, processing the weight of Agent 21's words. In the meantime, he stalked the corridor that ultimately led to the latest imports the Triskelion had received in the past few days. The stifled sounds of the unfolding mayhem were now faded as he distanced himself from the main center of the conflict, "If he succeeds, that means you lose your lab rat for good. If doesn't, it still means Firman can get killed in the middle of this whole mess. Either way, if I get to her first, you get your science experiment back and operational, but I need the cargo manifest number."
Colton could hear the scientist's breath hiss through clenched teeth in frustration with her current predicament. She'd break soon, though. She'd always eventually choose her work over protocol.
"You've failed before." The woman decided on her final statement, but the agent knew she was coming around to him. Bradley had now reached the end of the hallway that led to a set of locked double doors. To his right was counter where an agent that controlled when this barrier opened usually stood behind.
"So have you." His rebuttal came fast, "Whatever in this vial better work this time."
"It will work." The scientist insisted, offended by what his arrogant tone insinuated. What did he know of alien energy infusing with human biology? She'd spent months figuring out the final formula and it wouldn't disappoint. She just didn't completely trust Agent 21 with seeing that her creation's purpose would be fulfilled.
Bradley observed his surroundings, still not seeing security guard that'd open the doors to where most extra security imports were kept, "Tell me the number and we'll test that theory."
Another long pause wasted time on the line. He heard her swallow, then reluctantly read off the extensive manifest name, "M-E-T-I-S 21890."
Colton's triumphant sigh of relief sounded through the quiet space. He had a plan to gain his official rank back, secure Firman, and most likely get some type of dignified honor for it. Now all he had to do was dispose of the guard, get the vial, and find Sienna, "That will be all, Doctor Walter. Thank you."
~~~~~~~~
"Hey Cap! How can we tell the good guys from the bad?" Sam Wilson shouted out over the coursing wind that flew into our faces that had begun to drown out the sound of pumping blood in my ears. The far city of DC and a clear sky was before us, but it wouldn't be long until helicarriers obstructed that view. They had already begun their ascension as the three of us sprinted across the platform towards the launch point in hopes of making it aboard before they reached any higher.
"If they're shooting at you, they're bad!"
After Steve's response, Wilson was quick to utilize his biggest advantage in the coming fight. He pushed out his arms at his sides and the suit followed the action. In a matter of seconds his mechanical wings deployed into their full span and he lifted off the ground with ease, the armor's thrusters pushing him to a higher altitude.
Meanwhile, Rogers and I were imminently approaching the ledge that's quick drop off led to our targets below. While he could sustain the long jump, I wouldn't. I liked falling when I had a plan to stop myself before I hit the ground and I was fairly certain now the impact after a hundred meter fall wouldn't do my already aching body any good. In most situations I'd just have Steve catch me, but that shouldn't be a priority when entering what would quickly become an active war zone.
I brought up my wrist communicator, hurried breaths impeding my words from the run, "Hey, Wilson, I could use a ride down."
"Hope you're not afraid of heights."
Years of parachuting out of planes had taught me not to hesitate when leaping from high places, but my legs still momentarily felt like the consistency of jelly as I launched myself off of the platform. My breath was stolen as I plummeted through the air faster than I could inhale it and my mind split-second considered the terrifying idea of what would happen if Wilson didn't catch me.
That thought didn't have time to riddle me with doubt when Sam's grip wrapped around each of my biceps. I was ripped back up in a different direction and my stomach violently turned in on itself. My hair flew directly into my face and I gasped to attempt to regain a regularly breathing pattern. His grasp on my arms grew tighter as Wilson guided us towards the first carrier. Adrenaline brought my pulse to a maddening speed, but an unfiltered smile graced my lips as the surface of the platform grew larger on our approach.
Wilson and I didn't exactly have the same landing idea; while I thought he'd glide closer to the carrier until my feet touched the asphalt, I was free falling a quick ten feet after he let go. The rough impact sent shoots of paralyzing pain straight to the joints in my knees. I winced, still paying for jumping off of a bridge yesterday and that certainly did not help.
The realization I was relatively out in the open and a perfect target sent me speeding towards several storage crates for shelter. Steve had cleared a path and dealt with any immediate threats all ready, but that would rapidly change in the next few seconds. I reached the containers, bracing against them briefly to catch my breath and searching for more targets. My knees still ached.
My partner appeared next to me, eyes darting around us before Hill's voice sounded from both our comms, "Eight minutes, Cap."
"Working on it." He fired back while I finally regained the ability to speak as I had ample oxygen in my lungs again. We weren't far from the hangar bay, but getting there may would take a fair amount of time. I decided to stop wasting it.
My fingers fiddled with the strap against my chest that kept an assault weapon tight to my back, "I take left, you go right."
Rogers nodded and disappeared behind the corner before I even had the stock to my shoulder. Racking back the slide to make sure the chamber was loaded, my first assailant came fast after I engaged him. His right hook meant to catch me in the jaw if I didn't evade and I barely did. I kicked into his chest to put enough distance between us and fired. I caught him in the neck, one of the only exposed places not covered by body armor, and did the same with the next HYDRA attacker before he could reach me.
I heard the next one behind me and spun around just before it was too late. Another volley of bullets his way and the man fell only a few yards away from my feet. At this, I decided I didn't want anymore close quarters combat for the moment.
The storage units.
I slung the gun over my shoulders and grasped up onto one of the crates after a hop up. I swung my leg up fast to tackle going up the next one in hopes my quick movements would ultimately beat my enemies'. Less than seven seconds later, I was perched behind an ammunition units and already lining up my sight with the receptacle of the scope. Once I put a Nazi agent in front of it, my fingers deftly squeezed around the metal trigger.
The three men interested in stopping me fell and I adjusted my position to see how my partner was fairing. He was busy taking out a duo of targets at once with his shield bouncing between them, but the next squad of attackers across the platform were heading his way. My first shot landed on one's armored chest plate and I cursed under my breath, hearing Clint's mocking voice in my head reminding me of compensating for the eventual fall the further the bullet traveled. I blamed my mistake on several months of traumatic torture and rusty skills and fixed the mistake by making sure the next shot hit the correct mark. It did five more times.
Steve was now charging towards a new threat, heedlessly unaware of the rushing assailant only a few steps behind him. I took care of that mounting problem and then the next in front of him. He slowed his pace, not exactly sure why the agent had been gunned down before he could reach it. He became more puzzled when he briskly turned to see another bleeding out behind him, and then another I sent rain of bullets towards. He expectantly spun around to look for more enemies, but I had dealt with all in the present vicinity.
I hurriedly climbed down from the crates, wincing when I forced myself to speed up to a run. Steve joined me at the side with our sights set on the hangar bay. A mildly annoyed tone accompanied an exasperated grin, "You could at least let me hit some."
My feet pounded into the ground and the heavy action sounded throughout the corridor when we entered inside of the carrier, "Most people say 'you're welcome'."
Despite the current HYDRA takeover, messed up biology, multitude of lies, and literally everything else that had systematically fallen apart in the last week, I had missed being in field.
The hangar containing the controller panel was enclosed with transparent glass, allowing a view at the building destruction on both the nearby carriers and the ground. I bounded across the narrow strip that bridged over a small chasm towards the console, slowing on approach to acquire the targeting blade from the pocket on my leg. Rogers covered my flank while I bent over the keyboard, punching in the five number access code Fury had given us earlier.
More sets of steps made my pulse rise with the tension while Steve occupied the soldiers that had trailed behind us. Bellows of gunfire hit the shield's exterior while I waited for the complicated mechanism to reveal the numerous amount of data chips synced to the aircraft's operating system. I switched the targeting blades and put in a different code to allow the panel to process it. One down, two to go.
I brought up the cuff of my jumpsuit sleeve, "Alpha locked."
I swiftly looked back at the fight Steve was dealing with, noticing the attacker to my right a second later. Unable to grab a hold of my rifle in time, I pulled a pistol from my holster as he stormed towards me with surprising vigor. I didn't have the opportunity to fire from a distance until he had overtaken me and was quick to send a fist my way. I blocked it with my right forearm, using my left to fire a shot into his stomach. It did send him back a few feet and the impact would leave an aching bruise, but the Kevlar stopped bullet from penetrating his armor.
I ducked to avoid another hit and rapidly backed up to miss a kick. I dodged a punch to my rib, going low and sending my boot into his knee. That caused him to stumble and the back my elbow met his neck. That sent him towards the railing and another shove had him toppling over from the great height.
The second's reflexes were more heightened than the first's - or mine at the moment. The soldier came from behind and went in for the same punch the former had tried to initiate and I dodged it again. I didn't miss his next attempt and my head was slammed into the wall beside us.
My skull pounded against the hard surface and the bitter flavor of iron exploded in my mouth. A guttural groan tumbled from my lips as he yanked back my hair and tossed me to the ground. My temple pounded with pain, and that discomfort only mounted when I collided with the cold floor. Reverberations of hurts sent lightning strikes up along every previous injury and surely made more.
Get up, my thoughts had shattered from coherency when my head met the wall, but that phrase sung over a clamoring pulse, Get up!
The attacker loomed over me and seemed to have the intent to color my complexion with even more bruises. His punch narrowly missed my jaw when I hastily rolled away from the hit, staggering back on one knee and grabbing my favored weapon from my side. Before I could act, a patriotic shield sang through the air right into the gut of the soldier. He immediately doubled over despite the body armor and the disk ricocheted back to its owner.
The next one came right on the heels of his predecessor. That man's hit was caught inches away from my face, but I had gained a foothold in this fight. I'd caught his wrist between mine and the dagger held in that hand. I suddenly pushed myself up onto both feet and swiftly sliced towards him. My blade drew a deep gash through the fabric on his arm.
He cried out and that shriek was muddled when a similar cut slashed at his throat. The attacker swayed to one side, gripping at his neck when deep red seeped past his clenched fingers. I turned away from the violent sight, my skull still recovering from such a blow. Dizzying thoughts tried to focus back onto the situation at hand, but my senses became overridden when they attempted to grasp the present setting.
You've done this before. You've done this before.
I had to run, I had to keep moving onto the mission. The beaten man was now bent onto the ground with his own blood staining the black uniform bearing my insignia.
You were trying to escape. Trying to escape that damn glass prison-
Not now inconsistent memories that show up at all the wrong moments. Not when 20 million lives are at stake. Not now!
Keep it together
"Firman!"
Ignoring the pain hammering against the insides of my head that had forced me into a cognitive trance, I ran towards Steve's voice without any other forethought. I couldn't fall into another episode of unconscious recollections of trauma done at the hands of the people I'm trying to actively stop right now- no. No.
Confusion crowded at the edges of unwanted thoughts and images of shattered glass and maroon spilling past folds of severed skin. And silver....and red.
Not now!
I grasped at my temple as if trying to silence it's murmurings. We were running again, Steve's hand pushing me forward before I caught up to his hastened pace. Focus focus focus.
"Sam's already engaged!" He relayed to me and I absentmindedly nodded. We burst back outside onto the main platform, my eyes looking for another target that might appear. My quick breaths flew past my lips when I looked to the last carrier on our left that rose higher into the cloudless blue. Only one more chip to replace and we could end this.
Focus on getting over there.
I wiped the blood gathering at the edge of my hairline back, the stench of gunpowder potent in the air. The two of us slowed as we approached the edge of the aircraft and regarded the massive distance between us and the intended destination.
I turned towards Steve, warily shaking my head, "I don't think even you can jump that."
Rogers agreed, bringing up his wrist comm while my eyes scoured the sky for the silhouette that greatly resembled a bird, "Sam, we're going to need a ride."
More shots tore through the air towards our position and my instinct told me to run for cover. My partner brought up his shield for momentary shelter before we reached nearby storage containers to serve as a barrier between us and the enemy's barrage of bullets. I briskly loaded another magazine into the chamber of my assault rifle and threw a glance over top of the crates. The Captain kept a conversation over travel with Sam while I exchanged fire with several more soldiers.
"Who's first?" His distorted voice asked, a dire manner pacing the question. We were cutting it extremely close with time.
Steve touched my side and I ducked back behind the storage units, making eye contact while he talked over the tremendous hum of the engines beneath us keeping the carrier afloat, "You go, I'll be coming right behind you."
I wordlessly nodded, coming up from my crouching form to draw closer to the daunting drop off at the edge. My eyes lingered down to the Triskelion hundreds of yards below and my heart once again decided to leap straight into my throat. I moved my gaze back up to the sky in front of me and saw Wilson's rapidly approaching figure come closer at a break-neck speed.
"You always liked this part!" Rogers reminded me of my own small obsession with free falling that had now seemed to abandon me. I pressed my chapped lips together.
"I prefer to have a better plan to not hit the ground!" I shout back, adjusting the strap of gun back over my torso and out stretching an arm.
If all else fails, I packed those rope bullets for a reason.
One moment my feet were firmly planted. The next they were dangling once Sam grabbed ahold of my wrist. Disorientation flooded every sense I possessed and nausea ruled both my head and stomach. All my organs plummeted into my gut as we shot straight up with a rapid momentum that grew in each passing moment. My free hand fought against the current of a racing wind to secure another grip onto Wilson's arm to assure I wouldn't be let go. The droning thrum of the last helicarrier's thrusters increased to roar in my ears when we began to close in. A less than pleasant gale pressed against my face and only let up when Sam slowed to drop me off onto the platform.
I let out an enormous breath when I landed on the solid surface. Trying to regain my full bearings, I spied every which way to look for incoming assailants. I had yet to see one before I sprinted for more cover while removing my gun from my back. Before I could secure the assault weapon in my hands, an unexpected kick disarmed me with little trouble and I was sent staggering back several feet.
Just as I had theorized, Pierce had sent the Winter Soldier. His face was barren of the mask discarded on the highway, revealing a hostile expression that did not match the one I'd seen in the file of James Barnes. They were the same in appearance, but not in manner. I opposed a frightening executioner wearing the visage of my partner's dead best friend.
I hadn't fallen, but I moved backwards even more to buy myself some time to react before my attacker could reach me. My fingers wrapped around the pistol in my holster and swiftly brought it up. That weapon went flying too and it was only my next response to duck that saved me from a metal fist impounding my cheek. I rolled away from the next hit, my immediate idea to keep evading HYDRA's prized assassin until I could grab ahold of one of my knives. He wasn't giving me the opportunity to do anything but try to dodge the punch's intended to pummel me. The Soldier's agility greatly mastered my own and his movements were performed with a ferocity that I had yet to match.
But I had made a promise to Steve; distract Barnes to ensure that he was able to stop Project Insight. At best, I'd somehow awaken Bucky Barnes from whatever mental manipulation he was under. At worst, his orders to not kill me had changed.
I wondered this when he charged at me with such speed I could barely dodge him, not wishing for another metal chokehold around my throat. Somehow, I managed to grab ahold of the throwing knife at my side and sent it his way without hesitation. My ragged voice called out to him, "Sergeant Barnes-"
He evaded my weapon and outstretched another punch with his flesh arm without remorse. I blocked, not quite processing the pain of taking the hit before I moved to miss his left hook. While he shaped up for another hit, I took the opportunity to grasp onto a dagger. I dodged again before going on the offensive and swiftly catching the edge of his jaw with my blade. The Soldier didn't take a liking to his blood being shed. Within a flurry of movement, he caught my wrist with an inhuman strength. My right arm was mechanically pried back in one motion and a kick sent me flying backwards.
Every muscle of my aching body cried out in unanimous pain when my spine rammed into a stack of crates. My posture slumped awkwardly while oxygen was stripped from lungs. I suddenly inhaled to invite more in, my body shivering with intense agony from the impact. The only thing that prompted me to move was the acute adrenaline that rushed in when I realized the next hit was coming.
I fled around the corner of the stacked containers with hurt accompanying each step. I couldn't outrun the Soldier, no chance. What I could do was outmaneuver him. My actions from earlier in the fight inspired me to hastily climb atop a storage unit, my heart nearly stopping with dread when I felt an iron grip try to seize my ankle. Desperation fueled me despite my injuries and I procured another knife off of my side and slashed down towards him. I didn't wound him, but he had let go for fear of sustaining another cut.
Fast. I had to move faster. With blade still in hand, I jumped from the high point to right behind him. Paralyzing pain shot up my joints upon landing and I gritted my teeth, but still went through with my plan. Before Barnes could turn to face me, I sunk my dagger into his side and ripped it out in the same breath, "Bucky-"
A steely glare and a strike across the face from his metal arm informed me he had no recognition of the nickname. I tumbled back, skidding across the tarmac with enough force to keep me rolling for several yards. Dizziness made my head spin in unceasing circles with pain erupting with the new bruises coloring across my cheek. My pulse drummed in my skull and I struggled to get up. I balanced my weight on my arm, quivering from the hit while I watched my attacker stalk towards my floundering form.
It was only on my will alone that I tried to move away because my body definitely did not wish to. I fought against my own weakened state to attempt to get on my feet. The Soldier showed no signs of stopping. In a last ditch effort, my eyes hunted for my discarded assault rifle.
I heard something that resembled my name be yelled my way. My gaze flew to Steve and Sam as they set foot on the platform and began to sprint to my position. My dry lips parted and a mouthful of bloodied saliva was spat out when I sharply cried out, "Get to the hangar!"
Neither seemed to follow through with my plea and they paid for it. The Winter Soldier's attention moved on from me to the pair. Barnes ran with unbridled rage towards Rogers and my partner wasn't completely prepared for it. He was hit in the side with such force he broke right through a railing and flew out of sight over the edge.
A terrifying shout tore from my dry throat without thought, "Steve!"
Wilson had done the same and instantly dove to follow Roger's descent. The Soldier's grip wrapped around Wilson's left mechanical wing and yanked him back up. Sam was hurled above the helicarrier's tarmac and he recovered quickly, arming himself with twin pistols and firing both off towards Barnes. The assassin took cover from the gunfire behind a compartment.
I had gained my footing and ran to offer aide, noticing the pistol I'd lost only a moment ago not so far away. Fatigue weighed on my pace and slowed me greatly, but I relied on yet another knife as as distraction. I propelled the small projectile knowing it wouldn't do any harm and it didn't. He brought up the metal arm to shield deflect the edged weapon away. The Soldier then took it upon himself to storm my way in unrestrained pursuit.
I wouldn't have beaten him to the handgun even in prime health. Barnes kicked the pistol away and while I reached for another dagger, his fist closed around my neck for the third time in existing memory. The familiar feeling of my windpipe being choked reminded me of how terrible it was not to breathe. My bloody mouth remained open, fighting for some type of sound while I beat my fist against the assassin in hopes I'd wound him enough to free me. I was only met with a glower of cold spite emanating from blue eyes.
He did let go and my lungs were more than grateful. The problem was the Soldier dropped me off of the platform.
My fall was shorter than expected. I slammed down onto the exterior of the roaring engines that pushed the craft to a higher altitude. While Wilson soared over me with only one wing (I figured Barnes had something to do with that) I tumbled down the incline, my fate of continuing to plunge down another few hundred yards still apparent. My hands slid across the smooth surface and I dug my nails into metal, hoping to find some resistance to stop myself from slipping off another precipice.
My fingers finally clasped around a rift in the aircraft's outer design and I clutched to it. The muscles in my arms seized in exhaustion, shaking with a lack of strength while I attempted to lift myself up. The steep slope I'd have to climb to get back atop of the carrier was not one I could conquer easily.
My heart hammered against my ribcage once I realized the true danger of the situation I'd found myself in. Fear coursed through without restraint when I carefully angled my neck to look towards the ground. The relief was that I saw Sam had deployed a parachute and appeared as if he would make a safe landing. I was sure I wouldn't.
Nausea flooded into my stomach while I tried to assess my options; up or down. My sore arms continued to quiver in an effort to keep me in place. Part of my legs dangled off of the edge, the helicarrier still rising higher in the atmosphere. Time was running low.
"Sienna!"
I tipped my chin up towards the sound of my name, my core now violently shaking from the stress of hanging there for so long. Steve had managed to climb up to the platform a good fifty yards above my head and now hopefully beckoned me to follow his lead, "C'mon, you can make it."
Though I had alien energy currently pumping through my veins, I felt convinced that it wouldn't give me the super soldier capability to muster anymore strength to scale the incline. I shook my head, my will to hold onto the rift any longer dwindling with my physical ability.
If all else fails.
"Get to the hangar!" I shout over the thrum of the thrusters pushing up the carrier armed solely with hundreds of canons that would annihilate too many lives to count. A pit of regret craves into my chest when I know he alone is now the one responsible for ensuring that doesn't happen.
He appears to nod, looking to the next height he'll have to climb in order to reach the main bay. Rogers must have thought I would follow right behind him, because when I let go of the crevice with one hand, I hear dread flood his voice, "What are you doing!"
I briefly judge the distance between the ground and my position before bringing up my wrist comm, "Wilson, you're going to help me."
The static doesn't stagger the man's utterly surprised and poignant reply, "I'm going to what?!"
My fingers lose their grip on the rift. I barely have time to holler back up to Steve after I begin to plummet down, "Trust me!"
is this chapter late as always? of course. is the ending rushed? what else do you expect it's 11:40 pm and i currently hate myself for posting this with only semi-editing
it's not an unseen avenger book if sienna doesn't fall dramatically from really high up AT LEAST once. at this point it's practically obligatory. and if you guys remember her practical 'ah i'm falling again' move, then you know she won't go straight down without a little help because our girl always has a plan before she hits the ground
you may also be wondering, who the hell is bradley talking to?????? i can't reveal much, but she is the woman you see way way wayyyyyy in the beginning of this book in chapter one anddd the manifest number is significant. that's all i can say for now.
why didn't i have si fight bucky with steve?? why is bradley still relevant?? what's in the vial?? where are layla and z?? what has this entire book been leading up to??
so expect that maybe next sunday??
adios for now!