Tick, tock. Beep, boop. Step by step, beat by beat, sounds of progress echoed throughout the many halls of the resistance without halt. The structure was indeed very impressive; especially once one had enough time to take it all in. Many, many caves and routes led into twisted, winding hallways of stone, all labelled for practicality. These labels ranged from ‘A-1’ to ‘M-8’, as far as Watson could see, a small indication of the true size of the facility. Wires were run from wall to wall, ceiling from ceiling, and men and women of all vocations, but an equal sense of purpose, roamed the structure freely.
Watson sat at the cafeteria, a rather large room with chairs and tables strewn about lazily. He sat at shady corner, sitting by a large bright-red wooden table, sipping on a cup of steaming Chamomile tea. He ruffled his hair in frustration and indecision, staring silently at the softly pulsing pen.
Suddenly, Jones popped his head inside, followed by Lisa, the leader of the revolutionaries. He quickly tucked the pen inside his pocket.
“So here you are, Watson!” Jones yelled excitedly, waving his arm wildly. “Damn. You look down in the dumps.”
“Eh… Do I?” Watson asked, staring blankly at Jones.
“Yeah. You got that look in your eyes… Same look you gave me after I blew up that shitty car.” Jones stated, contemplating. “So… Well, I’ve heard from Lisa here what’s been goin’ on.”
“Did you now.”
“Yup. Good to hear, really- so your relatives weren’t pussies after all. Didn’t expect that from a Brit. But guess that means you’ve got some hope too, huh?” Jones smirked, and patted Watson’s back.
Lisa punched Jones in the gut and coughed loudly.
“Ow! Jesus, woman. What do you want me to say to the guy? ‘Hey Watson, sorry your grandpa got killed doing something good. You want a joint?’” Jones asked, disgruntled. “That’s not gonna do shit-”
She punched him again. Watson chortled slightly.
“Ow! I get it. Violent, aren’t ya?” Jones exclaimed. “Anyways… I’ve been on a tour, Watson. This is some amazing shit they got down here. Hell, they’ve got an air hockey table!”
“Do they now…” Watson said, trailing off. He looked at Jones with a hint of amusement. “Is that what you’ve been up to?”
“Well, now you look slightly better. Not as good as me, obviously…” Jones chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve been lookin’ around the place. Fantastic stuff. I think we can really get things going.”
“What stuff?” Watson asked, his voice tinged with a slight sense of guilt and worry.
“Breaking the Conditioning, obviously!” Jones triumphantly proclaimed, straightening his back to strike a fabulous pose.
“Any idea what he means by that, Mr. Watson?” Lisa interjected, grinning at Watson. “He’s told that to at least half our staff by now, I’m certain.”
“Uh… I’m still not sure. Sorry.” Watson replied with a forced smile. “He does say that often.”
“Because that’s what we’re gonna’ do.” Jones stated with a smile. “Anyways… Let’s get back on track. Watson, I- well, we- she insisted- are here to give you the good news.”
“What good news?” Watson asked in curiosity.
“They’re takin’ us out on a mission.” Jones excitedly answered. “Something came up, apparently. She told me all about it.”
“Wh- what mission?” Watson stuttered.
“Let me explain.” Lisa stated with a professional demeanor. “There was a scheduled strike on a possible Lizardman outpost to the northwest due tomorrow, but in light of current circumstances-” She glanced at Jones. “We’ve decided to push it ahead to… 19:00 PDT. That’s when nightfall should begin.”
“19:00 PDT? Isn’t that in…” Watson counted.
“Three hours. Yes.” Lisa finished. “We’ll be ready by then. We expect you two to join us.”
“Ain’t that exciting, Watson?” Jones exclaimed, giving Lisa a stealthy glance.
“But- Um…” Watson stumbled over his own words. “I mean… I don’t feel ready. Could I just… sit this one out?”
“Well, Jones insisted that you’d be made a part of the team. Rather strongly, in fact.” Lisa explained calmly. “I agreed- I think you’d make an excellent part of our unit, Mr. Watson. I agreed wholeheartedly in his assessment, and I too insist you join.”
“What? Why?” Watson shouted in disbelief. “What value could I provide?”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Watson.” Jones patted Watson’s back. “I’d really appreciate your backup.”
“Backup-? Do you realize what I’ve-” Watson began preparing to argue.
“I’m certain he’d want you there for his safety.” Lisa addressed, cutting him short. “And I’ve heard the stories to understand your… Indecision, but I insist rather strongly too. I believe in your potential, Mr. Watson.”
“What potential?” Watson continued, baffled by the proposition. “You can’t just force me to peddle along with you!”
“We’re rather stuck with you coming along, Mr. Watson.” Lisa coldly explained. “Jones said he’d decline to join without you, and he is very much central to the operation.”
“So just take him! Or, we’ll just both not go. Problem solved.” Watson argued desperately. He fidgeted nervously in place as he felt the pen continue to vibrate.
“Ack, come the hell on, Watson.” Jones shrugged. “It’s routine by now, isn’t it?”
“Don’t you get me started on that…” Watson mumbled.
“Look, Watson.” Lisa said, grabbing Watson by his arms. She stared deeply into his eyes. “We need you. You’ll be kept perfectly safe- I promise that much. And let me tell you…”
“You’ll find this operation very much aligned to your interests.” She concluded with a reassuring smile.
“I… I…” Watson sighed. “So I don’t get a say in this.”
“Well…” Jones trailed off.
“So that’s it then.” Watson resigned. “I’ll come with you.”
----------------------------------------
The small caravan looked like a mishmash dystopian novel rejects. A punked-up monster truck led the charge, a handful of completely impractical ramming spikes attached to the front. Roughly three dozen well-geared men sat within trucks painted in tacticool colors, the ‘cool’ part emphasized over the tactical. The revolutionaries themselves fared no better- from the Punk Quartet to a Three Musketeers fanclub, the entire set of fighters were dressed in outlandish outfits. It seemed nobody had received education about conspicuousness, but perhaps that was intentional. Nobody could differentiate them from a band of rebels and a bunch of Neckbeard LARPers, after all.
Jones and Watson were following suit at the trail-end, both sitting uncomfortably in their cranky British Leyland car, their crummy old tires now switched out for ones suitable for the harsh desert planes. Jones had forcibly jolted the stereo up to the maximum, torturing many a poor souls with Watson’s awful collection of music.
Watson nervously tapped the steering wheel as he mindlessly followed the other cars.
“Finally. Some alone time.” Jones sighed, as he finished checking the car for bugs. “Those freaks wouldn’t let me out of their sights the entire time.”
“I can barely hear you.” Watson replied loudly. “Can I crank down the stereo?”
“No. It’s so that they can’t hear us.” Jones explained. “And maybe this’ll pop their eardrums. God knows I wish it did.”
“Thanks.” Watson answered, confused. “I thought you were getting along with them?”
“Ack, with those idiots? Please.” Jones snorted. “I don’t trust a single one of em’.”
“What makes you say that?” Watson shouted, as the music crescendoed. “Why would you make me go along with this, too, then?”
“I needed backup, obviously.” Jones yelled, as if it were the most natural answer in the world. “I don’t get your bitching, Watson. This ain’t nearly as bad as the shit we’ve already been through.”
“Well-” Watson started, feeling the pulsing in his chest pocket. “I- just don’t feel good about this stuff anymore.”
“You’ll be safe, Watson. Like you’ve always been.” Jones said.
“Thanks.” Watson curtly replied, fidgeting around in his seat. “So… Why did you agree to this?”
“Well… Actually, I needed to talk to you a bit about that.” Jones stated. “Did you tell them anything about me?”
“Um… A little bit. Like what we’ve been fighting.” Watson recounted nervously.
“Yeah. I don’t like the way they look at me.” Jones explained. “I’ve seen it plenty before. I’m guessin’ they don’t trust me either.”
“What makes you say that?”
“They had someone shadow me into the shitter.” Jones confidently stated. “I mean, how much more obvious does it get?”
“Um… Are you sure it wasn’t just a coincidence?” Watson questioned.
“Hell no! Besides, there’s been at least one person following me, wherever I go.” Jones continued. “This is legit the first time I get to speak to you alone since we arrived here.”
“So… What do you mean by backup?” Watson asked nervously.
“Well…” Jones started. “I don’t trust these assholes, and I’ve got some measures in place…”
“But I’d feel more safe knowing someone’s got my back.” Jones concluded. “I’m still pretty sure you ain’t very trustable, either, but… Here. It’s a bullet.”
Jones handed a single round of .45 ACP to Watson casually.
Watson nearly crashed the car as he failed to catch the round and fumbled. “How-?”
“It was on a table somewhere. I snatched it. Figured it’d be useful, anyhow.” Jones grinned. “It should fit your gun just right.”
“I, um…” Watson babbled on, averting Jones’s gaze. “I- um… Don’t… Feel safe holding this.”
“Well, you better should get used to it, then.” Jones snorted. “I’m sure you’ll have to load lots more in there sometime.”
“I…”
“Ack, stop complaining, Watson. At least hold on to the damn bullet. It won’t explode in your face, I promise.” Watson grunted.
“Alright…” Watson replied, as he pulled out his well-holstered pistol, feeling the rough engraving of his grandfather as he gripped it tightly, feeling a tinge of guilt.
----------------------------------------
The caravan arrived at a faraway destination, a rather large cave opening protruding from an otherwise insignificant hillscape. There was nothing in the distance- nothing to be seen of note. This was truly in the middle of nowhere. The cave itself wasn’t remarkable either. It was just a huge hole, big enough for the five cars to easily park inside, hidden from the outside as the entrance sloped downwards. The cave stretched on and on, the insides dark and dreary.
Everyone stepped out of their cars, and Jones got a good look at the ensemble of clowns and idiots. All-in-all, decently well armed, with most carrying a rifle of sorts. He glanced around, looking alarmed as ever.
He stuck with Watson.
The duo followed as Lisa gestured them to stick behind her, and they slowly descended into the cave. A coupled of sentries were left behind. They marched onwards silently, as Jones kept glancing backwards every minute or two. All the other rejects followed behind the duo, intently gazing at their backs.
Suddenly, Jones swiftly pulled out a crude pistol from his pants, and pointed it at Lisa’s skull.
Everyone besides Watson and Lisa instantly pointed their firearms at Jones, their eyes gleaming with malice and intent. Watson was too stunned to react and could only gape his mouth. Lisa turned around with an all-knowing grimace on her face.
“Finally, you show your true colors.” Lisa sighed, as she raised her hand up. She didn’t look terribly disappointed- in fact, she seemed to be wholly prepared for this outcome.
“What-” Watson stuttered, choking on his own words in shock.
“Back to you, darling.” Jones smirked. “I knew something was up. This ain’t a base, is it? No guards posted outside… No tire tracks in the sand. Not to mention the suspiciously small team you’ve brought with you.”
“Well, the gig is up, isn’t it?” Lisa chuckled. “Great deduction. I give you fifteen points. I didn’t expect the firearm, but you’ve performed as expected.”
“Sort those to Ravenclaw.” Jones snorted. “Tell your boys to always check under the ballsack.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“W- what’s going on?” Watson finally brought out, reeling from the surprise.
“Well, basically…” Jones calmly explained. “This bitch set us up.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Lisa sighed. “Mr. Watson- do me a favor, and pay attention.”
“Me?” Watson asked in shock.
“Yes. Because this is going to be very important.” Lisa stared at Jones intently. “You’re perfectly safe, don’t you worry. We’re here because you’ve been fed yet another lie.”
“And what would that be? His Cadillac was secretly a chinese knockoff?” Jones chuckled, keeping his weapon raised.
“We’re here to reveal the identity of this Jones.” Lisa said with disgust. “He’s a spy.”
“What?” Watson asked, dumbfounded by the revelation.
Jones stared blankly at Lisa, himself surprised at this revelation.
“Yes. Think about it, Watson!” She claimed vigorously. “A stranger without a last name shows up in the middle of the desert, fully knowing all about the enemy’s existence. No ID, no residence, and no papers…”
“And armed with enough knowledge to make bombs, flashbangs, connect to the Lizardmen network…” She continued confidently. “Don’t you smell the rat?”
“What the fuck are you smoking?” Jones yelled, his finger twitching. “Have you forgotten the part where I killed three of the Lizardmen fuckers?”
“A small sacrifice to snuff out the resistance.” She scoffed. “You think we haven’t encountered your kind before, Vermin? This isn’t the first time we’ve fought a Chameleon.”
“A… Chameleon?” Watson asked, befuddled.
“Yes. A Chameleon. Shapeshifter Lizards. Their top spies.” She chuckled. “And we’ve caught one, right here. Hell, we’ve got evidence to back it up!”
She was interrupted by Jones’s maniacal cackling.
“I see what the fish is.” Jones continued laughing. “So you’ve all been set up? Let me guess, you’re the real spy here, aren’t you?”
“Nice try, scum-” Lisa started.
“Watson, don’t listen to the scaley piece of shit!” Jones shouted. “She’s obviously one of their agents.”
“Hah, don’t even start.” She coughed. “It’s not just all of that, you stupid little pea-for-brains.”
“What’s your evidence then, Kim-Jong-Un?” Jones asked.
“Well, scum, you may not expect this, but we monitor radio traffic.” Lisa explained. “Since the moment you arrived, we determined an identifiable source of outgoing communications. You’ve been carrying a transmitter, haven’t you?” She triumphantly stated.
Watson’s heart slumped.
“The fuck are you on about?” Jones shouted. “I wasn’t carrying shit. Besides the pistol.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ve caught you red-handed, Spy.” Lisa yelled back. “I’ll bet there’s more stuffed under that ballsack of yours. Or maybe it’s up you ass, if that’s your preference.”
Watson watched helplessly as the two exchanged one insult after another, a group of tense revolutionaries sweating as they gripped the trigger tensely. His heartbeat rose and rose, and his pulse thumped loudly inside his ear. His stomach was filled with a sensation of dread and guilt that had been building up for the past few hours, and tears began filling his eyes.
Plagued by indecision, he continued to be a bystander. The tension rose and rose, and yet he couldn’t do a thing about it. His ears turned red in shame as his face flustered.
Then his hand brushed against his holster.
Feeling a nostalgic sensation in his heart, he gripped the pistol tightly. A warm face greeted his memories as he ran his fingers against the engraving.
Watson gulped.
“...Yeah, well fuck you too, you hag. No man would touch you with a ten-foot-long pole.” Jones shouted angrily.
“You’d know about that, wouldn't you? Can’t imagine any guys wanting you, either.” Lisa retorted in kind, her face now scrunched up in anger. “Just surrender already. Maybe we’ll be nice and throw you in the freezer instead of the soup.”
“All bark and no bite.” Jones smirked, holding his gun with both of his hands. “If that’s what you’re gonna do, then fucking do it. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Don’t you even think you can negotiate like that with me.” Lisa yelled, confidently walking up to Jones, presenting her temple in a clear line of sight to him. “Go on, pull the trigger. Let’s see what happens afterwards.”
“You really think I won’t?” Jones shouted back.
“Confident!” She retorted.
“I’m going to fucking do it, then!” Jones screamed, his finger tensing.
“Stop!” Watson shouted, using up all the courage he’d built up.
The two faced him instantly as the tension died down.
“I… Well… Um…” Watson huffed, as his floodgates opened. “Don’t.”
“Why’re you crying, Mr. Watson?” Lisa asked, confused, still keeping an eye out on Jones. “You’ll be safe after we’ve dealt with this Vermin shortly.”
“You really wanna go there?” Jones snorted.
“Don’t… Please.” Watson cried. “I’ll... come... clean.”
“What?” Lisa asked, stunned by his proclamation.
“It’s not him.” Watson continued, choking up. “The transmitter… It’s mine.”
“What?” Jones yelled, turning to Watson in surprise.
“I… I…” Watson muttered. “While he was taking a break… He offered me a way out.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Lisa said, looking dumbfounded.
“He said… They’d take care of me.” Watson sniffled. “I… I just wanted to go back…”
“He sent me this.” Watson continued, pulling out the pulsing metal pen. “He… He told me it’d only transmit when I click it after twisting the cap…”
“He lied, obviously.” Lisa said, her face still frozen in shock. She slowly approached Watson, too the pen from his hands, and crushed it under her feet.
“I… I didn’t know.” Watson explained.
“Watson.” Jones paused. “Are you retarded?”
“I can’t believe this.” Lisa mumbled to herself. “And I thought…”
One of the revolutionaries spoke up. “Uh, Sir?” He said. “What should we do?”
“Keep your weapons raised, for now.” She sighed. “Point at both of them.”
They obeyed with some discord amongst the group.
“Now, what do we do with you…” She softly continued, picking up from before the shocker.
“Well, my pistol’s still raised…” Jones argued.
“I thought we both established what’s going to happen afterwards?” She said dissatisfied. “But this really threw a wrench in my plans.”
“Um…” Watson said, still sniffling. “Is there… No peaceful solution?”
“Well, it would’ve ended very peacefully for you.” Lisa stated, her face displaying her obvious disappointment. “I thought at least you were trustable. Now we’re at a crossroads.”
“And that would be?” Jones asked.
“Well, I’m not sure about anything.” Lisa explained calmly. “There’s a good chance either- or both of your are spies. In which case, shooting you is the safe bet.”
Watson fidgeted around nervously.
“But you could both be clean.” Lisa admitted. “And in that case… Your skills could be very useful.”
“Now that sounds more like it.” Jones chuckled, still not lowering his arm.
“I’m just not sure.” She continued.
Suddenly, a sentry stormed downhill, running with the fury of a thousand suns.
“Sir!” He said in-between huffs. “I’ve- report- from above-ground…”
“Slow down, cadet.” Lisa commandeered. “Soldiers, keep your guns raised. Sentry, explain to me what’s going on.”
The grunts all saluted.
“S-sir!” The sentry yelled, calming himself down. “We’ve a report from above-ground. Enemy activity.”
“Shit.” Lisa cursed. “Explain.”
“There was a large sandcloud… So Terry took a look with his telescope.” He continued. “Four confirmed vehicles, all Humvees. Species unknown, but we suspect it’s mostly a group of Iguanas. Probably scouts or an independent military unit.”
“Iguanas…” She repeated. “Just our fucking luck.”
The bad news brought obvious change into the room as the faces of the grunts shifted from determined, to confused, to varying degrees of despair or chaos. Some even lowered their rifles, speaking loudly about their fears in lieu of performing their duty. Lisa looked not much better, her face darkened by the reveal.
Suddenly, Jones began laughing again, now lowering his firearm.
“What’s so funny?” Lisa turned to ask. The grunts stared at each other in confusion.
“It’s just so perfect, the timing.” Jones howled, holding his tummy as he kept laughing. “I’ve found a solution for the both of us, Commander.”
“Explain.” Lisa asked sternly.
“Well, we don’t trust each other.” Jones grinned. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t fix that, but we can leave that aside for now.”
“And how do you propose that?” Lisa asked.
“What else to bring a community together than fighting a common enemy?” He asked.
“You’re suggesting…” Lisa confirmed.
“Yes. Let’s put the guns down, peeps. We’re dealing with the Lizards first.” Jones smiled. “I’ll sweeten the pot for ya.”
“How?”
“This dumbass will take the most important role.” Jones smirked, pointing at Watson.
“Me?” Watson asked in surprise.
“Yes, you, you idiot.” Jones sighed. “You fucked up, Watson. Time to own it up.”
“But…” Watson mumbled in fear.
“No more buts, asshole.” Jones shut him up.
“You even got a plan?” Lisa asked, considering his idea.
“Well, no, I was kinda hoping you’d help me make one…” Jones suggested.
----------------------------------------
The two were alone by the cave’s entrance, a cool breeze climbing up the hilly slope of the caverns. Watson strapped himself in the passenger's seat, breathing in-and-out in an effort to calm himself. It hadn’t helped until now, but he couldn’t think of any other ways to not die of an heart attack. He watched as Jones slowly approached the car and opened the glovebox. He pulled out a large bag of a flowery green substance.
“I thought you gave it all to the guards earlier.” Watson asked, still huffing and puffing.
“I gave them a bag full of dried grass and moss. This is the real thing.” Jones explained.
Watson watched as Jones topped a large pile of books, papers and wood with the large pile of weed and poured can after can of lighter fluid atop.
“Remind me.” Watson asked nervously. “How’s this plan going to work again?”
“Again, Watson?” Jones sighed.
“Come on, please.” Watson pleaded.
“So look.” Jones tapped Watson’s temple, and then pointed at the pile. “ Apparently Iguanas have large-ass lungs, so they’re susceptible to smells and smoke.”
“I gathered all the Weed and the burnables we had, and we’re making a huge-ass fire with those.” He continued. “The cave lets out a draft, so the weed-smoke gets carried down.”
“The others all exit via a secondary entrance.” He finalized. “We run distraction duty with the smoke while they position themselves for the offensive by flanking.”
“What if… They abandon us?”
“They can’t. Miles and miles of no cover. It’s do or die here.” Jones smirked. “You really think I’d run with a plan relying on others playing nice and fair?”
“No.” Watson mumbled.
“Also, take these.” Jones said, throwing a bundle of red sticks on Watson’s lap.
“What are these?” Watson asked, confused.
“Flares. You’ll need them for marking.” Jones grinned. “Most important job of the operation, remember?”
“Oh god…” Watson muttered helplessly.
“Well, let’s rock and roll then, shall we?” Jones said, throwing a match onto the pile.
----------------------------------------
The Lizardmen stared down the opening in the distance, the Iguanas holding formation, using their bulletproof doors as cover. They held their oversized, overcomplicated rifles, watching intently for any movement. They’d been instructed to shoot on sight, and they were very intent on doing exactly that. Their commander sat in a cushy, custom Humvee behind the firing squad, sipping from a large mug, tapping away impatiently for some action to occur.
Suddenly, the cave entrance was enveloped in a thick fog as a white gas began leaking out rapidly from the ghastly opening. Like a tidal wave, the smoke began spreading out downhill, within minutes reaching the confused firing squad. They weren’t terribly shaken, as their eyesight was great in comparison to some puny humans. But they did tense up in anticipation.
As the fog surrounded the Lizardmen soldiers, a sudden vroom of an engine snapped the soldiers back to focus. For a moment, the Lizardmen could make out a yellow wagon jolting vigorously out of the cave’s mouth, the car disappearing into the smoke as suddenly as it came. Even with their improved vision, they could only make out trace signs of the car swerving left and right, the squads firing in disarray in an attempt to bring the vehicle down.
But the car persisted. A couple shots did respond with a confident clang, but the enemy kept dancing around, drifting in an unpredictable, incredibly distracting way. What didn’t help was the effect the smoke had on the Soldiers. Many began coughing, and some newbies even began laughing their guts out. The unaffected ones noticed that the car has been approaching them slowly. Unexpectedly, a shivering hand popped out of the passenger’s window and threw a red rod at them. The closest Lizardmen retreated into the car in anticipation.
But that was no explosive. Instead, the flare ignited, releasing a blinding red light.
A hail of bullets rained upon the Lizardmen from unexpected directions and all hell broke loose.
----------------------------------------
“It’s working!” Jones shouted, still maniacally dancing and swerving around the Lizardmen soldiers.
“Ahh!” Watson yelled. He didn’t stop- ever. Terrified, Watson refused to even open his eyes.
The Lizardmen were in disarray. They didn’t know where to fire- and the ones that did, couldn’t get a clear shot. The difference in numbers made all the difference, it seemed. Jones could make out small fragments of yelling and shouting from their direction, but it was interrupted by the hail of bullets raining upon them.
He continued swerving, looking for some way to participate in the battle. It would be very dangerous to get any closer to the firing squad, as the revolutionaries fired rather indiscriminately. The plan was to get a flare inside, so that they had a general direction to fire towards, and that meant they sacrificed accuracy.
Jones watched as the survivors banded together, some managing to move their cars to create a more effective cover. He gazed intently at an especially large specimen, as it suspiciously motioned towards the trunk, opting to simply rip the metal open.
He stared in awe as some odd contraption- a long, black metal tube was pulled out.
Not knowing what to expect, he watched as the trigger was pulled. A bright, brilliant purple laser beam shot forth in the direction of the revolutionaries, failing to hit them, but clearing the fog ahead in a single move.
The tube seemed to have a consequence, however, as the creature howled in agony as his shoulder flopped like jello, most likely pulverized from the recoil.
Jones watch in horror as another pulled out a second metal tube, this time clearly aiming at the revolutionaries. But fortunately…
He swerved, and drove head-first into the fire, suffering a friendly fire on his shoulder as he crashed into the artillery Lizardman.
----------------------------------------
The aftermath of combat was brutal. Lisa stared at the wreckage left by the hundreds of bullets shot, thousands of metal scraps and glass shards littering the blood-stained floor.
Her losses were minimal- only one had died from a stray bullet. Ten had been injured, but they weren’t in immediate danger. She finally sighed in relief, knowing that the battle had been won.
But there was still work to do.
Two Lizardmen were captured in surrender. They were both seething in anger, and were an absolute pain in the ass to tie down properly. She hated questioning the Lizardmen; it rarely proved successful.
But most importantly, she had a coward and an asshole to attend to.
“So.” Lisa said. “We’ve won.”
“Of course we did.” Jones smirked. One of her subordinates was attending to his shoulder injury. “Ow! Can’t you be a bit more gentle?”
She glanced at Watson, who stood behind his bullet-hosed car, hunch-backed and puking.
She sighed once more. “Negotiations are in order.” She stated.
“I better get a good deal on insurance.” Jones smirked smugly. “Heard we ain’t got Obamacare here.”
“Enough with the Jokes, Jones.” She said, annoyed. “I don’t even get them. The hell’s an Obamacare?”
“Nothing important.” Jones waved away.
“Let’s get back on topic.” She continued. “I get it. You’re probably not spies.”
“You sure?” Jones asked sarcastically. “Wanna check if I’ve got a slit instead of a ballsack?”
“How charming.” Lisa snorted. “But we’re still not a hundred percent with you.”
“Neither are we.” Jones retorted.
“Yes.” She confirmed. “But as you said… Common enemies. I thought it over. We could definitely use your help.”
“Glad to hear that.” Jones replied smugly.
“We needed more undercover, more… Independent agents.” She continued. “And you two could fit the bill perfectly.”
“What’s the catch?” Jones asked with a serious voice.
“We’ll assign you to a low-priority mission first. It’s important, but not really top right now.” She replied. “If you do well, then you’ve got a long career ahead of you.”
“Sounds good.” Jones affirmed. “And in return?”
“Well, assuming you’re saying what we think you’re saying...” Lisa trailed off. “The resistance welcomes and supports you in… Breaking the Conditioning.”