No, warfare and fighting is the only way we can get our message across. We need violence. Without it we'd be nothing. Get it now?
-Travis Mays, 2013
Lexy sat in the back of the taxi, her nerves on the edge. She felt uneasy, for some strange reason. Her instincts told her something was wrong. And the only thing Lexy ever trusted was her instincts.
"I said pull over!"
The driver looked through her mirror, a bit uneasy.
Mali pulled over, and Lexy jumped out immediately.
The wind blew harshly that day, little raindrops started sprinkling down. Lexy made way for her suitcases.
"Sorry ma'am, I can't let you have those." The taxi driver said hastily, putting her hand over the trunks.
Lexy raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely up. "Why?"
"I need to deliver them to your hotel myself."
"Letter from your boss."
"I'm not staying at a hotel, and I have no 'boss'."
Mali paused. Then, she grabbed the cases and started sprinting. And damn she was fast.
But Lexy had a shot, better and faster than any human or robotic legs in the universe.
The pistol was out and armed as soon as Mali sprinted past the street sign. The first shot was a ricochet off the metal label.
Realizing that Mali would get away with her cases, Lexy ran, bolted straight after her behind the corner.
The trunks were left there, intact.
Lexy ruffled through the contents. None missing. No evidence of anyone looking at them either, and she wouldn't the time to do so. It's been 3 minutes only, damnit.
She'd get a fingerprint test later on the documents and jewelry and such, but Lexy highly doubted that taxi driver was hired to mug her. She was probably a loser amateur, who couldn't even fire a glock 19.
Never minding that, Lexy looked around. The rain was starting up a storm, she and her trunks would get wet if she stayed.
There were no drivers out. There were no doors open. Lexy cursed her bad luck, while she picked up her bags and started walking towards her hotel.
Her room at the hotel was luxurious, with rich fabrics and hand-crafted antiques. It was a little small, 3 rooms in all including the bathroom, but in a right, snug way. The balcony overlooked the bright city, with a small porch swing for the perfect view.
Her bags were up ahead before her, and now Lexy was drying out her hair and looking through the glass that led to fresh air.
The city of Callinile at sunset was breathtaking, with it's shining lights gleaming and the sky making the show of the day, before darkness took hold of the entire upper visible universe.
Lexy poured herself some coffee and sat on the porch swing. Eyes on the sky, her mind was twisting itself around things.
Now that all the "action" was over, Lexy finally concentrated on the meaning of the events.
Was that fake-mug bad luck or was it planned? Had she gone into the wrong cab? No, the pilot himself told her which car. Had the pilot been a part of it or did Mali jump the original taxi driver? If the pilot was a part of it, why hadn't he checked the trunks in the beginning? If Mali forcefully took the car, where was the original driver? All the clues, the questions clicked back and forth through her quick mind until she got the answer. Lexy got out her phone.
"CROY!!!!" She barked into the cellular device.
"I see you're doing well."
"I hate you."
"Why? What on Earth did I do?"
"You know what you did!"
"Don't play innocent!"
"It was the pilots idea! I just okayed it!"
"Well fuck both of you. You all suck."
"It was funny though......"
"Subject change. How did you know Callinile was the city to go to?"
Croy hung up straight after.
Lexy sighed. All those events for nothing. But something was up. Why did the pilot want to play that "trick" on her?
Getting up, setting her nearly empty coffee cup on the nightstand, she inspected thoroughly her trunks. What was that attached to the bottom of the lock?
Lexy got up her phone again. "Croy you've got a traitor."