Chapter 62: You’re Proving Your Worth
Some racist speech in this chapter. The views expressed are NOT my own.
This chapter starts a week after “The Gossip says. . . “
Joe’s POV
I finally have proof Mañoso is trying to have me killed.
After two successful months in Delaware, he’s stuck me in Charlotte under a new name, with new credentials and rough intel. Basically, I have two feebs, Mason and Jackson, who he has confirmed are hiding a major gangbanger in witness protection. The guy was taking kickbacks from MS-13 and allowed them to mow down his entire gang. Jesus, a snitch. Wonderful. He needs me to get them talking about it on tape.
Suicide mission, anyone?
I’m working with Ana DiBardino, one of the two women I was eyeing hardest that first week in Fairfax. She’s a member of the task force but I know I won’t touch her; I suspect both targets have already had her, so either she has no discretion or she has no taste. I’ll give her credit though; we’ve only been here one week. She moves fast. If she wants to throw her career away, fine but leave me out of it.
Today we’re working with the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Vice and Narc units on a sting operation as outside consultants. This is a first and it’s interesting. I know Mañoso does this for TPD on a regular basis and I’ve often wondered what it’s like to be on the other side of the blue wall. Like TPD does to Mañoso (for so many reasons), the CMPD Vice and Narc units are looking at me and DiBardino like we’re leeches. I completely understand why. For the first time, I get to stand in the back and tell them how they should be doing what they’re trained and prepped to do, and in the end, I don’t have to put my ass on the line to follow some consultant’s ‘suggestions’.
Liberating experience. If only these guys knew exactly how much experience I have at this.
The moment I have that thought, I wonder if that’s what Mañoso thinks every time he watches TPD. We’re no idiots at the station; we know that if we left Mañoso and his crew to affect entry and recovery at some of our scenes, it would be done in half the time with much better weaponry and no injuries. Whether or not the suspect lived is entirely up in the air, but I suspect he would; Mañoso is notorious for hating paperwork.
“Jordan?” DiBardino purrs. She’s still trying to get into my pants. I miss Cupcake.
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t spotted our targets yet, have you?”
I glare at her. “No.” No, you idiot and I won’t talk about them in public. We don’t know these cops. Quit putting our lives on the line. Jesus, you’re as naive as Cupcake at a scene. Don’t you know when to shut up?
Now I feel like an ass. I remember Mañoso’s words in Miami, about how he doesn’t worry about losing her to me because I don’t support her, because I’m an ass. I thought he was being an ass but maybe not. I need to support Cupcake more, even mentally. I do love her and I’m tired of Mañoso’s words running around in my head.
My short answer has irritated DiBardino, who decides to go work her magic on the officers. Fine. I head to the SWAT team. Always better to talk to the men on the ground. The closer I get, the more they shut up until they finally stand in silence once I reach them.
“I have nothing to say and no advice to give you,” I tell them. A few nod. “I had to move from my partner. She has all this well-meaning advice she wants to spout, but I figure any man in SWAT with a Sig Sauer and a 50 round rifle better know what he’s doing. And if he doesn’t, his team better shoot him before he gets too far.”
Gallows humor always does the trick. The SWAT team laughs and I can introduce myself. I reiterate that I have no advice and no suggestions. I’m going to back away and let the men with training do their thing. This treatment is appreciated and I do exactly what I say I will.
The capture goes off without a hitch.
A month later, I’m finally close enough to the CMPD guys to be included in the true planning discussions. They’ve investigated my background and I’ve come up clean. They talked to my former ‘coworkers’ and ‘superiors’ and they feel confident enough in my (fake) identity to start talking. DiBardino is pretty much the office handle at this point and she’s getting nowhere.
I wonder which RangeMen are my ‘co-workers’ and ‘superiors’.
Today’s planning session is interesting. The CMPD task force is hitting the streets to get more information about a rumored gang war and I’ve been called in as an expert for the fifth time. Again, my Trenton experience at this is really making me look good. I’ve been able to give them some good advice, which they’ve followed, and they’ve been able to round up quite a few gang members already.
“Current target is a guy by the name of Reynaldo Gomez. He’s a Latin King, you know, ALKN, and he’s with the Marshals. We’re trying to get a bead on what he’s here for and what he did to be hiding in our jurisdiction. We know he’s connected to this .”
The pictures are passed around and it’s a bloodbath. At least 15 bodies on the ground.
“This is minor casualties for a showdown between ALKN and MS-13. A hit squad was dispatched in advance to catch Mr. Gomez in retaliation. Problem is we don’t know which side ordered the hit. The Marshals in charge are requesting assistance in establishing cover while they move him to a new location. Apparently, he fears someone named Asesino getting close. So that’s another angle. We need to find out more about Asesino, who he is, where he is and what his movements are. If he’s in our area, we detain him.”
More pictures are passed around and I nearly swallow my tongue. Shit! I’m able to identify Asesino in the group photos. Hector Gutierrez, architect of the Trenton Massacre. Still spoken of in capital letters because it was clean, efficient, and completely ruthless. It’s still officially unsolved and it probably never will be. He left no trace at any scene. Hell, he’s only a suspect through hearsay and speculation. He’s one of Mañoso’s and is considered a legend up and down the East Coast. The Miami guys spoke of him like they spoke of Mañoso. With reverence. With pride. With absolute terror.
I wonder how much time he spends with Steph. She thinks it’s unfair that I look at the men and see the Jersey Penal but hell! Gutierrez? Are you fucking kidding me? Gutierrez as a killer outweighs all the military men she says are in the branch.
Un-freakin’-believable. Only Mañoso would put a known killer at Cupcake’s back. You know, when he isn’t serving in the position himself.
Do I tell Mañoso his man is under investigation or not?
The rest of the briefing discussion is agent assignments and we’re dismissed. DiBardino immediately makes a bead for me. She’s excited.
“I got Jackson talking. They have their guy set up on the east side of Charlotte. He, the guy, really wants to leave the East Coast. Whoever this Asesino guy is some scary guy and they’re saying he’s getting ridiculously paranoid.”
“When did you find this out?”
“Last night, over dinner.” She’s smug now, examining her fingernails. What? So you kept your clothes on to find that out. What did you learn once you stripped?
“When were you gonna tell me?”
She scowls. “Whenever you got the stick in your ass unstuck. Leave off! I haven’t even told Aguilar yet.”
Great. I’ll let him know that.
“Aguilar.”
“Jordan.”
“I have news. Major gang fight went down in Atlanta. At least 15 dead and the architect is under protective custody. Word is the feds are looking to move one Reynaldo Gomez, currently camped on the east side of Charlotte. He’s somehow learned that a hit squad was dispatched after him and he’s getting paranoid, according to the men here.”
Silence on the line. Apparently I haven’t said anything interesting yet.
“More importantly he’s freaked about some guy named Asesino finding him and he wants off the entire East Coast. Well, according to DiBardino. She had dinner with her target and found that out.”
Silence. Shit, what does it take to get a response?
“Weird thing. I saw this Asesino guy in some group shots they had. Looked a lot like your guy Hector.”
No fucking response. Hello? Am I talking to dead air?
“Was DiBardino wired?”
“Don’t know.”
Silence. Then, “Get close to Mason. He’s a gambler and is in debt. Take him gambling and out to see the girls and get him drunk. Slip him tequila after a few shots of vodka. He should flow after that. The Marshals aren’t going to give you any information but if they’re still allowing Mason and Jackson contact with the target then that’s a weak link.”
“Asesino?” Come on, just confirm that Hector’s a killer for me. I just need to satisfy my curiosity.
“Not your target.”
Asshole.
Mañoso’s information is always correct. Mason could drink a man under the table, but he’s very careful about his drinks. I haven’t been able to slip him the tequila yet. Finally, I call for a silver tequila and start passing those shots to him. I’m stunned by what I get.
It’s a multi-level sting. They intend to flip Gomez and charge him at some point but they can’t do it until they get the info they need on Rogelio Martinez, a major level drug dealer in Miami. The problem: He’s got serious protection. Someone named Asesino and another guy, el Tigre, and el Tigre is former Special Forces. Major level enforcer. Works for the feds and they’re sick of not being able to take Martinez down. They’re sick of him, el Tigre, playing both sides.
So they’ll take down a major consultant too, if they can. Just to get this guy.
Holy shit. I know who Asesino is. El Tigre must be Mañoso. He’s pissed off someone at the highest levels.
Now I’m nervous. The problem with working a case like this is you know that somewhere deep inside the packet of lies you’re told is a kernel of truth. The key to working undercover is to find the kernel of truth, and I already know that what Mason has just said is true. I’m betting almost all of it is true and that leaves me in a rough spot.
I have to trust Mañoso with my life in this op and, so far, he’s been correct with all his info. I know he has every reason to keep me alive. I also know that this op has been authorized at the highest levels. Unless the President himself is playing his cabinet officials against each other, Mañoso rules.
Besides, I acknowledge that, while Mañoso is hot-headed and plays fast and loose, he’s also a businessman. He plays straight, just insane, in situations where law enforcement in involved. I can’t imagine that he’s protecting a major drug lord for no reason, especially considering all the quiet help TPD gets on gang and drug cases from RangeMan, especially in getting information from the streets. Assuming that Mañoso really is protecting this guy, that is. So if the DEA and ATF can’t bring him in and Mañoso won’t accept the contracts, there must be another angle.
I pretend drunk. “So . . . how’re you and Jackson gonna bring this guy in? He’s big. Shit won’t be easy.”
He frowns and sticks another $20 in the dancer’s g-string. “Dunno. We had a plant in his organization but he couldn’t get nothing. Got caught by the head of tech. Fucked up our plans entirely.”
I nod and slip another $20 in the dancer’s g-string. She’s doing a great job. “Well, what else you got planned? Mebbe I can help.”
He looks at me. “Well, we’re outta ideas. Only other option is to try to take his woman, but we heard about her. Rather not have our shit blown up. Plus, we heard she’s a good investigator and nosy. If she can clear a cop of murder charges when she’s supposed to be bringing his ass in, then I’d rather not have her stick her nose in. And his employees would kill first, ask questions later if she’s harmed or taken.”
Never before in my life have I been so glad that a) Cupcake is connected to RangeMan on the streets and b) her reputation for being nosy and blowing shit up precedes her. I take a hit of tequila just to steady my nerves. He knows she brought me in so why doesn’t he recognize my face?
“We were tracking her at one point and we thought we hit the jackpot when she slipped away for a trip to Miami. Problem is, we know she left the building but we never saw when, and we didn’t see him so there was no way to confirm that he was even in Miami. Our plant got caught and the head of tech beat the shit out of him before he could learn much. All we were able to confirm is that he’s supposed to be overseas.”
I take a deep breath. “Alright. Woman is a bad idea. Anything else?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. We can’t get a bead on any of his family. It’s like they don’t exist. His company is completely legit, from what we can tell. Since it’s privately owned, they don’t have to submit reports anywhere. We talked to the police departments he works with. Nothing but praise. It’s like the fucker is untouchable. It’s pissing Knox.”
Finally! A name. Now, who’s Knox?
“Knox?”
He glares at me. “You never heard that name.”
I nod. OK. He’s drunk and his tongue is loose. I’ll find out another way.
“Well, any possibility of using another consultant to take your guy down? There’s gotta be someone who can bring in the drug lord.”
Mason snorts and knocks back two more shots. Thank god for credit cards. “We’ve tried. Six DEA agents dead. Two more simply disappeared. No one lasts long around him. His men are loyal and they don’t flip. We’ve tried. Threatened some major sentences, but a high powered lawyer always shows up to save the day. This consultant, Ranger, is the only guy close to him not connected to his organization. He’s really the only option. Knox is gunning for him. Wants to remind him that if the US Government tells him to jump, he doesn’t get to yawn and walk away. We paid for his fucking training. He should use it on our behalf.”
I love drunks. I start passing Mason more tequila. We started with a full bottle and we’re halfway through.
“So why not arrest him?”
Mason laughs, a completely disbelieving laugh. “You fucking kidding me? Nothing sticks. Nothing would hold. The man has high priced lawyers and a solid record. Fucking legend as an Army Ranger. On their fucking Wall of Honor! Shit, it’s his fucking nickname! Ranger! Can you imagine the conceit of this spic? Lotta good, honest, white men fought and died for this country, to make it what it is today, and this fucker, this dirty spic, who probably came here illegally, is the one with the fucking nickname.” He tosses another shot back and snorts. “Ranger. Shit, outta be called Inmate.”
Lovely. A drunk racist. If he calls me a guido, it’ll be the last thing he’ll say for a few hours.
“Me and Jackson, we’re trying our best to bring either bastard in, but there’s not a lot of hope. We’re just waiting for a break at this point, hoping for a mistake, but it means we’ll be stuck with that whiny spic we’ve got for months. Ranger“–he does the finger quotes–”is out the country, using his US Army-issued talents to bring down sand niggers. Fine by me. Would be nice if they blew his ass up with friendly fire while he’s there, so we eliminate two problems in one go.”
I hate this bastard. Wonder how he really feels about Jackson. Jackson is black.
“So what’s your partner think?”
Mason snorts then laughs. “Really? You think Jackson is the thinker in this partnership? Jackson’s the muscle. I’m the brain. Niggers can’t hold two thoughts in their heads at once.”
But I’ll bet Jackson makes his plans while sober. Explains why your plan isn’t working.
I eat some peanuts and think about what I’ve heard. This little sting operation seems geared more to Mañoso than anyone else. Yeah, we’re bringing in dirty Feds, but they’re gunning for him at the same time. Hmm …I’ll bet that’s what Mañoso really wants to know. I wonder how they plan to bring him down. Then again, the Director of Homeland Security picked the consultant, not the low levels, so she trusts Mañoso. Maybe she knew they were gunning for him and is allowing him to clean house too?
I can’t believe the position I’m in. For the first time, I’m actually concerned about this asshole’s ability to find information to put Mañoso away. Shit! Lots of problems in my life would be solved if he were not around but . . . I guess I want the pleasure of arresting him. Just once. Even for a speeding ticket. Five months on this case and I acknowledge that working with Mañoso hasn’t been the hell I assumed it would be. I’d prefer Mason not take him down. On my scale of assholes, Mason ranks much higher than Mañoso.
These are deep thoughts and I’ve consumed too much liquor. Quick look at my drunk target confirms he’s damn near asleep. I cash us out (SHIT! Four figure bar tab!) and tuck him into a cab, after letting him hit his head on the doorframe. Sorry. Alcohol will do shit to you. I take a cab to my apartment and call Mañoso.
“Aguilar.”
“Jordan.”
“Listen to tonight’s tapes. Enlightening shit.”
Silence. “You get him talking?”
“Once the tequila was in him, I couldn’t shut him up if you’d paid me. I have a concern though.”
“Go on.”
“He told me that he knew that Steph had cleared ‘a cop’ of murder charges when she was supposed to be bringing him in. My cover may be shot.”
Silence. “You’ve been removed from most databases, including newspaper and internet news sites. Your official cover with the state is that you’re working a case in California that dovetails with NJ and NY. Unless someone goes to the Trenton Gazette or public library and searches the microfiche, a standard search won’t find much on you. And the microfiche has been removed.”
I exhale and lie back. I should have known Mañoso would cover all bases. Again, he has to keep me alive. And I think that may have been the most words he’s ever spoken to me that didn’t end with him calling me an idiot. Aloud, anyway.
“Tell your mother to let it be known that anyone who comes around asking about you should be stonewalled. Take a few days off. Relax and let me review the tapes.” Click.
Will do. Thank god. I’ll look to see if I can catch a game around here. Charlotte’s not a bad area. Nice restaurants, nice bars, gorgeous women.
I miss Cupcake.
Ranger’s POV—Four days after ‘Cuteness Overload’ (during Chapter 66)
This case will make Morelli’s career. So far, through his work alone, we’ve pulled in five rogue agents, including two of the three Manny was certain were dirty. That’s far more than the other agents; most have only managed to get one talking on tape about their activities, which gives me enough to pass back to pull warrants to start legal monitoring. Sharon has pulled three. Yeah, Morelli’s career will hit the stratosphere off this case. Solid work, good rapport with suspects, and a way of getting people to talk. Best of all, he’s fast.
I have five minutes before our nightly call and I just finished reviewing all the intel I have from his latest work. I was hesitant to send him into North Carolina because it’s such a stronghold, but I have no other choice. At this point, he’s my best. I’ll probably call him to run point with me in Florida but not yet. Besides, the trust level isn’t there quite yet. Babe is still a sore point between us.
“Aguilar?”
“Jordan?”
“I got nothing new but I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Go on.”
“I set DiBardino up.”
Good. DiBardino is another agent on the task force, so far completely unsuccessful. Her persuasion techniques tend toward taking her clothes off, but for stupid men it works. I’ve been able to pass the information necessary to get warrants for extortion, money laundering, and RICO activities, just not the objective. If it weren’t for the fact that her work still pleases the government, I’d have bounced her. I need agents not prostitutes. If I have a mole within this task force, that’s a problem and a legitimate reason to bounce her.
“She was pressing me for more information about my bona fides, legal name, etc. So if you start hearing chatter about a Michael Giordano, she’s the one talking.”
I now have a reason to bounce her ass. I have been hearing chatter about a contract on Michael Giordano. I need to ensure that the description fits Morelli, but he’s gotta get out of there. I need to plan her takedown and I don’t want him in the crossfire.
“Contract’s already out. Pack up and leave tonight. Catch the last thing smoking to Miami and if you can’t, get to Atlanta and get the first thing out of Hartsfield.”
“Shit! You could’ve told me.”
“You could’ve told me you set her up. You held back. Now move. You need to be gone within the half-hour.”
An hour later, I call DiBardino and tell her to meet me in Greenville at 0600. There’s a contract out on her and I need to move her to a safe location. Within minutes, she’s on the phone to two others to tell them there’s a contract on her and she’s being told to leave Charlotte. They tell her to stay put. Thirty minutes later, she calls them back and tells them Jordan’s gone from his room. Now she’s in a total panic. She attempts to call Morelli but he turned his phone off.
Smart move.
The entire time I’m tracing and recording these phone calls. She’s trying to come up with back story, working with the targets to determine how to pin this on Morelli. She’s being told to get rid of the money and leave Charlotte now, go to Augusta, South Carolina. She’s caught now. She knows that she has to meet with me, but if she doesn’t meet with them they’ll put a contract on her or just kill her when she reaches Augusta.
If it weren’t so sad, it would be hilarious. I’m watching her trackers, trying to see what she decides to do. In the end, she decides to leave early for Greenville. Good move; the targets show up at her room 20 minutes later.
She never broke alias with them, so they don’t have her real name. She’s counting on me to hide her. Morelli’s going to end up smelling like roses off this. One of her callers is his target, Mason, the charming racist. So out of this, he’ll get credit for three dirty agents.
I call Danny and tell him I need takedown teams for two agents in Charlotte now. At least 10 men. Danny says they can be mobilized in 15 minutes. Babe’s work with the Atlanta office is benefitting me in ways she doesn’t even know. Instead of having to wait two hours for takedown teams, I can set the rendezvous point in 20 minutes. The two agents will be held in the holding rooms at RangeMan Atlanta while I charm and escort DiBardino right to the ICE offices in Atlanta for booking. I need the three of them separated with no clue that the others have been arrested.
Two hours later, it’s over. Mason and Jackson are trussed up in the back of RangeMan SUVs on the way back to RangeMan Atlanta. I made sure they dropped Mason a few times. Sorry. Slippery hands. It’s a hell of a swim from Cuba. I have time to get about five hours sleep before I meet DiBardino in Greenville to take her into custody. I don’t expect problems. She’s been told to trust me and she expects me to hide her.
I’m waiting at the IHOP for DiBardino at 0550. I received word that Morelli caught the last plane out of Charlotte and is now hiding in an apartment at RangeMan Miami until I make arrangements to move him. Good.
“Aguilar?”
I smile and stand up to kiss her on the cheeks. “You look good, Sandy. How’s it going?” She looks relieved that I’m so calm with her. Yes, I’m calm right now. I need you to talk.
“I’m scared out my fucking mind, Juan! You call to tell me that there’s a contract out on me so I go looking for Jordan and he’s completely disappeared. Not a single trace that he was ever in the room.”
“I took him into custody. I was able to catch him on tape setting you up.” Is she stupid enough to fall for this?
“Oh God.” She’s completely pale. “You know, I wondered if he was dirty. I saw him talking to Mason and Jackson all the time and every time I came near, they stopped talking.” Yes, you puta estúpida. Keep talking. “Every day, at 2 p.m., he would step outside to make a phone call but I couldn’t get a pulse on who he was calling.”
It’s a basic of human nature that when you need to cover your tracks, you ascribe all the stupid shit you did to someone else. Now she’s just making it easy for me to find the right recordings to completely convict her.
“You and Jordan hit Charlotte at the same time. Tell me everything you did. Every phone call, every conversation.” She does. Over the next hour she describes every phone conversation she “overheard,” every money drop he “supposedly” made, everything Morelli supposedly did in order to prove the agents were dirty. It’s all on her and I’m taping every bit of her phony confession.
Finally, at 0730 we hit the road and by 1100 we’re walking up the steps to the ICE building in downtown Atlanta. We walk in and I request a “Russian” room, code in ICE for a room with direct links to Washington and no surveillance. Thirty minutes later, I’m speaking to the Director and informing her that one of the task force agents is dirty and needs to be taken into custody. I’m in the Atlanta ICE office with her. I also have two more agents at my Atlanta office that I will bring in separately. The agents here just need the orders. Twenty minutes later I’m told that the agents who approach me with the password ‘castle’ are the agents I should release each dirty agent to.
I rejoin DiBardino and we wait. Fifteen minutes later, three agents approach us.
“Aguilar?” I nod. “Castle.” I motion to DiBardino and the men move to take her into custody. The sight of the handcuffs startles her.
“Aguilar? What’s going on?”
“Precaution, Sandy.” She relaxes. “I believe these gentlemen would like to talk to you. You’ll need to repeat everything you told me.” Two of the agents walk off with her. The third waits for my instructions.
“Mirandize her. Real name is Alexandra Torres. RICO activity, attempted murder, conspiracy. You need to transport her and the two I’m bringing in to DC, separately. It’s important that they not know the others are in custody.” He nods. “The audio and supporting information will be sent directly to DC.”
“Thank you, sir.” Over the next hour, my men bring both Mason and Jackson to the Atlanta ICE office for processing. Mason and Jackson are handcuffed, blindfolded, and have ear plugs in; I did not want them to be able to identify RangeMan at any point. I call Miami and learn that Morelli is asleep on 3.
Eight dirty agents. I doubt I ever have to give Morelli’s career a boost again.
I spend two hours online looking for just the right thing, the right item to tell Babe how much I love her. I’ve had some time to think about Hector’s words and, as much as I don’t want to acknowledge that he’s right, he is. Babe is doing everything she can to change for me, to fit into my life. I need to show that I appreciate her efforts. I need to start giving some thought to how we’ll integrate our lives and what I’ll have to do in order to keep her. The changes I’ll need to make.
It would really help if I had an idea what she might want. I’d ask but I know he won’t say anything. That’s right, Hec, just leave me out here with no intel. Shit!
In any case, Babe’s work in my company just led me to pull off the easiest takedown ever. All the men were new, but Atlanta’s training them well and Chase was on-site. Danny’s absence to the Jersey Shore meant I had to pass all my orders to Chase via phone but it went well. Chase is a smart guy and was able to execute my brief orders perfectly. Even better, he gave me no sign of recognition at the ICE office until all the men were gone. Then I got a short nod before he left.
I’m proud, and happy, and curious about what’s going on. I try to access the reports again but I’m still locked out. Hector locked me out of the reports, saying my woman needs to be able to report to me what she’s doing, not have me snooping and reading the information behind her back. Allow her to tell me what’s going on.
Hector’s earned another hour on the mats, but I can’t override his controls. Damn.
In any case, if I don’t want to be part of that 80% number, time to do what I can, while I can. After all, this isn’t a year-long foreign.
Finally, I hit on just the right thing, but I’m going to have a problem getting it to her. I need her to know who it’s from. Finally, I call Les. He’s going to have to do the public part. I’ve got the other end.
“Yo!”
“Yo. Need help.” I tell him what I need and listen to him laugh his ass off.
“Cute. I’m getting my man card punched for this.”
I grin. “I know. Just do it.”
“Only because this is Beautiful. Suggestion.”
“Yes?”
“Send it to Ella to give to her when she returns from the beach.”
“Done.” Click.
I smile. Les is getting his man card punched and Babe is getting the perfect gift. Nothing better.
A/N: Next two weeks are the XO week at the beach. Major plot twists coming up and I’m shifting everything around (insert evil grin here!). So, three chapters a week, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday plus one side story and at least one one-shot.
It’s about to get crazy. Hang on!
Just a chuckle. I’m sitting in the Atlanta airport last night, writing a OneShot, and the woman in front of me is raving about High Five, which she had in hand. Someone suggests that she check out FanFiction, since it’s much better, and mentions that she’s addicted to a story going right now. They moved away from their table so that ended my eavesdropping.
Now, I don’t know what story she was talking about and they looked really into the conversation, so I didn’t butt in, but if you were in the Atlanta airport on 8/29, sitting in front of the woman with the large blue book bag and white headphones, HI!
