Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ Paranoia ( Chapter 14 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Paranoia

Any gun information is along the current line, maybe me playing a little ahead, but I really am not up for trying to recalculate gun technology for an unknown amount of time into the future… and the guns in the show seemed about as effective as the current ones anyhow. Not going to fiddle with the whole laser nonsense…. They seemed to be restricted to extremely large equipment in the show, and I'm going to take that to mean that they're either impossible to make on a small scale, or that they're highly illegal, and far too noticeable for Heero to want, at this point. I am not turning this into Star Wars… there will be no light sabers unless they're attached to a mobile suit.

The same rule applies to cars. If I get something wrong, sorry, it's not my area of expertise… but I'm going to try to stay in the normal range of now, since it seems to be back there in the actual show, give or take. The same rule will apply to maps as well, because maps of the GW borders aren't exactly available. If anyone has an idea of where Sanc is supposed to be beyond some of Germany's coastline, I would love to know.

Also, I cleaned up earlier chapters a bit… just little things, the dates didn't quite match up, I realized… and I'm fairly sure it was at least 10 months from start to finish on the show, so we're running with the assumption that everyone was almost 16 by the time Libra fell, almost 17 when Endless Waltz occurred in canon.

May 18th 197 - Thursday - Brussels

“I'm calling a manicurist.”

Milliardo started, then grinned over at his old comrade. “You would hire someone to fuss over me?”

Jake snorted, glancing up briefly from his laptop to give the guy a look. “If I was hiring someone to fuss, it'd be a masseuse; you're under so much stress it's the best thing I could do. The manicurist would come in once a week to give you hell for biting your nails; maybe she'd actually break you of the habit.”

The prince grimaced; he'd been biting them again? “How long until she gets there?”

“Subtract half an hour from the last answer I gave you.”

Milliardo rolled his eyes. “You're an ass.” Jake was a friend, but there was a reason they didn't spend too much time together.

“You're overprotective,” the colonel countered. “They'd have to be blind and stupid to do anything to her, not to mention the fact that your little sister already has the support of the people behind her from what she did during the war. They don't think she's all that powerful but they like her, which means killing her would start a riot, and they're not going to go borrowing trouble.”

“I don't have any power in China,” the other man muttered worriedly. “They have no reason to do what I want.”

“And Relena is getting you that power,” Jake reminded him. His tone was weary; this was far from the first time they had had this conversation.

Also not for the first time, Milliardo wondered why Jake had actually agreed to work up here with him. He hadn't had any compunctions against ignoring and avoiding him when it suited him over the past year.

“But she's so… so little.” That came out as more of a whine than it should have, but it wasn't as if Jake would repeat it… well, not to anyone who might think him weak for it.

“She's something like two inches shorter than me, I think I might be offended.”

Milliardo snorted, throwing one leg over the arm of his chair. “You're trained.”

“So train her.”

He stared at him in shock. “I won't put her through that!”

“If I recall, Lu handled it just fine.”

“Noin wanted it more than anything. Relena's on a different path… a history of fighting would only hurt her future.”

“The future only holds more fighting,” Jake argued, scowling… then shook his head. “Whatever. David will keep her safe, and Dorothy is sleeping in the same bed, likely with a gun under her pillow, so she's doubly protected in a place where no one would wish her harm. Everything will be fine.”

“That's the kind of comment that ends in Yuy kidnapping her,” Milliardo snapped.

“Yet another example of someone who would wish her no harm,” Jake pointed out dryly.

“You're really not funny,” Milliardo returned. “I don't think he'd be above using Relena against me.”

“I think he would have done it already, if he was going to.” He shifted in his chair. “There wasn't even a brush against the security on the files concerning her whereabouts, or on any of the false trails I laid about her… he isn't concerned with her, it would seem… or if he is, he's smart enough to not pry.” Shrugging a little, he noted, “Everything with Heero has been trying to catch a wisp of smoke, and the others are outright gone. They were trained on how to go to ground when the shit hits the fan; I don't think we'll ever dig them back up unless they both get sloppy and we get lucky.”

“You've been trained on how to disappear too,” the prince argued. “And I would hardly say we never got anything on any of them.”

“My training is the only reason I've been able to get any results,” Jake reminded him, scowling. “Each of those guys has a completely different style, they work different. I think Heero's the only one with any kind of true training on it, which is probably why he's the one I'm similar enough to to track at all, and then it's not hard for him to cut me off entirely, especially since he's been off the charts for as long as he has now. He could be anywhere. I'm down to looking for any kind of criminal activity through the nets, and that's like hunting down a specific fish's shit in the whole damn ocean.”

He stood up and started to pace. “Quatre's either found a way to never go out in daylight, or he's changed himself enough physically that he won't be recognized; he was probably our best lead at first, but now there's no point in even trying. And we never had anything on the other three. The only way you're ever seeing them again is if you offer amnesty, and then it's iffy.” Giving his leader a serious look, he decided, “You should be focusing on Po's people instead of this wild goose chase.”

“And just wait for the demons to sneak up behind me with piano wire?” he snarled back.

“Shit, you can keep your own home safe,” Jake argued. “You're surrounded by soldiers, you've got damn high security, just localize and focus on what you have.” He shook his head, giving him a disgusted look. “Your ego's always been too damn big, Zechs, but this will really come crashing down on your head if you don't cut your losses and hold the fuckin' fort. This is not the time to play like it's a one man show, you've got an entire planet depending on you. Grow up.” He rested his head in one hand, the anger melting away from him. “Before the world finds a way to force it on you, huh?”

Milliardo felt the energy drain out of him, seeing that change in his old friend. He knew what Jake was referring to… and he didn't want to think of how the implications of being forced to `grow up' might apply to himself. Images of finding Relena dead flashed through his mind anyway… and he swallowed hard. He had lost so much already… he wasn't going to lose his little sister, no matter what. “I'll think about it… I take it this means you want to be reassigned?”

Jake sat down again. “Yeah, but I don't know where yet. Relena has some fun looking projects in mind, but I want to see how good she is at putting her words into practice before I commit to anything there.” He shrugged a little. “I've been in an office for a year… it might be nice to be out in the world again, whatever I'm doing. Though at the same time, it might be nice to train some of the more promising people you've picked up… I don't know.”

“Alright… tell me once you figure it out.” Jake liked to have some say in his assignments, and he was diversified enough that he could go almost anywhere… and when he decided he really wanted to do something, he was amazing at it. He could be a little whimsical, but the results he brought in more than made up for his unorthodox treatment. It wasn't as though he wouldn't follow orders he was given if he didn't like the assignment… but yeah.

Trying to prod a more inane attitude from his friend, he asked, “So… how long until she gets there?”

***

May 19th 197 - Friday - Amsterdam

“Hey.”

Duo frowned at the voice, then shoved out from under the car he was working on to blink at Melissa. “Hey.”

“I brought you some dinner,” she explained before he could ask, holding up a Styrofoam box so he could see it. Setting it down on the floor, she squatted and tried to look under the vehicle itself… though really, if she wanted to look, she'd need to get on her back. “What's wrong with it?”

“Not moving?” he suggested wryly.

She snorted at that, then did something he didn't expect; she crawled under the car and rolled over to look for herself.

“You're going to get your uniform filthy,” he warned. It was just a cute little black shirt and blue jeans, but they were good quality; nobody wanted a waitress who looked shabby. “Not to mention your hair.”

“They wash,” she returned easily. “Radiator's not dripping…” She knocked it a few times with a knuckle. “But that's more to do with it not having anything in it.” She considered. “You checked the battery, already, I'm guessing.”

“It wasn't any good, but a new one didn't help,” he admitted, seeing her in a new light. She was about as close to Luc as Shov was, so he knew her well enough, but at the same time they had never sought each other out.

She noticed his attention and smirked. “I've seen your kind, soldier boy; you know a suit inside and out, but don't know a thing about cars, do you?”

He grinned sheepishly. “I need the reputation to keep getting other offers.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was amused. “You've been working on shit that's way too advanced, Kay, you've got to think simple.” Pulling herself back out from under the machine, she went to pop the hood. “Gimmie the keys… you've got fluids around, right?”

“Over by the window,” he agreed, coming back out himself and pulling the keys out of his pocket. “What do you want with these?”

“Try starting him for me real quick, let's hear how he sounds.”

He smirked a little at that, leaning into the sedan to try to start the engine. It stuttered and whined at him, as it had before.

The woman who more or less headed the girls in Luc's gang despite being one of the youngest considered the sound for a second. “Sounds like something's wrong with the ignition coil,” she decided.

“…Where did you learn all this?”

“My daddy taught me,” she informed him absentmindedly. “You eat… I'm gonna go change. I don't want to stain my pants.”

He nodded and debated with himself for a second. Melissa and Nolan were from Amsterdam, but they'd never been to see a father… On some level he didn't want to intrude, but it was something he didn't know… and Melissa wasn't the secretive type. Luc said she and his little sister had been friends, growing up, and he'd always seen her as another sister… especially after his had died. “Is he…?”

She blinked at him, then realized what he was asking and smiled. “He found work in Berlin.” About to wipe her hands on her pants, she stopped herself and grabbed one of the towels he had lying about. “He sends back money whenever he gets a check. We're okay now, so mostly I just put it in an account incase we end up in trouble again, but he still sends almost everything he makes.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay.”

She considered him a moment, tilting her head… in a really cute way, actually. It wasn't thought out, the way Karina did it, but there was just… it was just sweet, somehow. After a moment, she asked, “Luc never told you?”

He grinned. “Well, I wouldn't have asked if I knew.”

She smiled slightly, staring a moment longer as if to make sure of something, before grinning broadly and practically bouncing past him. “I'll be back in just a minute. Eat that before it gets cold, huh?”

“Alright,” he agreed easily, watching her go. He followed her to the door and watched her bolt down the street, not exactly sure what it was about her that had his attention… it was just `Liss…

Shaking his head, he walked back over to the box to see what leftovers she'd skimmed out of the kitchen for him.

***

May 20th 197 - Saturday - Undetermined

Heero ran a hand through his hair. He was happy, on one level, as he'd finally managed to acquire an I.D. and gun… but on the other hand, after three days of searching about, he hadn't found a glimmer of his Chinese friend.

Did I make a mistake? he worried. Was he really gutsy enough to try the ferry? He had assumed that Wufei wouldn't go west because Zechs' people controlled the west of Turkey… Istanbul was a stronghold, and when being chased it wasn't exactly the smartest idea to run into your enemies' waiting arms. He hadn't even changed the way he'd looked, right down to the ponytail…

Wufei had never fallen for any of the little plots the rest had, like the “leaked” information that had led to him killing Noventa and those other peace advocates…

…but that also led to him not being around when he was needed…

He blinked. Am I bitter about that?

The idea that he ought to be upset with the other pilot for not staying until the end of that last battle had never occurred to him… he had failed himself, after all, even when he put absolutely everything on the line. More and more it seemed like he and Quatre had done everything when trying to destroy Libra… Noin was too conflicted to move a muscle, not that her suit would have taken the abuse. Trowa had helped with the hordes; he and Duo had done as Quatre commanded. Duo had been acting like a damn ferry service…

He frowned. I can hardly get upset with him for saving Hilde when I went to save Relena. The information we got from Hilde is what made it so I could get Relena at all. He knew better. But somehow… he was still annoyed.

Moving to buy some pastries from a street vendor, he contemplated the emotion. It was hardly logical… and he wasn't actually upset by the other's actions, per se… just annoyed. Aggravated, maybe. Duo had used up all his resources on the girl and then who knew what he'd been doing meandering around Libra… and then why had be gone back to Peacemillion?

…Had he ever seen Deathscythe come back out of Howard's ship? He froze as he walked away from the stand. Was he disabled? He hadn't gotten a good look at the other gundam… Did he think that Deathscythe's shields wouldn't hold up against the atmosphere anymore, that he wouldn't survive a drop? Freezing from lack of oxygen and dying in your sleep was better than burning to death…

Was Duo dead?

He sat down, trying to focus on his pasty. It smelled good, but somehow, he didn't quite want it anymore. The idea that his old comrade might be dead… somehow, it had never occurred to him. Sure, Quatre, after he disappeared… but the others? They didn't die; Trowa and he had proven that.

It was getting hard to breathe. He hadn't been close to them, really… but he had been looking forward to Duo's smile, when they met up again. He would tease him about the leg… ask him if he'd reset and sewn it up himself. He'd poke at him about the blonde hair, choke on his own tongue if he saw him socializing even as little as he'd been this past week, then laugh and suggest they find some frat party to crash, as if either of them were careless enough to actually get drunk or trust so many strangers that close to them…

Will none of that ever happen?

There was a sinking feeling in his chest. This wasn't like losing Odin… that had happened so fast, there hadn't been time to think about it… then again, this wasn't exactly happening right after the fact either. Maybe he would have grieved Odin if he had had time to do more than eat and sleep…. The memory was too old, now. He was too disconnected from the idea of his father… it had been a long time since he'd had someone trying to take care of him, and even then his father had always focused on making him self-sufficient. There was a twinge there, but he didn't know what to really call it…

Maybe on some level, he still thought he might run into Odin again. It didn't make much sense… he had watched the man die, he knew he was gone…

He took a bite out of his pastry, not really tasting it. He didn't exactly understand how his head worked, didn't know much of anything about psychology… but he was glad the feeling in his chest was easing up. There was nothing he could do about Odin… and if Duo was dead, he'd handle it when he came across actual evidence. Freaking out wouldn't get him anywhere… Relena was the only person that that seemed to work for. Well, maybe Une… That had more to do with her being incredibly unpredictable than anything, though.

Shifting so he could feel the gun tucked against his back, taking comfort in its presence, he took another bite, and another. It would still make sense for Wufei to have come east, to head north through Russia instead of Bulgaria. I just need to keep looking.

***

China

“They've always been a secretive people, Relena, and they have no reason to trust your brother besides,” Dorothy noted as she flopped down on the bed. Reaching down to untie her shoes without sitting up, she added, “You shouldn't bother getting offended.”

Relena sighed, sitting down at the foot of the bed and taking off her own shoes. “Offering a reward out of my pocket for continued better designs is a good idea for upping the ante on competition,” she argued. “It will make this move faster, I don't care about their dismissals of their men doing it just out of to good of their hearts.”

“They can't have the boys running to work for you,” Dorothy reasoned. “Can't have you seeking them out independently. No names, and they know better than to ask you to trust them on distributing rewards, so they're going to suggest you're trying to insult the scientists' integrity.”

“I know that,” the princess snapped. “I just don't like the idea of giving them money to encourage unspecified crap. I want to know exactly where it's going.”

“Of course. On the other hand, they don't want you poking your nose into their business.” She'd finished getting her shoes off and stretched out happily, eyes closed. “But you have the right to poke around because it's your money, your custom, and that's why this is going to take longer than anything ever should.”

“I can't even meet the engineers!”

“Pardon me, but it's not as if you even spoke the same language.”

“You can't go through that much schooling without learning English.”

“Mm, so maybe they don't want you to stumble on their boy genius who didn't go to school, because you'll want to pull him off the project because he isn't qualified.”

Relena narrowed her eyes. “You're just being contrary.”

“That or creative, I'm not sure which.”

She couldn't help but smile a little at that. “I'm hungry.”

“No, you're sleepy, we're taking a nap,” Dorothy argued, grabbing a pillow and snuggling into it.

Relena sniggered at that. “You can take a nap after we get food.”

“You just had to wait until I'd taken my shoes off, didn't you?”

“I took mine off too, you know.”

“You're wearing pretty things with a buckle, I have boots. It's not the same.”

Shaking her head a little, she stood and called into the connecting room. “Mitch? Are you hungry?”

He blinked at her. “I'll take you to get food.”

“Good, you can go on duty early,” Dorothy decided, not moving.

Relena sighed. It wasn't like Mitch hadn't already been awake, and he had slept since she and Dorothy had headed out for breakfast that early morning. However, he would have to be awake until that time again tomorrow, so if he wanted to go back to sleep for a while, they had to make her friend get up. Milliardo had made himself clear; she was not to be without a guard. Dorothy, apparently, had gone through basic training and more after Libra fell. “You can go back to bed, she has to get back up if you're tired,” she confided.

He grinned. “It's fine, I couldn't go back to sleep now if I tried. Just let me get my boots on.”

Relena turned back to Dorothy. “Hear that? He's putting his boots on.”

“Good for him… Bring me back something.”

She snorted. “If I don't get room service, neither do you.” She had already been planning on bringing something back for her, but it was fun to pick at her.

And… she really shouldn't be napping; it wasn't fair to Mitchell. Even if he wanted to go, he wasn't supposed to be on duty to watch her yet, it was Dorothy's job during the day.

She frowned, considering the anger rising in her chest. She really didn't know the man, but she hated slighting anyone. She'd had enough and seen enough unfair treatment in her life… Dorothy had made a commitment; she ought to keep it. It wasn't right that Mitchell was letting her get away with this bullshit, that she had been willing to let her get away with it just a moment ago. Dorothy never seemed to actually be doing her job, whatever it was.

“Stop being pissy…”

“Stop being a slacker,” she snapped back.

Dorothy pushed herself up on her elbows to blink at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me; do your damn job instead of making Mitchell clean up after you.”

She frowned, sitting up all the way. “Lena, it really isn't that big of a deal.”

“And life isn't ever fun and games,” she returned. “You should know better, so get your butt out of bed and come have dinner with us, and let your comrade rest instead of being on duty whenever he's awake.” She was just staring at her… “What?”

“You really haven't changed, have you?”

Relena narrowed her eyes. “Get up now or so help me I will pull you up by your hair. We'll get plenty of sleep tonight.”

Dorothy sneered, but sat up and started putting her boots back on with more force than was necessary. “It's called jet lag, my Lady.”

“I didn't sleep on the plane at all,” Relena snapped back. “It's called duty, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I'm going,” she growled back, not looking at her.

“Good.” Relena turned back towards Colonel Mitchell… and found him staring at her too. Exasperated, she demanded, “What?!” Everyone keeps doing that lately…

He blinked as though startled out of a trance and shook his head. “What are we getting to eat?”

***

May 21st 197 - Sunday - Kars, Turkey

I couldn't help but feel pleased with myself; everything had cooled down, and it was all fine… I could actually breathe again. I hadn't seen hide or hair of the people that had been chasing me for almost two days; I felt safe enough to venture into a convenience store for some bottles of water and soda before the sun went down.

Settling into an alley to people watch without being watched myself, I unscrewed the cap on a cola and took a drag. This was nice… It would be nicer if I could actually catch some of the sunlight before the sun went down, it'd be warmer than right here, but sunlight suggested being seen, and I'd risked enough for one day.

Even my arm was starting to feel better… the worst of the infection had passed, with only some angry redness still left, and a bit of the green that was still attached but not filled with fluid anymore… it would be gone in a couple days. It wasn't cooperating with me yet, but shit, I'd been shot; I wouldn't have full function back for months, or maybe even a year. I could push it, but I wasn't sure it would heal right if I did. I didn't know a whole lot of anything about medicine, and the doctor had warned me… if I screwed up simple directions and fucked myself over, I just deserved to be laughed at.

Sipping at my drink again, I closed my eyes and relaxed a little more. Everything would work out… I'd make it to the safe house, then I'd make it back to base eventually, stop moving around so much and do more tactic-based work until I was physically fit again… that Po woman might not even yell much about my whole ordeal so long as I got myself back to her on my own and more or less in one piece. I just had to finish getting there, catch another bus, and I'd be back to work instead of running like a damn rabbit.

And if I'd actually lost my tail, then I could manage just that much faster…

A hand slapped over my mouth as a hard grip on the back of my pants yanked me into the darker shadows of the alley. I started to fight back, but surprisingly he blocked my attempts with ease and wrapped a hand around my wound to keep control of me if I kept trying. As much as I hated to admit it, that worked amazingly well. I wasn't stupid enough to call attention to myself by screaming, the cops wanted me more than some mugger…

Then I saw his face. Oh shit… It was the guy who'd been right on my ass in the train station in Beirut before I'd ducked and run for it. I waited for him to make his move, working out contingency plans for exactly how to get away at the first advantage he let me have. I couldn't afford to get caught, there was too much I had to do… I couldn't afford to be imprisoned, to die…

He narrowed his eyes at me, scowling. “Just how stupid are you?”

“None of your concern,” I snapped back, ignoring the pain in my arm as I twisted and kicked at his groin; not something I normally cared to do, but squeezing your enemy's arm hard enough to make an old wound start bleeding was hardly fair either.

He side-stepped my foot fluidly, not losing his grip on my arm, and slammed me against the wall. I bit back a hiss of pain; I could feel the blood soaking through my sleeve. “Maybe it shouldn't be,” he retorted, still sounding highly irritated. “But you have to be a fuckin' moron to just be out like this… He sent out new people that you wouldn't recognize.” He kicked me hard in the shin. “Stop fighting me, they're closing in on us now, come on…”

…That had to make sense somehow. “What?”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my good arm about the wrist before leaping up to a fire escape and literally pulling me after him. Well, I helped a bit once I realized what he was doing, but it was still a move that required training… and he still had that same fluid grace as he'd shown so far. “I said move,” he hissed, shoving me at the stairs.

I could hear more traffic than I had been seeing the last ten fifteen minutes or so down the street… more traffic than was warranted at this hour of day, when the cold of night was starting to really settle in. The work shift had changed half an hour ago, this wasn't it…

I stopped protesting and started up. I had no real idea who the hell this guy was other than the fact that Po must have sent him, and I was humiliated to need the help, but I apparently did, because I would have been a sitting duck there. “Where?” I asked quietly.

“East,” he snapped, shoving at my back. “Faster, Chang.”

I wanted to protest… but stopped ahead of myself and swallowed my pride. He was right… and I bolted.

***

Amsterdam

“Hey, Kay?”

Chaos grinned over at Shov; he'd been standing outside the Den, apparently waiting for him. “Hey, what's up?” He was on his way out to work; he and Melissa had worked on the car for a while before coming home, but he still worked for Tate at night.

Luc's best friend gestured for him to keep going and fell into step with him as he walked away from the building. “I… need to talk to you.”

“What about?” he asked, genuinely curious. Shov was a good guy, but they weren't exactly close. They got along great, but he wouldn't have ever thought the twenty-odd man would confide in him.

“Why…” He frowned, seeming to fight with himself over something. “Hilde, she…” He flushed and suddenly demanded, “Why us? Why is somebody like you staying here?”

Duo froze. “You know?”

Shov looked away. “I've been following whatever I can catch about her since Libra… you said the way you met her… she called you Duo.”

“…Does anyone else know?”

“I don't think so,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable. “I mean… I know you're a good guy… but… Shit, it says something when I say I know something and Luc tells me to shut my mouth, he doesn't want to know, that he trusts you to tell him if it's important…”

God, Luc… was really amazing, some days. “If you told anyone, I have to run,” he admitted quietly. Shov didn't have his same issue with lying. “I love it here… but I'm not going to bring trouble to you guys.”

“I didn't,” he muttered defensively. “And it makes a lot of things make sense, just… why?”

Duo thought about that for a second, making sure he understood exactly what the `why' question was, because he could've sworn he'd answered it before. “I wanted to disappear,” he muttered. “Forget… be some nobody again. This place,” he gestured at the city around them, “it's like where I grew up… and then the church…” He shook his head. “I was safe in a crew when I was little, I knew if I picked the right one I'd be safe again…” He licked his lips. “Then I was actually helpful… I could actually help support people…” He knew his chuckle was bleak. “Shit, Shov, you have no idea how lucky you are, that you've never killed anybody…”

They walked along in silence for a while, each sorting out his own thoughts. When they came within view of Tate's building, Shov asked, “What about Hilde?”

Hilde… Duo sighed. “I don't want to be who she used to see… and I don't think she wants what I am now, so…” He shrugged. “I guess that's that.” Running a hand over his face, he muttered, “I don't think I could mix my old and new life without disaster anyhow, so it's just as well. …You're not going to tell anybody?”

Shov shook his head. “I only thought to say to Luc in the first place… so long as you don't go crazy on us… or pull Peacecraft down over us…”

“Of course not.”

“Yeah…” He shrugged a bit and grinned. “Have fun at work?”

“Haha… because manual labor is just that entertaining…”

He sniggered a bit at that, starting to walk backwards. “Make money?”

“I'd better, if I have to work this hard.”

He laughed. “See you in the morning?”

“It had better be afternoon,” Duo tossed back, grinning at him. “Get some sleep.”

“Thanks.” He started to jog back toward the den, and Duo focused back on the building he worked in. That had been really easy, actually… maybe everything would go that smooth from now on. He smiled a little to himself… and went in to get started on payroll.

Does anyone have any thoughts, theories? Think I could be doing a better job of something? Questions? I'm always curious as to exactly what I'm managing to project versus what I meant to, and often enough the first isn't exactly the same as the latter, so… yeah, I really appreciate the feedback, if you have the time…