The Cartel

Chapter VI

A woman spun around in her wheeled, cushioned chair absentmindedly. She was in deep thought when the knock hammered down her reveries.

"Come in!" she called, rather annoyed.

The captain of the security at The Cartel, and a close friend of the leaders, entered. He was dressed in uniform, as he was every other time the woman saw him. Well, except once, but that was a long time ago.

"She's dead," he said. "This is the autopsy report of Penelope Anwir, the double agent we hired just five days ago. She was shot with a .45 caliber within just a few feet." The hesitantly walked closer and reached out to hand her papers attached to a clipboard. "No one knows what her and my men were doing out there that got them shot, and O highly doubt they will. She must've paid the men helping her in secret. If there was anyone else, they won't come forward, but I also highly doubt there are any others."

"What kind of guns do your men have?"

"Sig Sauer 1911 5.11," he answered.

"Caliber?"

"Forty-five."

"First, take me to the crime scene. Second, check and re-check your men," she snarled. "Or I'll have you checked."

The captain's eyes widened at the threat before he nodded, and left.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Carly jumped as Andrew walked up silently from behind.

"Practice shooting," she stated, seeming reluctant to talk to him. She wasn't; she just didn't want to give away what she had seen. It was no time to sound jealous, which she wasn't. After all, she did understand him and what he was going through.

"Oh." Yampa's eyes clouded at the thought of Carly's shooting.

Noticing her mistake, Carly lowered her head shamefully and quickened her step. Yampa fixed his expression to a blank one. His stiff and tense body language, though, said he was struggling.

"I'll join," he said shortly.

Carly wished he wouldn't, but there was no way she would tell him not to join her. Perhaps, the amount of focus shooting needed would take hold of all, if not most, of his attention, peeling it from Penelope.

So, they grabbed a golfcart and drove over to the open shooting range. Most of the people there were part of the security. Yampa and Carly could tell, because they kept their badges attached to one of their clothing articles, proud of the dumb shiny sheild.

Yampa could not hold back his smirk. He knew he was better. And he didn't even need proof. The [1]caseworker had a badge actually, but he almost never had it with him.

The guards usually didn't talk to workers like Yampa's alias, though the men did try to flirt with the women workers from time to time. It was almost like they thought of themselves as so much more supieror compared to the "average" workers of The Cartel.

Almost? They did! Coming from the one who thought he was better than the security guards.

Nevertheless, as Andrew passed the guards, he could not help flinching. Carly glanced over at him, and Yampa realized what he had done. Instantly, he held his head higher, reminding himself that not all the guards were out to kill people. They were just security guards. For The Cartel. Andrew let out a sigh as they reached two empty booths close to the end of the line of booths.

One man stepped out of a booth nearby. When he spotted Andrew and Carly, he started towards them. Yampa pretended to not notice, and ignored the man. Carly, on the other hand, stepped forward warily.