Dawn's Razor (Editting)

Night #1 Continued- Learning

"One thing I've learned about learning; you can never learn enough on how to learn."

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I couldn't stop myself from narrowing my eyes and feeling some sort of paranoid terror at hearing those words come from my old mates mouth.  It took me a few seconds to get my grip and have a dozen choices run through my head how to react to this.  With positivity, that E. R. C. does mean something to me... Or with negativity, that E. R. C. doesn't mean anything to me... Or with indifference, 'what's E. R. C.?', etc.  I went with neither of those choices.

I completely ignored the question.

"Give me your bowtie," I demanded.

"What?" George looked at me like I had told him to strip.

"The damned bowtie, Geo." I repeated, holding my hand out.

He looked at me for a few seconds with a frown before shaking his head.

"The bowtie or get the hell out of here." I was furious.

"I ain't giving it up," George said.  I was about to tear it off of him or show him out my door when he untied his bow and handed it to me.  He sent a signal to me with his eyes and I knew what it meant. 'If they find out I agreed with you, I'm in deep shit'.

So I was right.  He had a secret security transmitter on him.  I did something unexpected.  I punched my old mate in the face enough to leave a busted lip and a bruised eye.  He cursed and looked at me in disbelief, touching his bleeding lip.  "What the fuck you do that for, dude?"

I smirked.  "That's for not giving me the bowtie, friend." If George wanted to play along with this little game making him look innocent, then so would I.  "Now get the hell out of my home!" I sent him a signal of my own and he caught it instantly.

All the while he wiped the blood off his face I had been turning the heater down, dressing in my warmest clothes, gloves, shoes, hat, and leather coats.  My old mate shook his head in more disbelief before spitting.  "You'll regret this, Tredder, you sorry bastard."

I snickered as I fixed the bowtie around my own neck and waved George goodbye, mouthing the words 'Stay put', before opening my door and resetting the program to GOC, (George Onncan Confirmation).  Closing the door behind me I pulled my collar up, pulled my scarf and hat down nice and comfy over my still partially sweating body, and gripped my sheathed weapons comfortably while I headed down the hall of my apartment.

When I went down 16 floors down the elevator shaft and to the main floor I looked around outside, using only my eyes without moving my neck.  I looked around for very inconspicuous sight, perhaps a chainer or cara painted in black with a bit of neon glitter junk that half of the paint jobs are done nowadays.  It would definitely have tinted windows and maybe a guy wearing flashy clothes smoking a cigarette.

I was partially right.  The chainer was there... It was midnight blue, and there was a man wearing flashy clothes smoking a cigarette, and he was heading my way.  I walked casually, pretending not to notice him, when he intercepted my path and exchanged a glance with behind his dark IE.

"Nice work, Onncan." The man muttered when I handed him a spare bowtie.

It was too dark to see his face but his voice was familiar, and the cigarette smelled like Camel brand.  "The gift," I replied in an equally low voice.