Karmatic Knight (Garthe Knight is FLAG's Prisoner)

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Victory was the Foundations at last!! Garthe's arrogance had finally done him in. As if, that would have been any genuine surprise to anyone who had ever had the misfortune of becoming acquainted with him through the pursuits of business or pleasure.

Garthe sure made quite a spectacle behind bars, all bundled up like a twisted Christmas package. The only things missing were the big dainty bow and the oversize tag reading directly from Hell to the Foundation. For the briefest of moments, Bonnie Barstow ventures to wonder if the House of Eternal Infernos and Suffering accepts returns. It certainly wouldn't be hard to regift this prize to humanity to its sender, given his extensive record of human rights violations and crimes. Hopefully, if Hell was indeed gracious enough to take returns, it would also believe in the policy of no-give-backs. Especially, this time around.

For now, the brunette would have to tolerate the prisoner seated in the semi's sturdy make-shift prison. One that had, admittedly, been built just to contain the force of nature Garthe could be.

Having to transport him anywhere wasn't ideal given their past experiences with him and his penchant for finding unorthodox escape routes. Bonnie had been made aware of his successful flight by crawling out of the thatched roof. This time, his valiant attempt to hijack the FLAG Mobile Command Unit had been promptly thwarted by the combined thinking of Michael Knight, Bonnie, and Kitt. Unfortunately, they were given little option other than to transport him to his destination themselves. Especially, when the local Police insisted that they were severely understaffed and incapable of babysitting someone as violent as Wilton Knight's blood son.

Sympathy was the furthest emotion from her mind at his loudly issued gripe. If he thought she was ignorant enough to fall for that trick, he had another thing coming. With a weasel like Garthe, there are a host of reasons as to why the ropes had to be secured brutally tight. Personal safety tops the list.

Her lips turn upwards into a cheeky grin when she allows herself to fully consider his discomfiture. If observing him pent up like an angry animal at the zoo was the only form of retribution the Foundation would get for all he had put them through, then she was going to relish it. Of course, there is an obligatory stack of paperwork awaiting her attention. But it could wait. Right?

"Should'a thought about that when you were making things difficult." She sassily returns, unable to mask the amusement in her tone. Her turquoise hues come to life with buoyant mirth. "You could have had things easier and a lot more comfortable if you hadn't tried to abscond with the semi and if you weren't so intent on killing people." The treatment he received was well-merited after the years of torment he inflicted upon his father's organization and innocent third-parties. She'd even venture to suggest that he deserved far worse for his brash behaviors. Watching him receive a couple of nice lashings would be a nice start.

The brunette's gaze begrudgingly sweeps towards the computer monitor. She chews the innermost part of her lip considering if she should tack on a crueler statement. Deciding it was safe to make the utterance from this distance, she adds, "besides, with where you're going, this will seem like a day at the spa. So enjoy it while you can."

For all she cares, he can put her on his next hit-list. He'd only be about five-hundred-years-old by the time he gets out. Her fingers set about typing. The rhythmic sound of the clicking keys aiding her sense of security. 

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