Little Blue World: Installment #2

Chapter 4

They all arrived at the hotel and took all their bags up (except the bag full of books; service men and service elevator had to handle that) to their rooms. Sarah had taken Rebecca's thesis to read about the proposed work. Sarah was also hanging out in Benedict's suite (yes, suite). He always read over her shoulder, so thats what he was doing.

Rebecca laid down on her bed, in more of a floppy manner. She turned her phone back on to see at least 5 billion texts from Nate.

Half of them were about how Benedict "just left without a trace," and how "She left the lie detector all willy nilly."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and stretched a large stretch.

Vych had the room next to her, so she knocked on his door. He opened it quicker than she could finish knocking, so he got clocked right in his chest. That's just how tall he was.

"Hello, dear. Did you know they televise the Russian Ballet here? Would you like to enjoy it with me?" Vyacheslav asked.

"No. While I find it just as beautiful as you do, I'm writing," Rebecca told him.

Everyone in their group had received a lawyer and an agent (as in Press agent), and a manager (as in Public Relations manager). At one point, each and everyone of these people met, along with their clients, to discuss the group as a collective good.

Many people wanted to fly under the radar and just continue on with their lives. However, Nate, Sarah, Benedict, Rebecca, Vyacheslav, and Jazmine wanted Public Relations. They wanted to make this thing big.

So, as a decision, Rebecca would right a book about the experience, along with a book with Vyacheslav about the necessity of feminism in an increasingly masculine world.

Also, Benedict would write a book about the experience and a book with Sarah about the necessity of cops in an increasingly dangerous world.

And Nate would write an autobiography, and collaborate with Jazmine to create a series of biographies about their friends.

Benedict already had his book published, and Nate was having his edited. The only things left were the collaborative books, and Rebecca's book.

Benedict's book was flying off he shelves faster than the press could print them.

Even currently, a director was making a movie based on their situation. They had already come to an agreement that they weren't selling their stories, but they wouldn't sue for the director using them.

Rebecca carried her laptop over to the sofa where Vyacheslav sat. "You've been working a lot," he told her.

Rebecca shot him a glance. "Don't get all touchy feely now, Vyacheslav. That's not why I date you," she responded with a snap.

Vyacheslav sighed. "I should've sent us to Paris. Russia is going through hard times," Vyacheslav said sadly.

"We're not leaving now. It's for the best anyway, Vych. You know Russia better," She told him.

"Blin!" He shouted. "I'm a Russian Country boy! I know nothing about the city!"

"Blin?" Rebecca questioned.

"I thought you knew Russian," He responded.

It took her a minute. "Oh right...darn it!" Rebecca exclaimed back.</p>

"Lucky guess," Vyacheslav noted. Rebecca shrugged.

"Ya tebya lyublyu, dorogoy," She told him. Or easily translated as: I love you, darling.

"Ya ne mogu zhit bez tebya," He responded. Or translated as: I can't live without you.

"Oh shut up. Your such a flirt," she responded.

"Such a flirt. But an adorable Russian as well. Sooo..."

She giggled and then they heard a knock at the door.

"Stop flirting. We've gotta move," Benedict said calmly at the door.

"Dork. I'm coming," Vyacheslav said standing up.

He whipped open the door quicker than Benedict could finish knocking (again) and got clocked in the throat.

He started coughing hard. "Sorry about that," Benedict said calmly before walking inside of the room.

"We have a white envelope," Benedict said.

"With Anthrax in it probably! Hand it over!" Vyacheslav demanded.

Benedict handed it over sadly. Vyacheslav put on a pair of gloves and a mask. Then he handed one to both of them.

"Turn the air off. If there's anything in this we don't want it spreading through the building," Vyacheslav ordered his lab partner, Rebecca.

"Hand it over. I'm the doctor," Rebecca said.

"Well I've dealt with International Terrorists," Vyacheslav responded. "And frankly, I want to keep you safe."

Rebecca sighed as Vyacheslav slowly cut the letter opener through the envelope.

No white powder burst through the air.

"Seems good," he said.

"Open the letter," Rebecca ordered him.

He gave her a quick snappy look, then opened the letter.

No white powder or any powder for that matter.

Vyacheslav took out a small vial with a new chemical called Trihydrogen Octane Carbonate. Which would illuminate the page in a bright green if any toxins were found (since its a very reactive chemical).

Rebecca watched intensely.

Nothing happened.

"Masks off," Vyacheslav said ripping his off quickly.

"All it says is Scotland. Any significance to you guys, or Sarah?" Vyacheslav asked.

"Scotland? Nothing," Benedict said. "My GP is from Scotland. That's it."

Sarah came racing in. "You needed me? Scotland? Nothing I know of."

"Just a little bit of a significance," Rebecca said.

"Please don't say someone you knew from school," Vyacheslav begged.

"Sorry," She said.