The Quest for Someguy's Sunglasses or Strike of the Beecat

The members of the Beecat Army were looking at a certain file that their Queen gave them. They had a stakeout later on tonight, and they had to know who they were trying to get. The file contained a full-faced and profile picture of a teen boy with messy brown hair and green-blue eyes. Along that picture was a full page information on the kid, which reads as follows:

FULL NAME: Charles Ferland
NICKNAME(S): Someguy3657, Chuck
SEX: Male
AGE: 17
BIRTH DATE: 1994-04-27

After that were a whole bunch of information on how he looks, how much he weights, the address of his house, and all that. Near the bottom of the page were the following:

PRISONNER NUMBER: 2999131
GUILTY OF: High treason against Her Majesty The Queen, Robbery attempt against Her Majesty The Queen, Jaywalking
PUNISHMENT: Severe beating, captivity for a week
CURRENT STATUS: Free, but under surveillance

The rest of the files contained interrogations and other things concerning this criminal. But who is he, anyways?

He's simply a young man who lived a rather mundane life in Quebec. At least, mundane as it is described by the members of The Treehouse. One day however, his sunglasses were seized from his person by a moderator of the land and Queen of the Beecats who went by the name of "Rare," for reasons he did not know. He politely asked her many times if he could have them back, but ever time, his request was denied. Refusing to let what he thought was an injustice befall him, Someguy attempted to steal back his sunglasses. This theft attempt on an official failed, and Someguy was punished, his body nearly broken by the tooth and claw of the unforgiving moderator. As if that wasn't enough, as soon as his friend and medical officer AwesomeMedic placed him in bandages, he was arrested by the Beecat Army, where he got interrogated and held captive. Slowly he recovered, and after a few more interrogations and pictures, the boy returned to his home, disenheartened.

But those troubles were not the end for the man known as Someguy, for the audacity of his crime is reason enough for surveillance to watch his home for all hours of the day and night. And if he took any action that could be considered grounds for arrest, that could be the last anyone would ever hear from him.

Someguy wasn't going to let this get in the way of getting back his sunglasses, though. During the week of imprisonment, he planned a whole new attempt that would not only get his glasses back, but allow him to come back in Rare's good eye. As soon as he got out, he contacted a man, totally on the outside, and his plan was simple: the man was going to sneak into Rare's quarters at night, and steal a whole bunch of stuff, including the sunglasses. He would then go drop these off into an undisclosed location, where Someguy would come and pick them up. Someguy would then just have to come up to Rare and say that he saw a man robbing her, and that he managed to get the stuff back. He would give the stuff back, but ask if he could simply keep his glasses as a reward. Rare would've no doubt accepted, seeing as how he brought back her stolen things. Then, Someguy would meet back with the "robber", and pay him lots of money.

However, fate didn't smile in Someguy's favor. The man, once he snuck into Rare's room, set off an alarm, and quickly got cornered. In an attempt to save his own life, the man confessed that a boy with brown hair told him to do it. Rare immediately knew who was behind this. She took a whole day to set things up with her troops, and they readied themselves to arrest the criminal tonight.

The story begins on that night.

Charles was alone in his house, playing some GTA SA on the computer. Her younger sisters were asleep, her mother and older sister were gone for the evening, and his father was gone to work for the week. He was completely alone. Suddenly, as he was about to shoot a cop, the doorbell rang. Wondering who could come by at this hour, he paused his game and went upstairs. He headed towards the front door, but the bell rang some more, and, to his surprise, it was the back door. He went to it, and, instead of seeing someone, he simply noticed he received an unmarked package. He brings it inside, and opens it. In it, he finds a vibrating cellphone. Against his better judgment, he answers it.

"Uhhh...hello?" the young boy asked. A mysterious voice answered.

"Please, stay on the line Someguy. But be quiet when you speak, they're scoping you out as I talk to you. I'll need you to grab a couple of cans of Raid, as much as you can carry without being too encumbered. Worst case scenario, you'll be able to go down fighting."

"Who is this? And who's scoping me out?"

"Look out of the window in your living room."

The boy went to his living room and peeked out of the window. To his shocked horror, he saw an angry Rare stare back at him, and beside her, a whole bunch of Beecats. Someguy swore like a sailor under his breath. He quickly grabbed his boots and his coat and headed towards the back door. He then heard a strange noise and a sudden chill, and peaked down the hall, to see that the door was vaporized. Rare was floating in midair in the door, watching him. Charles doubted he ever tied his boots faster than at that moment. The cellphone voice said:

"Run, I'll provide a distraction, but you'll have to use all of the time it gives you to escape."

The line then dies. Charles pockets the cellphone and sees the Mew closing in on him.

As if on cue, a bear, who almost seems to have come out of nowhere, barrels down the street in the direction of the moderator. This gives Someguy time to run, as Rare's attention turns to vaporizing the charging ursa. Someguy sprints in the other direction, looking around him, hoping no Beecat were on his tail, but failing to realize the open manhole in front of him. He lands on a raft, just as a mysterious, dirty bearded figure hands him a light and a map, before vanishing just as quickly as he arrived, closing the manhole above him. The kid is wondering what the heck is going on right now. He takes a few deep, but silent breaths as he hears things over him, but he has no indication as to what it is. He focuses on the map the weird bearded man gave him. It shows a few different pathways through the sewers of Quebec, ending somewhere near the Chateau Frontenac. With nothing else to do, he sets the raft and follows the pathways, the torch lighting the way.
Someguy must now escape the wrath of Rare, and find out who these apparent allies are and why they want to help him.

For the fourth day in a row, a small, dog-like figure remained alone in a cave deep beneath the earth's surface. He stirred away at a cauldron, which contained a Violet aqueous substance; gloopy in parts, owing to the presence of blood, and various assortments of Bubble Gum.
He sighed as he stirred the mixture for the fourty-seventh revolution, which made another familiar clang, as the pestle knocked the sides of the great, black vat.
"It's the fourth day she's been gone. She never goes out on assassination or kidnap missions for this long. Usually she'll just report straight back with a small token from her victim and leave me to make Ice-Cream & Brownies." He sighed, looking longingly at the oven, which remained disappointingly closed. "The Ice-Cream has gone out of date, and the Brownies have lost their chewiness."
He stirred for the fiftieth, and final time, before dismounting the stool he stood on, and slumping on the sofa in front of the Television, which had a Pink-Cat frame surrounding it.
It didn't contrast with the rest of the lair, which was made up mainly of monotone greys and blacks, but the occasional pink wasn't missing. The large room he was in was comprised of a dining area, a parlour, and a torture chamber, which was next to the Petting Zoo (this contained several small sheep).
He flicked the remote on the television, and engaged in a spot of channel-surfing, which was as much exercise as he had gotten in the past week. Perusing the news, the Travel Channel, and the dodgy 900-line channels, he found nothing about the possible whereabouts of his companion. The thought that she was fighting a formidable opponent never crossed his mind; if there was anything remotely more powerful than Spooky, she would have dealt with it long ago.
Another long, drawn-out sigh assured him that he was tired, and that she would, disappointingly, be out hunting for the rest of the night.
It was either the fact that he missed having a companion, or that he hadn't done much in the days prior that had made him so docile and tired. Or the fact that they were still hiding from the local Police, with regards to an unpaid tour of the local Sanrio Factory.
Either way, the little dog made his way to the side of the sofa, and rested himself in a small nest made of hay, and one pillow, with a small, plush Seal to accompany him.
Maybe the next day, he would feel better.

Ever vigilant, Dewmann prepared to "sterilize" his cellphone again, minimizing the chance of being tracked. Thoughts raced through his head at an alarming pace. Charles Ferland, just some guy who happened to ride himself into a situation that could mean elimination from the outside world at best, was now on the run, and until Dewmann called him again, "Chuck" was on his own.
Double checking to make sure the phone was set to factory settings, Dewmann turned it off, and proceeded to carefully dismantle it, making sure he could put it back together again, before leaving the parts laying neatly on the chestnut coffee table in his den. The GPS chip in it had already been removed, left behind a dumpster a few blocks away. If he got traced, Dewmann figured it was his fault for not taking enough precautions. The phone itself would stay in pieces for the next few hours until it was certain that Someguy had either reached his destination, or was captured. Should the former occur, Dewmann would give further instructions to the fugitive, if the latter, then there was nothing to do but wait for punishment, as he watched his carefully laid out plans crumble due to one mistake.
"So this is why revolution doesn't happen often." he dryly joked to himself.
Walking to the rec room just a door away from the den, Dewmann approached the futon against the back wall. It growled, and started to raise up, but whimpered and submitted when a Kali stick was brandished in its direction.
"Good boy." Dewmann spoke to the furniture, sitting down on it, before picking up whatever book was on the nearby table.
Fahrenheit 451. It was enough to keep him occupied for the remainder of the wating period.

The map took Someguy down a tunnel that wouldn't be found on the city plans, one that was built long after Quebec was.
Someguy head a cheerful, femimine, humming down the tunnel. Eventually he made it to a room. Like any room, it had 4 walls, including the wall that Someguy came in through. On one of the other walls, a large hole was high up on it, to high for Someguy to get to.
He jumped off his raft and stood on solid ground. The humming echoed off the walls, and then suddenly stopped.
A great rumbling filled the room and when Someguy turned to face the sound, the entrence had a large stone rolled over it.
A purpulish ball flew inches away from Someguy's head. It exploded as it hit a wall across the room.
"Don't move. That was a warning shot. You take anouther step, you die. What is your name?" said a young woman's voice.

"Nothing, ma'am. We looked all over the block, but we can't find him. It's almost like he disappeared."

Rare took a deep sigh as one of her Generals told her this news. Great, now it's gonna take longer, simply because Charles didn't want to come quietly. She wanted this quick and simple, so she could get back to her room to watch "Criminal Minds". But it looks like he felt like adding "resisting arrest" to his list of crimes. Fine by her.

She looked over to the boy's sisters, who were wide awake in the kitchen right now and were rather scared of this whole ordeal. One of her other generals was trying to explain to them that everything was absolutely fine, and that they simply wanted to capture their older brother because he was a traitor and a thief, and that he would simply serve a very large punishment for his wrongdoing. The whole house was overrun by the army, and Rare was hoping the neighbors upstairs and downstairs of this triplex wouldn't call the Police. She sighed again at the thought of more problems. She then turns to the general who gave her this piece of information, and said:

"Look harder. The boy can't do magic, so he's hidden somewhere."

The general nodded and went outside in the cold weather to continue his search.

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Charles placed both hands high up, where whoever that was could see them. He had to get across this room and continue on foot down the pathways to get to destination, but doing so with a mouth full of lead wasn't going to help matters.

"A-alright, let's just calm down for a second, my name is Charles. I just want to pass, nothing else."

He was surprised the female voice was in English, even though he lived in a French speaking city. He heard noise of what he thought were probably footsteps. He tried to get a small peak at who it was, but it was kinda hard to look at someone behind you without moving too much.

"And, may I ask, why do you want to pass?" asked the girl.

"Look...t-to be honest here, I doubt you would believe me even if I told you."

"Try me."

"Well, ok...I'm currently on the run from what you could call a Pokemon who has, in her disposal, an army of beecats, and a strange voice on a cellphone that was delivered to me is telling me that I have to go across here." He said all this rather quickly. Boy, he can't believe that 10 minutes ago, he was playing a video game on his computer. The voice behind him laughed. He could blame her for thinking this was BS. He'd think the same if someone told him that.

Someguy then felt a shiver past him as the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against his neck. He tried to reason.

"L-listen, I...I wouldn't b-be telling you this if the-there wasn't some truth b-behind it...I mean, you...you have me...aimed at with your gun, so I'd b-be willing to tell you th-the truth..."

He bit his lip as silence fell on the two.

Someguy was fliped around. It was Emma.
"So Charles, we meet again. If you wern't so important to us, I'd kill you for what happened on Mars. OK, Bell you can stand down now," Emma said.
Someguy looked up to see a Mismagius hovering above with a purplish ball like the one that flew past Someguy floting by it. The energy faded, so did the sirous look on her face.
"Finnaly he came! Awlright Emma, cover yer ears, I don't wanna have ta use Psychic on both ya'll. I don't have the energy to do it and we can't have him know the way into our base, now do we?" Bell said in a sing-song voice.
Emma didn't do anything, she needed some sleep anyways. The graveyard shift was not working for her.
"Fine, suit ya self." Bell said in a half anoyed, half cheery voice. This was her favoret part of leting people into the base.
Beutiful, haunting singing fill the room and echoed off the walls. Someguy suddenly felt extramly tired, and soon he was on the ground passed out.
Whene he woke up, he was in a dark room with Bell and Emma.
"Awlright, ya'll wait here for a moment," Bell said as she began to leave the room. So stoped, turned and said "Wait a second, who has the dough, you or whoever we're delivern' you to?"

Charles was rubbing his eyes a bit. He must admit; the sleep was good, if somewhat short. It took him a few more seconds to finaly get the question.

''Dough? What dough? And who are you talking about? Who are you delivering me to? Look,'' he said as he was rising. A small headache accompanied him on the way up. Great. ''I don't know what the hell you two want, and, personally, I don't care. What happened on Mars was an act of self defense, nothing more. I just want to get going before Rare shows up. Oh, and one last thing; what time is it?''

The Mismagius simply smiled and answered the last question first.

''Aroun' 2:00 AM, Quebec time.''

2 AM? The boy remembers that it was around 10 PM when he noticed Rare outside of his house.

Someguy looked down at his old nemesis, Emma, who was still asleep. He then looked at the door opening behind the Pokemon. He had no clue how powerful she was, but that was his only way out, and he intended to use it. But first, he was gonna get a bit more info.

''You still didn't answer my first few questions...''

Reassembling the phone was tricky in low light, but Dewmann managed. It was 1:00 in the morning in Dewmann's time zone, which, thankfully, was only an hour behind Quebec's, so that was hardly a factor he had to take into account. He clicked the final few pieces of the phone into place, and switched it on. Already having the other phone on speedial, Dewmann hit a button, and silently prayed Someguy had evaded Rare's fury.

Tuomey drank from a bottle of whiskey as he climbed out of the sewer and sauntered past a mangled bear corpse, wondering where the hell he could find some nightlife. He turned to face the road as a car approached, stepped back into shadow and leapt atop it for a quick lift downtown.

Some hours later he stumbled out of a burning nightclub just behind some local tough guy, who swears visciously at him in French. Taking offence to this, the hobo takes a few burning embers, pulls quickly at the man's collar and drops them inside the shirt. As the unfortunate Quebeçois flailed and slapped at himself, Tuomey realised he needed to disappear or run.

He didn't want to run. So he melted a manhole with a fireball and dropped into the dark.
A similiarly bearded, scruffy figure watched him go from a nearby doorway, before shuffling off as the fire brigade appeared.

From his nest, the small dog-thing emerged, yawning and stretching as he went. He rubbed his eyes in a fatigued manner as he poured some Coffee into a small, pink mug in the Kitchen Area. Upon returning to the Sofa, turning on the Television, he was disappointed to see that there had been no sign of his companion cat. The Television switched onto the news, where a report of a European-influenced Seasonal Market was being shown. The woman presenting seemed quite flustered as she was surrounded by Italian Pizzaolos and Sausage-mongering Germans in traditional Lederhosen.
Esbby sighed as he watched a Pizza being made in the Hungarian Stall, where ingredients such as Electromagnetic Rhubarb where being added. From this Pizza, he suddenly had the urge to get a snack - so he got up, and returned to the kitchen area where he took a bowl and poured himself some generic Chocolate Crispy Puffs.
He returned to the Sofa, to find a new report of disturbance in Québec. It was here that he stopped chewing his cereal; for he had heard an uncanny description of his Companion:
"Wings and Antennae only to be found on a fluffy body, which from the feline-head emits Meows as loud as Jet planes taking off - Is this something from a horror film, or a Children's fairy tale?"
Esbby put the bowl of cereal down and picked up the newspaper which had just fallen through the door - It was delivered by a local Chatot, who had no allegiance to the Police who sought them.
He ruffled the paper, and found that there were pictures of Bees and Cats on the very same page, with the heading;
"Ils viennent de vous prendre!"
Esbby roughly translated this as 'They come to take you!" But he threw down the paper in disgust - people never seemed to understand them;
"Sure, we harm people; but we only do it for good reasons!" he thought to himself, slumping back down on the sofa and knocking his cereal over as he did so. "Nobody makes fools of us without proper authorisation!" he thought, indignantly.
But as much as he wanted to go and help, he was tired, and Spooky had told him to stay low as she went about her business. He honoured that, even begrudgingly at times - especially when the TV didn't receive good signal through the ground.
As far as he was concerned, his role was to act as if he never existed; serving only as Spooky's source of information outside the city in which she prowled for her target.

Meanwhile an ominous dust cloud hovered nearby, watching the house intensely. From a passerby it would appear to be just this, as strange as the sight would be. However, to the small mew inside the cloud, the small particles of dust revealed themselves to be bees clustered together in an angry fashion, listening to their leader as the pokemon whispered instructions to her thousands of bee sisters. Slowly, the cloud began to move under the house where a man named Someguy now resided. The mew squinted her eyes and placed a pair of shiny new black sunglasses over her face.

"And so it begins."

A pink light covers Bell's eyes for a breif moment. Her expession turned to puzzlement, then to anger.
Someguy was thrown against the wall by an invisible force and was pinned there by it.
"Well, you seem rather eager to get out of here. And don't cha lie bout' wantn' out. There was sumptn' suspishus bout' yar eyes, so I used Future Sight and saw ya dashn' out the door. One would wonder why...," Bell said in a calm tone.
Someguy was pressed increadably harder agaist the wall as Bell screamed, "WHO ARE YA WORKN' FOR!?! Felix Gang? Hunters? Drexains? Assassins Guild? Or ya a merc? TELL ME!"

The phone in Someguy's pocket began to vibrate audibly, as Dewmann awaited a response from the fugitive.

Charles felt nearly crushed against the wall. He had a bit of trouble breathing, and he knew that a bit more force from the Pokemon could crush every single bone in his body as if they were toothpicks. Worst of all, he felt and heard the cellphone vibrate a bit in his pocket. He was hoping that his captor couldn't hear it. He started talking, hoping to block out the sound.

"I don't work for anybody! I swear! I just wanted to pass because I'm on the run!" He suddenly felt some more pressure on his throat, chocking him against the wall. He could see that the Mismagius was furious at him. He couldn't even breath anymore. He finished his sentence in a voice that was becoming more and more faint. "I-I...didn't even know...you guys were there..."

Emma woke up and saw what was happening. She debated with her self if to do anything or not.
Then she steped for forward and grabed Bell by the shoulder.
"Don't kill him you idot! He is THE client, the one that will settle our dept with the Drexains. If he was eger to get out of here, then you should've remembered that Dewmann said he wouldn't know what was going on. Besides, if he was able to find his way through here, then he has the map, meaning he's a client," Emma said rather quickly.
Bell let Someguy drop to the floor and apaligized. Emma quickly snach the phone from Someguy and anserwed it.
"We got him Dewmann. But you and Katls have to work a cirtem delivery issue to work out before we take him anywhere," Emma said into the phone's speaker.

The Mew, hidden in the shadows of the house, listened with an amused expression as the scenario before her unfolded. Her target laid, panting against the wall in a desperate attempt to regain breath, as his teammates argued amongst themselves. Finally one spoke over a phone.

"We got him Dewmann."

The Mew cocked her head and turned to some lingering bee sisters behind her. "Do we have a file on this..Dewmann?" The bees spoke something only the mew could understand. "Excellent. Retrieve it at once. I has a plan."

Charles coughed a bit while trying to regain breath. He had no clue about anything that was going on right now, but all he wanted was to go back home with his sunglasses and continue to play some GTA. He was hoping his sisters were ok; they were annoying, yes, but they were family nonetheless. He kept glancing around the room while leaning against the wall. A few things caught his eyes; the door leading out into an empty hallway, some food and hay in storage inside the room, the Mismagius, still eyeing him cautiously, his old enemy Emma talking to the mysterious voice like they were business partners, making him wonder if he had been stupid enough to fall into a trap, something pink near the outside window, a broken bench in the co-

Wait.

Someguy focused his whole vision on the window. He saw a quick glimpse of something pink before it dissapeared.

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

Without a warning, Someguy snatched the cellphone out of Emma's hands and told ''Dewmann'':

''Hey, uh...I think Rare might be outside....''

The call went dead.

"Emma, There's no time for a delivery I need to get Someguy now." Dewmann objected, before he heard Someguy's frantic voice.

"Hey, uh...I think Rare might be outside..."

Abruptly after that, the line was cut.

Now they were up shit creek without a paddle.

He pocketed the phone, figuring that Rare would find him, whether she used the other phone or not, Dewmann walked through his house at a brisk pace, grabbing packs of food, a few cans of Raid, a spray bottle filled with water, and packed them all into the bag containing his weaponry that was already stored inside should this day have ever come sooner.

Stepping out the door, in the dead of a chill night, he had no specific idea what he was going to do next. But it all came down to two objectives.

1. Find Someguy

2. Take out Rare.

Mew squinted her eyes as she watched the man known as Dewmann pocket his cellphone. Her psychic waves had distorted the cellphone call, and she knew for the next few hours telephone communications would be jammed. It gave her plenty of time. She summoned up a new wave of bees.

"Take him out."

Expecting to hear the droning of dozens of angry insects, Dewmann had already prepared two cans of Raid, and waited, motionless, for them. Daring them.
All at once, the bees emerged from the darkness, eager to kill for their queen. Raising the cans up, Dewmann pressed down, and began to spray death upon them all. At once, he realized that while his plan of attack may have looked awesome from any possible outside onlookers, it still was not the best strategy. He began to sprint away, only to realize that they were faster than he was, as he felt a stinging sensation on his exposed hand. Deciding that either they all had to die or he did, Dewmann shoved his back into the surface of a nearby house, putting all bees comming at him within range of firing.
A few painful minutes later, Dewmann collapsed into a sitting position against the wall, panting heavily, surrounded by his would be assassins. Some were already dead, some were on the ground still writhing in agony as the chemicals seared into them. Dewmann had not come out completely unscathed either. Most of the stings were on the back of his neck, and he thanked God that he was not allergic. Taking some time to regain his bearings and deal with the pain, Dewmann soon found himself struggling back to a standing position. He still had a mission, and he'd make sure Rare would pay.

The mew rubbed her hands together, her ears twitching as she thought through her plan. By now, Dewmann would surely be dead. She closed her eyes and calmed her mind as she felt her body shift. A group of new bees surrounded their queen, their low hums resonating in excitement. Their queen, once a mew, now stood, a young male. She unjammed the phone lines, picked up a cellphone, and dialed a number.

"Someguy? This is Dewmann. Where can I meet you?"

A hobo climbed up from a manhole outside a supermarket. He looked around, gathering his bearings, surprised to note a fistful of pain coming his way.
He ducked and the fist glanced off his head, leaving him off balance as another hobo tried to kick him in the chest.

He jumped quickly backward and up, grabbing the attacking hobo by the ankle and swinging as hard as he could, banking his whole body into it, throwing the hobo against the supermarket wall. As the attacker fell, several more came from a side alley, holding the defender against the wall as one removed a small crossbow from his jacket and shot him in the right-hand shoulder, sticking him to the wall with a special bolt.

He was too busy concentrating on his perforated clavicle to do anything as the hobos disappeared as quickly as they had come.
"I'll find you!" he shouted after them, as the bolt finally came free. He bound his shoulder and wandered into the shop to pick up some supplies, oblivious to the shocked stares of the various customers and staff but aware that the police would be there soon. He needed to move now. The rebels were far more mobilised than he though. Surely she wouldn't... He would find out.

Someguy, Emma and Bell were currently running down a few underground alleys. Once the phone line died, they didn't waste any time. Bell opened up a small trapdoor in the house, showing a hole with a ladder leading lower down. Someguy didn't feel like following his nemeses down a lone tunnel, but he didn't feel like meeting Rare's wrath either. Bell went first, lighting the way with a purple energy ball, Someguy followed her and Emma finished the small parade while keeping an eye on the boy. The pathways were small, and Charles had to crouch a bit to move along. They were halfway down into the tunnel when the cellphone rang again. Bell and Emma looked over at Someguy, who slowly reached the phone and answered it. A male voice said into the speaker:

"Someguy? This is Dewmann. Where can I meet you?"

Someguy didn't know if he should smile or frown. He was glad nothing happened to him, but then again, he had no clue what him, Emma and Katls wanted, so he couldn't fully consider them allies. But for now, he had no choice. He answered:

"We'll meet in front of the "Musée de la civilisation". Make sure you're not followed."

Dewmann answered, with what sounded like a bit of excitement:

"Good. I'll meet you guys there."

Someguy hung up the phone. Something was odd, he could feel it, he and the two others kept going.

A pink light flooded over Bell's eyes like earlier, and when it disspered, her face filled with panic and the same invisible force flung the cell phone into a wall. It was effectivly distroyed.
"That was Rare. I had to distroy that phone or she would've been able to track us. We wouldn't want her to be able to find our base. Now let me explain something to you Charles, me and Emma are gangsters, the only reason that we and our gang is helping you is that we're being paid to bring you to the local rebel group. It's enough to settle a few depts. But suffer no delusions, if we get caught, we're turning you over, and if nessiary, tell them where your base is. And anoghter thing, it's almost dawn, so for the time being, your staying at owr base until dusk. We have too many enameys on the surface to risk our members for some loser like you or your freinds to being spotted by them and getting killed." Bell said.