"Yeah, thats exactly what I was thinking too... this definately aint no simple run." Colin says shaking his head and frowning.
"I got a bad feelin' 'bout this man."
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"Yeah, thats exactly what I was thinking too... this definately aint no simple run." Colin says shaking his head and frowning.
"I got a bad feelin' 'bout this man."
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Dizzy cocks an eyebrow.
"Bad feeling? Shit, a bad feeling is too much Indian food before a night out. This is a whole lot worse. 'Sides, I bet you've been inna worse situation, right?"
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Colin chuckles just slightly, but his eyes show a sort of far-away look to them for a moment. "Yeah, I've been through alot worse. Too many officers thinking they no more than the enlisted..." He says with a wry sarcastic tone of disgust.
His thoughts drift back... to dragging two soldiers under his command, both had been caught in a cross-fire, injured, and bleeding out. Colin and the rest of his men had managed to drop back into cover and secure their position. Fucking ignorant officers calling orders and not knowing what the hell was going on. Two men died from that cross-fire...
Friendly fire....
Colin shook the memory from his head. "We've been through worse." He says with a wink.
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Dizzy listens, not saying much. When his sandwich arrived, he bit into it and kept his thoughts to himself. When that didn't help, Dizzy looks round.
"This is so screwed."
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"Yep, sounds about right." Colin says taking another bite from his steak, finishing it. It almost felt like a last meal.
"You ready to call Monica and see if she's got anything? We might be able to do this without it needing to be on the road."
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"Sure."
Dizzy pulls out his phone and presses a couple of buttons.
Monica = speed-dial; Just in case.
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Walking into the diner with the plans in hand and her phone at her ear, Monica flashes Dizzy a mischievous grin as she answers his phone call.
"What up?"
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"Hey honey, just wondering what time you're coming home for dinner?"
Dizzy looks up and smiles back before hitting the cancel buttn.
"All went well?"
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Monica's grin folds itself into a smirk as she hangs up her phone.
"Five by five. So, what'd you make me for dinner, Cupcake?"
Monica sets the tube holding the plans in the middle of the table. She looks from Dizzy to Colin and waits to see which man moves over first to give her room to sit down.
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Colin, as a combination of still feeling a little lingering sting of shame from the ass-grab, and scottish gentlemanry, slides over in his seat to make room for Monica with a small shy smile. He still felt kinda bad, but you cant fight the hand that fate deals you.
"So, you got the prints, we might not have to shit bricks afterall." He says, with a hopeful caste to his face.
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