Chapter Six

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Chapter 6 

Samantha White's Flat 

Colorado

Beep. "Area: Lawn security has been activated," spoke an electric voice.

I rolled over in bed. I glanced at the digital clock. Perfect, 4:10 am.

Beep. "Area: Backyard security has been activated."

"Alright. Alright. I get it." I pushed myself out of bed, pulling over my favorite orange hoodie over my white tank top. When I returned home, I swapped my 'slut' outfit with comfortable grey sweatpants and an old, cut up orange sweatshirt that hung of my right shoulder. To match my sweatshirt, I covered my feet with bright orange socks that had the words 'peace, love, laugh' written all over. My sock covered feet patted into the kitchen and made myself a pot of coffee.

Deftly, I hopped up onto the counter, sitting right next to the coffee maker. I pulled a tiny remote from my back pocket and turned my 56" flat screen plasma TV onto my security channel.

Beep. "Area-,"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Someone is here." I interrupted while pressing the mute button. That voice was annoying, extremely annoying. Ugh, I shudder at the prim and proper use of the English language. I needed to find some way to change the voice or, maybe, the accent of the speaker. To a British accent?- no, maybe to a Scottish accent.

The beep from the coffee maker brought my wandering attention back. I pulled downed a blue coffee mug from the cabinet behind me. Carefully, I poured the hot liquid into the mug. I brought the mug closer to my lips, not yet taking a sip, and watched the television.

I let out a sigh. I couldn't see anything out of place on the security videos. Another security section warning went off, flaring a flashing red dot in the lower right hand corner of the television. I sent a frustrated look above and asked the superior beings, Can't anything go my way just once? What superior beings I was talking to was just as good a guess as any.

There was only person that was good enough to trip my alarms without being seen. I slide off the counter top. After turning off the television, I strolled back into my bedroom, coffee mug in hand. I curled up in bed waiting for my visitor.

I cautiously sipped my coffee. I heard the front door quietly creak open and then, just as quietly, click shut. After that, no sounds could be heard. I took another sip from my coffee, allowing the black warmth to spread throughout my body. My bedroom door open.

"Hi, Berto."

"Chaos." Berto greeted in a scratchy voice.

I glanced over at Berto casually taking in his appearance. Berto was a scary man and not just because of his scarring. He was around 5'10 feet tall and had an athletic physique. He was a mercenary for the government, but he was considered to be 'outside' help. He's also involved with several other paranormal groups. He has more contacts than a playboy has in his little black book. He could move without making a sound. He knew how to hide himself in the shadows, even if it was daytime.

Berto turned his head, his warm honey brown eyes scanning my body. His mouth quirked into a smile, or tried to. The entire left side of his body and face was covered in scars due to a fire. Berto was dressed in his combat black. Head to toe was covered in military grade uniform. With a gun strapped to his thigh, he completed the stereotypical character of a G. I. Joe.

Berto walked out of the bedroom. I let out an annoyed grunt and followed him. I finished my cup of coffee and watch as Berto made myself comfortable at my kitchen table. I sauntered over to the sink, turned on the water and began washing out the cup. I briefly towel dried the mug and then placed it on the drying rack.

Above the sink was a brown cabinet filled with different non-refrigerator breakfast food, such as: cereal, pop-tarts, granola bars, and oat meal. I opened the cabinet and grabbed a box of mini wheats. The cabinet to the left contained bowls, plates, and cups. Underneath the cabinet was a drawer that held the utensils.

The silence continued to stretch. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal, but instead of white milk, I used chocolate milk.

"That's just wrong," muttered Bero, breaking the silence.

"Don't knock it until you try it. So Berto, why did you decide to honor me with you presence? At 4 in the morning no less." I resituated myself on the counter.

Berto's eyes flashed with humor. "I thought there was no sleep for the wicked, Chaos."

I smacked my lips noisily together as I ate my cereal. "Mwah, wicked? Now Berto, I didn't know you had such a high opinion of me. I always thought you assumed me immature."

Berto smiled slightly, but ignored my remark. "I have some information that I believe you'll be interested in. I was doing a little recon the other day when I stumbled over this." This being a blue folder Berto pulled out from his black leather jacket.

I raised an eyebrow in question. I reached over and took the folder from him, but I didn't open it just yet. "What's in the folder?"

Berto shrugged his shoulder, "Not much I could understand. It contains phone calls and emails coming out from the Den."

Now it was my turn to shrug my shoulders. "And why would I care about the fact the shifters finally learned how to use a phone and send a few emails?" I slipped another spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

"That's what I thought at first when my contact mentioned it. I didn't become curios until I found out who those phone calls and emails were going to."

"Oh? And who are they contacting, animal control?"

Berto leaned forward, his eyes locking with mine. "The Agents."

My spoon froze halfway up to my mouth. Milk spilled over the spoon, splashing back into the bowl. "You're telling me that you have emails and phone calls from the Den going to the Agents?"

Berto just nodded his head.

I hurriedly pushed aside my breakfast and pulled the file towards me. I filed through the pages, absorbing the information. "Who's your contact? What were you doing with him in the first place? Where did he get this?" I fired question after question rapidly as my brain spun with different possibilities.

"It's all in the file." Berto stood up from his seat. "I can't stay, but I knew you would want that information sooner rather than later."

I nodded my head, not taking my eyes off of the papers in front of me. I barely noticed as Berto let himself out of the house. A small smile curled my lips upward. Finally, I had a lead on the traitor inside the Den. Now it was time to devise a plan and capture the bastard.

So, what did you think? Please comment and tell me your opinions!

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