Covered Correspondence

Chapter 30 Squeegee of Death

Yay I updated! Aren't you so proud of me?(-Steve) Your Faithful Writers- Steve~Lewis-

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The longer I stayed in the air, the more I understood the controls and could steer almost perfectly. I felt like I was born to do this.

I stared at the GPS that had been guiding me to where we were supposed to go. I was thankful for it, because without it I would have probably screwed up this mission more than it was already.

"M-Mark? Are you-" I heard Fynn's voice from the back after I had been flying (driving, steering? I don't know what you want to call it) for a while. It startled me because I was used to just the roar of the helicopter and not human voices. He sounded flabbergasted. "H-how did you...WE'RE SAVED!" He jumped up from his seat and sat down next to me.

"Look!" He pointed to a large building with a helipad on top. "Land there and then we...we...uh..." Fynn's eye's glazed over and his forehead began to twitch.

"Do you mind...if....I pass out....URK-" Fynn's whole body seized up on that last word and I was glad I was immune to the gas...or whatever it was that had made the rest of the crew pass out.

I slowly lowered the helicopter on the helipad.That was ready and clear for us. I have to admit though, landing was way tougher than when I played Helicopter Madness 12 with Phil.

"Sorry! Ah man..." I yelled when I scraped the paint of the side of the helicopter and broke off something (I wasn't quite sure what it was but it looked important.). I don't know who I was apologizing to because no one was awake, but I felt bad for damaging such a wicked helicopter.

I stepped out of the helicopter, unsure of what I was supposed to do. I was expecting at least somebody to be here waiting for us when we got here, when I saw a group of men dressed in all black and armed with guns, walk out of a door and into another.

"Hey!" I called after them, but they were already in the next door before I yelled.

The more I thought about them the more they seemed familiar, until it clicked (Or the penny dropped. Whatever.). Those were the men.

The men.

In case you have no clue what men I'm talking about, let me remind you:

Men dressed in all black shooting at Piper from the catwalk.

That was pretty blunt...but let's just say I was really freaked out. I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating, but just in case I decided to attempt to wake up my team.

"Fynn! Chase! PIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPEERRR!!!!!" I ran, screaming and yelling back to the helicopter when I suddenly remembered that they didn't know anything about the men in black that I had saw, and that if I mentioned it again, they would probably laugh at me, so I hopped back in the helicopter and hoped that if anyone came out, maybe they wouldn't notice the hug mission helicopter that was occupying their landing pad.

I heard the door into the building open and quickly ducked down. My heart beat fast and there was a long silence in which I started writing my will on a napkin I found on the floor and imagining what would be said and my funeral.

Fynn would probably say: "Mark was okay at driving helicopters, but terrible at jumping off high platforms...did you guys see when he messed up his knee that one time taking the A.C.T? Piper, role the clip..."

Piper would probably say something like: "Mark...he was...something else...I'm not sure what he was or if he even knew. All I know is that he gave his life for us and I owe him my life!" and there it got cheesy. I pictured Piper dramatically crying at the stand. Chase would pat her back and then say...I quickly erased that thought from my head and wrote down on the napkin to not let Chase come to my funeral.

I sat there for a few minutes and then almost DIED when I heard an irritating squeaking sound on the window. I looked up (hitting my head in the process on the controls). I didn't even really see what was going on, but just started yelling: "You'll never take me alive!!! I'm a secret agent!!!! Die villains DIE!!!" The old man on the other side of the window jumped back and then squirted something on the side of the window. He squinted and rubbed it with a squeegee. Then he took a step back and rubbed harder creating that irritating squeaking noise.

"Never!!!! Never!!!" I shouted while pounding on the glass.

The man glanced at me, scrubbed and squinted one more time and then disappeared through the door.

"Yeah, you better run!!" I yelled. I my head began to feel light and my vision became slightly blurry, but I ignored it.

Glancing back at my unconscious friends, I said: "I saved us guys, don't worry. Now, I gotta get you guys some help." When I looked back out the window the old man was back scrubbing it AGAIN! This time he had brought his buddies!!! There had to be ten of dressed in...light green scrubs? How dare they pretend to be calm nurses and doctors!?!?! I struggled as they pried the door open and pulled me out.

"This one is delusional and may need some help in a mental constitution," narrated one of the thugs, pulling me out, kicking and screaming.

"And he needs a good wash! Don't let them shower him until I have gotten to squeegee him down!!!" said the old man. Then I was dragged along with the others into the building.