“If there is anything but that, then please do tell me,” Grigori set the weapon down on the table. Good. There was still fight in the admin– the one who continued to make life hard for himself. “Unfortunately, I’ve yet to discover one myself.”

It was the last thing Grigori wanted. It was the last thing her father would want. Perhaps her mother, if he had to wager a reasonable guess (who wanted their child to be part-terrorist?) But each solution either wasn’t possible due to Howard or June themselves or would only work until Rocket discovered her secret.

Such was the hand they were dealt.

“If you recruit her exclusively for your smuggling, then she’ll avoid the front lines,” he said carefully. Meticulously thought out and with zero hesitation. “You can control where she goes. What she does. Much like you with me right now.”

How many jobs had Howard sent him on? A number that closely resembled the amount of jobs he had yet to enjoy performing. Smuggling was much bloodier than he anticipated. But it didn’t have to be.

“She is not interested in the glory or fortunes this job provides,” he whispered. “Once she’s settled her… situation. Then…”

The imagination could fill in the blanks. It made his skin crawl and all his Rocket senses light up in disgust. Yet another one spoke much louder. Gabriel had a way to be loud when he wanted to. The grunt scratched his left arm as the black strip hidden beneath his shirt ached.

“Regardless, it is your call,” he finally rose. There wasn’t going to be much training done today. This kind of training wasn’t the type Grigori needed more in any way. “You have until the problem blows up in our faces to think of a better solution. But remember, Mr. Fox.”

“We share fault in this scenario, but our shares are not equal.”

“Rest well, Mr. Fox.”

Grigori turned his back to the baffled admin and left. He could only hope Howard conjured a better answer from the newfound heart of his golem.

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howard slayte