After watching Feral's video you and Bones need someone to get you out of this hot water.

"Well, shit." you say. "That is... uh... seems like we're kind of fucked, huh Bones? The bad kind of fucked, not the good kind you can have an orgasm from like you and Prince Charming earlier."

"Thanks for reminding me about that, Bunny." the voluptuous grey-skinned woman sitting beside you mutters. "But you're right. These tapes are pretty much nuclear-grade **** material, and it looks like Alan was right as usual about the Company having their grubby fingerprints all over the League's dirty secrets. If the heroes knew what those assholes were planning, they'd tear the whole house of cards down in a heartbeat, but..."

"...but they're not gonna believe the girls who just stormed their headquarters, hacked their security system, stole their secret baby-making sex tapes, and put bullets into several of their friends." you finish for her. Even though they aren't part of your head, your white rabbit ears droop appropriately as you lean your head forward. "Well, I guess we better hop out of here on the double. I mean, if there's a tracking device in that thing then we're probably already too late and don't have a lot of options left besides going out in a blaze of glory, but hey, maybe they haven't figured out what exactly we stole yet?"

"I'm not going to take that risk." Bones says, cradling her broken arm. "Hell, I WISH it was the villains after us. Even the nastiest ones among them would probably just kill us and take the tapes back. But those heroic capes will do everything they can to bring us in alive, which means our future is going to be a dark, windowless cell in an undisclosed location, with electrodes hooked up to our eyelids and cunts."

You feel sweat beading under your sexy cleavage-baring camouflage shrug. "Okay, Bones, I'm trying reeeeeally hard to stay cool about this, please work with me. Help me not break down in fear, crying for my daddy, here, won't you?"

To your surprise, Bones reaches over and puts a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. "Come on, I'm just bantering here, Bunny. Trust me, I've been in worse situations than this." For the first time since you've met the woman, her jet-black lips curl into a soft smile. "We just have to be smart about it. If we take off running at full tilt right now, that'll just reveal we know we're being traced. If they're on us, then they will hang back for a while and see where we go, so they can follow us to whoever we're working with." She leans back on the bed and crosses her legs. "Mmm... what we need is someone good with technology. Preferably more than just 'good', more like 'super'. As a matter of fact, Bunny, you weren't the only girl that Jokester was interested in bringing in for this mission. He probably SHOULD have pulled in more help, but he always liked to get things done with as few moving parts as possible."

The voluptuous luck-manipulating commando slowly shifts herself over to the phone on the nightstand. "I think I trust you a bit more now than I did before, Bunny. If you were working against me, you'd probably be smashing that video tape and putting a bullet in me right now. At first I was resistant to Alan's idea. I was saying, c'mon, she," pointing a finger towards you, "is just a dumb kid."

"H-hey! I'm not a kid!" you pout, wrinkling your nose, your mortal fear from a moment ago momentarily swept aside by youthful indignation. "I'm old enough to drink, damn it! Barely, but even so!"

With a sigh, Bones waves her uninjured hand at you, rolling her eyes. "The point is, there was hardly any time between you being in a well-documented supersoldier program run by the Pentagon, and you showing up here. One of the only reasons Alan and I trusted you enough to invite you is that the Pentagon and the Company don't get along well, at all. Their mind-control technique doesn't have superpowers backing it up, it relies on ****, **** and subliminal video messages. Takes them at least 6 months, more if the target has a strong will. So... I'm not sure you're aware, but there were actually two video auditions from the graduates of that super-soldier program that Alan's fixer sent to us, on account of another one like you, just as young and fresh out of the program, getting put on indefinite leave after her first field trial..."

Presumably, Bones can see you cringing and gritting your teeth. She continues speaking. "...ah, you already know her, huh? Didn't get along together? Well, tough. This is a matter of life and ****, Bunny. And since we're on a tight time schedule... it's probably better if you make the call. Hey, if you don't like this chick, take some comfort in the fact that you'll be pulling her into a mission that's very likely to get her killed, black-bagged or worse."

"'Worse'?" your voice comes out as a squeaky whinging sound. "There's a 'worse' than those? Oh, I can't believe I volunteered for this... I bet Jokester got you the same way, huh? Turns on the rugged, hunky charm, acts like he knows what he's doing, and then before you know it you're knee deep in conspiracy shit and going on a suicide mission."

You swallow. Damn it - it's been hours and you can STILL taste the semen of that schlub you impulsively offered oral sex to in exchange for directions to your meeting place in the back of your throat. "Can we at least order a pizza or something?" In response to Bones' predictably unamused glare, you throw up your hands defensively. "What?! You said we were trying to pretend that we don't know we're being tracked, right? And it'll give me the chance to listen for the sound of a bug on the line activating with my super hearing."

Of course, you don't actually know how to identify the sound of a phone bug recording, if indeed there is one. You just really want some pizza. You've ordered about twenty of them in the few weeks since you got back from the Middle East, having spent months eating horrible army rations, and start thinking about it every time you get stressed.