Breed Book 4, Part 18

Note: In book 3, the Bureau of Breed Affairs gets split into two agencies, with the outreach and support wing maintaining the traditional name, and a new, ICE-like enforcement division called ABC rising.


“Okay, so the plan,” Rox started, wincing, “such as it is, is to storm a U.S. Military base, one that is off-the-books in most regards, including how many personnel are there and what kinds of weapons they have stockpiled.”

“I might have some suggestions,” Laren said from the doorway.

“How did you-” Ben stopped, as she pulled a small device out of a flowerpot on a central table.

“I bug every room you stay in, because you don’t play well with others and you don’t share. Case in point, I have contacts, in the military, the CIA, and the NSA, all of which provided, even on a tight schedule, invaluable information.”

“And incalculable exposure.” Sonya said. “Even if you trust them today, what happens tomorrow after there’s been a pretty brazen attack on a base right after you asked for classified intel?”

“They have every reason to lie to cover their own asses, far more than to save mine. And I’m not friendly with the kind of people who like the idea of operating quasi black sites like Gitmo. More pressing, I’ve got a better reason to go than just one or two of your friends. Remember last year, when CBP disappeared all those Breed from their detention camps?“

“They took them to Disneyland?” Ben asked.

“I was going to say camping,” Rui said, “but his is better.”

“God,” Cris gasped, “they’re all in Gitmo.”

“Sure, most of them aren’t citizens, but a significant portion are, swept up by ICE and ABC racists and deported for not being able to ‘sufficiently’ prove their citizenship. Them we can drop at the school, the rest, might be better off in a country not currently overseen by a racist, oafish buffoon so preoccupied with being beaten by a black man in virtually every possible regard he can’t be hassled to actually do his fucking job- I mean the actual job, not making up mean nicknames or fomenting white and human supremacist insurrection on Twitter, or whatever the fuck ‘executive time’ means.”

“I kind of want to vote for her,” Anita said.

“Tough shit; I won’t be thirty five by January.”

“I didn’t specify ‘for President.’ I think you’d also make a very fetching dog catcher.”

“Ladies,” Rox said, glaring, “don’t make me separate you.”

“It’s fine,” Laren said. “Our rivalry is now mostly trading petty insults.”

“That and I spike literally everything she eats with laxatives. Some of the things she doesn’t eat, too, like toothpaste, her shampoo; I’m still working out the kinks of getting it into her deodorant.”

“I have no earthly idea if she’s kidding,” Sonya said.

“Haven’t had a problem yet,” Laren said. “But we’ve got more important things. Like freeing a bunch of refugees and citizens unlawfully kidnapped by our government.”

“I’m hoping that comes with some kind of insight, or at least an upgrade to our plan.”

“Yes. I’ve got a ship. It’s our best chance of slipping in, and I know the best path to get past their sensors. And how to get them looking the other way when we arrive.”

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