Chester and the 24-hour Lottery

It almost felt too easy obtaining Ozark officer uniforms and bypassing two security checkpoints before reaching Wayfarer City. Since he and Lacy were the smallest in the group they hunkered down underneath a black tarp concealing themselves, and the small arsenal they’d scrounged together. Van would appear as a rounded-up dissident, wearing regular clothing. Henry and Deven sat in the front, with required helmets and altered visor screens although it could come into suspicion why they wore full gear inside the vehicle.

Chester groaned as once again Racket started up her argument why Saldivar wasn’t communicating. Her hypothesis was endless and he came to believe either she was in love with the man or had a deep-seated father complex. Whatever it was, it became increasingly annoying, but no one stopped her because it focused their hyper anxiety elsewhere.

Lacy threw her leg over his, giggling and he shoved it off, “What’s so funny?”

“She sounds worshipful of Saldivar,” she whispered into his ear, causing goose-bumps to rise along his skin.

He chuckled softly in agreement, then groaned loudly, “How much further? It’s getting cramped back here.”

“Aw, don’t you like being spooned by a pretty girl?” Henry snickered from the driver’s seat, “I see the city checkpoint is two miles off.”

“My cuddle buddy,” Lacy giggled again, rubbing her front against his ass, making him flush, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Vanyla you have a boner.”

He opened his mouth to protest when her hand sneaked around and went for his crotch. He slapped it away, not believing she was messing with him. Were all the Construct Babes bizarrely inappropriate during times of trouble?

“Saldivar must have been captured,” Racket droned on, “Maybe he’s on his way, just like we are. He knows it’s important to stop Spell. Garth won’t give up either.”

“Well, they’re not here and we are!” Van finally snapped, “Focus, Racket! I’m relieved to know Saldivar didn’t double-cross us, but we have to get past this last checkpoint.”

“Should we ditch the car?” Deven asked.

“How will we transport the weapons?” Van demanded in exasperation, “We need to keep calm and I’ll play the angry victim again so they won’t check the truck, but just in case, Lacy and Chet, be ready to exit out the back.”

“All set,” Lacy replied, squirming against Chester’s back in a way that would have once aroused him but now did nothing because the only one he wanted rubbing along his body was the girl seated bravely on the other side of the seat.

“I see the checkpoint, shit, they’re lit up like daybreak,” Henry growled, “You two keep covered up and still as possible. We can do this, right?” The trepidation is his voice caused them to quiet.

“Fuck them,” Deven spoke first, “They made their decision.”

“Exactly,” Henry drawled, regaining his confidence, “One wrong move and we’ll blow them apart.”

“Last resort!” Van reminded him sharply, “We can’t attract attention. You got this, draw on your training.”

Chester heard Lacy inhale several deep breaths before she laid motionless behind him, facing the hatch in case they needed to make a quick escape. He made sure there was no part of their bodies showing before settling down, gun out, ready to defend himself and the others if it came down to it. He was terrified but knew he couldn’t let it take hold. He had to keep a level head and not allow his attention to waver for one second.

“Where are you coming from?” A mans’ gruff voice asked when Henry stopped the SUV.

“Neighborhood Crane,” Henry snapped just as aggressively as Van started cursing at them, “Caught this mouthy bitch and was told to bring her to Allard.”

Chester shallowly panted as a beam of light hit the backseat area. Lacy froze, and he touched her arm to reassure her.

“Fuck you asshole,” Van sneered, “What are you looking at horse-face fucker?”

“Damn, she is mouthy,” the man chuckled, “They informed me of an incoming patrol. Head over to intake by the food district and wait for further orders.”

“Thanks,” Henry stepped on the gas and then they were inside the city.

“Shit, that was easy,” Deven shakily said what they were all thinking, “Why?”

“They haven’t recognized me yet,” Van shrugged, “Come up here Chet.”

Chester didn’t hesitate to throw off the tarp and crawling awkwardly over the seat, landed between Racket and Van. Lacy grumbled something under her breath when he sat forward to see what laid before them on the road.

Damages from riots left the city in shambles. The once clean, pristine streets were littered, making it hard to navigate and buildings looked as if firebombs went off, some of them down to their bare structure. Oh, yeah — there had been firebombs. Lights no longer illuminated the roads which helped.

The darker the better.

“Get rid of curfew,” Chester muttered, his mind going back to before he’d won the lottery and thought everything was as simple as getting an UZI and maybe sleeping with a girl after destroying Petez Pizza Palace.

How time flew when in the middle of a revolution.

“What?” Van nudged his side.

He shook his head, “Nothing. Take the next left. There’s an alley we can back into and walk on foot the two blocks to the armory. It’ll be better if they don’t hear or see us coming.”

“I estimate we have approximately twenty minutes before they realize we aren’t reporting with a prisoner,” Henry said, following his directions, “I think Deven and Lacy should stay put in case we require a quick getaway.”

“When we raid the depot, they’ll recognize who we are,” Van responded, “but I agree. We will have to be fast and quiet. Grab the bags Racket.”

“Chester too,” Racket took the flat duffle bags from Lacy, “He’s likely to hurt himself.”

“Bullshit,” he grunted, zipping up his coat and taking a bag, slinging it across his chest, “I’ve been inside and I know where the best weapons are. Joey kept the ammo separate from the firearms. One of us needs to go behind the security desk into storage and grab as much as possible.”

“Let’s get this shit over with!” Henry loud-whispered, throwing the vehicle into park before rushing into the darkness of the alley.

Racket, Van, and Chester bolted after the man, carefully approaching every corner and shadow as threats. When they came to the warehouse situated on a large empty lot, they spotted three armored trucks but no persons.

“I’ll go left,” Henry brought up his silenced Glock, nodding at Racket for confirmation they would meet in front after a perimeter search.

Van pushed Chester down to the cold ground then took out infrared binoculars for a closer look at the vehicles and area. He activated his Vid Frames flicking through commands until two screens allowed him to watch them in action.

Racket encountered a female officer first, taking the armed woman down in ten seconds flat. Chester wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead but either way, officers were in place, which meant the clock was ticking double time.

“We need to move,” he whispered, “Racket and Henry can meet us at the doors. Blow the keypad and I’ll watch the door while you gather the weapons.”

“What do you see?” Van asked, crouching low, ready to run.

“Fucking Ozark ass-hats,” he sighed then jumped up and made a mad dash for the front of the building just as Henry rounded it.

“Pop it,” Van ordered.

Henry took aim and blasted the keypad allowing the heavy door to open. They hurried inside with Racket still hunting officers. Chester half-closed the entrance as Henry and Van ran off, the Vid Frames shining light for their thievery. He grunted out a breath to steady his nerves and hands. He didn’t want to shoot Racket by mistake even though he saw in the left corner of his glasses she was stalking an officer who heard the seals being broken.

“The storage door’s locked,” Henry reported before shooting the lock off, “Well, they know we’re here now. Move your fat ass Racket.”

Racket grabbed the officer from the behind, wrapping her hands around his throat, and Chester flinched when she twisted until his neck broke, “Little busy asshole.”

Two more officers came towards the front, weapons drawn and without warning shot at her. She fell to the right onto her knees, quickly aimed and blew the officer’s faces off with one bullet each. Chester gagged, closing his eyes trying to regain control of his stomach after witnessing such gory violence.

“Brutal,” he groaned, “Are you guys done yet?”

“Almost. Hey, I found a grenade belt!” Henry spoke like a kid in a candy store which irritated the hell out of him, “There’s too much. Bring your bags Racket!”

She slipped inside and smirked at his pale appearance, “I’m here. Watch our backs, Chet.”

He nodded and peered into the darkness, hoping she had taken out all the officers because he wasn’t fast or accurate like her. He listened to crashes and glass shattering, wondering if they were purposely drawing attention or having fun breaking shit.

“Let’s go,” Van flew past him a few minutes later followed by the other two.

He realized his bag was still empty as they stealthily raced back to the SUV where Deven and Lacy waited. He could tell Deven watched the same thing he had when the man stared at Racket with wide-eyed scrutiny. She didn’t look the least troubled she’d killed four people but then again it wasn’t a novel experience for the hardened woman.

“We need to make it to Night Street,” Van reminded Henry who anxiously looked for any patrol units although with the deserted streets it was only a matter of time before someone spotted them.

Night Street had a bridge the rail-cars passed over and that was where they planned to hide out until daybreak. It was only a few blocks from the armory and a straight shot before the riots. The damage was so severe to the road it took them longer than they thought to reach the underside of the trestle but they made it.

“Wow,” Lacy laughed after Henry shut the vehicle off, “Did we really pull that off without dying?”

“Trying to jinx the operation?” Deven scolded playfully.

Chester smiled and opened the door for fresh air, “Sometimes I wonder if everything that’s taken place was supposed to transpire. We missed blowing Spell to hell at Fort Ozark but so much good has happened.”

“Really?” Van cocked her head uncertain.

“Yeah, I mean, people are fighting back and realizing the old ways kept everyone divided. I think they’ll be fine in Crane as long as we can get inside Neighborhood Allard and kill the evil bastard. The soldiers will disperse when he’s dead right? What would be their purpose?”

“Not all of them have pure hearts,” Van touched his chest and sweetly kissed his lips, “but let’s hope that’s what happens. Now we lock and load and see what the morning brings.”

Henry held up a bottle of bourbon, “Probably a hangover. Here, take a sip, Chester. Bet you never tasted such strong booze before.”

Chester gazed at the brown liquid tinting the glass. He had never seen alcohol in a bottle before and wondered how long Joey had hidden it just for Henry to come across it. “I don’t drink and you need to keep your shit together.”

“He tried to ban it during the lottery, remember?” Racket snorted, taking the bottle forcefully from Henry who pouted, “I understand since his mom is a raging alcoholic bitch. Or was before Spell dosed her. No drinking until the mission’s finished.”

He shrugged in agreement at the poke about his mother then went to look through the bags to make sure there were not any bombs that might explode if jostled. Lacy helped and soon they had everything laid out for inspection. The Construct Babes were so efficient and knowledgeable Chester was in awe of their work.

“At dawn, we’ll drive the back roads into Allard where hopefully they won’t be waiting,” Henry placed a Vitro-Stand in front of the SUV and activated a 3D hologram of Neighborhood Allard, “In case they are we have explosives. I wish we’d had time to snag one of the bulletproof trucks at the armory but you can rig something with what we have right Lacy?”

The red-head grinned, winking as she purred, “Bet your sweet ass I’ll make shit go boom. Should we tell Crane we’re okay?”

“I already sent off a message,” Racket quickly answered.

He frowned, “We shouldn’t be communicating unless it’s an emergency. The soldier back at the Brenn farm made it clear Spell’s tapping devices.”

“I coded it,” she haughtily snapped, “Don’t worry.”

But Chester did worry because he didn’t fully trust Crane and worried Racket was still on her personal journey of revenge and could make things messier than necessary. He had to have faith the woman would keep it together long enough for them to thwart Spell’s plan and then he could sit down and figure out how to stop her from destroying The Institute and possibly the state in the process.