”“Go.”When Roger whimpered, or groaned in agony, Trina shushed him, loosening her grip his arm. They crept across the compound, Trina taking in everything. Each side of the mansion had several shacks, save for the garage on the right side. She figured there must be a purpose to each one. She’d find out soon enough.Roger guided her to the first building, dim light shining through the glass windows of the shack. “He’s in here?” Trina asked.“Yes, but,”“Remember what I said?” Trina cut him off. “If this is a trap, you die first.”“It’s not, but there may be someone working in here. People sometimes work all night,” Roger explained.“Knock,” Trina ordered, crouching behind Roger, removing the knife from his holster, while still pushing his arm up behind his back.Someone answered the door, removing a gas mask. “Roger? What you want?”Before the man had a chance the answer, Trina sprung upward from behind Roger, taking the man by surprise and shoving Roger’s knife into his throat,. You know, regular big city stuff. Other than that, it's quiet. You saw it out there. Nobody on the street. Pretty peaceable. A few teenagers playing that loud boom boom music as they drive by. That's about it. Of course, you have to park your car about three blocks away, but then you have to do that just about everywhere." I know." Where do you live?"Laura told her, and also mentioned that she was thinking of moving. She made up a few plausible reasons why, not alluding to her real reasons."You sure look uncomfortable in that suit," Sara said, having made fresh coffee and opened her pristine bottle of Remy Martin. "And that scarf looks expensive. You better take it off. Wouldn't want to spill brandy on it."Laura agreed and removed it, folding it carefully and placing it on a little mail table near the door so she wouldn't forget it. They talked for another hour or more, warmed and relaxed by the cognac and the coffee. Sara sat in a loveseat across from the sofa where Laura sat. She.
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