Who: Alyssa and Karl What: Alyssa doesn't make the drop, Karl's looking for some answers. Where: Alyssa's current "employment", Texas When: September 30, late afternoon Warnings: TBD
Seventy-two was enough.
Should be enough times to pass the drop-off point without looking suspicious and enough times for Karl's mind to remind himself that his partner was more than capable of handling things if they didn't allow her to drop something off. Things like this happened all the time, this was the unpredictability that came with being undercover.
But for a New God who constructed half of the invasion of D-Day, waiting wasn't exactly a strong point. Neither was seventy-two times enough to calm him down when he could have leveled the entire joint that she was undercover in in a heartbeat.
(She'd probably kill him for that though, so there was no point in thinking extremes. At the moment.)
So, after throwing on something casual that blended him in with the locals, Karl found himself a twenty-minute drive later, at his partner's new place of employment. Although it made the New God do a double-look at the convenience store just a little ways away from it, because she didn't say anything about a gentleman's club.
Come to think of it, she probably couldn't say much of either on a candy wrapper anyways.
Giving the convenience store one last hopeful look, Karl pushed through the curtained doors and went inside the world of poles, one-dollar bills, stripper music, and everything he was pretty damn sure his partner was not associated with, normally.