Sam Victorio // Max Guevara (notanumber) wrote in ourtrueselves, @ 2010-04-03 00:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | sam victorio |
Who: Sam Victorio
What: Reacting to bad news
When: Friday Afternoon
Where: Somewhere in Los Angeles
Sam was probably breaking every traffic law in existence as she sped down the freeway on her motorcycle, weaving around all of the slow moving vehicles in her way. Someone gave her the finger as she blazed by on the shoulder of an off ramp. She didn't care. She was in a hurry, she was pissed off, and truly didn't give a shit.
She'd gotten a call from the LAPD not an hour before. Her house had blown up. A tragic accident, they'd said, probably a gas leak. Right, an accident. She didn't even care. The house was a complete loss, everything destroyed, and she didn't even care. The other half of the duplex hadn't fared any better though. The blast was contained but the flames quickly spread from her side to the other. She'd been lucky, she wasn't home. Her neighbors weren't so lucky. Their kids were in intensive care with third degree burns. It was typical of the sheer self-centered arrogance of Camelot. Where did they get the fucking nerve? Who the hell had given them the right to destroy people's lives in the name of their cause?
She would have gone out hunting for whoever had done this herself right then and there if she hadn't gotten another call. Her house wasn't the only explosion. There were more, all over the place, houses, businesses, cover organizations. All of CORE was under attack. She had to get to HQ.
Abandoning her bike next to the building, she practically stormed into the Agency office. She didn't know if her fake ID would still work, or if she was on some sort of detain on sight list, or how observant the local offices even were at this point. She just knew she was using the MTN and if they wanted to stop her, she'd like to see them fucking try.