The World War II weapon looked not unlike a child's toy in his massive paws.The large man in grey led Stan to a small outcropping of granite. "Let me ...ntroduce myself. I am Tribune William Whitefeather from the Office of Targeted Extractions, of the Confederacy's Directorate of Evacuation and Colonial Operations. And I've been asked to present you with an offer that I'm hoping you cannot refuse." Um, oh?" Stan's brain cells were still not fully functional. They wanted him? "My CAP score is good. ?"Jesus Christ you are a fuckingmess," Number thirty-four said, puttinghis now flacciddick and balls back into his jeans. Heleaned down andhqwked a huge gobof spit onto Jizzy's face. "You are afucking mess, andwehaven't evenstarted with you yet." He smiled, showingeven white teeth.Hespit again, thisgob hitting jizzy right on the lips. Thenhe moved away tohave a beer andjoin the rest of the guys at the party. Jizzy had littlerest. Number thirty-five stepped up. He was a balding guyof. More

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