Admiral, please think this through. You aren’t acting rationally.

“Isn’t this what you always wanted from me, PAL? Violence and death, right? I can do that.” I slid into one of my stepfather’s bulletproof vests and released the safety on his pistol. There were no bullets inside, but nobody needed to know that.

I want you to think rationally as well.

“This is rational. I need money.”

Admiral.

“Overruled,” I hissed. “Maybe if you had done your job and protected my party member, I wouldn’t have to act like this. It’s like you said, I need to ‘integrate’ with you better. That’s what I’m going to do now.”

I failed to realize that your stepfather was working with FRN. If I had known, I would have warned you.

“Just like you didn’t realize that my dad was alive, or that my gaming partner was brainwashed? You sure are helpful. What else aren’t you telling me about? Is my mother working with FRN also? How about her friends?”

Admiral, this isn’t helpful, and to be fair I did try to warn you about that plebian and her brother.

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore.” I cast a false impression on myself, taking on the form of Beatrix, the terrorist leader I invented. Then, ignoring PAL’s pleas, I set my sights on the building in front of me.

The building was simple. There was only a single entrance, but there were plenty of windows that could act as secondary access points on each side. The area around it was forested and rural, making it unlikely that help would get there quickly. I didn’t even need to run one of PAL’s ridiculous simulations to know that I would make quick work of robbing this place.

“Mommy, do you think that daddy is going to like the lunch I made him.” A little girl skipped happily towards the door with her mother in tow.

“Of course he will.” Her mother reassured her.

“Screw your lunch,” I muttered under my breath, “soon you will all be snake food.”

If you are intent on doing this, at least let me send out some drones first.

“Fine,” I sighed, “make it quick.”

A few small flecks of blue crawled out from my pores and approached the building, crawling under the door with ease.

Your assessment is correct. This building is a soft target.

“Calculate the approximate time it will take for the police to respond.”

Approximately 7 minutes and 53 seconds if you commence the operation now.

“Perfect.” I hopped out of the car, carrying the gun firmly in my right hand. It was finally time to make some money, there was no point of playing the nice guy anymore, my enemies were on the move. I couldn’t just sit around and pretend that they weren’t gunning for me.

“Get on the ground!” I kicked the door of the bank open, firing one fake illusion of a shot into the air. “Nobody move, or I will shoot you.”

Panicked customers and employees dropped to the floor around me as I moved my way towards the teller window. “Get up and give me everything you have. If you try giving me any marked bills, I will kill you.” I pointed my pistol at the male teller.

“Please don’t shoot me,” the man begged as he frantically pulled out stacks of cash from his money drawer and the drawers around him. “I have a daughter, spare me, please.”

“Give me that sandwich,” I motioned my gun towards the ham and cheese sandwich that sat on the counter in front of him. “Sure, yes. Anything.”

He handed me my money and my sandwich, and then I carefully backed up towards the main door.

“Hey kid,” I waved at the little girl on my way out the door, “this sandwich is pretty good. Sorry, your dad didn’t get to try it.” I finished it in front of her tear-drenched face. “Remember this!” I pronounced, using my best impression of Beatrix’s voice, “I did this to save all of you from evil. Don’t forget my great sacrifice.”

From that point on, PAL and I marauded across the countryside. For days on end, we picked off soft targets, one after another with ease. As the police caught wind of our trail, I would change our appearance and the appearance of our getaway vehicle to fool them. All the meanwhile, the story of the crazed terrorist leader Beatrix spread like wildfire through the media.

“Breaking news from Washington,” the radio blared, “the Department of Justice has officially labeled the Extraterrestrial Truthers Guild and their leader Beatrix as a domestic terrorist group. Residents in Wisconsin, Minnesota and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are urged to stay indoors while authorities track the movements of this increasingly dangerous organization. Joining us now is our Chief Counterterrorism Correspondent, Melinda Pope. Melinda, what do we know about this group?”

“Well, Stephanie,” a stuffy official responded, “the truth is that we know very little about Beatrix, or the ETG. They first came on the scene last week with an attack on a police station in village of Southwest Milwaukee, and their actions have only become more erratic since then. In what can only be described as a miracle though, nobody has lost their life from the actions of this mysterious group, despite the carnage they have wrought.”

“What do we know about their connection with Christopher Carthage?”

“Right now, Christopher appears to be a victim in all of this. The FBI assures me that they are doing everything they can to bring him home safely to his family, but at this time there are no clear leads as to where he may be or where the ETG may be hiding.”

“Of course, there are no clear leads,” I spat out the window, “I’m not so foolish as to leave breadcrumbs for those idiots to follow.”

Admiral, you have already leveled up two times. Is there a reason that you have not accepted my prompts?

“I’m saving them for after we get out of this country. Did you charter the plane?”

I did.

“And what of the passports?”

Fully secured, from the best counterfeiter that my query was able to find.

“Excellent, and what about my brother? Is he safe?”

It would appear that he is being kept secure at the Air Force Academy.

“Good. I don’t want him wrapped up in all of this.”