Lawyers, Guns and Money [GAME FULL]

[Sabiplz]

Is role pms tonight? @G-Man

[G-Man]

Is role pms tonight? @G-Man

Sorry, tonight. We’ll get it all back on schedule tonight.

[Kate]

Is role pms tonight? @G-Man

Sorry, tonight. We’ll get it all back on schedule tonight.

Yay!

[G-Man]

FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS

Robert’s eyes darted back and forth between the clock on the wall and the back alleyway outside the window. As soon as 30 minutes passed, he dialed the phone again. This time, it only rang once before being picked up.

“Where are you, son?” his father’s voice said on the other side of the call. “Give me the name of the town or city, as well as the country. Nothing more precise than that.”

“I saw a sign that said Puerto Cortes,” he replied. “I don’t know the country.”

“How the hell do you not know what country you are in?”

“Because I jumped into a boat to get away from the Russians that were chasing me.”

“Where in God’s name were you that you would be running away from Russians?”

“It’s a long story, dad,” Robbie sighed.

“Save it for a minute,” the Congressman interjected. “We need to figure out where you are. Puerto Cortes. It’s not a familiar name. Did you see any flags or can you see any now?”

“Yeah, two long blue stripes with a white stripe in between. I think some stars in the middle.”

“Sounds like Honduras. Marcie, hand me that atlas. Alright son, start from the beginning.”

“I went home with a waitress, the way I always do, right? We get to drinking and having fun and she says she wants to go to a casino. So I’m gambling in Havana and-”

“Havana, Cuba?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, Robbie! Why the hell were you in Cuba?”

“I’m on Spring Break.”

“Have you forgotten that the United States has a long-standing embargo against Cuba? You’re the son of a Congressman for God’s sake!”

“Well President Carter let the travel embargo expire last year. You said it yourself. Besides, all the Senate kids are doing it.”

“Robbie, if all the Senate kids jumped off the edge of the Grand Canyon, would you do it too?”

“No sir.”

“Then why the hell are you making a target of yourself by going to a hostile nation that has cozy relations with the Soviet goddamn Union?!”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, dad.”

“Well, you know what seems like a good idea at this time, son? Hanging up this damn phone and leaving your irresponsible ass to rot in a third-world country. But I can’t do that, now can I? And you know why?”

“Because I’m your son and you love me.”

“Because it’s a fucking election year and this is the exact kind of bullshit that could cost me my seat.” Robbie’s father let out a deep sigh. “Now then, you’re gambling. Where do the Russians fit into all this?”

“Right. I was gambling in Havana and I took a little risk. I had these two Russian soldiers against the ropes. I mean I was just soaking them. Well one of them got a little too drunk and took a swing at me. I knocked him on his ass, cashed in my chips, and we ran.”

“So why did you jump on a boat heading out of Cuba?”

“Well, we get back to the hotel, and about half an hour later there’s a knock on the door. It’s the Russians from the casino, and this girl just lets them into the room!”

“She was on their side?”

“How was I to know she was with the Russians too?”

“What was her name?”

“Valentina.”

“God dammit, Robbie.”

“It sounded Latin American to me!”

“Alright, here you are- Puerto Cortes, Honduras. Marcie- take this and give it to Senator-” the congressman’s voiced muffled as he leaned away from the receiver. “So how did you get out of that jam? A room full of Reds?”

“I’m pretty good in a fight when I need to be, dad. I knocked the one guy out cold in the room and sent the other one over the balcony outside the room. He looked pretty messed up laying on the ground the way he was, but he was still alive, I swear! By the time I get to the street level, the cops are showing up, so I took off down an alley and just kept running until I reached the docks. I snuck onto a ship that was taking off with a load of cargo, so I knew it was at least leaving town.”

“So let me get this straight,” his father groaned. “You were in a foreign country that’s unfriendly to your own and you proceeded to beat up other foreign nationals from an even less friendly nation, and to top it all off, you ran away from the local police?”

“Well that’s oversimplifying it a little, don’t you think?”

“Son, you are a walking international incident. The Cubans and the Soviets are going to be looking for you. The good news is that we’ve got a head start on tracking you down.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“Honduras is pretty cozy with the Soviet Union right now too. Brezhnev is pumping a lot of investment resources into third-world countries, and Honduras is one of them. It won’t take long for them to figure out that the American they’re looking for stumbled into the friend’s backyard.”

“So what do I do?”

“Get the hell out of wherever you’re calling from and never go back. Stay in Puerto Cortes and lie low. I’ve got connections in the Senate who know people in the CIA. They pull extraction missions more often than Uncle Sam wants John Q. Public to know about. They’ll be on the ground and looking for you in a matter of days. Even with lying low, they’ll find you.”

“How will I know it’s them and not the Russians?”

“I’ll give them our code phrase- lawyers, guns and money. That’s how they operate too, actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out. Now get the hell out of there before any unfriendlies catch on to you.”

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