Curses, Foiled Again!
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From the text:
Constance Caraway and Fanny Renwick have been outside the Emergency Room of Saint Anthony Hospital patiently waiting for word about their wounded friend. In a rare public show of affection, they hold hands with no appreciable separation between them. During the scary times they lean on one another and it has been that way for most of the past 20 years. They are sampling that alone feeling now, now that they must make their own way in an unfamiliar metropolis.
Eddie has been in surgery for a five full hours and during that time, not one minute has Edie Dombroski been seated. She has fitfully paced the “Family Area–Waiting Room” keenly aware of how serious her husbands’ injuries were, having witnessed the urgency exhibited by ambulance medics.
The doors to the operating room have not been opened a single time, neither a good or bad sign considering that access to blood banks and personnel come from within. Five hours become six.
“What are we going to do Connie? We are done with what we were hired to do, Martin is busy with Willard and all that science stuff and now Eddie is out of commission.”
Constance cradles her head, kissing her like a she were a frightened child.
“Let’s see——we have a car, but don’t know where we’re going, we have a job, but it appears we are dealing with the devil,” a short list of diminishing prospects. “Do you think we should head back home Fanny?”
“We have to take care of the Dombroski’s,” a must.
“We have to make sure that Libby is stable and safe,” not there yet.
“We will look like we’re chickening out if we leave now,” Fanny hits a nerve.
“Chicken, when was the last time we ran from a fight?”
“How about that alley behind Doc’s Drugs when we were cornered by that Doberman Pincher………?”
“Other than that damned dog, Fanny!”
“Then we should stick it out for a while, to see how things fall in place and hopefully not fall to pieces.”
“Chin up there dear Fanny, we will see this thing through.”
Directly on the heels of those positive thoughts, Edie Dombroski emerges from her private isolation, “Eddie made it through surgery and he is going to live!”
A group hug breaks out, unabashed joy replaces doubting despair. For three women who did not know each other when the sun rose in the east are now bonding, just as it sets beyond the promising western horizon.
Back at Via Catone, Cephus/Spencer/Rogue/Daniels reports back to an already frustrated Pentateuch. Strange and mysterious are the ways of this disreputable despot and how he knew of Canisso/Wolfgram’s unfortunate encounter with nature’s wrath is unsettling.
“A random bolt of lightning please, humans would blame “Mother Nature” for something like that!” This incident only adds to the deep-seated jealousy harbored against the Divine One and his powers. “Alas, poor Canisso.”
“There is no trace of his body.”
“I doubt that he was taken into the heavenlies,” There are a number of things that Pentateuch takes for granted:
=There is a Heaven
=There is a hell
=He will never be #1
“You are going to tell me that, that old woman is still alive,” Period. “You have failed to satisfy your terms of conscription,” True. “I need to replace Canisso,” Fact.
Inadvertent successor or no, Cephus has reached his objective without having to whack-a-nun. He will be able to witness Agnostica’s most dire activities and have a hand in FOREVER MASTADON’s day-to-day.
If all goes according to the CIA’s plan, both will crumble from the top down.
Curses, Foiled Again!