"Alright mom, time to fit you to some weapons." I look over at Angela and whisper to her, "I still don't know how they convinced Scott to give this job to them." "I heard that!" She taps one of the desert eagles and recoils like it shocked her. "It's just a gun mom. It won't kill you. Actually nevermind, yes. It will kill you if you're not careful." "That makes me feel sooo much better." "Seriously mom, you're going to want something for self defense. The people that I, er, we have to fight against are kinda ruthless." "But does it have to be a gun?" "No mom. If you will notice the massive rack of knives behind you. I also have crossbows, axes, spears, and a hammer." My mother walks over to the knife rack and picks up a cleaver. "A cleaver? Why does that scare me?" Angela giggles. "Yea, I think this will work nicely." She puts the cleaver on her weapons rack. "So, is that all I need?" "No. You could benefit from some bigger stuff too. They come in handy when stealth isn't necessary." "I think I'll just hide behind you." "Ok, mom." I flip the walls to show the armor. "Now pick a suit. They range in weight from lightweight vests to full exosuits." She looks over the suits and stops at the model Angela chose. "Is this all you have for women?" "Heavens no. And no offense mom, but no one wants to see you in that." I push a wall forward that has a variety of plates on it. "Try these. They're plates that strap to your body, making them light and easy to move in." "Sounds good to me." She picks up the plates and sets them on her rack. 'I think I'm done here." I whisper under my breath, "Thank god." Then call my dad over, who is examining an attack helicopter in the corner. "DAD! I'm ready for you." I flip the walls back over as he walks over to us. "Alright, you need a light weapon, and then if you want heavier stuff I can accommodate." "Oh I've already got a gun." He holds up a set of keys with the Chevrolet logo on them. "The Suburban? No. No way. You're NOT taking the Suburban." "Why not? Every team needs a backup artillery." "Ok, you know what? Fine. I don't care anymore. But you still need a small weapon. We're not busting down the doors of every mission we do." I push the pistol rack forward. "Just pick something." He grabs a blunderbuss off the wall. "How about this?" "Sure." He puts it on the rack. "Now, can we please go back upstairs? Angela and I need to take care of our children." I leave the bunker with all three of them following me out. I close up the stairwell and the gun room, heading into James' room to check on him. He's awake and bouncing in his crib, so I pick him up and check him on the changing table. A little while later, I meet Angela in the kitchen, where she's feeding the twins. "Hey, do you mind watching James for a bit? I need some alone time." "Yea, sure honey, what's wrong?" "Nothing." She gives me a skeptical look. "Richard, I can see your tail. It's quite limp. Is something wrong? You know you can tell me." I look at her blankly. "It's your parents, isn't it." "Mhm." "I think its nice that they want to be involved." "It's not that, I just wish it wasn't this. It's too dangerous. And they're not the most careful people." "Well, I know you'll figure something out. You always do." "Thanks." I kiss her on the cheek before walking into the garage. I stroll over to the Mazda section and find my RX-7. I get in and drive it out of the garage, along a long drive, and finally pulling into a gt style race track. I stop on the track and pull out an IPod from the glove box. I plug it in and hit play. Try Everything by Skakira starts playing as I hit the accelerator and start hot lapping the track, talking to myself the entire time. "Why of all things did they have to get in on my job? It's just too dangerous. How did they even get Scott to give them ID's?" I look at the gnome that sits in my dashboard. "I'm not being over dramatic am I?" The gnome gives no answer. "Yea, I probab-WAIT!" I slam the brakes on the car, stopping abruptly. "They never proved they had ID's! They may not have been hired after all!" I race off the track and back into the house, running past Angela. "Where are you going?" But I had already turned the corner and stormed into the living room. "If you really got hired, then you should have ID's!" My parents both hold up official Interpol ID's and my father speaks up. "We have them right here. What's wrong, kid?" "Nothing." "No, it's not nothing. We're not stupid and we can clearly see that something is wrong. So what is it?" "I just don't want you two working with me. It's too dangerous of a job and I don't want to see you two hurt." "Well then. If that's all you're worried about, then stop worrying kid. Your mother and I have been through quite a few rough situations in our time, both with other people and with ourselves." "Your conception wasn't all rose petals and smooth jazz." "Whoa k, little too far mom." "Our point is, don't worry about us. We've led a full life. Now, we're ready to have some fun with it." "Just, promise me one thing, please? Don't go getting yourselves hurt unnecessarily. Let me handle the heavy lifting." "Gotcha." I go to leave the room before my father speaks up again. "Oh, one more thing." "Yes?" "We're moving in."