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*bump*

Laura finally got tired of drinking. The whole business with Tony being gone was killing her. She missed him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that even if he did come back, she would loose him. She walked out the building and decided to walk to the park. "Maybe I should go on vacation..." She told herself. "Maybe I should just search for him myself."

Immediately, Bubba was notified of where Laura was. The vehicle he drove was nothing special, so there would be no indication of the killer's intent as he drove by. Although not at her location just yet, it would only take a few minutes. Then, he would run her over. Even someone capable of healing wouldn't be instantly able to recover from that--when this happened, Bubba would step out of the car and finish her with a Desert Eagle. Three shots to the head, and three shots to the heart. To finalize it, he would crush her skull--make it explode--by driving over it before he left. Then, an entertaining but inconsequential escape from the responding police officers would ensue. Overall, today would be nothing particularly special in and of itself.

Instead of giving back a usual retort, Jasmine instead reached up to massage the bridge of her nose, sighing. She took a breath, and said, "This isn't time for that. I needed to turn to somebody, Vincent, and--as much as I hate to say it--you're the best I know. This is bigger than our petty beef. I can get you out of that bed and moving again, for starters. So... are you listening?"

Bubba drove as close to Laura as he could before the road ended. This, sadly, was not sufficient enough to run her over with the car--she would see him coming, through the grass, long before he reached her. Bubba contemplated on his options thus far.

He could wait. It would be slow but assured, and boring. Also, it was the cautious path--and Bubba was not the cautious type. He was confident and unstoppable, not to mention that he was twice this girl's size at least.

Bubba packed a Desert Eagle, among other things. With option two, he could approach her. Not directly--she wouldn't give him a second thought, like any other person passing through the park. Once he had wandered close enough--about twenty-five feet or so, at the farthest--he could open fire. She would not be able to avoid the bullets, unsuspecting and in the relaxed position she was. Even if it did not end her (it would not be sufficient to kill himself, after all), she would be severely impaired--if he could manage to hit her torso.

Biological experiment or not, Bubba was confident of his skills. Morto was known for his own experiments, several of which Bubba had been used to put down in the past. Not the recent past, but who was counting?

So now, Bubba stepped out of his car. He was actually behind the tree she had settled under, nearly fifty yards away. The killer doubled around to the trunk of his vehicle, which was open. From inside, he retrieved a pistol with a very round, bulky barrel and a fat handle. This thing could only fire two rounds at a time before reloading, but both rounds were the explosive equivalent of grenades. The pistol was not so unwieldy as to be unable to be concealed.

After finishing up with the contents in the trunk, Bubba closed it quietly. Now, he would be making his approach.

Vincetn grunted and fell down. Thankfully it was on the bed. He growled angerly, "What the hell do you want?"

Jasmine stopped at the door. She turned her head, and said, "I like the world the way it is. I can live, I can thrive here. The police? They're a joke, and I can't get over how funny they are. They think they can stop the likes of you or me. But..." Jasmine paused, and turned fully around.

Her expression was angry, incensed. "There are those who would try to ******** with the order of things. You know about my Chinese connections. Well," and she breathed in shakily, almost laughing, "you better believe I've been milking them for all they're worth. I have to kill five people, all of them crucial to the--well, to something bad. I doubt I'll be able to do it, even with your help. But if even one of them dies... well, we can say we didn't lay down and die willingly ourselves."

The tone and manner of speech which Jasmine used was almost, fearful. Jasmine did laugh, now. "You could say that I'm your beloved police force's guardian angel. I want to preserve them. It's so funny it hurts."