Pokemon Resistancecharts

CHAPTER 2. We


2.Hoyos in the sand "We've lost," Matsuda said looking at the map. When Newton snatched it out of hand "How are we going to be lost? Two fucking days ago that we do not take a single crossing." Matsuda looked coldly: "Yet we lost. We should have arrived three hours at a gas station. Three hours would you say whores."
There was silence inside the van, only heard the crackling of the paper. "China's fucking right." Yet it is this kind of map that indicates how far stations whores? ". Matsuda blow his recovery from a map, which at the time was a long cylinder of paper for that hit Newton's head." Japanese, Persian lamb, I'm Japanese. And the road maps, especially in the desert, it is normal to the slightest reference to, as they are often completely empty landscapes where there is nothing to be guided. "
The van continued to sail out into nothing, crossing gray-edged stone that started the desert and lost in two perpendicular on the horizon.
Clarisse Arlton drove while still doing their Sudokus at his side. Behind Lou reading "another year of Quixote, fighting continued Matsuda with the map while still sleeping to Fishbourne. Newton did nothing.
Several holes appear in the back door dotting the interior. When a thunderous noise passes overhead and disappears into the distance.
"Wow." Newton was the first to realize what they have been scattered and that Fishburne will never wake up. "Sons of bitches. Since when does the military target practice with civilian vehicles?"
The van stopped on the dusty shoulder of the road and Arlton, slowly lower the vehicle, remove the body of Fishbourne and starts digging in the sand. If anything is clear is that the army does not use jet engine, who have been fired already done by just for fun.
not had a chance to take a shovel in the van. Neither profession was coming from experience when making holes. I had never worked for an undertaker, but more than once commanded them work.
Another hole, another death. Think Arlton. He hurt his old bones, old scars, while cava. But is he and only he who should do it. Because he created the group, with a goal as different from today that almost can not remember who took shortcuts on the way to end this way. How many times have you to mistake to end the other side?
Worst of all, it had made to the idea that any more of your guys die. For that calculated as each of his blows. So, if need be passed through a desert in search of a bank of a lonely old people. From the world so that nobody would suspect the vast amount of millions that a drug cartel had put there. They had been making those shots
for three years, but this was the second "unofficial." Almost all of them were excellent police or military, recruited for the Traveling Narcotics Group. Their work, move around the world robbing banks where drug cartels deposited their money is not laundered. Robbed them of billions a year, and banks could not even report the theft of money that, in principle, did not exist.
Everything was perfect, with the money they stole from drug dealers subsidize its operations, pay their salaries appealing and everything else (which was a lot) went to the high "instances." All content, minus the drug traffickers who were falling one by one. Yes, everything was perfect until politics entered the equation. Everything went to air, called heads, and as always, were the most expendable, the last in the queue. Theirs.
It was entirely predictable, expected and therefore studied. They went after them and found only smoke. Yet they saved the dirty work of destroying the information, names, account numbers, addresses ... This information was traveling with them, and used it more lucrative to their persecuted lives.
I always was the same, while burying one of their guys thought, helplessly, on the other. The beautiful redhead
Clarisse, always so secretive. A young eminence of medicine was well aware of any chemical compound, any medicine, because he had tried them all. He had managed to snag so many drugs that would be impossible to memorize them all and had earned extra money by selling their particular version of paradise and chemistry among their peers.
Lou, another promising young army. A true master of mechanics and computer science. In his twelve years came in the defense systems of any country like opening a refrigerator. At that same age was arrested after a police chase of three hours, attended by fifteen police vehicles and three helicopters. They were lucky to be out of gasoline. Was recruited by the army to enter the base memory of the other countries, but he kept going where he wanted. Then there was
Matsuda. Temperamentally unstable so that you never knew if he had raised with the left foot, with the right or to the head. For all purposes was a mystery how someone so hyper as she could, when he took his sniper rifle, reduce their breathing rate to near clinical death, get a pulse for a surgeon to kill and become almost a statue.
And finally there was the crazy Newton. The only one who did not come from any military, although the same place as the rest of the group: the prison. Newton began his promising pitching career manhole covers to the windows of supermarkets. Later he was to raise the bar and it was already stolen car which hit the armored moons of small banks and jewelers. After a few years state launched an ambitious tour of federal bank robbery. With just a old ford, a gun without bullets and a mask tube Pamela Anderson in check police around the country for two years. When we caught had not committed a single crime of blood, and as most of the money that was stolen was black money, it was able to report the theft of a small amount. He gladly returned multiplied by five, "the same number of years who was punished.

Arlton threw the shovel inside the van and went up to her. Nobody said anything, because there was nothing to say. After the sound of the ignition keys and a silent vibration the vehicle was launched. Well after a day