Join the new world

Returning from the incident at Rådhustorget, we decided to have a quick chat with the woman in the basement. She was an old girlfriend of mine, which I had to let go. Basically because I couldn't keep up with her apetite for physical interaction. You'd figgure weeks at a time would be enough, but this girl disagreed. After once passing out due to fatigue, it took me hours to escape the appartment and an additional few to re-establish my sense of time. I had been in there for almost a full month, eating nothing but order-in food.

I had even gotten fired from my job for ZiggyZag, that bastard.

We simply couldn't have her around. It would only take days before she was in 7emp's pants as well, so we had to act quickly. There was only one way.

"You're sending me in a box?"
"Yes. It's the cheapest way out, and we need all the cash we can keep."
"I'll die in there! Do you realize how long the trip will be?"
"Oh, come on! We'll smuggle you on a military plane, you'll be there before breakfast."
"What about air?"
"Well, once you've fallen asleep you won't breathe as much."
"Sleep?"
"Yes. You are to eat these". I threw a pair of Q5 sleeping pills infront of her.

"These are used by employees worldwide. These puppies can keep a fullgrown man asleep for weeks at a time."
They were every employer's worst nightmare. People would come to work for a few days, only to disapear for weeks at a time. It was the main argument for keeping the foodprices high.

"What if I refuse?"
7emp grinned at her. It was all it took.

It only took a few minutes for the pills to work. Once she was out cold, we started modifying the crate in which she would be resting. The holes could not be too big, otherwise unbribed customer's officers might try to peek through them. If they were too small however, the airflow could be insufficient. 7emp found a rather simple solution to the problem: sticking his claws through the wood. It was the perfect size.

After loading her into the van, we drove out to what was left of Kastrup Airport. Air traffic into Denmark was scarce - either it was shabby Cesnas used by citizens, or old DC-3😒, used by the Kavalergang units of the Danish Military.

"Do you have clearance?", the guard at the entrance booth said throught the speakerbox. I flashed my congressional passport, and the gates went up. Once inside, I had to pull some strings to get a DC-3 to make a stop for fuel in Iran. In order for the plane to run out of fuel, I had to convince the pilot to fly in circles for a few hours.

I had to write a check in order to pay for the smuggled vodka, located in another hangar. This had to be very lucrative to be worth it.

Driving back to the city, we could see the plane take off. She was our ticket to the tickets, so to speak.
"Allright, we need to set up a front.", I said to 73mp. "I'm hungry."