[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=ed1c24][center][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Chapter%20Two%3A%20Retribution&name=SATAM___.ttf&size=50&style_color=ed1c24[/img][hr][img]http://www.lowbird.com/data/images/2009/06/aceeyepoke.gif[/img][/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][center][h3]
[b][i]Date:[/i][/b] Sunday May 21th, 2017[/h3][/center][center][hr] [@Sigil] [@Morose] [@Dragoknighte] [@Scallop] [@Nallore][/center][hr][hr]

	[b][i][color=ed1c24]Justice Asylum:[/color][/i][/b] - The message went out that they had a hostage situation but that meant that the cops were supposed to take care of and the staff was to put the rest of the place on lock down and make sure the other patients were as safe as they could be. With the place already a crime scene, there were cops there but these were investigating an beat cops. This wasn't SWAT, hostage negotiations, or the like. It would be a while before back up got there. The cops that were there, did what they could to get the street cleared and people pushed back and hopefully out of harms way. 

	Caesar, in his looking, would find evidence of someone jimmying the front entrance where people usually got buzzed in and the back stair well. It made it easy for him to go up the couple of flights of stairs. Who ever had done this knew what they were doing but they were obviously in a hurry and not trying to cover their tracks. 

	Up on floor "Hell" one couldn't tell if Cynthia was playing or in actual fear for her life but she kept backing up as her mother pulled her along. Marc stood in the hallway at the corner, facing them and pointing his gun towards the woman, yet he had yet to take as shot. He didn't want to hit Cynthia. Sure she had been a complete monster in High School but that wasn't who she was anymore. Okay, sure she liked painting pretty pictures with peoples bodily fluids but it wasn't her fault. Being falsely imprisoned in a looney bin and put through treatment she was never meant to have would break anyone. 

	[color=82ca9d]"Let her go,"[/color] Marc said calmly as he took a step forward. Catching the view of Cecily and some mammoth of a man coming towards him. A quick see to look them over before his eyes went right back to Cynthia and her so called mother. He spotted the badge on Keystone and Cecily didn't seem to be there against her will, so he focused on the obvious threat. Though a thought did cross his mind, he wondered if the man with Cecily could pull a train with his teeth. Fuck he was large. 

	"Not gonna happen Tinder, now back off!" the woman spat, jamming he needle a little deeper into Cynthia's throat muscles. Marc cocked a brow, how in the hell did she knew his name? 

	[color=82ca9d]"Just take it easy, we can work this out."[/color]

	"Drop the gun or she's dead."

	Any other mother, Marc would have questioned whether or not a mother would really kill her own child but the look in this woman's eye told him she would have no problem pushing in the plunger. Holding his hands up slowly, he kept the gun in one hand not yet ready to put it down on the ground. [color=82ca9d]"Easy now, you don't want to hurt her. She's your daughter right? Looks just like you,"[/color] he said trying to buy time. 

	

	[b][i][color=ed1c24]Zoies Farm:[/color][/i][/b] - Relic couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just looking over at his sister slack jawed. Had she really just suggested what he thought he heard her suggest? He shook his head quickly, as if to clean out the cobwebs from his ears. He had to be hearing things. Turned out he wasn't. Mali started talking and Relic could his jaw would have become unhinged. Was she not only not saying no, she was discussing it. Granted most of what she was saying was reasons why it wouldn't work, though she had posed an alternative. 

	"And I'm a high school graduate with no formal education from backwoods Ga," Zoie said nonchalantly as she leaned back on the couch and sat in repose, taking on a much more formal tone and losing her accent. "Sure, degrees and money help. That was if we were going to use your real name and life story. You need a cover story no matter what. Exclusive or girlfriend, even body guard: be best if we tried to keep your real identity hidden. You can be anything you want to be," she added slyly as she ran her fingers over the back of the couch. 

	"And just how are you going to get a fake identity for her," relic finally chimed in. 

	"You." Her answer was flat and blunt. Relic hadn't even considered it but he understood why she said him. One he was close, she knew she could trust him. Two he had skills. Three, which he didn't know just how much or little his sister was aware of, he had been keeping pretty close tabs on Boston Heights, so he knew how to wipe the files and videos of Mali from there. The more he thought of it, the more he realized they might actually be able to pull this off. 

	[b][i][color=ed1c24]Justice Memorial Hospital:[/color][/i][/b] - Pushing her way into the operating room, Natasha held her hands out and let the nurse glove her. the lead doctor was already in there and they were now just waiting on the anesthesiologist, who was still scrubbing up. Iv's had been taken care of, fluids were running, but that was all right then. they couldn't do much until Felix was under for the surgery. 

	A few whispered words were exchanged between the lead and Natasha before she looked down at Felix. [color=f26522]"This is going to take a while, just relax, the time will fly for you,"[/color] she said from behind her mask but her eyes held a kindness to them. 

	"You'll be out in no time," the anesthesiologist said as he came in and plopped down behind Felix. Taking the mask he placed it over Felix's mouth and nodded. "Now, just look at Dr. Brinne and breath deeply," he added as he turned the gas on. "Ten, nine, eight, seven," the man said as he started to count down until one. Felix would be out cold before he hit five. 

	Checking his vitals, the lead gave the go ahead to start. This would not be quick. They would be in surgery for up to eight hours and then at least another two before Felix would wake up in recovery. Ten hours to see whether the eye could be saved or not, and if not what they could do to minimize the pain and adjustment. Either way, it was going to be a very long night ahead. 

	Over in the Chapel, nothing was happening. Nothing accept for a family sitting there praying for their loved one. every so often one of them would look over and spot Riley just standing there. It didn't look like she was there to pray but to watch them. One of them finally got up and walked over to her. "Listen," he said in a thick Mexican accent. "You not here to pray, please leave. Our grief isn't your reality show," he said bluntly before walking back over to his family and wrapping an arm around the older woman.