She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. Sheppard, with a look, the wildness of which greatly alarmed her companion. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. Imbecile. ’ She bit her lip, frowning. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. “Don’t think so,” Drummond answered.
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