chapter twenty eight

tracker

(this is not proof read im sorry)

Mitch had been in this job long enough to know that the first twenty four hours were the most important. If Stan wasn't having other members of the CIA out looking for her because they were prioritising the codes, then it meant they were probably letting Angeline slip by like nothing. This was probably when the most clues would be dropped. When they were most likely to slip up.

As soon as the nurse had changed his bandages and given him some medication for the pain in his shoulder, he began to take action. Mitch was about to slip the IV out of his arm when the door reopened. He audibly groaned, rolling his eyes as he glanced over.

Irene Kennedy entered, ebony hair straightened to perfection as always, tall and intimidating, unafraid of the assassin in the hospital bed. She marched over and slammed a box down onto the bedside table beside him. Mitch refrained from reacting to it.

"What are these?" Irene demanded sternly.

Mitch's tongue darted out to wet his lips and then he glanced back up at Irene casually. "I would say that those were a box of condoms. Specifically designed for males. Also known as contraception -"

Irene bared her teeth as she slammed them back down even harder. "I know what condoms fucking are, Rapp. What were they doing in Angeline Lewis' bag?"

Mitch feigned confusion. "How am I supposed to fucking know? My job was to get her from A to B safely, which I fucking failed at by the way, not to search through her bag."

"Drop the tone with me," Irene seethed, "You're lucky I hid these from Stan. He would not have been impressed, Rapp. Now tell me - were you having a sexual relationship with Angeline Lewis?"

The dark haired man was thankful that he had perhaps one of the world's best poker faces. Nothing managed to slip past as Irene looked him in the eye, unblinking even for a split second.

"No," Mitch replied bluntly, "I wasn't. If you must know, Angeline and I didn't even get along. That being said, I still want her alive. So why the hell is Stan not sending out people to go and look for her?"

"He told you that she wrote the codes down in that little book, didn't he?" Irene dropped the previous conversation, stuffing the condoms away with a roll of the eyes - she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with him.

Mitch Rapp was just as stubborn as he was a good liar. She would know  - she had been the one to recruit him in the first place. Back when he was merely just an angry nineteen year old who had watched his entire family be brutally murdered whilst on vacation.

"Yes, he told me that," Mitch huffed, "But that doesn't explain why we're suddenly abandoning her. Not when it had been so important for her to stay alive for the past two weeks."

"Mitch, your job was to protect the codes, not her. You knew that from the start," Irene reminded him bluntly. "Besides, it wouldn't have gone on for so long if she had just given the codes to you. She put the both of you in danger by refusing - it went on far longer than it had to. We're just lucky she decided to write them down for some reason. My guess is it was so that she wouldn't forget."

Mitch closed his eyes for a few moments. "She's still a human being. Is that not worth protecting?"

"She's one human being in comparison to the thousands, maybe millions, that will die if we don't get to those bombs in time, Rapp," Irene told him. "I'm sorry if it hurts to hear, but it's the truth."

There was a heavy silence that hung between them for a while. Mitch had nothing to say to Irene. He felt disgusted with her and Stan and the rest of the CIA. He felt disgusted with himself for getting hurt and putting Angeline in danger. If he had just been more careful. If he had been smarter and stronger and more resilient...

Angeline could be dead by now. The thought was enough to make his stomach lurch and his face grimace. It was the first emotion Irene had seen on him since she entered the room.

She sighed heavily. "I think I'll leave you to recover, Mitch. We'll be sure to keep you updated about how the others are progressing. It should be easier from here. And the sooner it's over, the sooner we can look for Miss Lewis."

When Mitch agreed to take on this mission, the last thing he had suspected was to practically be the personal assistant of a seventeen year old girl. Daniel Lewis had given him the instructions that Mitch was to specialise in making sure Angeline and Elliot were okay and safe, except with Elliot going to work with Mr Lewis half of the time, Mitch felt like he was just a personal babysitter to the girl. Though he much preferred her to her brother.

However, it turned out she made a lot of mistakes. Today, that was sleeping in late on a school day. When she hadn't responded to his knocks at her bedroom door, Mr Lewis had instructed him to go right in, much to Mitch's discomfort. He stood at the side of her bed and called her name to wake her, managing successfully after nearly a minute.

"I apologise for coming into your room, Miss Lewis, but you weren't waking up when I knocked your door," Mitch apologised as she looked around, confused and dazed. "Your father told me to wake you."

"Wha- What time is it?" The brunette questioned.

"Eleven in the morning, Miss Lew-"

"Oh my God, please don't call me that," Angeline cut him off, brown eyes widening when she realised what he had said. "Awh, bloody hell. I'm so fucking late."

The last thing Mitch had been suspecting after that was for the teenage girl to scramble out of the covers wearing the smallest set of pyjamas he had ever seen. His head flipped to the side immediately out of respect, glad he had only been able to see a flash of tan skin and a mess of dark hair. He cleared his throat to remind her that he was still in the room, turning his back completely on her whilst she dived in her closet for some clothes.

"Your father instructed that I call you Miss Lewis," Mitch attempted to steer the conversation back to its original discourse.

"I don't care what my dad says." He heard her faint grumbles. "Y'know, he doesn't believe in taxing the rich? You shouldn't take anything he says seriously."

A faint smile crossed Mitch's face, a small breath coming from his nose. Angeline certainly was different to the rest of her family who had been pushing him nonstop since he started working for them nearly four weeks ago now. He was definitely glad he had been stuck with her for the meantime, although it made getting those codes a hell of a lot harder since, so far, Mitch was pretty sure she wasn't involved in the Lewis' family business.

"I suppose my dad said you're dropping me to school today?" Angeline asked, moments later retreating from her closet dressed in a ditsy summer dress and some white converse.

Mitch gave her a short nod. "Yes... Angeline."

It felt awkward to call her by her first name. Wrong on his tongue, even. Mitch was hoping she would have just let him call her 'Miss Lewis' whilst they were together - it would make it easier for him to think of her as less of a person and more as an obstacle in this mission he was supposed to be tackling.

"Hey, that's better," she grinned at him before she grabbed a few things from her vanity. "I need to use the bathroom, I'll be down by the car in fifteen minutes maximum."

"Okay. Don't be late."

Mitch had thought he hated being her 'babysitter' more than anything, and yet right now, he found himself wishing he could do it all over again. He would have done things differently. Now, knowing how much of a curious being she was, he wouldn't have been so vague with his warnings. It's probably what drove her into her father's office and caused her to stumble upon the codes in the first place.

Yet again, all of the blame led back to Mitch.

As soon as Irene left the hospital room, Mitch ripped the IV out. He grunted a little, teeth gritted as he moved out of the bed. The hospital floor was cold beneath his feet, almost startlingly so, but he ignored it as he moved to the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a mess. His scruff had seemed to grow two times quicker than usual, dark circles beneath his eyes and his skin pale. He peeled back the hospital gown to reveal the dressing that the nurse had reapplied only minutes ago, clean and barely aching now that he had some medication in him.

Mitch took one final look in the mirror after splashing some cold water in his face and made a promise as he stared into his own stern, hazel eyes.

He would find Angeline.

....

Angeline had probably been awake for about two hours when Darcy left the room. So far it had just been yelling and screaming. The brunette girl almost felt as though her father had been training her for this moment. She was all too used to the yelling - this was nothing to her. She could easily sit back and take the verbal abuse.

It was when it was about her friends or Mitch that she had to grit her teeth the hardest. Her Ciara. Paige. Those two had taken her under their wing as soon as she stepped foot into Fair Hill High. They'd made her feel welcomed and loved - and most importantly like she had a place in the group.

All of the parties they'd been to together... The clothes that they had swapped and the pictures that they had taken. Everything was just a memory now. Not to happen again. Because they'd been murdered. Because of her. 

And Mitch! Somehow, despite knowing him the shortest amount of time, he occupied the majority of her mind. Mitch was dead. He'd tried so hard to save the both of them, and yet when it came down to it, she had been unable to save him. She'd probably made all of the wrong choices and now he was dead. Because of her. 

Perhaps he hurt the most because she knew she was stuck here now. Nobody was going to come and save her - her protector was gone. She couldn't count on Mitch to come and rescue her.

Or maybe it was because it was only now, after learning she could never have him again, that she was realising maybe she had fallen in love with the brooding asshole at some point in the past few months.

In love.

Angeline had never been in love before. Maybe she wasn't in love with Mitch. Maybe they were just strong romantic feelings? Either way... It didn't matter. He was gone. Forever.

She couldn't even cry about it. No matter how much her heart screamed at her to do so. No matter how badly her eyes stung and her body felt like collapsing on her. She supposed she was probably in shock. After all, this whole situation was all kinds of fucked up. Angeline would mourn Mitch later - or at this rate, maybe she would be joining him soon anyway.

"I hate to say it, Angeline, but if you're not gonna start talking, I'm gonna have to start getting violent with you," Darcy said.

Angeline barely processed her for a few moments. She thought maybe being left alone for about fifteen minutes with nothing but her thoughts had made the situation sink in a bit more. She was probably in shock.

"Hello?" Darcy suddenly yanked Angeline by the hair, forcing her head up. "Anybody fucking in there?"

Angeline swallowed thickly. "I have nothing left to live for, so be as violent as you want. I'll die with these codes. I don't give a fuck."

There was an eerie silence. Angeline thought maybe she should have considered her words before she said them - but when had she ever done that before? All she could do was prepare herself for the first blow. She groaned, her head knocking to the side. This time it wasn't Darcy's palm but her knuckles, and the blonde woman meant business.

Angeline had never been punched around the face before, but it hurt far more than a slap. It ached and sent knives through her, her ears buzzing as she tried to blink and quickly recover. It was like she was granted an instant headache deep within her skull.

"Come on. First number or letter of the code, Angeline," Darcy spat, "I'm happy to take my time with you if you start confessing."

Angeline didn't say anything. She tried to keep a neutral face.

"Fine," Darcy snapped, raising her fist again.

"Okay! Okay!" Angeline flinched, quickly struggling to swerve away in the confinements of the chair she was still tied to. "Okay, I'll - I'll start talking if you just - if you stop with all of the hitting."

Darcy raised an eyebrow and glanced behind her at one of the men holding a gun. She gave him a firm nod. Angeline swallowed nervously, her heart pounding.

"Go on..." Darcy dared her.

"Okay," Angeline squeaked, "But what will I get out of this? Will you let me go?"

Darcy scoffed. "I thought you had nothing else to live for?"

"I don't want to be brutally murdered," Angeline cried. "And - And my mother. I have my mother to live for."

"I must have knocked some sense into you," the blonde scowled. "If you give us the code, we'll let you go."

Angeline knew it was a lie. She wasn't stupid. Most likely, she was dead either way. But she nodded anyway.

"Okay. You might need to write it down, it's quite complicated," she said timidly.

Darcy jerked her hand out and one of the men placed a notebook in her hand. She grabbed the pen accompanying it and flipped the pages open, looking at Angeline expectantly.

"Go on!" Darcy ordered impatiently.

"Okay, okay. It's... It's the number five."

"Five..." Darcy nodded, writing it down.

"U, C."

"U... C..." She repeated back.

"And then a 'K' and, ur, 'M', I think it was."

"K... M..."

"Y, D, the number one, and then a bracket symbol..."

Darcy's head snapped up to face her. "A bracket?"

"Oh.. Sorry. You call them parentheses over here. Just like, the one that faces inwards. That one. The curved one, not the box-like one."

Darcy rolled her eyes and jotted it down.

"And then a K."

Angeline waited. Perhaps putting her life on the line to make a fool out of Darcy was stupid, but she really had meant it when she said she had nothing left to live for. And she'd rather go out making them all feel stupid and angry rather than smug and victiorius.

"Really?" Darcy growled as she looked down at the finished product and back up at Angeline. "You think this is a joke? You find this funny? Being strapped to a chair? Where I could take your life at any minute?"

"No, seriously, that's the code," Angeline bit her lip.

"You're fucking dead, Angeline."

"I'm fucking funny -"

She clenched her jaw in preparation for the next fist that hit her. Angeline groaned as the chair toppled this time, her weight becoming dead as she landed on the ground with a smack. It hurt less hitting the concrete ground than she had anticipated, but her jaw was now killing her. It felt sore and broken.

A kick was delivered to her ribs and she cried out, wishing she could move or fight back. When the second one was delivered, she swore she felt something shift out of place. She was pretty certain that at least one of her ribs was fractured by the heavy boots Darcy wore.

"Fuck you!" Angeline coughed, "Fuck you! I'll never fucking tell you shit. You terrorist nonce."

She could practically hear Mitch's voice in her head begging for her to just shut up. To just cooperate or at least be quiet and try not to piss off the people holding her hostage. But Angeline couldn't stop. She was so fucking angry. So angry at her father and Darcy and the world and her friends and Mitch for dying.

She thought it would be better if she was just gone. If Darcy lost her temper and just put an end to her right now. So with what must have been the fifth kick, she closed her eyes and prayed that it would be the last she felt.

But then a booming voice carried out across the room.

"Darcy." It was Williams. "I think it's my turn. Maybe I will have more luck."

...

Mitch knew all of this would come back to bite him in the ass when it was over, but for now, he had one mission and one mission only: find Angeline and save her. He was lucky enough to have connections to people who he knew before he worked with the CIA. People who would give him guns and other weapons with no question asked. Someone who would give him a car that couldn't be tracked.

It was all dodgy and wrong, but it was the only way if his superiors weren't deeming Angeline important enough to go looking for. Wherever she was, Mitch could only hope that she was laying low and cooperating as much as she could without giving away the codes. She was a smart girl, but Mitch also knew how other things managed to take over at times.

It had been sixteen hours since Angeline had been taken. He'd been unconscious for half of them, but he wasn't sure about her. He knew she was loud and headstrong— she wouldn't have gone down without a fight. Perhaps they'd had to drug her. Maybe they'd just knocked her out.

Mitch knew she was alive. There was no way Angeline would give up the codes this soon. She was too determined. Too caring. She knew what was on the line, and he was sure she'd rather die than aid them all.

A quick flight back to California and he found himself heading up the very same driveway that he had gotten used to staring at each morning and night when he woke up.  He knew where every camera was. Knew where every single trap was that would set off alarms. Over the past few months, Mitch had gotten to know the huge house well enough to know that there was no security camera that pointed at the window of one of the bathrooms at the very back of the house.

The top of the window was the only part that opened, and it was far too small for Mitch to slip through. He gritted his teeth, glad he was wearing a jacket today as he slammed his elbow into the glass, holding his wrist for more power. On the second go, it smashed, glass crumbling from the pane. Mitch barely winced at the pain, hoisting himself through the window instead.

Once he was through, he grabbed his pistol and held it in front of him, conscious of the fact that he was now deep in enemy territory. If there was anybody who had an excessive amount of information on Williams, then it was going to be Daniel Lewis. They were against each other in every way possible - Mitch remembered how often they spoke about where Williams was moving to, what he was doing.

When Williams arrived at the house that day and Angeline had been at the front gate, Daniel Lewis had been so panicked about how close he had been to the house that Mitch was forced to take night shifts for a good few days after that. Mr Lewis ended up hiring more security for when he went to work and when he moved from the house to other areas of Fair Hill.

Mitch couldn't hear anything in the house. In fact, it seemed eerily silent. Nobody was rushing towards the sound of the smashing window, so either everybody was too far away to hear it, or nobody was home. Mitch hoped with all his heart that it was the second option. It would make this so much easier.

The dark-haired man swallowed as he opened the door, his gun still ready to be used on anybody who got in the way. He left the bathroom, finding himself in the back of the house, near the kitchens. Mitch moved slowly and cautiously, silent as a mouse, heading to the stairs.

However, a bang came from behind him. Mitch ducked on instinct and whirled around, his finger nearly pushing the trigger and shooting, but he froze last second. The sound had been pots and pans crashing to the ground, and the chef, Peggy if Mitch remembered correctly, looked horrified.

"Rapp?" Peggy gaped, eyes wide and her apron covered in flour. "What are you doing back? They said you had - that you had kidnapped Angeline! And - And you murdered Renolds! A bullet in his head!"

Mitch kept his gun slightly raised on her, still apprehensive. "Angeline's in trouble. I've never and will not hurt her. But I need to get to the security room, Peggy. And I really hope you won't get in my way, because as much as I don't want to, I would pull this trigger on you if I had to."

Peggy looked stunned and slightly pale, her shaky hands dusting herself off a little. "Well - I - I don't know what to say."

"Is anybody else home?" Mitch demanded.

"No, no," Peggy stammered, "I mean, Elliot is due home in an hour, which - which is why I am cooking. But Mr Lewis has been gone for days. He's not due home anytime soon."

This was news to Mitch and he wasn't sure exactly what it meant. Maybe Mr Lewis was moving forward with his plans to let off the bombs, or perhaps he had joined the mission on hunting down Angeline.

"I'm going to tie your wrist to this," Mitch said, patting the kitchen island which had a beam pole underneath holding it up. "For both of our safety. I'm sure Elliot will release you when he returns in an hour."

Peggy paled even more, if that was possible. "P- Please, I won't call anyone -"

"If I don't, you will have to come with me up to the security room and I will have to have my gun pointed at you at all times," Mitch said, "And trust me, I have been taught not to hesitate."

Peggy weakly nodded. "There's - there's zip ties in the drawer to your left," she croaked, her head hanging low. "I use them to seal up bags to stop food going off."

Mitch had barely turned to open the draw for a second when he heard Peggy move behind him. She'd dove to swipe up one of the pans, but before she could raise it high enough to hit him, Mitch swung his gun to hit her temple. The older woman dropped down to the ground, blood already leaking from her wound. Mitch grimaced, but he was sure she wasn't dead. He was telling the truth when he said he didn't want to shoot her.

He leaned down and grabbed a phone from her apron, smashing it beneath his boot-clad foot just in case she decided to regain consciousness whilst he was still upstairs. Mitch knew as soon as she had told him where she could find zip ties that she was not going to be helping him - after all, she probably thought he was some crazy killer that had kidnapped a teenage girl.

Mitch didn't hesitate to leave the room, jogging up the stairs to go and find the security room. He had one hour before Elliot arrived home, and he hoped that would be enough time. If not, Mitch supposed he would be knocking out another person today. Elliot might put up more of a fight than Peggy, though. Nothing Mitch couldn't handle.

Just as Mitch was about to enter the security room, he paused. It dawned on him suddenly that, with absolutely nobody home, Mitch could go inside Lewis' office instead. But, Mitch also knew that it would set off alarms for security members. It was why Angeline had been caught so quickly, and how Mitch knew to come and save her from Renolds when she had stumbled upon those codes a couple of weeks back now.

Mitch thought hard for a few moments. He weighed his options out in his mind, and soon found himself pushing open the door to the security room rather than the office. He would have more time here, and he'd be being watched on less cameras.

He began to throw things off of the desk at top speed, hunting around and searching through piles and piles of folders to find something on Williams. Mitch needed to know all the places Lewis knew Williams owned, all of the places that Williams spent time and worked out. Then, he would have more narrowed ideas on where to find Angeline.

He was finding nothing. Mitch slammed the drawer shut in frustration, slamming his fists down on the tables as the minutes dwindled by. Angeline's chances of survival were growing weaker and weaker because of him, because he wasn't meant for all of this research - he was just sent places and told who to kill and when.

Mitch grabbed another drawer, pulling it open and scanning the names on top of the manilla folders. Before he could get anywhere, he heard a faint crackle from somewhere in the room. The dark haired man froze for a moment.

"Winston... house... check.... Lewis... out."

Mitch jumped. It was the crackle of a radio. He dove amidst the mess he had made, throwing things about until he found a walkie talkie underneath one of the computer desks. Mitch grabbed it and held down on the button, holding it to his mouth.

"Your connection was all over the place. Out," Mitch said.

"- Hear me now? Out."

Mitch could have jumped in relief. "Yes, I can hear you. Out."

"Good. Have you heard anything from Lewis, Winston? Out."

Mitch wasn't sure who he was talking to since he didn't recognise the voice, but he knew that he was supposed to be Winston. He was glad that he knew who Winston was so it (hopefully) wouldn't be too hard to play his part.

"Nothing. You? Out," Mitch replied.

"He reckons we give it another day before we raid the place," the man on the other end replied, "Rapp and Lewis' daughter have been there for nearly forty-eight hours now. You know what Lewis was like. 'Wait until they stop again so we can attack them properly.' He was so pissed the last time they got away. Out."

Mitch's heart pounded and his mind began to race. Lewis and his team thought that Mitch was still with Angeline, and somehow they knew where she was. In fact, they knew she had been in the same place for forty-eight hours.

"He wants to wait another day?" Mitch tried to reply as normally as possible. "What if Rapp figures out? They'll just move again. Out."

"Well, we don't think Rapp knows about the tracker Lewis has on her yet," the man replied and Mitch's blood suddenly went cold. "Otherwise he probably would have cut it out of her by now. He probably thinks we're just good at following close behind or picking up clues. We'd have been fucking nowhere without that tracker. Out."

The man had clearly thought 'Winston' was talking about Mitch finding out about the tracker, not that they had been staking out where Angeline was for days. He felt furious, disgusted... For a few moments, Mitch was at loss for words.

"Do you think his daughter knows anything about the tracker? Out," Mitch managed, wanting more information on it.

"The hell do you mean, Winston? Of course not. No. His son's got no idea that he's got one of him, either. What is wrong with you? How would she know if Lewis doesn't even tell most of his security team about it?" The man replied gruffly, "Are you back on the alcohol? Out."

Mitch hesitated. "No, I'm not. I just forgot for a moment," he answered cautiously, "Lewis is the only one who can see these trackers, isn't he? Out."

The silence was a little too long for Mitch's liking. "Who is this?" The man on the other end spat.

Mitch dropped the walkie talkie and cursed. He'd pushed his luck with that one, and he'd run out of it. But his lack of answer told Mitch everything he needed to know. Winston was in on who could and who couldn't see where Angeline and Elliot were, and so there was definitely a chance that Winston had access to the trackers too.

He grabbed his pistol off of the floor and moved out of the security room, heading for the room which he knew was Winston's. He pushed it open, surprised to find it unlocked. Even more so, Mitch was shocked to find the man himself in his bed, his arm hanging over, an empty bottle of beer beneath him that was pooling out onto the carpet. It reeked of alcohol and his rubbish bin was filled to the brim with cans of it.

Peggy had said that she was home alone, but Mitch knew it was probably so Winston would have a chance against an unsuspecting Mitch.

Mitch pushed the barrel of the gun against Winston's temple and pressed down a little. The man beneath him flickered his eyes open, the icy blues quickly enlarging when he saw who was hovering over his bed.

"Rise and shine, Winston," Mitch growled, "Drunk and sleeping on the job? Not very professional of you."

"Rapp," Winston slurred, and Mitch was nearly thrilled to find that the man was still drunk - this would make it ten times easier for him. "No - Nobody's supposed to be home for hours."

"Well, I'm back," Mitch snapped, "And I need to know how to access this tracker that Angeline has in the back of her neck. I need to find out where she is. Right now."

Winston closed his eyes and groaned. "My head hurts."

"I don't give a fuck," Mitch snapped, "I'll make your fucking head hurt in a minute when I put a fucking bullet through it if you don't tell me where I can find this tracker."

Winston groaned again, barely reacting to the threat. Mitch doubted he would even remember this reaction come the time he finally managed to sober up.

"Just don't tell Lewis I'm pissed on the job, yeah?" Winston grumbled as he stumbled towards his wardrobe.

Mitch allowed him to, but kept his finger hovering over the trigger in case Winston tried anything. He doubted he would though - Mitch was actually pretty sure that Winston was so drunk that he had forgotten that Mitch no longer worked for Lewis and was rather an enemy of him.

Winston pulled open a drawer and pulled out the same tablet device that Mitch used to use when he worked here. He clicked on an app that revealed a map, and Mitch could see two red circular dots flashing. They were very far away from each other. One was much closer to the house and the other was... in New York.

"Fuck!" Mitch cursed, knowing that it would be hours and hours before he managed to get to the other side of the country. He reached forwards and yanked it out of Winston's grasp.

"It's fucking bullshit, isn't it?" Winston groaned, rubbing his head. "All of this fucking work for some fucking terrorist. Lewis wonders why I don't give a fuck anymore."

Mitch watched him stumble back to his bed. As soon as he hit the pillow, he seemed to lose consciousness again. Mitch very nearly felt pity for the man. Nearly. It was a sad, sad sight, but he had far higher priorities, and now he was a step closer.

Mitch was going to find Angeline.

...

I SAW A TIKTOK ON THIS BOOK AND LIKE 1/3 OF THE COMMENTS WERE LIKE 'BUT SHE HASNT UPDATED IN SO LONG' AND I WAS LIKE ??? GUYS I UPDATED LAST WEEK?? AND THEN I CHECKED AND IT'S BEEN NEARLY A MONTH AND I AM SO SORRY MY LOVELY LOVELY READERS I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH AND I PROMISE I TRY MY HARDEST AND I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS AND READS AND VOTES AND THE TIKTOKS AND THE COMMENTS ON THOSE TIKTOKS AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN I JUST WANNA GIVE U ALL BIG BIG HUGS AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE HUGS THEN SOMETHING ELSE :) i am drunk but my appreciation is endless and i actually genuinely mean it.

also in case youre confused by what irene meant, mitch knew that he was supposed to be protecting the codes and not angeline, so he didn't want her to tell him the codes because he knew she wouldn't be a priority anymore after that and would be in danger, but instead he told stan and irene that she wouldn't give up the codes when really it was the other way round

love you guys thanks for reading!!

word count: 5.5k

dyiansobrien.