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Nothing through on Bear Island Road," she said to the surprised guard.She was a good actress. I almost believed it. We roared off down the highway toward Lake Buena Vista.I sent the prepared message to the Secretary of Homeland Security's email account, via the back door in the White House's system, at 1009 hours. Out of a sense of caution, I would refrain from monitoring the latter for several weeks; they would doubtless be alert for any unwarranted attempted visits. It didn't matter, of course, since the activity in the White House system had originated in an internet café in Osaka, Japan, that was closed at this hour. Perhaps it was my sense of pride that would be displaced if my illegal entry were to be detected at any level.I would continue to monitor Homeland Security's emails, of course.When we entered the parking lot of a Post Office that was closed for the day, we pulled around to the side of the building and Artemis jumped out and replaced the bogus DEA license plates with. He shivered, cool sheets pressing against his arms and legs which feltoddly bare.Minutes passed as he tried to move, not having much luck. Finally hemanaged to use his arms to push himself into an upright position. Swishswish bounce. Black hair dangled in front of his face lightly, bangs he'snever had before. He reaches up and brushes them aside. His hand feelssmall and thin, but he can't see much of it due to his poor vision. Heleans forward, something tugging on him from in front. He looks down butonly sees a blur of flesh on his chest surrounded by something pink.Whatever it was it was big and heavy and made his back ache. He tries tobrush it aside but it just jiggles on him, swaying back and forthlightly. Oddly though, he felt that on his chest. Somehow he had nervesthere.He reached over to his nightstand which seemed terribly far away all of asudden, he leaned over to get his glasses sitting there, which now seemedsmaller and more rounded than before compared to their square.
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