The next morning JD pulled into a long driveway lined with trees the driveway to the old farmhouse Ean had grown up in.
Okay, Ean said. Stop the car here so no one sees us. Mom keeps all my stuff in the attic, so while you keep watch I’ll scale the wall, break in and retrieve the weapon schematics.
Or, JD offered as an alternative strategy, we could go to the front door and ask for your old mail after a nice visit. I could really go for some of your mom’s home cooking after that drive.
Oh, suuuuure, Ean said crossly. You’d be a guest. You’d get free food. But I’m her kid which of us do you think will get stuck with the dishes?