Chapter 13
"You were right, Paul. Let's go on a trip," said Chloe, standing
over him as he lay on the couch, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
She wore another in a never-ending series of tight fitting
t-shirts, this one with a picture of a gorilla dressed in army
fatigues throwing a Molotov cocktail.
"What?" he asked, blearily.
"Let's go on that vacation you wanted. The operation's in the
hands of the e-Slaves now. They sure as f**k don't need us here.
Let's go to the beach."
"Great! But it's your turn to drive."
"Of course. Pack a bag - three or four days clothes and I'll try
and find a sleeping bag around here for you. We'll take off as soon
as you're up and ready to go."
"Sleeping bag? What beach are we going to?" Paul's clothes were
still stuffed in the suitcases he'd
