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“You know,” he laughed.
“I really don’t.”
“But you do,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“Fox, that was the least clear explanation of…anything.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Alright, if you really don’t know, I’ll tell you,” he said, brushing his pointer finger along the side of his nose like this was some sleight of hand play. “The Plain of Jars dates back to the Iron Age. These large jars, some as big as ten feet tall, are scattered all over the mountains in Laos. It’s said that giants drank from them.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to give me the mystery behind his story. “And?”
“Well…large jars that giants drank from? It’s kind of mysterious.”
“Sure.”
“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes at me. “I know that sure. You don’t believe me!”
“I do believe you,” I replied in a bored tone.
“No, if you believed me, you would have said sure and made your voice go higher. But you said sure and your voice dropped. You don’t fucking believe me!”
“I do believe you,” I snapped. “I just don’t see how that’s a great mystery!”
“Well, some people believed they were actually urns. But then the question is, how did they move them into place? They weigh four hundred tons. And they can’t be examined because they’re surrounded by unexploded munitions from when the U.S. bombed the area during the Vietnam War.” He nodded at me, grinning like the idiot he was.
“Why didn’t you lead with that?” I asked sarcastically.
“Well, I thought the giants were cooler,” he said with a frown.
“Fox, none of this has anything to do with the fact that someone tried to break onto the property.”
“Ah, so you need a plan.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “And the only thing I can do is gather intel after I leave here and hope it’s not too late.”
“You’re thinking whoever was really trying to break in still has a plan.”
“Exactly. And once we leave, the property is no longer secure.”
Fox’s eyes lit up. “Unless they’re already on the property. And once we leave, they’ll sneak in and snatch what they want, leaving a trail of destruction and mayhem!”
“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”
“So, what you need is a Golden Ninja.”
I looked at him funny. “A what?”
“You need a Golden Ninja.”
“Fox, I have no fucking clue what that is!”
Rolling his eyes, he sighed heavily. “Fine, I’ll use an analogy that you’ll know, but isn’t nearly as cool. You need a Trojan Horse.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m suggesting we pull a little ruse of our own. Your lady love will be protected, the evildoers won’t get what they want, and Lock won’t technically have anything to do with it.”
“And you’re going to help me?” I asked.
