Chapter 5: preparation
After Dirga arrived at his apartment, he didn’t even bother to take off his shoes. He tossed his keys onto the table and immediately reached for his phone.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
A click. Then a voice came through, rough, gruff, and unmistakably feminine.
"Hello? Who the hell is this?"
The voice on the other end could’ve passed for a man’s if not for the sharp, slightly nasal edge. Dirga let out a soft sigh of relief.
"It’s me, Mary Jane. Dirgantara. I need your help."
There was a pause.
"Dirga? You bastard! Where the hell have you been? You win the damn lottery and disappear off the face of the Earth? That how you treat your friends?"
She shouted with such fury that Dirga instinctively pulled the phone away from his ear. If she’d been in the same room, she might’ve thrown a chair at him—or a beer bottle.
"I know, I know. I deserve that," Dirga said, sitting down on the edge of his couch. His voice lowered into something quiet, almost pleading. "Just... tell me where you are. Please."
Another pause. Then, softer this time, "I’m at Black Gun Café."