Well, Stumblr just arrived. I don't see much about him, but then again most people don't see much in me, either. At least our other mercenary brought plenty of guns. We now have about a dozen guys guarding this place, inside and out. I fucking dare you to get in here, Fisk. Just let me see you try. I could use some entertainment in this place.
In other news, Ava's mother is doing just fine. She just went to sleep, and while she had been tossing and turning, she seems mostly fine. That woman is holding up like a champion, Ava; I told you a simple house fire wouldn't keep her down. My father and my uncle are inside, keeping watch. My aunt and her own colleagues are outside, in case these guys sneak up. We've got motion activated lights outside. Good fucking luck.
Now, then, let's see what Stumblr's good for. Apparantly he can speak French just fine, so we've got a...20 year old Interpol agent at my house. Neat. Any good at cooking, or can we just expect more scrambled eggs and slightly black chicken tomorrow?
Oh, one final note. Apparantly Ava and her people are planning something big for tomorrow? You've got my best. If you do happen to need anything, let me know; I'll try to pass on what little wisdom I can find looking in from my comfy home. Probably not much.