Now that I had my funding, I realized something else. I have no bank account or ID, and I look vaguely mexican in my half torn clothes.

Yeah. No bank would cash my check for me.

More likely, I would get arrested and deported to another unfamiliar land, only this time, I won't know the local tongue.

So... not a great idea.

As I sat on my hotel bed, scratching my head about my next move, I realized I knew only the bare bones of the plot and characters in the show, what with having last seen it years ago.

But still, I remembered the plot of the missing millions.

A certain woman by the name of Niki Sanders had stolen 2 million dollars from Lindermann, the shadowy casino magnate and part time illuminati guy and pinned the blame of the robbery on her husband, D.L. Hawkins, who had now gone on a run from the law and from Lindermann's goons.

A Niki Sanders who lived right here in Las Vegas.

Except I didn't know her address.

And Lindermann sure as hell wasn't going to hand it to me.

"Tch!" I groaned.

How am I even gonna do this if I can't get my hands on some money!?

All those fanfics and not one breaches this topic!

"Aaarg!" I cried pounding on the bed in frustration, when I spotted the smoke alarm on the ceiling, encased in a curious black shell.

Memories fell unlocked in my mind at the curiousity and I remembered.

"Shit! Didn't Lindermann install spy cameras in all his rooms?!" I muttered, "Probably bugged the shit out of the beds too."

No. Nope. Ille poda!

I need to get the fuck out of here right now, before I get caught on tape like Nathan Petrelli last night.

Wait! That's it!

Nathan Petrelli!

He was caught on tape having an extramarital affair, to be used by Lindermann as blackmail in his political campaign.

But what was more important was the woman he had his affair with.

One Niki Sanders.

The Niki Sanders. E-Girl extraordinaire.

A psycho with super strength and multiple personality disorder.

"I know how to find her!" I exclaimed, as a small red LED came alive in the smoke alarm, barely noticeable.

If I wasn't staring right at it, I would have missed it, nine times out of ten.

And that just strengthened my resolve as I booked it out of the hotel, and into the public library.

Opening up the browser, I typed in the cam site she stripped on, and clicked through her profile.

Bingo bango!

She had her home address right there, for everyone to view.

Truly, this was 2000s, the innocent years before people started to fear data theft and doxxing, when they would just post their life out online.

Copying down her address, I raised a middle finger at the librarian mean mugging me for watching porn in broad daylight, as I set out for the heist of my career.

Let's get me some cha ching!

As I arrived by her street, I spotted a bright red car outside her house.

Another memory emerged within me as I remembered the plot now.

Today, the goons of Mr. Lindermann would come to warn her about her outstanding debts and attempt to sexually harass her.

In that moment, her alternate personality, Rebecca takes over and kills them, burying them somewhere deep in the Nevada desert.

She has probably killed Lindermann's goons right about now.

Which means she'll be heading out to bury their bodies soon.

Realizing the opportunity, I hid behind a nearby house, waiting, watching.

Though, I didn't need to wait long, as she soon appeared outside, carrying black trash bags, got in the car and left.

Once I was sure she was gone, I crept out of my hiding place and made my way across the street, slinking over her fence and into her back porch.

There in the shade, I checked every door and window, until I found the kitchen window open, probably to let out all that bloody smell from the corpses she dismembered.

Her mistake, my profit!

I climbed into the house, staggering over her stove, as I fell to the floor with a thud.

For a moment, I seized in fear, holding my breath as I gauged for a reaction. None.

Which means her son probably isn't home.

Good.

I stood back up, aligned her stove, and walked over to her bedroom confidently.

If I remember right, she hid the 2 million dollars she stole in the rafters above her bed.

Looking up at the rafter, at some 8 feet high, I realised I wasn't reaching it without support and I certainly can't afford to leave any traces behind on her bed with my dirty, dusty feet.

I knew how good her tracking skills were and I am not willing to die just yet.

Thankfully, I found a stepladder in the storeroom after a cursory check. "That's one problem solved!"

Propping up the ladder, I climbed up, pushing gently on the planks above her bed one by one, till one gave way.

Pushing it in completely, I climbed in, looking around.

In the far edge of the rafter, by a small window, lay a classic money suitcase, the kind you see in movies and tv shows. It was almost too cliche!

But then again, this was the world of a tv show, so I guess that gets a pass.

I crawled in, the rafters creaking below me, as I grabbed onto the bag, when suddenly a crack sounded out. Then another.

With a crackathoom, the rafter broke sending me tumbling onto the bed.

"Ouch!" I groaned, standing up, and pulled out a splinter from my finger.

"There goes my careful planning and execution. So much for not leaving a trace. All because of a stupid, termite ridden rafter!

Damn you american building codes! Learn to make concrete homes already dangit!" I cried, sitting down on the bed, as I came to terms with the results of my labor.

Before me, in the suitcase lay two million dollars in hundred dollar bills. And a gun, which was honestly a plus.

Now that things had come to this, I had no choice but to leave Nevada immediately.

Go somewhere far, somewhere safe. After all, it wasn't just Niki I had to worry about.

My earlier outburst at the hotel had likely alerted Lindermann.

He was no doubt waiting for me, or worse, had already sent out his agents looking for me.

The best course of action for now was to wait the storm out.

But first, I need some supplies.

Stuffing a couple bills into my pockets, I climbed back out of the window, and this time climbed over the neighbour's fence, exiting from the opposite side of the neighborhood, to avoid suspicions.

It was a good thing Las Vegas was built on a cross grid. Made it real easy to get back to main street, unnoticed.

Of course, not before hiding my stash behind a nearby dumpster.

Walking around I began to search for clothing store, when I spotted North Face showroom. Right next to a McDonald's.

Exercise and indulgence right next to each other? How american!

But also, great for me. Everything I need in one place.

Entering the North Face, to the glares of the security, I called over an employee, and stuffed a couple of 100s into her hand, ordering her in the most commanding tone I could muster.

"Get me the best pair of clothes you have and you can have the remainder as a tip."

That motivated her well enough it seems, as she returned within the minute, and dragged me over to the desired section.

Outfitting myself with a navy blue shirt, cream pants and a winter jacket, and an accompanying duffel bag, I left the shop a happy and significantly more dashing customer.

Next, I ordered myself a couple big macs, to go, before returning back to the dumpster, transferring the contents of the case into my bag.

Now, finally, I am ready to flee this shindig!

Taking out my portal gun, I put in the coordinates for Wichita, Kansas and portaled out.

It was time to tinker, in peace.