A Series of Unfortunate Events Part 7

["By the way, my name's Jason. Looks like this is where we part. Good luck!"
While turning to lay flat, the man replies
"We'll be hearing about each other eventually, and the name's Casius... "]

2012

[whispers] "Listen, Do you hear?"

A very young girl stands at Carl's bedside. She has a light caramel complexion and has long wavy hair that flows just past her shoulders. She is dressed in a grey tank top, khaki shorts and is barefoot. The young girl stares intently at him as if she was seeing a ghost and is stricken with fear yet still very calm about it. Her hazel eyes are filled with conviction. Carl waking from deep sleep can't figure if he's dreaming or if what he is seeing and hearing is real. He slowly sits up and turns towards the girl.

Carl emits a barely audible "What?"

[Whispers] "Listen. Open your eyes. It is time to run..."

Carl being filled with confusion, "What??"
The young girl begins to back pedal away from the bed towards the window as the sounds of feet and voices are quickly coming down the hall towards Carl's room. For a moment, it seems as time had begun to slow down as he sees her motion slow slightly. Carl turns towards the door frantically as time resumes its course and looks back at the girl who has since disappeared. Hearing the feet getting nearer Carl springs from his bed. He is already wearing a well broken in pair of jeans and grabs a shirt from the back of a desk chair. He quickly digs into a drawer and grabs his wallet and a strange chain and pendant.

He can now hear all the feet coming to a stop outside of his door as he turns and quietly slips out of his open balcony window closing it behind him gently. Through the corner of the windowpane he can see what seems to be soldiers slowly creeping into his room with their guns drawn. Carl dashes across the balcony with incredible speed without making a single sound. He jumps clear over the balcony rails into the bushes surrounding the early plantation style home. He disappears into the darkness of the night.

Sergeant David Reaver stands over Carl's bed tugging at his beard while starring at the tossed sheets. The room, while well appointed is in disarray. It is not very large given the size of the house but it is large enough for Carl and his wife to coexist in it together. There is clothing piled in the far corner of the room behind the door. Across from the bed is a large manager's desk with a number of papers strewn across it. The room reflects that something has been keeping Carl very busy.

In a growly war begotten voice Sgt. Reaver notes that there has been some haste.
"He left in a hurry. Someone warned him about us. Now who could do a thing like that aside from one of his own?

He pauses momentarily and quickly scans around the room. He sees nothing more of interest.

Well then, gentlemen, burn this place to the ground."
Reaver walks out the room nodding to PFC Daniels as he exits.

"You heard the man boys, Go ahead and start here then plant charges in the basement and first floor.

Two men with backpack flame-throwers ignite their pilot flames and prepare to go to work...