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Kazima's Fucking Clone
Vivi Valdez, an operative for the CIA, had a gun press tight between Nathaniel's shoulder blades as he marched into the living room. She cocked her head and smiled like an oil slick. You told me in the alley you had something terribly valuable stashed here that you'd be happy to give up if I let you live. The smug satisfaction in his tone was unmistakably Nathaniel. How long have you known what you are? Vivi asked. Kazima slumped back in the pantry with a barely stifled grunt. Fucking Christ. He really did know about the clones.