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| Stolen Files (RP) | Started by: Hollywood on Sep 30, '07 21:51 |
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Hollywood suddenly stopped her pacing as she heard the floor creak outside of her office door. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to tell herself to continue breathing. It was nothing, maybe the cat, but then there was no other sound. If it were the cat there would have been more creeks in the old wood boards. Paranoia started to creep up her spinal chord and she quickly and quietly made her way to her desk. Hollywood continued to be quiet as she hunted for the folders and papers and put them in her suit case. The doorknob turned and she almost died right there. Now she knew for sure that it wasn't the cat, felines can not open doors! Hollywood was thankful of her pre-paranoia this evening, when she got home she locked her office door behind her. The door knob rattled as her intruder realized this fact also. Frazzled, she looked around the room, a small window on the west wall, a storage closet on the north and another, average size window, on the east wall. "Think girl, think." She was stuck, stuck in her office with some mad man out side her door. The door rattled a few seconds later before it just stopped and loud steps could be heard walking away from the door. Why wouldn't this person just shoot the door, did they not know she was in the room? They must have not. She wasn't stuck, if the window made a noise then they would know, but she would be long gone before they broke into the room. Hollywood creeped over to the east wall, grabbing the case she propped the window open. She felt as if she were fifteen again, sneaking out of her parents house and into the bushes, clutching her bag. Hollywood crept towards higher bushes ten feet away from the window and through a stone into the office knocking a vase on the ground. Catch me if you can wasn't her style, as she heard the crash she didn't budge, if she were to go back to headquarters with some sort of information she needed to see who her intruder was. "one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi, fou..." She whispered, counting down the seconds to the office door bursting open. Three people walked into the room, a women in a nicely put together office dress and two men. One looking rather grubby, a run boy, and another in a suit. The man in the suit had a gun and the women rifled through her desk drawers. "It's not here." The women said and slammed the top drawer shut. "She must have been here, she took all the information with her." "Are you sure it was her?" Asked the taller, well dressed man with the gun. Probably the body guard for this little outing of theres. "I saw that girl las night, she was the one who shoot Robbie in the back of his head, then she was the one that I follow home tonight. Same girl, swear on my soul." Said the run boy. Ah, so her paranoia didn't come out of no where. The womens face wrinkled up and she sneared at her company. Hollywood swore she saw steam coming from her nose. Hollywood clutched her suit case. The run boy leaned out the window and peered out at her back yard. "If she was here, she gone now. Long gone, there aint no one in this yard." The grubby man said as he turned towards the other two. He licked his thin lips and smacked his gum around in his mouth a few times before stepping out of the room. The other two followed him and she heard their car peel away from the curb. Hollywood collected herself up and bit her lip just thinking about the mess she might have just gotten herself in. Last night she had had orders to kill a man and pull some files from his bag. Now these files were causing people to break into her house. Hollywood caught the bus downtown to the headquarters to talk to her boss about all of this. It seemed to her someone wasn't giving her all the details. |
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Rhett stood in his office, staring out of the large windows at the city beyond his property. Business had kept him from sleeping and traces of sunlight had just begun to touch the concrete and steel that comprised the metropolitan. He yawned, knowing that this would likely be his only moment of peace for the next twelve hours. Grudgingly, he turned away from the view and sat down at his desk. Moments later, there was a knock at the door and Rhett glanced up to find Oliver McTavish juggling two steaming mugs of coffee and a newspaper. The two men offered the day's greeting and the room fell back into silence as they settled into their chairs with their brew. Hey, Ollie? Rhett looked over at his right hand and trusted friend who had barricaded himself behind the L.A. Times. Put down the funnies for a minute and pass me the obits. I sent some guys out on business last night and I haven't heard a word from them. He grimaced, thinking the worst. |
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| Reply by: Rhett at Oct 03, '07 18:20 | |
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After a small nod and a few mumbled words, the tall dark-haired man sat down behind his desk, carefully placing down his hot cup of coffee. He never had been a morning person, so rather than engage in pointless chit-chat with his good friend Rhett, he quickly ripped open the L.A. Times and dove within it’s contents. With little to no effort the happy-go-lucky Oliver McTavish swung his feet onto the glossy, wooden surface of his desk- his fingers quickly flipping through the multitude of printed pages. At last they stopped, a small grin playing across his lips as he settled in for his own few minutes of silence. Unlike other men his age (or status, for that matter), Ollie could not be bothered with any section of the newspaper except for one: the Funnies. Oh ho, you’re a damn riot! he chuckled to the newsprint as one particular segment struck his funny bone. He barely heard when Rhett called his name, too busy with his own self-centered thoughts and joy for business matters. This was perhaps why he slightly jolted in an upstart when he heard his friend say the word, ‘obits’. For a slight second he allowed his eyes to trail from the paper to his coffee cup, making sure he had not kicked off the desk with his flailing. Seeing it still in place, Ollie settled back into his pleasant stupor. What’s that then? He asked in a monotone, his blue eyes still lapping up every word with a twinkle of humor. Obits? Yeah, yeah… somewhere around ‘ere… His eyes still glued to the pages he allowed one hand to search out the discarded guts of his newspaper. They’re prolly in ‘ere, mate. When at last his free hand found the other sections, he sloppily tossed them over to Rhett, flashing him a cheeky grin before turning back to his paper. He would pay for that asinine move later, the man knew, but what was the harm of a little joking between friends? 'Hell, that’ll end up being the most excitin’ part of our day…' he thought with a loud sigh. |
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| Reply by: Oliver_McTavish at Oct 03, '07 21:01 | |
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Rhett gave a sarcastic smile to Oliver before bending forward to collect the scattered pages of the newspaper. After sorting them, he took a sip of his coffee and began to scan for familiar names. Nothing stuck out, but he was amused to see that a fellow that had once taken him for $10,000 in poker had "mysteriously vanished" in the California desert. Nothing there. Standing, he folded the pages of the newsprint and placed them on the desk, noticing that Oliver's coffee had spilled over the mug and had formed a ring. Oliver... He waited for the man to give some indication of awareness, but Oliver was clearly too absorbed in the comics. Sighing, Rhett knocked his friend's feet off of the surface. That did it. Fortunately, the drink wasn't spilled as Oliver got to his feet, wondering what had happened. Rhett smiled. You're making a goddamn mess. Enough with the funnies, anyway. We've got work to do. |
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| Reply by: Rhett at Oct 03, '07 21:46 | |
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Something cold stung Hollywood's cheek as she regained consciousness from sleep. The morning sun glared at her as she woke up in the bus window, pushing herself off the metal frame of the chair she had woken up in she turned to a noice from behind. Ah! I thought you were sleeping. A raggedy old women speaking, to her maybe, probably. The women and her five trash bags took up three seats across from her, Hollywood quickly checked herself over. Everything was still there, even the files. You were out for awhile sweety, thought maybe you had to many drugs. Was just thinking about bringing you to the hospital. Sure you were lady, Hollywood thought, you were probably just about to drag me off this bus and strip me from my everything in the alleyway back there. She wondered how the city didn't catch these homeless scrubs from sneaking on their buses. The morning light illuminated the city streets as her lazy morning eyes looked out. Morning! It finally clicked. That was the sun, not street lights. Damn, had she fallen asleep. Hollywood spyed over her shoulder at the women who seemed to be getting closer to her. She ended hopping off at the next stop, she was close enough to headquarters to walk, plus that woman stank! Quiet chatter came from the office as Hollywood approached the great door. She gave it a few short and harsh knocks until McTavish opened it up. She brushed past him to the desk and threw the files in front of the boss. McTavish slowly closed the door giving the boss a "what's going on look", but no one was getting answers until she had hers first. What are they? Some crazy women almost had my head last night for them. You told me it would be a quick and clean job and now.... Hollywood caught herself rageing on and stopped before she made a fool of herself. As if it couldn't be the best timing ever, her lousy night of sleep that shouldn't have happend, finally kicked in. A sharp pain struck her neck, the taste in her mouth was foul, and her hair...ugh. She sucked in a heavy gulp of air and let it out, waiting a few minutes before continuing. Sorry boss, I don't mean any disrespect, but I'd really like to know what's going on |
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| Reply by: Hollywood at Oct 04, '07 05:47 | |
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