Infiltration The moon was full and it illuminated the top of Terebitha Tower well enough. The air-conditioning units and fans cast black shadows that were large enough for a man to hide in and the door to the stairwell, which had been propped open by a folding metal chair opened out and wedged in place, cast another worrying shadow. Sat on an overstuffed armchair upholstered in purple sateen was the largest woman Ricky had ever seen. The armchair must have brought up especially for her, but looking at her he could see that she would have crushed the folding metal chair effortlessly. Her thighs looked to be nearly as broad as his chest and her throat and chin merged into some mass of flesh that wobbled when she spoke. "The Milliner is waiting in the lobby," she said. There was a paper carton of take-out Chinese food on the floor near her chair with chopsticks poking out of the top of it and Ricky could smell the sweet-and-sour sauce. He licked his lips, pretending to himself that he wasn't hungry and tried to remember who the Milliner was. All the code-names gave him a headache but the woman in the chair seemed to revel in them. "He'll be your escort to the Wingate Hotel," she continued. Her hand, a pudgy paw whose fingers looked abnormally short because of the fat, groped on the other side of the chair for a large plastic cup of soda. "The Corsair will drive you there, but when you exfiltrate you'll be looking for motorbikes. The Gemini twins will take you away." She found the cup and hoisted it to her face. She sucked on the straw poking from the top, slurping while she waited to see if he would speak. "You haven't told me why we're infiltrating the Penthouse," he said between slurps. "Is there anything you need me to take away, or is this just to prove we can do it?" He knew he sounded grouchy but the hunger gnawing at his stomach was proving hard to ignore. Whatever the woman in the chair might have said he never heard. A man flung himself out of the stairwell and sprawled across the rooftop, screaming. Ricky looked at him, eyes focusing even as he tensed to move, and saw the knife sticking out of the man's throat. Reflexively he stepped backwards and crouched, disappearing into the shadow of an AC unit. He shuffled back, his eyes on the stairwell, and was half-way to the edge of the roof when gunfire erupted from it. There were flashes of light from inside, probably sparks from bullets ricocheting, and then the gunfire stopped and two more men stepped out on to the roof. Ricky reached the edge and slipped over the side into the window-cleaner's cradle. He started it moving, then rolled over the edge and hung from the bottom of it. Five seconds passed while he wondered if the intruders would get to the roof before he got to where he wanted to go and then there was an open window in front of him and he swung himself inside. As he crossed the darkened office gunfire erupted again, lacing the window-cleaner's cradle as it continued to descend.
Greg - well! This was unexpected and delightfully tense at the end there! I hope we hear more from Ricky soon, as this is rather far too exciting to leave here, in my opinion. He seems very resourceful.
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Infiltration
The moon was full and it illuminated the top of Terebitha Tower well enough. The air-conditioning units and fans cast black shadows that were large enough for a man to hide in and the door to the stairwell, which had been propped open by a folding metal chair opened out and wedged in place, cast another worrying shadow. Sat on an overstuffed armchair upholstered in purple sateen was the largest woman Ricky had ever seen. The armchair must have brought up especially for her, but looking at her he could see that she would have crushed the folding metal chair effortlessly. Her thighs looked to be nearly as broad as his chest and her throat and chin merged into some mass of flesh that wobbled when she spoke.
"The Milliner is waiting in the lobby," she said. There was a paper carton of take-out Chinese food on the floor near her chair with chopsticks poking out of the top of it and Ricky could smell the sweet-and-sour sauce. He licked his lips, pretending to himself that he wasn't hungry and tried to remember who the Milliner was. All the code-names gave him a headache but the woman in the chair seemed to revel in them.
"He'll be your escort to the Wingate Hotel," she continued. Her hand, a pudgy paw whose fingers looked abnormally short because of the fat, groped on the other side of the chair for a large plastic cup of soda. "The Corsair will drive you there, but when you exfiltrate you'll be looking for motorbikes. The Gemini twins will take you away." She found the cup and hoisted it to her face. She sucked on the straw poking from the top, slurping while she waited to see if he would speak.
"You haven't told me why we're infiltrating the Penthouse," he said between slurps. "Is there anything you need me to take away, or is this just to prove we can do it?" He knew he sounded grouchy but the hunger gnawing at his stomach was proving hard to ignore.
Whatever the woman in the chair might have said he never heard. A man flung himself out of the stairwell and sprawled across the rooftop, screaming. Ricky looked at him, eyes focusing even as he tensed to move, and saw the knife sticking out of the man's throat. Reflexively he stepped backwards and crouched, disappearing into the shadow of an AC unit. He shuffled back, his eyes on the stairwell, and was half-way to the edge of the roof when gunfire erupted from it. There were flashes of light from inside, probably sparks from bullets ricocheting, and then the gunfire stopped and two more men stepped out on to the roof.
Ricky reached the edge and slipped over the side into the window-cleaner's cradle. He started it moving, then rolled over the edge and hung from the bottom of it. Five seconds passed while he wondered if the intruders would get to the roof before he got to where he wanted to go and then there was an open window in front of him and he swung himself inside. As he crossed the darkened office gunfire erupted again, lacing the window-cleaner's cradle as it continued to descend.
Greg - well! This was unexpected and delightfully tense at the end there! I hope we hear more from Ricky soon, as this is rather far too exciting to leave here, in my opinion. He seems very resourceful.
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