She's danger in heels.The red dress makes her stand out like a strawberry in the sand, flowing and matting against her legs thanks to the ceiling fan's breeze. Her gloved hands are carrying that damned purse (I bought her that goddamn purse), slung over her left shoulder and close to her ample breasts. I've never really been a materialistic man but this girl has the most perfect pair of breasts I have ever laid eyes on. The dress didn't hide them well enough, despite it's "native" look. Her head was wrapped in the same red cloth and her sunglasses were large and gaudy. Her dark hair makes it seem almost like she fits in among the people behind her on the street. A single strand of it falls across her face and she brushes it away, an automatic action. One look at her walking in and I disapproved instantly. She walks with an air of authority. In this circumstance, and with me holding all the cards, it wasn't her place to do so at all. It made me want to smile. I sipped my drink to hide it.
She walks straight up to me, as if to plant a kiss. I see it in her stride. Same stride for two years. I raise my glass again and block my face with the gin, speaking through it.
"A little forward, don't you think?" I sip the gin, feeling it work it's way into my senses. I set the glass down and wait for it.
"Always cool, aren't we Sal?" It's amusing to me, that when an organization of criminals discovers my real name, it's not my real name at all. I still wait for it.
"It took Henry a little while to find you, you know. We didn't expect the gamble in Berlin honestly. Thankfully I was there to stir through your dramatics, love."
I hate when she calls me love. She has this perfectly applied Russian accent, a fake one might I add, that she knows drives me crazy. She does it a lot. She has a habit of using her tongue too much on the L in the word "love", and it throws me back to a lot more private a time, with a lot less clothing on. I mentally kick myself for losing focus.
"Anyways, enough of the old times. Henry sent me, honestly, to cut you a deal."
Read: Henry sent me to seduce you into bed, so he can deal you a knife to the throat.
She opens her purse and takes out a large roll of money. My eyebrows perk just slightly. She smiles, and next to it holds up a human finger. My eyebrows draw tighter. It's a girl's finger. It's her finger. She takes off the glove of her right hand to show me. Her fifth finger is missing, bandaged crudely. Her laughing eyes take on a sudden and terrifyingly pitiable look to them. She is about to cry.
"Turn over the plans, or Henry will kill me."
My eyes dart briefly to the window. In the corner of the window is the tip of a rifle, just a few centimeters, pointed directly at her. She's starting to lose her composure. Poor thing, it must have taken her every last drop of sanity to get through that speech without breaking the spell. Now she's got nothing left. I drink the last drop of the gimlet, my mind loose enough and just dull enough to allow me to do what happens next. I smile and nod, reaching into my coat for the carefully folded plans, but I come out with my gun. Clicking back the hammer, the gun rises swiftly and stops perfectly. She stares down the barrel, the tears starting. She looks up at me, into my cold eyes. I wink at her once, and her eyes intensify into something I can get behind. Hope.
"Brace yourself, and I apologize in advance for this."I coil my legs and spring forwards, wrapping my arms around her tightly. She's tensed her muscles for the impact, good girl. The bullet from the assailant flies through my shoulder, leaving a bloody streak and stinging like ten thousand bastards. I whip my gun sideways and squeeze off a round. The gun vanishes back through the window and I hear screams outside. I fall to the floor. She crawls over to me, the waterworks all the way on now, and grabs my coat.
"You idiot! You damn idiot do you think running will do us any good?!" she bawls.
"Nobody said I was running, babe. Now shut up and get down, I've got work to do!"
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