22:15
The office was bare. Empty.
As it was whenever Vivienne happened to visit. Yet, she heard rumours that Churchael's founder was quite the disorganized man. She shrugged, whichever was the truth of him, she didn't care enough to find out.
"Mister Ford?" called Harley, stepping towards the large, rectangular desk. It's surface shone, glistening as newly polished glass.
"Ah, mademoiselle Chesterfel!" came the delighted greeting from behind them.
Vivienne didn't turn, and waited until Ford had gotten to his desk. "I take it you orchestrated this silly game for no purpose?"
"Oh, no, no, no. There is a purpose for everything my dear," he smiled as he took a seat. "Everything I do, at least, has some purpose or reason."
"I see, well," she seated herself in one of the chic leather chairs, "what do you need of me this time around, Phillip?" Vivienne crossed her legs, and folded the handkerchief in the palm of her hand.
Ford's smile widened and he turned to look out the grand window that encompassed the entire wall opposite the door. "I need a different job out of you, now, my dear friend."
"Don't call me your friend, Phil. There's no such friendship. I'm only doing this for the money and out of the usual boredom."
"Ah yes, you do always do such rash things when you've been afflicted with this disease of boredom, don't you?" Ford leaned back in his chair as he steepled his fingers, appearing to enjoy himself.
Vivienne sighed, “Just tell me, Phil. What do you want of me this time?”
“I don’t want anything of you in particular, I just want Vector. You know that. I want your organization to be my own,” he smiled, spinning back around.
The darkness beyond the window appeared to surround Ford quite nicely, as he watched her with his calculating gaze. “And just how many times do you need me to tell you that Vector A will never be yours? Do I have to carve it into your flesh?” Vivienne glanced over at Harley who’d stepped back from the both of them.
“Yes, well, in that case I’ve some different jobs that I need you to take care of,” he said at last, rising from his chair and picking up a thick file folder. “It’s just a bit different, but I’m sure you’ll be able to get it done regardless.”
Suspicion arose within her, and she held out her hand, accepting the folder and flipping it open. A surprisingly normal document appeared atop the stack, a clipping of a photo on the top right corner. “What is this? What job are you requesting?”
Phillip A. Ford glanced over at Harley, before looking back at her with a smile.
“It’s simple. These people? I want you to assassinate them.”
CITEȘTI
Eloquently Murdered
Ficțiune științifico-fantasticăVivienne Chesterfel, codenamed Red, is an ex-detective turned Dealer. After six years of dealing anything, ranging from drugs to weapons, Vivienne has grown bored of the cycle of buy, sell and reap. What she wants now is some excitement. When she d...
