The Schemer

Joker on Jack

For an outsider, it might be hard to explain what was happening in Clara's head at the moment. He doesn't know what it feels like to risk your own life to protect others, because from his young days, under the supervision of caring parents, he had been programmed to avoid trouble. Run if can, save his own ass. For a soldier, it is somewhat different. Even when raised in the same family, under the same rules, the military changes his perception and understanding. Just like a dog, even the tiniest one, has an instinct to run after a moving object, a soldier has an urge to eliminate the potential trouble. Clara was trained as a warrior, and she had the mentality of one. It was an instinctual thing to follow. Observe and interfere if needed. 

It didn't take too long. They parked next to a bank, whilst Clara stopped at the other side of the street. Getting out, the previous guy from the sidewalk, now wearing his mask, turned around, apparently checking his surroundings. She recognized him from the wrinkly clothes and slight greenish colour of his hair. "Two's a company. Three clowns is a whole circus." The woman joked silently, killing the engine. Clara noticed the other two rushing towards the entrance, not bothering to get a scan of what was around them. Shaking her head at their foolishness, she was slowly tapping her finger on the steering wheel, not taking her steely gaze away. A few minutes passed, testing her patience. Her right hand reached towards the glove compartment, where she knew was a whole block of chocolate. Magnesium calms you down. The surgeon needed to stay calm. 

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes passed, nothing happening. Enough was enough. Stepping out, Clara walked across the street, stalking towards where the three men disappeared. Silently, she opened the door, getting inside. The entrance was located it the corner of the main area, therefore slightly hidden by a wall. Clara could see what was happening inside and stay unnoticed at the same time.

Trusting her gut feeling was something that she learned way back in Israel. Sometimes, your brain is able to pick and connect those tiny little details that wouldn't make any sense on their own. But together they do, and this is how Clara's intuition informed her of unavoidable trouble. 

She walked straight into a bank robbery, with men dressed up as clowns. Except, there were hardly any clowns anymore. She could see two laying on the ground, either dead or knocked out, the third one, with green hair, putting bags of money into a... "Bloody hell, is that a bus?" With disbelieving eyes, the woman watched him, until she noticed a movement from another man in a suit, laying on the ground. Slowly, not making any sound, when the last remaining clown turned his back to her, Clara crept behind one of the pedestals, close enough to hear the manager's shallow breathing. 

"Think you're smart, huh?" Idiot, IDIOT, shut up, you fucking IDIOT.  "Well, the guy who hired you's just do the same to you..." The clown slowly shook his head as if agreeing with Clara. Idiot. "Sure he will. Criminals in this town used to believe in things." The man, still wearing his mask, slowly made his way towards the one on the ground. "Honor. Respect. Look at you. What do you believe in, huh? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN?" The clown crouched in front of the manager, getting dangerously close.

"I believe that what doesn't kill you, simply makes you... Stranger." 

"I prefer Schopenhauer over Nietzsche."

The clown, now without his mask, froze underneath Clara's sudden choke from behind, loose enough not to strangle, but firm nevertheless. A tube of something in his hand, ready to put it in his victim's mouth, stopped midway, surprised by an unexpected attack. One arm around the clown's neck, the other on top of his head, the woman made sure to put him in a rather dangerous position. "One wrong move and I will snap your neck."

"Will ya, toots?" As predicted, he let go of the device, instead jabbing his elbows into Clara's sides, in an attempt of getting rid of her. Grunting, but satisfied that her plan worked, the woman released the clown's neck, instead thrusting her arms forward between his raised arms and ribs, trying to perform a Full Nelson. Half succeeding, Clara suddenly felt momentum weightlessness - the man threw her over his shoulder, the woman's back colliding with the floor, face-to-face with the aggressor.