Sierra || Lloyd Hansen

8. Trapped

Present Day

After leaving the train station and finding your bag with various supplies, you and Court were headed to a dry cleaners listed in a notebook in the bag.

Court knocks on the door and you both stand to the side when you get to the address. Court counts through some of the cash in his hands. You hear movement inside the door and the man inside speaks in German.

"We got dry cleaning," Court states without looking at the door. You hear the man reply with 'nein' and he begins to say something else, but Court cuts him off, "We want the works. Starched, cleaned, pressed, and we want it same-day service. Can you do it or what?"

The man finally responds in English, "That's a very expensive laundry list."

Court slams a wad of cash through the open peep hole in the door. He holds up another wad of cash in front of it.

"You seem like a man who wants his shirts done right."

After all the locks are unlatched from inside, the man opens the door for the two of you and moves his sweater aside to show a gun in his waistband as a warning.

You roll your eyes impatiently, "We're in a hurry."

With that, the man leads you down a flight of stairs slowly, grasping the railing for support.

"We're also gonna have to get into a secure system," Court adds as you look around as you slowly descend the stairs.

"Sure," the man chuckles, "You really are the, uh, full buffet, aren't you?"

The man stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks at you two. Court shrugs and shakes his head slightly, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I do passports over there," the man points to the far side of the room, "And, uh, well, let's do your- let's do this thing first. You can sit. You can sit here."

You walk past where the man gestured. "Where are you going? It's... What's... What's the secure system?" you glance around a corner to look for something, anything to confirm why a knot is growing in the pit of your stomach, but find nothing. Court looks at you and you shake your head and keep looking around.

"Cormeum Electronics," Court states as the man repeats it to himself and begins typing.

"It's medical supplies," the man states before pointing over at you, "Don't- Don't touch that door."

"Yeah, we're looking for a pacemaker," Court informs him.

"I can get you a serial number."

"That's all we need."

"Name?"

"Fitzroy. Claire Fitzroy."

"This will be a minute."

"I'm getting that."

"I think you should go get yourselves cleaned up before we take your pictures," the man gestures to a small area with a sink and curtains surrounding it, "Unless bloody and beaten is the look you're going for."

Court looks unamused at the man's attempt at a joke. You grab the bag of supplies and walk over, closing the curtain behind you and seeing Court's shadow just outside to stand guard just in case. You don't tend to feel so uneasy at nothing, so you'd have to prepare for the worst.

You slip your shirt off and wash off the dried blood from yourself with a wet towel, ignoring various old scars and a burn for your father's cigarette lighter and quickly changing into a set of fresh clothes from the bag. You sigh lightly and look at yourself in the mirror as an anxious lump forms in your throat. You do your best to shake the feeling and open the curtain, letting Court head in and you hear it close behind him.