Knowledge Is Power Is Time Is Money ₪₪₪ ONE SHOTS!

Homeless Ifrit (Part 4)

The wild fire demon that is Miss Lillian Linton wrenched her arm out of my grasp and, being my merciful self, I let it go. It still looked sore even though it has been over a week since the so called 'incident'.

'I caught it in rope.' She so obviously lied, that stubborn little chin in the air. That unwavering set to her jaw that would usually drive me to slamming her against the closest hard surface and devouring her mouth with my own. But right this moment I had a very different reaction.

My hand raised of its own volition and stroked her still bruised cheek.

How could I have been foolish enough to believe such a ridiculous fallacy.

'Rope?'

'Yes.'

'Indeed.'

'I did!'

'Of course.'

'It was rope!'

'So you have said.'

'You don't believe me.'

'Did I say that?'

She didn't reply to that but from her always overly expressive face it was not hard to see her thoughts clearly printed there, as clear as the prints left by whatever bastard dared to touch her. No. I am no simpleton and she knows that.

'No matter, Mr Linton. Have that report back with any additional notes you deem essential and on my desk by lunch - Dismissed.'

She almost looked shocked under that irritated hew her features had adopted at that moment. Then exited the room quickly no doubt reigning in that ever violent nature of hers.

What did she expect? An outburst of emotion? Heartfelt embraces and condolence speeches?

Well I operate on a far more logical and efficient frequency.

Picking up the horn connected to the office of my security personnel on the level below my own I raised it to my lips, ordered Karim's presence in my office immediately and discarded it once more. I was not disappointed.

Almost immediately I perceived earth shaking stomps sounding from the stairwell and it wasn't 4 seconds later that Karim himself came charging through my office door.

'Yes, sahib? You wished to see me?'

'I thought,' I started in a wrathful tone, 'I was clear on my expectations regarding W.D. Project 4...' I let the question ask itself but when I realised I had not been clear enough in my meaning to Karim I asked anyway. 'Well? Enlighten me! What went wrong?'

Karim's big black brows pulled together and through that colossal coal coloured beard I registered pursed lips. Hmm. Interesting.

'Wrong, sahib?'

'I have reason to believe project 4 was not as success as was reported.'

'Sahib, forgive me for this contradiction but project 4 was most certainly a success. I handled it myself.'

'Your sure of this?' I demanded.

'I swear to you, sahib. The deed is done.'

There is a tell with Karim, something I never told him id noticed throughout our many years of symbiosis, from our escapades in the middle east to our ventures in the wild west, In times demanding of espionage, disguise and deceit. On those very rare occasions where Karim was required to take the lead and talk us out of a sticky situation, or two, he would clench his left hand into a tight fist repeatedly. Subconsciously displaying his discomfort with lying. A weakness displayed for anyone willing to take notice. It was a stupid habit for him to have picked up but he seems to be unaware of it apparently. I would die before I allowed myself to be read in such an obvious manner.