The Badlands

Chapter Two

The night was humid, as always in this shithole they called a town. It wouldn't be a problem, but it would make things just a tiny bit more uncomfortable for everyone involved.
Urig stood next to her, still as a granite statue. The only sounds were his breathing and the sarcastic remarks of the gunwoman beside him. Most of said sarcastic remarks are a bit too graphic for this storyline.
The antique shop had been closed for about an hour when the team finally made a move. A pair of bolt cutters and the snap of a chain later they were in the antique shop, having strode right through the front doors.
"Creepy," AA whispered to herself as they passed an array of grimy dolls. The shelves of this place were filled with little odds and ends. Most no one payed any mind to as they were basically useless.
    Urig examined the lock on the door that led to the basement. That was where the owner kept the more valuable merchandise. The plan was to hit it and leave. In and out. Tonight, however, there would be a small hiccup.
    After the balding brute picked the lock on the door, the pair strode into the stairwell. AA unzipped her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. It wasn't the best piece of equipment in the world, but it got the job done.
    Dust swirled in the light of the phone. AA swiveled the light from left to right, trying to find some kind of light fixture that she could turn on. After about five minutes with no avail, she gave up and went on to the task at hand. Two objectives were to be fulfilled tonight: Urig dead in a pool of his own blood and a beautiful sword stolen away into the night. Both would be fairly quick and easy.
    The silent man stalked around the corner and motioned for AA to come to him. He had found the target.
    The safe they were targeting was said to be uncrackable. It was said to hold so much cash you could buy the Boudelare mansion and still have enough to support your children's grandchildren. AA didn't believe one word of that theory, but it seemed that her companion did. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to finish off the objective at hand.
   "Head and right hand," AA muttered to herself. The plan was to shoot both at the same time, no questions asked. That would give Urig no time to fight back and enough time for her to come up with a fantastic punchline. One that would amaze the imaginary audience waiting in the wings.
    The woman pulled her twin pistols out of the holsters hidden beneath her jacket and cleared her throat. She found herself feeling melancholy. It became clear that she would miss her partner in crime. In this business, friends didn't come easy. AA said a silent goodbye and aimed her guns.