A Little Help

1 - Not How I Do Things

Chapter One: Not How I Do Things

It didn't take long to get inside. No one really expects you to come in through the roof. My feet land on the floor making more noise than I would have liked, I run straight behind the nearest thing to hide. Breathing? No noise. My shadow? None. I allow my train of thought to concentrate more on my surroundings. I take my time to realize that what I'm crouched behind is a crate. In the middle of the room? It's convenient so I don't question its placement, or what it could contain.

I hear voices coming from in front of me. I dart around to the other side of the wooden box, carful that my now existing shadow doesn't go over the edge. I knew my landing had been too loud, but how could I have known I would be so clumsy? I feel my own eyes widen at the many crates before me. Why are all these here? Why didn't I know about them? I am reminded of my guests as their conversation grows louder. I need to go the way they just came. I wait until they are right about to pass my box. Wait for it... wait fo-... wait. They stopped moving.

I had hoped to go around my box the opposite way they would have passed it, as to slip away unseen. I feel the urge to just pop out from behind my mystery box and kill them. They're close enough that I could before they would react. It would make things easy. But I couldn't, I am not allowed.

Their talk continues and it seems it's not going to end any time soon. I need to get around them. I get bored of thinking of ways to avoid them; this isn't how I do things. I pull out my knife and count to three inside my head. One. He's not going to be happy. Two. It's not like he would really expect me to do this without killing. Three. I jump out from behind my crate only to see two men, presumably the ones who were conversing, walking away towards the only door in the room. They suddenly stop, and so does my heart momentarily. Damn... shadow.

They turn, connecting my shadow straight up to myself. Of all the ways to handle the situation -- all the ways -- it went one of the worst ways it could. They see me, and they are also not dead. The one on the left, Mr. Short black hair and brown eyes, decides to pull the gun from his hip. I turn and run straight into the mess of boxes that had magically appeared over the span of, at most, four hours. I hear them chase me, and thinking ahead, I decide to climb a stack of the things. I hear them approach and I start running through my stealth check list mentally. Breathing? A little. Shadow? I look over to find my shadow casts over the nearby boxes, as long as they are as close as they sound, they shouldn't see it. Mr. Left comes right beside the pile I hide on, I don't know where Mr. Right is, but I can't stay up here forever. I take the risk and jump down behind Mr. Left as silently as I can... not a sound.

Mr. Right could be here any moment so I don't waste any time. I drive my knife straight through Mr. Left's neck, again no noise. I pull out and lay him on the floor silently. He will be dead in seconds and instead of fighting my grip like they normally do, he looks me in the eyes. I watch as his brown seems to become dull and, well, lifeless. They move to stare over my shoulder and to the roof above us. I follow his line of sight and see the starry night through the very skylight that had given me away via shadow.

My attention is dragged back into reality as I hear Mr. Right call for his conversation pal. I ignore the name he calls Mr. Left, I prefer to give people my own names. For the record he calls out Jason, but what sounds more interesting? Jason? Or Mr. Short black hair and brown eyes a.k.a. Mr. Left? That is what I thought.

I silently rush to where I heard Mr. Right call out for his now dead... friend maybe? I wonder what Mr. Left was to Mr. Right; they certainly had a lot to talk about. A friend, business associates, doesn't matter much because their story will end with me. I find him standing by my old hidey crate; he must not have wanted to follow Mr. Short black hair and brown eyes into the maze of boxes, understandably so since I killed him so easily there.

I run to another cluster of boxes to the left of me. I know Mr. Right saw me because I hear him also draw his gun. I peer around the corner ever so slightly to see him with his gun raised and moving it back and forth between the boxes on the left of him and the ones to his right. He just saw me run to the ones on his right; maybe he thinks I'm Mr. Left? I withdraw my previous thought because he really looks like he has seen a ghost. It's nice to have that effect on people.

Now that I'm away from that kill-blocker of a skylight I can advance on Mr. Right using the cover of shadows. I get all the way behind him and have time to stand behind him. He is still looking at the crates like one of them is going to come alive. I have so much time that I actually look at his neck and plan on where to stab him. I raise my knife and align it with a freckle. Mr. Right, still oblivious to his murder, has no chance. I kind of feel sorry for him, just for a second, before I'm repeating what I did with Mr. Left, only Mr. Right behaves normally and tries to resist me like all the others. Once he has been laid quietly on the floor I run to the door that had been far too much trouble to reach.

This place isn't very big; all I need to do is get to a computer. The room I walk into is mainly in the dark only lit by, how convenient, computer screens. I remember from scoping this place out that this is the office-y area. I didn't really pay too much attention; this place is quite boring during the day which makes it hard to pay attention. Plus I wasn't the one supposed to be doing this, but I am, so I'll deal.

I go over to a computer, carful to make no noise. I don't know how many security guards this place has but I'd like to only have to deal with the two I've already been acquainted with. Once at the nearest desktop I unplug the speakers as to ensure the silence is kept unbroken. I pull out a piece of paper from my pocket and read Username: padam81 Password: firetree11. I enter the info and login as Peggy Adam. Well that explains the username. I find the list of all recent customers and transfer it to my flash drive. What could she possibly need with this? It doesn't matter, we get what she asks and we get one step closer to the answers.

I logout and return to the room full of boxes that I swear were not there some four hours ago when I was last here scouting. Curiosity gets the better of me and I use my knife to titter-totter, I love that word it just sounds funny, the top of the box off. Inside is a bunch of bubble wrap wrapped around discs. I pick one up and remove the bubble wrap. It is an unmarked disc in a blank cd case. I pocket it and put the top of the crate back kind of pushing on it to reseal it. I'm sure no one will notice one disc missing, especially with the dead body not five feet from the box. I climb up and out the roof the same way I entered.

I return to the hotel we're staying at and relax on one of the two beds. It doesn't seem like he is back from whatever was so important that he left me to do his work. He is not going to be happy about the two dead guards but hey, if he wanted this to be done his way, maybe, just maybe, he should have done it like he was supposed to in the first place.

I hide the flash drive in my left shoe and put the mystery disc on the nightstand. I was itching to see what was on it but I was also tired and angry. I decided to just go to bed and I'll check out the spoils in the morning. God I hope he had a good reason for ditching on the mission at the last second, I'm supposed to be the reckless one.