Pieces of Eight {Leroco / Symphony}

[Symphony]

How long had it been now that she’d been running? Constantly looking over her shoulder; expecting some form of boogey man to jump out at her when she passed a dark alley or turned a corner. How long had it been since she’d been in touch with friends? Fear of having them become caught up in something she certainly hadn’t wanted to be a part of led her to be cautious of every move she made.

Morgan wished for the umpteenth time that she had never, ever opened that envelope on that fateful day. How was she to know that it would contain such volatile information? And how was she to know that said information would be a catalyst for the chain events that now found her in a city in which she was totally unfamiliar. She was hungry and tried, but most of all she was angry. Not just a tiny bit angry, but angry enough to bite off the head of the next person that so much as looked at her funny.
Sliding into the booth at the back of the restaurant, Morgan made sure that she was facing the door. A cursory glance around the semi-busy place didn’t ease her anxiety or calm her fears. Instinct was yelling at her to get up and move; to run! To not make it easy for them! Whoever ‘them’ was!

Plucking the menu from the holder, Morgan slid deeper into the padded and torn bench seat, cerulean colored eyes sweeping the room once again. Every now and then she’d glance at the menu, already having made her choice. The same fare all the time so as not to waste time; ice water and a chicken salad sandwich. Nothing elaborate or fancy or time consuming – the idea was to dine and dash and throw some bills on the table.

After placing the order, Morgan withdrew a small notebook and a pen. To anyone glancing in her direction, it would appear as if she were concentrating on some math problem or struggling with a word, when in truth she was making notes of the few patrons present. Once that was done, she withdrew another small notebook and compared notes. Was it a coincidence that most people, men really, preferred to wear black?

With the sandwich placed in front of her, Morgan took a bite and continued comparing notes, looking from one man to another. It didn’t matter if they were with someone or alone; Morgan paid acute attention to their attire without trying to appear too conspicuous. There were two men that met the criteria of her notes and her chewing slowed considerably. A hard swallow only to be chased by ice cold water as she put the small notebooks away and nonchalantly came to her feet. One hand reached into a pocket for some loose bills while the other set the glass on the table. As calmly as she could, for Morgan’s anxiety just sky-rocketed, she tossed a five onto the table top and made her way to the exit, holding her breath the entire time.

“Almost there,” she thought, wanting to glance around the room once more to see who, if anyone was watching her; yet at the same time daring not. With one hand on the push bar, Morgan took a chance and tossed a glance over her shoulder; eyes widened in surprise. One foot out the door and the smell of the city hit her – head still turned and looking back into the restaurant as two men were rising simultaneously. Panicked kicked in, Morgan gasped loudly and pushed harder at the door, causing her to tumble forward in a precarious manner.

Catching her balance, Morgan Knowles took off at a run and into the streets of an unknown city. This time, Morgan didn’t look back. This time she pushed herself harder than before.

 

[Leroco]

A man rested calmly in a city parking lot, fiddling with the business end of a small weapon in his pocket as he did so. It was rare he had to use such a weapon, but it had saved him in the past. Leaning back, the man glanced at his watch, it had been a few minutes since his target had entered the restaurant. She was a shorter woman, and her defensive body language told more about her than any descriptions he could have given, she knew someone was watching. A few more minutes passed as the man kept his sharp eyes on the entrance of the store, before he looked down at and tapped the face of the watch a few times. He let out a sigh, already having begun to plan his next attempt.

The restaurant doors flew open and the woman, his target, stumbled through them before sprinting down the road. The woman, whose name he had avoided when going over her information, had behaved exactly as expected. Paranoia and fear building up for the last month had finally triggered this final decision.

A smile appeared on the man's face, his normally crisp looks muddied with stubble and overgrown hair. He had gone by a large number of names in the past. His present name, Mike, suited the city environment. The car, a well built German vehicle with a fine leather interior, started quietly as the woman began sprinting down the street. The quiet engine hummed to life as she turned the corner, pushing the car into the road. Mike smiled at the woman's sprinting form, all she was doing was making his job easier.

Mike glanced at the sides of the city roads as he watched the woman sprinting down the city streets. His car, fairly well hidden among the normal evening traffic, didn't attract too much attention to him, and the woman running along the street captured the eyes of anyone keeping watch. Everything was falling into place, and the plan would go smoothly. Millions of dollars would be his in only a short time, and retirement would be sweet.

The woman was faltering, sweat visible on the back of her neck, her steps falling heavy as her will and fear stopped her from running. Still cruising along at the speed limit, Mike began to slow the car, pulling into an easy to enter parking space while preparing himself for a short sprint.

A hand held on the horn of the car was surprisingly not enough to startle the running woman, even with the horn on the car illegally increased in volume. Regardless of the small setback, Mike threw open the car door and abandoned his car, sprinting down the street towards the woman as he did. His strides were slow at first, heavy shoes deliberately pounding loudly onto the city pavement. Time was running out. The police would certainly be called at only the sight of the woman sprinting down the street.

He had just taken his first few steps, and was prepared to be at the woman's heels in moments when she glanced back at him in horror and unexpectedly turned down an alleyway. Mike let out a small curse, and his strides became longer and more efficient, his feet gliding across the pavement. Things had just gotten quite a bit more complicated, and the moment Mike had left his vehicle he had committed himself to what was to come. Silently, he hoped for a brick wall as he turned the corner as well.

 

[Symphony]

Morgan was already gasping for breath, not that she was out of shape, but because she was pushing herself. Panic was settling within, a cold blanket with no soothing affect. Her mind was racing and she was having a difficult time in believing that she was putting any worthwhile distance between her and the restaurant.

The living nightmare just wouldn't release its grip. Crooked fingers of doom chased any positive thought of escape to the dark recesses of her mind. Paying no attention to her surroundings, unusual for Morgan as she was always so careful and attentive when it came to where she was and those around her. Always keeping a distance from others; not allowing any form of conversation to ensue with strangers.
She was tired however, so very, very tired of the constant looking over the shoulder. Of leaving in the middle of the night in order to try and stay one step ahead of whoever was out there. Though she couldn't prove that there was anyone, her instincts thus far hadn't let her down. As often as her thoughts argued with reason, Morgan had been able to keep forging ahead.

A quick glance over her shoulder one more time had Morgan's eyes widening in horror, bringing to fruition the fact that this wasn't a nightmare any longer; this was real and there were such things as monsters! Pending doom seemed to grip around her that much tightly and she thought she heard the faint sound of mocking laughter. A shadow surely, but a shadow that grew in menacing stature and form. A shadow that briefly revealed dark stubble that, for some reason or other, gave Morgan a quick burst of energy, fearing that she had just looked into the eyes of evil incarnate.

She wished she knew the streets and where they would take her; she wished that there hadn't been a chain link fence at the end of the short alley as she turned the corner to get away from whoever it had been that seemed to be catching up with her. Morgan's breath hitched in a ragged manner as she pushed her body even further. Arms lifted high as fingers stretched wide to aide in gaining purchase of the links that would allow her to get to the other side.

Climbing now, daring a glance at the figure that was more than half-way to the fence when the material of her pants caught on the upper link as she was about to go over,

"FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK!!" she exclaimed, eyes widening even more, "NO!! I won't let you; I swear I won't let you!!!" Morgan screamed, hearing a loud ripping sound as she cleared the fence, but hung, suspended. One of the pockets had caught on a ragged edge of the edge, and while it was on the other side from where she had just come, she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"DAMMIT... DAMN YOU!" She wailed, praying and hoping her struggles would render the material even more, allowing her to gain distance.

 

[Leroco]

The corner turned, Mike couldn't help but let out a small laugh as the scene of the woman hanging off the fence appeared in front of him. His stature relaxed visibly, even in the darkness, as his worries faded from his mind. “I swear”, he thought as he shifted his sprint into that of a jogging pace, the woman redoubling her efforts as he grew near, “This is just too damn easy”.

With calculated eyes, Mike watched the girl do her best to pull herself down from the fence, the strong fabric of her pants resisting her efforts. With a bit more training, a bit less panic, she might have already freed herself, but instead she twisted and jerked against the fence light a frightened animal. With each step he took, the woman's voice grew more shrill as she reached the limits of her ability to scream. Her language was rather tame compared to some of the phrases thrown at Mike in his past, and the attempts to dissuade him only made his smile grow wider.

As Mike approached the fence he evaluated the snagged pocket, before he quickly pulled a compact pair of pliers from his own pocket. Pliers moving in expect motions, he quickly twisted the snagged part of the fence around the fabric of the woman's pants, ensuring they would not come loose. Ignoring the woman's continued screams, and the sounds of metal on metal as she struggled to gain leverage with her arms and legs on the weakly secured links of the chain fence, Mike placed both hands at the top of the fence and pulled himself over. His height gave him an advantage the woman had lacked and allowed him to clear it in a single, smooth, movement.

With a solid thunk of heavy boots on unkept pavement, Mike found himself on the same side of the fence as the woman. Quickly, he seized the opportunity to grab her arms and prevent most of her thrashing, holding her in the air. Words were not necessary to demoralize her, and the woman's rambling screams did not deserve response, even as she fearfully glanced at his face before resuming her attempts to rip herself down. She only felt the cold touch of his hands on her arms, the cold gaze of a killer evaluating her body.

First priority was to shut the woman up, to prevent her frightened screams from leaving the dark alleyway. Mike drew a small cloth, and a tightly wrapped roll of reinforced tape from his pockets. Quickly, his body pushing the woman against the fence to prevent her moving, he forced open the woman's mouth with his hands, and stuffed it with the dry cloth. A fast-acting chemical would be appropriate for some jobs, but the woman's reaction to such things was unknown, and she needed to be captured while alive.

With practiced motions, he furled the small roll of tape twice around the whole of the woman's head, under her long hair, finally reducing the woman's loud cursing screams into quiet muffled sounds. Her glare as her cries were silenced, eyes panicked and angry, caused Mike to chuckle again, his deep laughs echoing against the walls of the alleyway. This had always been his favorite part of any hunt. The payoff.

Finally finished wrapping the tape around the woman's mouth, Mike was ready to rip her off the fence himself, leverage allowing him to tear the fabric of the woman's pants with ease. Her slender frame clearly lacked the strength behind it to cause him too much trouble, and it was easier to tie her limbs together while she was pinned onto the ground.

However, as Mike pulled the woman down, finally ripping the pocket clean off of her pants, leaving a large hole where it once sat, the woman gave an unexpected thrashing motion, and managed to throw herself away from him. Cursing his hubris, the man jumped after the woman stumbling away from him, a large, unfortunately deep, scratch visible on one of her legs.

In the distance, police sirens sounded, growing closer.

 

[Symphony]

It was the curse, wasn't it? The fact that this particular program had been named after coins of so long ago, that the spirits of the pirates were coming back to haunt her. It didn't matter that technology was that far advanced and it certainly didn't matter that she didn't believe in ghosts or spirits. The precarious situation in which she now found herself she blamed on the package. The little flash-drive that contained a Pandora's Box of information.

And how the hell did they find her? How the hell did they know it was her that was even carrying it? Who were these people?!!

Morgan's mind screamed in such chaos that the echo of each phrase reverberated within her head. Her voice had become shrill when the man produced a pair of pliers. Her movements in an attempt to get away and off the fence doubled, and then tripled, when he cleared the fence. Eyes widening in abject terror, the need for flight became so overpowering that she began thrashing her arms and legs, hoping against hope that the toe of her boot or even a fisted hand would connect with him, giving him a painful reminder that she wasn't going to go quietly.

In spite of the few and far between connections she was able to make in striking him, the man seemed not to notice. When she caught a brief, but forever burned in memory, glimpse of his face, the only thing that came to mind was dark thoughts; evil and wicked thoughts. Thoughts so decadent that Morgan winced, redoubling her efforts to free herself of the fence. When the man pushed his bulk onto her own small frame, she was about to scream when she noticed that he had produced a piece of cloth and tape.

Morgan clenched her teeth so tight that her jaw began to hurt. Blue eyes glared at the man as she began to shake her head back and forth until he pushed his body a bit more into her own while his free hand began prying open her mouth. Eventually he won, ensuring the cloth remained in place by wrapping the tape around her head. She again began cursing at him, and though her words were muffled, she was more than confident that he understood. Didn't she just hear him chuckle? And didn't he give her a mocking smile with that chuckle? Bastard, she thought, I'll get even with you for this...

Visibly shaking, thinking the worse and imagining that this was the end of her life as she knew it, Morgan was surprise when the man began pulling her free and down from the fence. The rendering of fabric could be heard, and the pocket that had been ripped earlier was now complexly separated from her pants, a clean notebook, and fillable lead for her pencil, a few erasers and loose change when flying to the ground. A brief moment passed until Morgan realized that she was no longer attached to the fence and with a surge of adrenaline, she jumped within the man's grasp, causing him to throw her away from him. However, rather than toss her in the direction of the open alley, he had tossed her into the fence.

A burning sensation from just below the back of her knee to her upper thigh was felt and Morgan's muffled scream went unheard. She could feel liquid moving down her leg, turned her head to see the man jump forward and after her. The fence had acted as a make-shift trampoline and once she had connected with it, Morgan had been able to thrust her body at an angle and away from him. She could hear the sound of sirens drawing close, and Morgan knew it was now or never to make an effort to get away, not just from this man, but from the local authorities as well. She wasn't in the mood to answer questions from them.

Taking a chance, Morgan reluctantly turned her back to the man and began a hobbling-run away from him. She could see the blue and red flashing lights as the police were almost there, and just as Morgan was about to turn the corner in the opposite direction, the sound of more mocking laughter was heard; and the sound was too close for Morgan's comfort.

 

[Leroco]

Mark cursed again as he took into a sprint after the stumbling woman. One large stride. The woman found her pace as well, making fast progress down the alley. Two strides. The woman's body was alight with light from the street, nearly at the end. Three more strides, and Mark realized he was in the clear, and laughed again as the woman slowly stumbled away from him. With a smooth motion, Mark's entire body weight came down on the woman's legs in a tackle, forcing her onto the ground.

He had been in a situation like this only once before in his career, when he had been foolish and without a plan. It was unlike him to be in the situation he found himself in, cowering in an alley as police raced back and forth across the streets. That, at least, had been in a third world nation, where the police were easily threatened with a weapon and a hefty bribe.

Flashing colors could be seen on the sides of the alley, the police were close by, and it wouldn't be long for them to narrow down on his position. Quickly, Mark pulled himself atop the woman, his weight forcing her to stay pinned to the ground as she slowly recovered from the shock of her fall. With strong arms he forced the woman's arms behind her back, and with the benefit of leverage managed to hold them in place while he wrapped them in a layer of tape.

Her arms restrained, and still pinned under his weight, Mark noticed that the woman's efforts to get away were increasing. Carefully, to ensure no repeats of previous events, he moved to the woman's legs, and hastily wrapped them a few times with tape. With a small groan of exhaustion, he pulled his bodyweight off the fully restrained woman, observing her from a close distance for the first time.

She was clearly a woman who had spent quite some time on the run, but had the civilities and decencies of a person used to a comfortable life in the suburbs. She was small in stature, but her attitude seemed to make up for it to the casual observer. She appeared smaller than she once had as she struggled against the tape holding her still on the ground. Her hair, although quite disturbed by recent events, showed signs of bare-bones care applied to it, likely with the use of hotel room supplies. Her clothing was ripped in numerous places, and the large gash on her leg would have to be taken care of once he had a moment to think.

Mark leaned down next to the newly restrained woman, flipping her onto her back and reaching into her pocket. "You've caused me a lot of trouble, you know that?" He said quietly in her ear, his voice somewhere between exhausted and venomous.

Hands used to manipulating fine objects were fast to withdraw the entire content's of the woman's pocket. Wallet, pen, and a notebook full of writings which he lacked time to read. Other materials were held within his grasp, however he lacked the time to study them in any detail. He shoved the contents into his own pocket and leaned down next to the woman.

Slowly, and avoiding any possibility of being smacked in the head, Mark lifted the woman in his arms, one arm around her shoulders while the other restrained her legs. Slowly, he backed into the alleyway he had come from, listening as the police sirens passed the other way, lights reflecting down the dark alleyway once again.

Well hidden in the shadows, Mark calculated his possible escape routes. The police would be coming down the alleyway at any moment, and he had to escape before they caught sight of him, a chase would mean almost certain death.

It would be easy to drop the woman and walk away, but something held Mark back from that option. Money, he told himself as he evaluated the situation further, keep your eye on the money.

Finally, Mark spotted an exit. A door which had appeared sturdy at first, but whose frame had been neglected over the years, developing a series of cracks and fractures that signified a lack of structural integrity.

With a solid kick, the door came down with a booming sound that echoed through the alleyway and into the streets. If anyone was around to hear, they would be arriving in moments. Rapidly, and ignoring the muffled protests while doing his best to keep the woman in his arms still, Mark ran into the building, passing through hallways and shabby offices before he emerged in a nearby street, not too far from his car.

Quickly, Mark walked over to the still open door, noting that the few things that had been left in the vehicle had already been stolen, and quickly tossed the woman into the passenger seat. Making sure to buckle both the passenger and driver's seatbelts before turning the car on and heading down the road, looking over his shoulder for any police that could have spotted him.