A Continuing Farce Pt. 3
The return ritual took all of a minute, and dropped her in the pale beige “Reorientation Room” with a standard claimant package. Shuffling through the papers as she unlocked her office, she failed to see the two seated in front of her desk until she had made her way around. A gasp and a start sent the stack of papers spilling on to the white ink-stained surface. The resultant smack seemed to shock the man to left awake, sending him shuffling for something in his jacket, while the woman on the right merely turned her head and greeted Stephanie with a small smile and nod.
“Just ... just gimme a sec with this. Jet lag ya know...“ the mans voice was gravel worn to course sand with constant use and he appeared to be trying to dig through his own jacket in a desperate search. The woman shook her head in exasperation and smoothed her kimono “Mrs. Akantha we’re sorry to surprise you...”
“No. No,no,no.”
“Ex-excuse me?” What was that look of fear?
“Anyone who breaks into my office is not sorry to surprise me. Anyone waiting in my office whom I don’t know obviously wants something, and normally I’d be happy to oblige. But I’ve had an eventful day, so please make an appointment the usual way on your way out.”
Any hint of emotion on her face faded gracefully behind a managerial smile as she leaned back into her chair while Stephanie huffily seated herself and began to attempt to reorganize what was quickly become a non-Euclidian form of paperwork. What is this; a DD-215, a Voynich Actuary Table, and ... FEMA-DR? I need to get these people out of here
As she looked up, she noticed with considerable aggravation that not only had neither of her guests moved, but the man had finally excavated a flask from somewhere and was quickly draining it with his index finger outstretched. A gaudy string-tie complimented a lackluster shave and square opaque sunglasses that seemed to say “I could not be bothered to fully impersonate a government agent”Judging by the smell coming of his clothes the flask contained a recurring breakfast theme, but under that was ... Blood, probably recently spilled. And bile?
Finally done with his libation the man rocked forward and focused on something approximating Stephanie’s general area. Words began to pour from him in a mounting rush “Now, now Steph. Nobody’s trying to pull one over on you. As a matter-of-fact, we’re hear to help you, Lisa and I. Your not a bad sort and, let’s face it, noone is perfect, but you really screwed the pooch this thyme around!” Laughing and shaking his head like someone beset by midges, he stood and began to circle the room with his voice mounting in volume “ Ya got yourself all wrapped up in some good ol American VENGENCE and plum forgot that some things are best left un-fucked-with. Now that you’ve pulled that thread the hole ball’s unraveling and nobodies happy about that. Luckily for you we’re here to dissect the danger, dispose of the hardship, and make off with that sweet, golden opportunity! Now, drop the cellulose shackles and steady yourself to set sail with us salty survivor types...” He’d finally wheeled round the room and steadied himself on the desk facing Lisa, who was looking at him with a mix of exasperation and fear. He cocked his head towards Stephanie and she saw worn and tired blue-grey eyes peeking at the edge of the shades “Cuz the vamps are coming down here for a chat with you Mrs. Akantha, and ain’t anyone gonna be pleased when they get done here.“