where - The Manor, the kitchens
when - 18 July 2021, early morning
who - open to any (2/3)
If there was anything that was a well known fact, it was that Nadia Salem was handy with a knife. It transferred decently to a kitchen but she couldn’t say that she was happy to be relegated to canteen duties at this bizarre pseudo ‘business retreat’ that the various gangs had been conscripted to. Surely booking out a staffed venue with neutral cooking parties would have provided a more trustworthy source of sustenance. The upper ranks surely had enough funds to hire staff for a day or two.
But, she mused, making her way through the nth banana to fill a large bowl of assorted chopped fruits, the methodical rhythm of a metal blade thudding into a chopping board loud in the kitchen lit with early morning light, she did concede that she was glad to at least able to prepare most of her own meals. She was already hesitant as it was at the prospect of eating dinner prepared by the hands of others in a setting like this. Maybe she’d simply eat a larger lunch and stow away a few snacks. And at least the assignment had left her with ready access to knives. She felt quite ill at ease with not having her own strapped to her person as usual. Not for the first time the thought crossed her mind if she’d be able to get away with swiping a knife from the kitchen. The only thing that truly had her at pause was the presence of the security system affixed to the ceiling.
She flipped her blade around to the dull edge of the knife, and lifted the cutting board to scrape the pile of sliced bananas into the mixing bowl where it joined a piled of blueberries. Strawberries next, perhaps. She slide the knife through the stickers securing the top of the plastic container as she heard the slight squeak of the kitchen door swinging open. “Morning,” she said dispassionately, setting her knife down briefly to take a sip of the coffee she’d prepared for herself.
