.& a starter for @svfiya as chosen from this post ;;
3. darker thread
there’s a mournful singer out in the bar, singing like a cat caught in a bag; wearing this silky red- dress that suspiciously resembles lingerie, high red, suede shoes and stumbling as if drunk and heartbroken. jessica can see her reflection in the mirror rested against the wall near the door into the smoke filled office; her eyes flickering from the embarrassing scene back towards the table she quietly studied. her client was next to her elbow, trying to make business deals with pudgy hands gripping a black fountain pen; hearty laughs and the stench of garlic in pork buns, her stomach turns but she holds her composure.
she’s here for the information; she keeps reminding herself - tongue passing over her front teeth as she keeps an ear for the words they exchange, sllly thing, she muses, thinking it’s just a pretty face he has to watch out for. there’s cargo passing through the city later that night, and whilst jess doesn’t particularly want the stuff itself, she’s more than interested in the price that goes with being the first to sell it off - if it were to be... let’s say, stolen. the man she’d arrived with turns his head and smiles at her, making a gesture as if to complain that these things take some time.
jess just smiles back, giving a tight - restrained little pinch of pleasantry back with a little sigh against her chest. the room was decorated with thick red and gold wallpaper, the lamps gaudy gold and a crystal chandelier hung above; but a fog of cigarette smoke made the colour almost blue in the stark light. on her side, there were two body guards against the wall, herself and her client. across the little table, an executive of some family (she’d forgotten the name) and his two lackeys in tow. it was crowded enough, but the goons hadn’t the sense to check her purse for the glock she carried.
however, it seemed to be moving along quite well and despite the awful noise outside of the full bar and its singing wench; jess could feel a touch of relief knowing she’d be on her way soon enough - knowing the exact port where the ship would dock in just a few hours. the pen was placed down and both men rose to shake hands, congratulating themselves on a job well done-- but soon glass shatters over her shoulder and her client makes a strangled noise.
a gunshot--- from outside? the man she’d arrived with was clutching his chest and blood was readily spurting free; she dives to the floor and beneath the desk. another shatter of glass, another gunshot and one of the bodyguards who’d been resting behind her was clutching his shoulder. in mere moments there’s chaos, and when she glances back to the mirror - she sees another female staring back at her from the ajar doorway, wearing a dead expression.
jess pulls her gun and fires---
