Taken 2

PROMPTS: organize defraud crush creepy cool doll cappuccino shoes

RANDOM DIALOGUE: "I'm not really surprised that you murdered him."

All courtesy of https://writingexercises.co.uk/random-words-exercises.php

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"I'm not really surprised that you murdered him." Camille said, watching the news channel which was discussing the car crash outside the Precinct.

Sven took a few swigs from the bottle of beer by his side " Sorry I offend you, ma'am. But Marco run and I shoot. We lucky car crash." He said in his thick Balkan accent.

"Yeah, whatever." Camille said, wishing he would stop talking. Five years in Utopia and he still couldn't speak proper English. "This took a lot of time to organize, and now everything is f*cked up. So whose turn is it to explain this to the Boss?"

"Mine." Sven said, his shoulders falling. Camille could see the fear in his eyes. The Boss didn't like failure at all.

"What about the girl?" Camille asked.

"Now that's an even bigger problem." The Boss said, entering the room.

"Bo..." Sven started.

"No need for any explanations." He cut in "I watch the news, so I knew about the crash and the fact that Marco was involved. You know, I was going to keep my cool and calmly ask for the details, but knowing the girl is gone as well changes everything."

"Boss, I do best but..."

"Oh no! And you, Camille, that's creepy. Don't stand there smiling like some stupid doll, you debrief me because I'm not about to waste my time trying to decipher what big-for-nothing over here is saying." The Boss cut in again.

"Sir, Marco tried to defraud us. He was going to offer the girl to the Black Lotus because they intended to pay him a higher price for her. We tied him down in the basement while we tried to finish negotiations, but somehow he escaped."

"Let me guess, you tied him yourself Camille because you were afraid Sven wouldn't do the job right?"

This meant trouble.

"Camille, Camille, Camille...is that Italian or Spanish or..." He said, walking towards her, the heels of his expensive shoes tapping on the marble tiles of the room.

"It's French sir"

"You know what else is French? The guillotine I want to use to chop off your head because apparently, its not working!" he almost screamed.

"I employed you as the brains. Getting new 'consignments' is your job, you know, masterminding the finer details of the mission that 'Frankenstein' here obviously can't handle. But the muscle work, like I dunno, maybe subduing a friggin' captive? That's Sven's job. As the brains, you're supposed to know that!"

Everywhere was silent.

"Well I suppose I can't blame you really. Marco is an example of a reason not to do illegal business with these Latinos, they are only loyal to the big bucks. And now, one of my consignment channels is closed. Definitely a crushing blow to my income, but that's business, I guess... So what about the girl?"

"From the information we were able to gather, it seems that she wasn't in the car when the crash occurred. Marco broke her out, but was shot by Sven while trying to make his getaway. He still managed to drop her off somewhere and was trying to get to the hospital before the crash occurred."

"And does any other person know about this?"

"No, he died instantly."

"Good. Now we need to get back that girl as quietly as possible. And fast. Marco was a weasel, but he was a cunning little piece of work. I doubt he just left her on the streets. Whoever he left the girl to must be a trusted friend or something. We find her, and we get that girl before the Black Lotus does. Understand that this mission is a code red. With Marco as the broker gone, it'll be all out war for both sides to find and keep that girl."

"It would take quite a long time to find the girl."

"I know that. That's why I'm giving you two days."

"Two days? I doubt that'll be enough, sir."

"Let me tell you a story Camille. When woke up this morning, I wanted to drink my favorite cappuccino mix. But my mug was leaking! And that's unusual, because that cup is premium quality. Do you know why?"

"I assume you'll tell me Sir..." Camille said, unsure of the direction of this story.

"You're right, I will. See, the cup is specially crafted from the skull and bones of my employees who failed me. I like it that way, because I'm into goth and some of the creepier stuff. I wanted to be the leader of my own cult when I was seven. You can relate, right?"

"I... can't... say I can..." Camille stuttered, horrified.

"Of course you can't. It's my dream after all. But let me clarify this: If I don't see that girl in the next forty-eight hours, there will be two new additions to my cappuccino mug collection. Call it a 2-for-1 special."

"Noted, Sir."

"You were always quick on the uptake. That's why I like you, Camille. Either way, you'll be of immense value to me. Whether with those good brains while alive, or with that aesthetic skull-shape when you're dead. As they say, Bonjour! That is goodbye in French, right?"

"Its 'Au Revoir', Sir."

'I'll be Adieu if my demands aren't met!" The Boss said, smiling as he took his leave.