Fifty-Two was standing and looking around the room while Vincent made his way up the ladder. Fifty-Two seemed to be suspicious. He was looking at everything in the room with his hand in his pocket, which Vincent assumed contained a gun. Vincent cautiously pulled himself up onto the creaky, wooden floor and knelt before standing up. Fifty-Two wasn't paying any attention to him.
"So. . .what do we do now?"
Fifty-Two paused, and turned his head slowly toward Vincent, "I'm thinking. Remember I said that there were two places where Grass could be?"
"Yeah. This place and somewhere else."
"Yes. From the moment I entered I knew that Grass wasn't in here."
"He is very allergic to dust. He hates old places and usually hides out in fresh, clean areas. That would make sense because our other option is somewhat of a futuristic building."
Vincent looked around this place. It was kind of boring. A room with lots of crates and a large bell in the middle, with the rope going through a hole in the floor.
"Wait. . .how did you know that he would be in one of these places?"
"Intercepted messages, clues; the like."
"I feel kind of stupid for asking tha-"
Vincent heard a faint rustle to the left of him. He turned around and looked at a pile of cardboard boxes, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Said Fifty-Two, turning his head around so quickly that Vincent thought his neck would have snapped.
"Something. . .moved behind those crates."
Fifty-Two kept still, "Any sign of movement is important. Stay still, though. Do not move."
Fifty-Two crept up to the wooden crates as silently as possible. He reached out his right hand and put his left hand in his pocket. He looked unsure for a second, probably wondering if his position would be the best for this moment. He swiped his hand at a crate suddenly, making more crates fall over and causing Vincent to jump.
He then cleared all the crates out of the way. There was nothing there except for a wooden, damp wall. "Should I look in the boxes?" Vincent offered.
"No. I'm the only one with a weapon here," he opened each crate cautiously and, when all five crates were opened and searched, declared that there was nothing there.
"I'm sorry," said Vincent, "I thought something moved. . ."
"And something probably did. I wouldn't be surprised; Grass might know where here. He sets up the most hidden technology. . .you probably did hear something of his, but we haven't found it."
After a brief moment of silence, Vincent asked, "What should we do now?"
"Let's see. I'm thinking."
"Okay," said Fifty-Two, "You stay here in the church. Watch for anything suspicious. Anything at all, even if it is another noise like the previous one. I am going over to the other place to apprehend Grass and destroy whatever plan he has. Do not move from this area."
"So you expect me to die up here?"
"I'll be back before then. Anything else?"
"Yeah. . .what if something goes wrong?"
"For me or you?"
"Uh. . .both of us. You know, what if Grass kidnaps you or something? What if he kidnaps me and. . .I dunno, uses me in his little plot?"
"You're right. We don't want anything to go wrong," Fifty-Two took out a radio with three buttons and a light and handed it to Vincent, "I have the other one with me. There are three buttons here. Keep it on, that's the top one. Use the lower one to talk. There is a light here, which signals an emergency. Use the button next to it to activate my light."
"Now I have to leave."
"Go on ahead."
"And stay right here. Do not follow."
Fifty-Two ran down the stairs. Vincent looked out the window and saw him running at full speed across the town.
Running Out by moriatus
Fiction » Thriller Rated: K+, English, Humor & Suspense, Words: 10k+, Favs: 3, Published: 1/17/2004 Updated: 6/24/2004}
11 Chapter 13: One Hour Eighteen Minutes and Ten Seconds