by Chewy Walrus and thedoctor
Back at the apartment complex, a three-fingered hand glided nimbly and deftly across the ceiling of the third floor of the building that made up MBL Consulting. The owner of the hand, Grissom Montag, stood upside down, his feet tightly clenched around a small light fixture, which sustained the whole of his weight.
As the Englishman's fingers skillfully felt for any fissures, cracks, or irregularities in the ceiling, he reached into his vest pocket and produced a small tape recorder. His middle finger depressed the record button as the consulting company's new security adviser began to speak.
"Structural analysis completed. Weight distribution sensors can and will be installed at earliest possible convenience. Also, a quick look will also need to be made into DNA elevator scanners, like the kind that the TriVext Corporation used when they were still in business, anything that might more easily aid in these security precautions."
Pushing his feet out from the ceiling, Grissom fell straight downward, lowering his free hand and using it to somersault onto his feet. Pressing the stop button on his recorder and pocketing it, Grissom opened up the elevator and indicated his destination: the main level.
As the elevator began to lower itself to the desired level, Grissom began to consider the irony of what he was doing. Sandcrawler Security, Grissom thought, glancing at the top of the pad he carried to jot down notes. The irony of a former mercenary installing security systems was not lost on one such as Grissom; however, after he ended his tenure as a soldier of fortune, no other job description really seemed to make sense.
He'd spent about three years of his life finding loopholes around security systems. He was one of the best there was at what he did. If he knew how to get through security systems, then he would be an obvious choice to stop others from getting past them. He had glided through lasers and dogs while avoiding being seen by security cameras. No one could pull off a heist as well as he did in his prime. Still, these days he was content to make sure that his good name remained high on the list of best mercenaries ever. He'd earned it, after all.
As the elevator doors opened, Grissom walked out and looked out the main floor windows at the rainy sky outside. "Bloody tropics!" he muttered, running his hand through his messy hair. "I thought the weather was always s'posed to be warm and sunny!"
"Bugger this!" Griss said, raising his hands in the air. "I guess that perimeter search is gonna have to wait 'til this bloody storm clears up!"
The ringing of the apartment's main doorbell chimed just as Grissom was readying himself to storm out of the room. Burying his head in his hand, Griss shuffled over to the door and opened it slowly.
"Grissom, right?" came the voice on the other side of the open door. A bit shocked to hear his name, Montag looked up, only to find the beautiful bartender from the airport smiling up at him, a small vinyl umbrella over her head.
"Right," Montag said, his patented lady-killing smile spreading across his lips. "And, I never did catch your name..."
"Jessica," the girl said, extending her hand, which Grissom caressed and kissed slightly.
"Pleased to meet you, dear," he said, raising his eyebrow. "Would you care to come in out of the rain? Perhaps I could show you my... bedroom?"
Jessica smiled slightly as Grissom led her into the apartment building, closing the door on the rainy weather outside.
The rain came down in thin sheets. Most of the storm had passed over the island by this time. Clouds began to break and allow the twinkling stars to shine down to the mortals below. "What a beautiful night," Aine commented. "The stars are so gorgeous."
I'd rather be looking at them from down here than up there, Dirk thought to himself. "So, what brings you to La Perdita?"
"Business," she replied. "Just a quick stop off before I head out to New York. What about you?"
"Pretty much the same. Except this isn't a stop-over for me. I'll be here for a while. But when I get done, I'm off to God-knows-where from here."
"Really?" she giggled. Her hair was matted to her face in little strands that ran up and down her cheek bones. Occasionally she would brush them back and out of her way. It had been her idea to walk in the rain. She didn't seem to mind, and neither did he. "And how'd you wind up with a busted leg?"
"Occupational hazard," was his only reply.
"And what occupation would that be?"
"I sell encyclopedias door to door." Yet another giggle as she pulled Dirk's coat aside to reveal his collection of weapons. "Hey, it's a dog-eat-dog world out there. A man's gotta be careful."
"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"
"Everyone else says so, yes." Once again, Dirk smiled. This was not an expression his face was used to, but it came across quite well. At least, Aine thought so. "How about you and I get out of the rain and have a drink or two?"
"Sounds like a good idea. Let's go to your place."
"Naw. My roommates are assholes. Why not go back to your pad?"
"No," she said very deliberately. "That's not a good idea, either. My dad and all." An electronic buzz went off. Aine pulled her beeper from her pocket and looked at the number on the screen. Her face became very serious. "Damn! I've got to go. Unexpected business. Maybe I'll see you around before I leave." She walked off down the alley, waving goodbye to Dirk along the way.
"I sure as hell hope so."
Dirk made his way back to the complex. It didn't seem as though anyone had made it back yet. The elevator opened on the ninth floor, and he stepped out. Good thing he had the whole floor to himself, especially since Turner ripped out the wall in one of the rooms. Dirk made a mental note to kill him for that. He took another room and went to sleep.