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Pursuit; Open! Anyone can come across this!
Topic Started: 19 Feb 2010, 09:13 PM (813 Views)
Lord Cutler Beckett
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Able Seaman
[ * ]
Myles struggled to regain his balance as he once more slipped on the damp roof tile of the blacksmith's building. Barely had he recovered his footing for the third time when another bullet soared past his ear with a deafening crack, keeping the lean-faced twenty-two year old fully aware of the grim-faced clerk that was pursuing him across the rooftops of Port Royal. Mercer, ever persistent in the chase, was fast closing the distance between the two of them, and Myles knew that even if he continued to outrun the older man, it was only a matter of time before the denizens of the town ceased providing him with a roof under his feet.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Myles barely hesitated before leaping blindly from one roof to the other, Mercer never far behind him as the two continued their rooftop pursuit under the dim glaze of the Caribbean moon. The rain from the storm the night before had yet to fully dry, and every now and then one or the other would trip up and scurry to compose themselves again lest they fall and almost certainly perish with a sickening crunch on the cobbled street below. With the night's shadows keeping him ignorant of any more than the two rooftops in front of him, Myles began to fear that he was rapidly reaching the end of his life; whether it be by the sudden drop or Mercer's aim.

In one hand he still grasped the papers that he had stolen from Lord Cutler Beckett himself's own offices, and in the other he held the spent pistol that he had discharged in a panic when Mercer had first stormed in on him mid-theft. In a brief moment of clarity between diving off the edge of the baker's shop and onto ledgings of the town bank, Myles reflected on how this was far beyond what he had agreed to do for his employers - running for his life from a man that many considered amongst the deadliest in Port Royal was not part of the original mandate. Barely had he landed on the ledgings and begun hurrying across another rooftop, when Myles was suddenly hurled to the ground by something catching on his leg.

He never did see what it was that he had tripped on, but the matter was a moot one as the young man hurtled off the edge of the building, seemingly doomed to a death on the cobbles below. However, by a stroke of pure luck, Myles was able to grab onto the ledge as he fell, and soon found himself hanging off the edge of the bank - alive if not entirely healthy. Unfortunately for him, however, his luck was not to last the rest of the night. Even as he managed a single coherent thought on how lucky his grab for life had been, the face of certain death appeared above - glaring down with a deadly gaze that spoke only of the young man's imminent demise.

"Mercer..." Myles managed to utter, desperation replacing the adrenaline-fuelled energy of before, "Mercer please! Help me!"

"The papers." The clerk muttered, apparently uninterested either way.

In a move that surprised himself, Myles did not reach up to hand the documents over; he knew enough to know that they were important enough for Mercer to leave him to die as soon as he had them back in his possession. So what could he do? If he gave the documents to the clerk, he would die. If he held onto them, he would die. Risking a glance downwards, Myles tried to weigh up his options. The distance from the bank ledge to the street below was shorter than most of the other buildings. In fact, he reasoned, the fall might not kill him...

Mercer seemed to realise what Myles was thinking a second too late, as he lunged down to grab the younger man an instant after his quarry let go of the ledge and plummeted towards the street below.

A loud crunch echoed through the street as Myles landed feet-first on the road.

The pained screams of a man in agony soon followed.

***

Mercer glared down at the man who now lay crippled on the cobbled street below, groaning and crying in agonising pain. He might even be dead by the time he reached him, the clerk mused, before silently moving into the shadows on the rooftop and looking for the quickest - and safest - way down to the street below, content that he had accomplished his mission of stopping the man's escape.

***

Between his teary blurred vision, Myles could just make out the figure of Mercer disappearing from the edge of the bank's roof, and knew that it would only be a matter of minutes before the clerk found a way down to him to finish the job and recover that which he had stolen. He knew that the time for him to get the papers to a relatively safer place was running out - he had to find some way of getting them to the right people before Mercer re-arrived on the scene took possession of them again.

Forcing himself despite the excruciating pain, Myles dragged himself along the street looking for someone - anyone - but soon gave up and returned to screaming as the agony became too much. Footsteps informed the man that his doomed approached, and he tried to compose himself as well as he could as he prepared to face Mercer with as much dignity as he could muster. He opened his eyes wide and turned on his side to face the clerk, only to be surprised by what he saw.

It wasn't Mercer now standing over him.

OOC: So yes! Any character want to take a risk and get involved with this?
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Sally Fisher
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Mate
[ * ]
Sally Fisher looked down at the man lying in the street and shook her head, clucking her tongue.

"What the devil are ye doin' down there and making all that racket for? If you've come to see Johnny, he ain't home yet. Probably down't pub drinkin' his livelihood away like you been doin'," she muttered as an afterthought. "I thought you was him come home, but no! It's just another of his drunk and good-for-nothin' mates. Ain't you got nothin' else better for to do of an evening but to disturb honest folks as are tryin' to sleep? For shame."

And with the conclusion of this speech, she turned with a flounce to leave him where he lay. "Go home, ye miserable sot," she said as a parting word of advice.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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[ * ]
As the pain began to threaten to seize Myles and drag him into the depths of unconsciousness, the twenty-something young man couldn't quite figure out what the women standing above him was saying...something about some man named Johnny? Either way, the point of her statement was made clear when she turned to leave him in the street again.

"Go home, ye miserable sot,"


"Wait!" Myles cried out, wincing as soon as he did so, having jerked suddenly to reach out to the woman, "Please don't go! You have to help me!"

Every second wasted brought Mercer another step closer to them, and Myles knew that he couldn't afford to offer the woman - some innocent passer-by who he was about to draw into a series of events possibly beyond her comprehension or ability - a full explanation, but it was imperative that his inevitable death was not in vain. He had seen what was printed on the documents he had stolen from the Company offices. He knew that someone had to get them away and to the right people.

"Please! Take this!" He called out to her, thrusting the crumpled sheaf of papers in her direction, "Take this and bring it to the governor! Or the Navy!"

As the pain continued to throb and his mind became less and less coherent, Myles could only hope that she listened to him.

So much rests on this...
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Sally Fisher
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Mate
[ * ]
"Wait!" the man shouted, "Please don't go! You have to help me!"

"Oh aye? Wife chucked you out, did she?" Sally muttered, turning back to give him a sardonic smirk in the dark. She watched as he fumbled with something.

"Please! Take this!" he said, holding out a handful of paper. Was it money? That certainly caught her attention... but of all the cheeky sods! Did he think she was a whore? But - who offered a whore whole handfuls of banknotes? She drew closer, taking the papers automatically. "Take this and bring it to the governor! Or the Navy!"

"The governor or the navy?" she repeated, scoffing incredulously. "What do you take me for? I ain't your bleedin' messenger." Her tone softened slightly. "Look now. What you need is a nice rest in your own bed, and tomorrow you can take 'em yerself to the governor, or the king, or the sultan of Persia for all I care. Eh? Eh?" When he did not respond immediately, she thought he had finally passed out in a drunken stupor. She decided to put the papers inside his coat for safekeeping, and that was when she realized that he was not drunk. "Hey! Hey there! Wake up mate! You done hurt yourself? You been robbed or sommat? Look at the state of you...!"
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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[ * ]
Mercer hit the softer ground of the back-alley with a squelch loud enough to disturb the two fumbling bodies who had pressed themselves against the wall. With a cry of surprise, one of them - a marine by the looks of it - practically threw himself away from his companion, picked up the musket that was leaning against the wall of the bank, and scarpered into the street; no doubt to return to the sentry duty he was supposed to be attending to anyway. The second body - an unmistakeable lady of the night - stepped out of the shadows with a less-than-intimidated composure.

"Oi!" she screeched after the marine, as the clerk made to pass her and leave the alleyway, "Bleedin' beggar di'n't pay up"

Mercer had little reason or inclination to care, and passed her unperturbed; his mind solely on getting back to the street in front of the bank and finding the thief. The lady in the bedraggled scarlet dress seemed to have other ideas, however.

"You! You scared 'im off, you did! You 'ave to pay up!" she nagged after the clerk, "Oi, I'm talkin' to you! I said you 'ave to---"

A sharp spinning backhand swipe from the grizzly Mercer soon cut the woman's nagging to a halt and sent her sprawling into the mud with a whimper. Mercer had no patience for 'ladies' of such a profession. He had a mission to tend to.

***

"Hey! Hey there! Wake up mate! You done hurt yourself? You been robbed or sommat? Look at the state of you...!"


Myles was barely holding on to consciousness at this point, and could only manage a few mumbled phrases here and there to forewarn the woman now attempting to nurse him as opposed to abuse him with the cold-hearted words from before,

"Stay away...from...man with...scars...must take...to the Navy..." Was all he could manage.

***

Mercer practically stormed out of the shadows before instinctively withdrawing back into the stealth they provided; he had not expected someone to have discovered Myles before he had a chance to 'resolve' the problem he posed. As Mercer watched, he saw a woman - one of the lower classes, of course - kneeling over the body of the thief. Was he dead? Mercer couldn't tell from this distance. Either way, he had a job to do.

Adopting his usual businesslike composure, the clerk stepped out of the shadows and walked slowly towards the pair in the middle of the cobbled street, his slow but heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

***

Myles heard the footsteps resonating in his ears like drumbeats as he turned his head and saw Mercer approaching slowly. Sudden fear overwhelming his body's demands to close down, Myles made a final push to thrust the papers into the woman's hands, before falling unconscious completely as a single word escaped his lips,

"Run."
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Noah Rand
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Deckhand
[ * ]
New dresses always seemed to hang uncomfortably, she thought, and hitched up her skirts to keep from dragging through puddles. It rained far too often in the West Indies. Why did she insist on staying in such a dreadful place? Noelle paused briefly to fuss over the fit of her hat, then continued on down the street at her usual sedate pace.

The recent storm had cleared the streets of most of the usual evening crowds, but a few small, determined knots of people were about despite the humid damp. She passed along largely unnoticed, until a turn down an adjacent street brought her squarely on the scene of something unpleasant. Was that a man lying in a tangled heap there? Most likely just another sailor who'd over-indulged while on his leave, but that didn't account for the feeling of tension in the air. A dispute of some kind?

"Goodness," she said blithely.
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
"Stay away...from...man with...scars...must take...to the Navy..." the young man said. Sally had to lean forward to hear his words. A man with scars? That was rather vague, wasn't it? She did not have time to ponder the identity of the scarred personage, however, because a man appeared around the corner and began walking toward them. Her injured ward seemed to use the last of his strength to turn and look at the man before telling her with startling urgency, "Run."

Sally did not wait to be told twice. Without knowing exactly why she was running, she hitched up her skirts and darted off with a squeak, the papers still unconsciously clutched in her hands. She could not return to her own front door for that would mean running directly toward the man, whoever he was. Instead she planned to run around the row of shops and cottages to the back entrance through their little yard. Her brother was not home, and she would certainly not summon the boys if there might be trouble. If she could just get inside her own house, she could lock the door and she would be safe.

She was so intent on this plan that she did not even notice a young woman in her path until she nearly collided with her. "Oh! Missy, don't go down there! He'll murder us all!" she gasped and continued running.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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[ * ]
Mercer watched as the woman hitched up her skirts and scurried off down the street, apparently frightened by his approach. Maybe she thought he would associate her with Myles' unfortunate accident; that suited the clerk just fine. If some silly woman thought she was in the frame for murder, then she would stay quiet. All he had to do was get the papers back, make sure Myles wouldn't be speaking to any more people, and then retreat back to the Company dockyard. Simple enough.

When he reached the thief, he nudged the unconscious man roughly in the ribs with his booted foot. Myles groaned aloud in pain as the shot of agony roused him, but this pained look was suddenly filled with one of fear, and then surprisingly, smugness. Mercer ignored this - though it did ring a few alarm bells - as he kneeled down and quickly searched Myles' pockets. No sign of the documents. Those alarms bells were now ringing loudly in the clerk's mind.

"Where are they?" he demanded of the thief as - still kneeling down next to him - Mercer reached into his coat and drew a slim-looking knife.

"I don't...know what you're...talking about..." Myles managed with a smirk, before coughing loudly.

It didn't take very long for the pieces to fall into place. The woman who had been with Myles only seconds before...he had to find her. Was she an accomplice? Or just a passer-by who had fallen into Myles' last-ditch attempt to elude the Company? It mattered little, the clerk mused, they were just delaying the inevitable. He had to find her and recover those papers at once. Well, almost at once. Firstly, he had one last thing to do.

"It's a sad world when we steal from our own families," Mercer muttered to Myles as he lowered the knife slowly to press against the thief's neck, "His Lordship was most disappointed to hear of his own cousin's deception, Mr Beckett."

A swift movement of the blade ended Myles Beckett's life, and as dark scarlet began to drizzle across onto the cobbled street, Mercer stood up straight and began to briskly march off in the direction that the woman had fled in, his footsteps echoing in the street once more.

It was going to be a long night.
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Noah Rand
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[ * ]
Murder? Noelle frowned, glanced down the street, and decided that flight was wiser than lingering. Something about the way the other woman had spoken made her nervous.

She hurried after the girl, determined to know what was going on. If there truly had been murder done, the alarm must be raised. "Wait there!" She called. "What has happened?"
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
"Hell if I know. Down here," Sally gasped, pulling her into an alley between two buildings. It opened onto the muddy path that ran behind the cottages, Sally's own included. "You can come inside with me till he goes." Then she swore colorfully as she remembered that she had already latched the back door of the lean-to, having been ready to go to bed before the noise had drawn her outside.

"That fellow back there copped it and told me to run when he seen that man," she explained briefly as she fiddled with a piece of straw, trying to undo the latch from the outside. "I reckon I don't wanna be caught with a dead body anyway by no gentleman." Why couldn't the boys have chosen this night as a night to stay awake giggling in bed? But she was not about to shout for them and draw attention to her location.

"Here, you gotta knife or anything?" she asked the young woman, not stopping to think how odd that would be. "Anything flat to slip in and move the latch."
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Noah Rand
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Deckhand
[ * ]
"Try this," Noelle said, offering a slim palette knife. "That poor bloke's really done for?" It was difficult to keep an earnest expression from her face. The possibility of some honest intrigue was exciting.

"Should we raise the alarm, do you think?"
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Sally Fisher
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Sally took the knife without comment and fiddled with the door again. "Is he coming?" she asked. "You can raise the alarm if you want, lovey, but I'm gonna get into my bed and lock the door and stay there till morning!"

At last the latch came free and the door was open. Sally ducked inside and then glanced around at the muddy path to see if the man had followed them. It was hard to see anything in the dark.

"You comin' or not?" she asked the young woman.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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[ * ]
Mercer found himself silently cursing how poorly lit even the main streets of Port Royal were during the night. For a split second he considered falling back and rousing a company of East India troops to begin kicking down doors and pulling people out of their beds, but quickly dismissed the idea as raising more problems than it solved. Wiping his knife clean of the blood with a black handkerchief as he sped his pace down the street, the clerk trained his ears to pick up any sound that they could. Fortunately for him, despite being shrouded in darkness, Port Royal was also deathly silent - which made hearing the small chatter of female voices in the distance a bit easier to pick up.

Bursting into an alleyway that led to a row of cottages, Mercer almost swore under his breath as the voices seemed to fade - either she had hurried out of earshot, or more promisingly, he was close and so the woman had fallen silent. Sliding the knife carefully into his sleeve for a quick withdrawal if necessary, the grim clerk narrowed his eyes and moved further into the dark. Suddenly, he heard a female whisper, and in short quick steps he found himself almost directly under the gaze of a particular cottage. He could hear movement, but before he could decide on his next course of action a there was the unmistakeable creak of a door being opened. Mercer spun round to the source of the noise and in a few steps covered the distance to find himself but a few steps from the now-open doorway and the woman who stood in it.

A second woman stood between the the clerk and his quarry.

"Stay where you are." He called out warningly, unsure if either or both of them could see him - he himself could only just make out their shadowy forms in the darkness.
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Noah Rand
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[ * ]
"No, I'll go - " she began, but fell abruptly silent when a man's voice called out from somewhere close by. Too close by. It couldn't be the watch either, for they would have approached with lanterns, having no need for stealth.

"And what for?" Noelle demanded, sounding indignant. When all else failed, bluff. "Come lookin' for another hidin', Dan, you idler? Get you out of here, before I sends for your mam."
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Sally Fisher
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Sally froze in fear at the man's voice, her first impulse being to shut the door and lock it again. But she could not very well leave the other woman outside in open danger. And if it was indeed the man she had been warned against, he would have little difficulty in following her inside. Sally did not want to put her own daughter and nephews at risk.

She was confused when the woman answered the man so familiarly, but then she realized that she was bluffing. Indeed, any person innocent of the corpse in the street should have nothing to fear from his stalker, correct? Fighting her inclination to slam the door, Sally put on a brave face. She dropped the papers onto the floor behind her and reached for the shovel that was standing beside the door frame. Then she stepped out into the yard and shut the door behind her, hearing the latch fall back into place.

"Just get you gone, Dan," she said, holding up the shovel threateningly. She hoped that he could see it in the dark. "You caused enough trouble 'round here yesterday, lousy shiftless drunk. Where's my money?" she added with a note of accusation.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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"Come lookin' for another hidin', Dan, you idler? Get you out of here, before I sends for your mam."

"Just get you gone, Dan. You caused enough trouble 'round here yesterday, lousy shiftless drunk. Where's my money?"

The fact that both women seemed to have mistaken him for the same drunk threw Mercer off-guard for a split second; maybe neither of them was the woman he had seen fleeing the scene, and were merely gossiping idly in the evening. But then the clerk made out the shape of a blunt object of some description in the first woman's hand, and his suspicions were once again alerted. If they thought he was a harmless drunk who their words dictated they did not fear - why would one of them instantly grab a weapon to defend herself? And what was more, why would the two of them have been gossiping outside, in the dark, and with no lanterns? After these factors were calculated in the clerk's mind, Mercer latched once more onto his instincts and stepped forward slowly.

As he got nearer, the two women took a clearer shape. He could see now that the blunt weapon was in fact a shovel, and he relaxed a little. A small part of his mind had been alert to the possibility of it being a musket.

"Good evening, ladies." he said, half-sneering as he did so, "There's no Dan here. My name is Mr Mercer, and sadly I must report that a murder has taken place outside the bank; I'm trying to catch the killer. Did either of you see anything?"

His words were neutral, but his tone was cold - making no attempt to hide his suspicion, and menace.
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
Sally tensed as the man came closer.

"Good evening, ladies."
Ladies? Well that was a laugh. But he spoke like a gentleman, and that was at least a small reassurance. Gentlemen didn't go about murdering people.

"There's no Dan here. My name is Mr Mercer, and sadly I must report that a murder has taken place outside the bank; I'm trying to catch the killer. Did either of you see anything?"

"A murder?" Sally echoed weakly. She backed against the door, still holding the shovel up in front of her. "Annie, it's your Dan," she said to the woman next to her, faltering. "I always knew he'd come to no good. He... he said he'd get the money somehow or another. He musta finally done it, and robbed the bank."
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Noah Rand
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"Never been one for telling honest truths, were you, Dan?" Noelle asked, sounding annoyed. "There hasn't been a murder. He's only looking for an extra shilling, buying our silence."

She wasn't sure that their bluff would hold up much longer. This man did not look dangerous so much as he felt it. The air around him was tight and uneasy, which made her wary. The sooner they were safely away from this man, the better.

"Surprised the marines haven't done for you, yet," she added and seriously considered calling for them.
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
"Dan?" Sally was again confused by the other woman's words - was she in earnest after all? Was the man really an acquaintance of hers named Dan? But Sally had had enough of talking to strange men in the dark, standing backed against a locked door armed with only a shovel.

"What kind of joke are you playin' at, Dan? Here! Mister Dawson!" she shouted toward her neighbor's house. "Jim Dawson, our man here says there's been a murder! A murder by the bank!" She no longer cared if she woke the children, just as long as they stayed inside. But surely one of her neighbors would hear in that tight row of joining cottages.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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As Mercer listened to the women fumble over their words - the first a little more noticeably than the second, who seemed to be sticking to what the clerk was certain to be a dead bluff now - he spent the seconds calculating what to do. If the first woman - the one with the shovel - was Myles' accomplice, then her wavering resolve was a sign of guilt. But if the second woman - the one still rigidly sticking to the bluff - was the accomplice, then her ability to continue the deception spoke of an experience that Mercer was to consider a risk; a risk to be silenced and buried as soon as possible.

However, before he could decide which one of the women he was to focus on, the decision was made for him,

"Here! Mister Dawson!"

The grim-faced clerk was already moving.

""Jim Dawson, our man here says there's been a murder! A murder by the bank!"

Shoving past anyone or anything that was between him and the shovel-bearing woman, Mercer bore down on her like thunder. One gloved hand swept out to grab the shovel and hold it still whilst the second was brought forward simultaneously to cover her mouth. Unfortunately, any damage caused by her sudden outburst was likely to have already been done. No matter, he mused. He would simply have to act quickly. The clerk's voice turned to from its usual neutral iciness to a malicious hiss,

"Now now, miss, let's not cause undue alarm. Where are those papers?"

After giving her a few seconds to take in just how serious he was, Mercer slowly released his grip over her mouth to allow her to reply.
Edited by Lord Cutler Beckett, 25 Feb 2010, 05:58 PM.
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
Sally had started to gasp when the man moved toward her, but he was instantly in front of her seizing her shovel and clapping his gloved hand over her mouth. She felt the blood freeze in her heart. Her own hands gripped at his arm, trying to pull it away from her face.

Then he spoke again, his voice terrifying. "Now now, miss, let's not cause undue alarm. Where are those papers?"

When he removed his hand she had to catch her breath. She had not even noticed that she had stopped breathing. She whispered tentatively. "I don't... I don't know what you mean. HELP!" Now she was yelling as loudly as she could, turning her face away from him while at the same time lashing forward with her hands, her fingernails searching for his face and his eyes.
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Noah Rand
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The man's sudden forward lunge caught Noelle by surprise, and she took a quick step backward out of instinct. But she was not the target of the attack. Papers? What papers? Was he only after a copy of the town's broadsheet? No, that was stupid. He could have gone anywhere for that. There must have been some banking papers involved with the murder he'd mentioned, but this was a hell of a way to retrieve them.

For several seconds, she stood frozen, shock at the abrupt shift of events holding her immobile. Then the other woman's shout for help dissolved that shock.

"Get off it, you!" Noelle snapped, bringing her furled parasol down at the man's head. This was nothing short of insanity. All this just for an evening's walk!
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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[ * ]
"I don't... I don't know what you mean. HELP!"

Like a manic cat, the woman began screeching and clawing at Mercer, scratching him across the eyes in her first swipe. His reflex was to fall away from and swing his fist outwards blindly, but he was unable to tell if he even made contact with her when he was simultaneously clobbered over the head by the second woman, who he had unwisely ruled out as a threat. With a grunt, he stepped back from the whole debacle, surveying them both - the screeching woman and her parasol-clasping ally - through one good eye, the other bearing a scratch across that left a small trickle of blood down the side of his face.

This was fast getting out of hand, and by the sound of it the woman's screams for help had roused some - if not all - of the neighbours from their beds, as lights began to flicker on in the windows of the nearest cottages, and the sound of people moving about was heard. This situation needed a solution, and it needed one in the next thirty seconds, the clerk estimated.

In two swift movements, his arm was outstretched and in his hand was clasped a thin brown-handled pistol; the favourite in his collection, if Mercer was honest. Pointing it directly at the woman with the parasol, he hissed to the other who had scratched his eye,

"The papers, now!"
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Sally Fisher
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[ * ]
Sally had barely seen what was happening, scratching and clawing blindly at the man while she screamed, but now he was suddenly holding the other woman at gunpoint, bringing the chaos to an instant halt.

"The papers, now!" he hissed.

At the same time, Sally could hear noises inside her cottage. The boys would be getting up and coming to investigate. Her daughter would surely be too afraid and would stay upstairs in her bed. But whatever the significance of those papers, Sally was not about to let the man take them or put the children in danger. But neither was she willing to let him kill a stranger.

She could not think of anything to say. To deny knowledge or possession of the papers would not persuade him, clearly. If she invented a lie and told him that she'd hidden them in the alley, he might just kill them both before going off on a search, and Sally was not quite willing to die for these papers, whatever they may be.

Surely the alarm would be raised by now and people would be coming? And so, having nothing to say for once in her life, she sighed and collapsed on the ground.
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Grayson Wolfe
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[ * ]
Mercer's eyes widened as the woman did not reply, instead either falling down or collapsing. He couldn't really tell which, so he upped the game; every second counted after all.

"You have five seconds before I kill her. Five..."

It was vital that he get those papers, and of course there was the rising probability that this woman was in fact an accomplice of Myles rather than someone caught up in something they didn't understand; why would she be protecting their location in the face of death then?

What was more, the clerk mused, his head still hurt from being whacked by that umbrella. He wasn't in the best of moods.




OOC: Forgive such epic shortness, but a long post doesn't really capture the second-by-second tension.
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Noah Rand
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She was lifting the umbrella for a second blow when there was a dark blur in front of her and suddenly she was staring at the round black hole of a pistol muzzle. Oh. That. That was not good. Noelle froze again, the umbrella half-raised over her head.

The man was demanding the papers, again. What sort of bloody papers was he after? Lord, now the other woman had just fallen into a heap. This was great. Five seconds until she was shot? Even better. Why couldn't this woman just give up whatever the man wanted so he'd go away?
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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Mercer's eyes narrowed. What was the other woman doing? Had she actually fainted?

"Four...three..."
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Sally Fisher
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"All right! Stop!" Sally shrieked, sitting up.
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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Mercer was already squeezing the trigger when she suddenly sprang to her feet, shrieking for him to stop. He relaxed his grip slightly and looked at her, waiting.
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Noah Rand
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Finally. Noelle's arm was beginning ache from the effort of holding it motionless. "Thanks," she grumbled.
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Sally Fisher
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Sally stood up. She reached for the door before remembering that it was locked. She had let the latch fall purposefully. And now there was a sound from within that made her blood freeze.

"Aunt Sally?"

"Stay inside, boys!" she yelled with surprising ferocity. "Go back to bed. Wait!" She could hear them near the door. "Danny, stay inside but come and unlock the door. You stay inside, hear me?"

She turned to the man with the pistol. "They're just inside the door, them papers. Just inside the door."

Why couldn't their dad have been home? She was going to kill her brother when he came back from the tavern. If she herself was still alive by then.

There was a scraping and a click of the latch as it was unlocked. "Now get back, Danny, get back from the door." Keeping her eyes on the armed man, and keeping the door pulled as closed as possible, she reached her arm into the entrance and felt the papers on the floor. She pulled them out quickly and let the door bang shut, locking them outside again.

She realized belatedly that he would probably shoot her as soon as he had them. The other woman might have a chance to run though. But there was some noise from the neighbors next door, someone finally stirring awake and coming to investigate the noise. Maybe he would decide he didn't have time to kill them.

She threw the papers at his feet. "Take 'em. Just take 'em and go away!"
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Lord Cutler Beckett
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At last, thought Mercer.

Keeping his pistol aimed firmly at the umbrella-wielding lady, the clerk swooped down and snatched the papers from the ground, checked the first one to make sure it was genuine, before taking a couple of steps back and smirking sneeringly. Did they really believe he was going to let them walk away from this, alive, healthy and more crucially...as witnesses? With a sneer at their own naivety, the clerk moved the pistol to aim at the woman who had handed him the papers,

"Say goodnight, miss."

"Hey! What's going on out there?"

The startled cry of a gruff-voiced man took Mercer by surprise, as he became aware of one of the woman's neighbours shouting down at them from one of the cottages' second floors. Although he could not see the man - and presumably could not be seen by him in return - Mercer threw his aim roughly in the direction that the voice had come from and, with a deafening crack, fired off a warning shot that seemed to get close enough to the neighbour to send him scurrying back into his house with a cry. His shot wasted, Mercer gave the two women a cold glare before hurrying away out into the alleyway, leaving the woman who lived there with five words,

"I'll be back for you."

And with that, the clerk disappeared into the shadows, clutching the sheaf of papers in his hands.
Edited by Lord Cutler Beckett, 27 Feb 2010, 12:32 AM.
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Sally Fisher
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Sally had ground her eyes shut when he turned the pistol on her. She jumped when the next sound she heard was not a pistol shot but a man's voice shouting, John Jacobs next door. And then the assailant fired at him instead, making her jump again. She shivered at his parting words - "I'll be back for you."

As soon as he was out of sight, she drew breath and exploded in a piercing scream. "Murder! Murder! Help!" She grabbed the other woman by the arm and pulled her to the door, calling to her nephew in a more rational tone of urgency. "Danny, Charlie, open the door and let us in, quick. He's gone. Let us in!"
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Noah Rand
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The shot made Noelle jump, though it had not been aimed at her. Her first thought was to duck, while her second was to finish the much-delayed swing at the pistol-wielding madman. She was too slow; he was hurrying away with his precious papers and her umbrella swished down through empty air.

"Damnation," she cried, incensed that she hadn't been quick enough to pay him back for such a scare. Then she was being tugged toward the cottage and the perceived safety of its walls.
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Sally Fisher
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It seemed like hours before the door was unlocked. Sally burst into the cottage, dragging the other young woman inside and slamming the door behind her. She ignored the earnest questions from the boys.

"Lads, both of youse, get dressed. Betsy!" She knew full well that her daughter would be awake upstairs and listening. "Betsy, get dressed and come down! Quick sharp! We're leavin'! Hurry up!"

She herself rushed around the dark little kitchen and grabbed what few things were of value to herself. She also grabbed a knife. Then she remembered the other woman and grabbed a second. She paused in her breathless flurry to look at her for the first time. "Here, take this. Are ye a'right?"
Edited by Sally Fisher, 27 Feb 2010, 07:27 AM.
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