Emma Rain's Room

“Take me to Ms. Rain’s room,” you say. You have a job to do here, and you spy an opening here.

You take a seat within the room, and wait. Within minutes, Emma shows up. If she’s surprised at all by your presence, she doesn’t indicate it, opting instead to begin removing her make-up by the sink.

“What’re you here for?” she eventually asks.

“I’ve got a question for you,” you answer. “It’s about something that happened a couple of months ago.”

“What do you mean?” she says.

“Somebody gave you a USB then,” you say matter-of-factly. “You know which one I’m talking about.”

She nods, looking at you suspiciously.

“Where is it?”

“And why would you want to know?” she asks.

You decide that you’ve earned her trust at this point. There’s nothing to lose by revealing a little more information. You flick open a convincing forgery – a badge.

“Jack Bond, CIA. It’s an issue of international interest, for the security of our nations here,” you say. “Any information you have regarding the drive will be of immense value to us.”

“Wait shit, you real?” she says, looking around as if somebody could pop-out at any moment.

“Yes, dead serious,” you say, stowing the badge away. “Don’t worry, nobody will get us here. You got anything for me?”

“Well, I don’t actually possess the USB anymore,” she says apologetically. “Somebody else has it now.”

“Who has it, and why?” you ask.

“To cut a long story short, I traded it away to Angela Zimmerman for a guaranteed lead role in her new film,” she says. “As far as I know, she still has it, in her safe of treasures. You know the one.”

“Shoot. You could hardly have given it to a worse person,” you say, chuckling. “At the very least, we know where it is now.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Emma says. “By the way, this doesn’t mean you have to kill me, because I know sensitive information now, right?”

“Of course not,” you say, smiling. “But I might have to collect some form of payment sometime soon, to compensate.”

“That sounds… exciting,” she murmurs. “I await your call then, Mr. Bond.”

“It was nice talking to you,” you say, dropping her a name card. “I have to get going now. Please, don’t mention our little conversation just now to anyone, or there will be consequences.”

“What conversation?” she says, slipping the card into her purse. “The incredible fuck must have wiped my mind clean.”

“I’m not sure what just transpired either,” you say, chuckling.

With that, you turn and leave the room, heading for your car. While you approach the parking lot, your phone becomes a hub of activity, sending and receiving classified information related to the case. By the time the engine starts up, another agent has been assigned to your case, and you’ve begun constructing your plan.