Amara Fibinaci

They finally took of the old sad brown paper bag off my head. I was sat down in an exact replica of the room but I could notice the slight differences.

The sky was alighting itself as the sun was getting ready to rise.

He sat in front of me.

My hands were tied with zip ties.

Amateurs.

"Who do you work for?" He asked. It always irritated me. How they never were interested in me.

"I don't know." I answered looking bored. I pressed my foot against the wooden floor broads. They were weak.

He placed a gun on the table next to us. It was meant to be some sort of threat.

I placed my feet up on the small part of the exposed chair he was sitting on. Inches away from his dick.

I smirked.

"I still don't know, I like a cigarette." I didn't ask I ordered.

He took one out and lit it placed it between my lips as I inhaled deeply, he pulled it away allowing me to exhale the fumes that messed with my lungs every now and then.

"Kill her." He ordered my death making me laugh softly. He turned around looking at me waiting for me to explain myself.

"See I know you won't kill me." I simply said shrugging at the fact I could be minutes away from death.

"And why is that?" He said leaning against the door frame he took his jacket blazer off showing of two more of the guns strapped to him.

"Because then you will never find out who I work for or why I need that file." I nodded towards the original file I was meant to steal.

He smiled. Smile, not a smirk.

"I can understand why you want this file-" he pointed towards the weapon.

"But this file? I don't understand why this file could be important to your boss." He pointed towards the second file. The one I got to greedy with. The one that could explain to me who I could be.

"Personal interest, slight boredom call it whatever you want." I answered quickly wanting to brush it off.

Not let him see how desperate I was to read that file.

"So you wouldn't mind if I burnt it?" He asked picking them file up and taking out his lighter.

I saw the suns first ray shine through the window.

Times up.

Two smoke bombs dropped in the room. Covering his vision but I didn't need to relay on my vision to get me out of here. I snapped the zip ties and stood up throwing a roundhouse kick his way. I heard a crack.

I smirked grabbing the original file I came for and stuffed it up my shirt as I ran towards the broken window jumping out.

It was seconds of free fall before I grabbed the rope that was dropped down for me. I wrapped my leg around it for extra security.

He stood at the window as I saluted him and waved him goodbye.

-

The helicopter ride was short when we landed on the helipad.

"Mr Ramierze." I greeted the man who had hired me.

"Your late." He looked angry. He was a short man. I hated his guts because he had always felt he was entitled to everything and everyone.

"I like to show you something." I said taking out my phone and going through my camera roll as the man tapped his foot impatiently.

I pulled the picture up which contained a mans head in my suitcase when he pissed me off to much.

I showed him, his face white as a sheet as the blood drained from it. He began to cough violently and began gagging.

"This is what I once done to a man who hired me. It could easily be recreated should I be angered Mr Ramierze."

He pulled his tie off and began taking deep breaths.

I pulled out the file from under my top and threw it on the floor where he had to bend down to pick it up.

"And my payment?" I asked he handed me a briefcase full of cash with shakey hands. I reached for my gun to see it wasn't there.

Fuck. That stupid fucker took it. And the file.

I took the briefcase and walked out of the building towards the hotel I was staying at.

By the time I got in, London was coming to life with the streets filling up with bustling chatter.

I went to my room after scanning the lobby for anyone who could stand out.

I opened the briefcase leaving it on the bed as I stripped out of the sweaty cloths leaving me in my underwear.

I grabbed a cigarette lighting it as I grabbed each cash stack and began counting it. Flicking the ashes of my dying cigarette every now and then.

150,000 pounds. On the dot.

I checked the time to find it was already eight. I took a shower washing the dirt of.

I hid the briefcase under one of the floorboards. I need to get the file.

For my own sanity at least.

I dressed myself in a green three piece suit with a black shirt under. I took out a pair of red bottom heels and wore them.

I let my hair down the usual way it always was. I grabbed a complimentary croissant on the way down as I made my way out of the hotel towards cannery wharf, where the dickhead would be arriving at his company right now.