I apologize for the incredible crappiness of the last version…I hadn't updated in so long I had forgotten how too! Please bear with me! ~mystabelle
They arrived at a tall building. The three men roughly pulled Shelby out of the car and forced her to her feet. Hey eyes slowly scanned the building, going up and up and up. At the very top, she could see an orange sign that said, "Exco". The hunchback stood in front of her and her neck snapped downwards to meet his eyes.
"Madame," he began. "Sorry for not introducing ourselves. I am Roland, professional philosopher and assassin." He took a bow. "This," he said gesturing to the lean, black man on his right. "Is Francis D'Angelo. His name might jog back some memories." And indeed it did. Marc had once been a famous Olympic runner, until he had tested positive for steroids after a competition, ruining his career. "And this," Roland said with a sweeping gesture to his left. "Is Monstro. You may remember him from WWF competitions in the late 80's." And indeed she did. But before she could piece together anything else, she was jostled into Monstro's arms. Roland hobbled over to the trunk and took a large gun like machine out.
"Franc, shoot this." He commanded. The lean man did as he commanded. A large grappling hook with rope attached flew into the air. Up, up it went until it hit a window. Shelby cringed for the sound of an alarm. There was none.
"Just as promised." Roland chuckled. "Alright then. Monstro, grab the girl. Franc, grab his shoulder." Monstro attached himself to a harness and slung Shelby, still bound and gagged, onto his back. Franc grabbed on and Roland hopped onto Monstro's other shoulder.
Now understand the true evil of this plot. Francis and Monstro were not bad people, just merely old celebrities; de-throned and looking for a new, less public career. Roland was the brain behind the plot. But he needed Francis's speed and Monstro's strength to carry it off. Often, Francis would entertain Monstro, whose real name was actually Bob, with knock-knock jokes and puns.
This odd ensemble began to scale the building. Monstro went up, arm over arm, all the while keeping his mind focused on his work. Suddenly they heard a car door slam at the foot of the building. Roland peered down. A man in black was standing at the bottom of the tower, staring upwards.
"Ack!" He squawked in displeasure. "Someone has caught up with us!" Francis then looked down.
"Yes it would seem so." He observed.
"If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it." Roland snapped. He looked down once again.
"What? What is he doing?" He gasped in disbelief.
"It would appear, master Roland, that with all due respect, he is climbing the rope," Francis said.
"Silence!" Roland commanded. And indeed the man was climbing the rope. Though they were nearly half way there, the man gained quickly.
"Faster nitwit." Roland snapped at Monstro. "He gains."
"He has only himself. I carry three extra." Monstro countered.
"Don't hurt yourself thinking." Roland grumbled. They continued for minutes longer silence. Finally, they reached the window. Roland and Francis hopped off and undid Shelby and Monstro.
"Grab the girl." Roland commanded to Monstro. "Franc, stay here and beat this guy up."
"How do I do that?" Franc inquired.
"Out speed him or something. Just finish him off!" With that, Roland and Monstro went out the office door and into one of the many halls.
* * * *
Marco arrived at the cathedral. All was silent and not a soul stirred along the dimly lit street.
"Shelby?" He called. "Shelby?" His heart fluttered in fear. Where was she? "Shelby!" he called more urgently. Suddenly the sound of paper fluttering broke the all-encompassing silence. He looked for the source of the sound and found a note taped to the lamppost. "Dearest Marco," it read. "We have your fiancée. We ask for the sum of 3 million dollars to be left at this exact location. Notify police and she will die." He ripped it off and clutched it in his hand. He knew exactly who was behind this heinous scheme: Exco.