The conference was alive with chatter. Courtly officials mingled and drifted, attaching uncaringly onto neighboring circles. The presidents of each household were present, alongside their Ambassadors and Generals.

Harry attended under the title of Emissary of House Johnson, a fraudulent company espoused by counterfeit documents and papers. Patiently, he watched Renigan Mora with an expectant eye. The statuesque official at his side turned to answer a phone call.

Harry watched as Renigan Mora's General attempted to remain composed. Hushed, he spoke frantically into Renigan's ear, and so the fluster was passed, as Renigan himself could not hide his fury. After receiving hissed orders, the general briskly strode from the room.

Good. 'Looks like his General is going in his stead, he's leaving the building now.' Harry muttered into his ear-piece, safely hidden beneath veiling side-burns.


Nate crouched, poised atop a building adjacent to the vicinity. Adumbrated by a taller structure, he was hidden from the moon's revealing glow, watchful eyes trained on the grand doors of the hotel, which swung open.

'Red hair, black tuxedo?' Nate inquired.

Brief intermission, That's him. Harry's communication rang hollow from Nate's ear-piece.

Nate started off into a swift gait, wary of the potentially lose tiles scaling the gables.

The general's pace was something short of sprinting. He meandered through the shanty towns at a hastened pace, his path inconsistently lit at sporadic intervals by lamp-posts. Nate took notice of the General's gallivanting route, but his resolute stride suggested a method to his madness.

Departing the wealthy district, Nate watched as the General attenuated his haste, briefly scanned his surroundings and reached for his pocket.

'Flynn, note this.' He waited for confirmation.

Go on.

'Seventeen-eighty Tide street. The key is kept within the right-wing pocket of his blazer.'

Okay, got it.

The General procured a pistol before swinging the door open, and Nate smiled at his evident confusion before retreating into the shadows.


Harry was growing weary of sharing banal courtesies with the members of the assembly when, finally, the Mora General returned, looking disgruntled. Methods of acquiring the key from the General's person swept through his thoughts, analyzing each possibility, he found faults in near all potential actions.

His gaze swept the room for inspiration, before locking on the waiter, who was burdened with a tray of wine-filled glasses. He looked to where Renigan Mora stood, then back at the General. The General would cross paths with the waiter. Harry receded into the crowd.

When he reemerged, a hand swiftly shifted the waiter's tray enough for it to tumble from his palm, consequently spilling wine onto the Mora General. Silence fell over those of witness. The waiter stuttered apologies, pulled a cloth from his waist and delicately begun dabbing at the General's coat.

'You fumbling fool!' The General snapped, pushing the waiter away.

'Incompetence, a waiter that can't bare a tray…' Harry prodded, knowing full well the pride they take in immaculate subservience.

The waiter's expression was one of dignified shock. 'I can bare a tray just fine,' he hesitantly announced.

'Then how is it you managed to spill wine all over this gentleman?'

The General made off towards Renigan once again.

'He shoved it from my grasp.' The waiter's confidence died quickly as the General swelled with anger.

'I did no such thing!' He boomed, approaching the waiter.

Harry watched, waited for an opportunity. He knew there would be none at this rate, unless he intervened.

'We've heard quite enough, allow me to escort you from the chamber,' Harry stepped towards the waiter. Jerking himself backwards as to feign the appearance of being shoved, he let himself fall hard against the General. They sprawled to the ground as witnesses gasped and reached to help the General back to his feet.

The General was scowling fiercely at the waiter, blind in rage. His blazer was spread, revealing the key for the briefest of moments, which Harry twisted and plucked from his peripheral vision.

Holding his jaw in a pained affectation, Harry retreated to the rest-rooms, where he pressed the acquired key into a mold. Returning to the conference room, he planted the key onto the first official that crossed his path. He could not keep the key itself, for it would undoubtedly be chipped.

Politics is fun. He mused.

With that, Harry absconded from the conference.

'I've got it,' He said whilst loosening his tie.

Already? Good, I'm at the Motel.


'Criminal work comes naturally to you doesn't it?' Nate's arms were folded, and he suppressed a smirk.

'Says the thief,' Harry laughed.

Nate joined Harry on the couch, lounging back. 'How'd it go?'

Procuring a case, he opened it to reveal a green mold with grooves where he had pressed the key's blade; he tossed it onto the coffee table. 'I may have costed a waiter his job, poor bastard.'

'Sacrifices must be made, right? Nate sounded unsure of himself.

'For one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars? I think so.' Harry nudged at Nate, who rose from the couch. He glanced around the room with his hands cradling the back of his head as if lost and exhausted.

'Mate?' His voice was gentle.

There was a brief interlude of silence, as Nate seemed lost in thought. 'What are we going to do Flynn?'

Harry slowly leaned forward, 'We're going to get the job done.' He waited for Nate to return his reassuring smile.

Nate turned away, 'I'm hitting the hay.'

'Yeah, okay.' He said softly, watching Nate as he left.

Resting back into the couch, he laid awake for the remainder of the night.


I made a video tribute to Harry, for I was bored and inspired. Here it is:

http:/ www. youtube .com /watch?v=fo8Ih9OlgWw&list=UUdFRbojC0W-H2qsosTxOleg&index=1&feature=plcp

Sorry for the slow updates. Feeling despondent recently, which effects my writing.