Disclaimer and author's notes:
See part 1.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Molto agitato: to play in a very hurried, agitated, restless style
The station is buzzing with activity. The aisles between the desks are crowded with people and cluttered with all sorts of junk--bags, overflowing trash cans, stray papers, snow-crusted boots. The raucous babble of voices fills the air with loud chatter.
Eames stares at the computer screen, her lively blue eyes alert and watchful, as Goren flips through pages in a telephone book. He quickly scribbles down a few numbers--just as everything on his desk is doused in a sudden shower of hot coffee. The detective glares pointedly at the passing officer, getting a dirty look in return. Eames smiles sympathetically at Goren from behind the monitor, rolling her eyes slightly.
Behind them, a squad of policemen drag a struggling suspect into the precinct. The man screams hysterically and writhes in their grasp, the whites of his eyes showing as he weeps with frenzied sobs.
Eames beckons Goren over to her side with a wave of her slender hand; as he leans over her shoulder, she points out the address scrawled across the screen. Goren hurries to get their coats, shoving and jostling his way through the swarm of people, as Eames switches off the computer and goes to inform Deakins.
In a few minutes they have cleared most of the crowd, and head outside to the noisy streets and traffic jams in the cold, bright winter day.
~*~*~*~*~*~
See part 1.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Molto agitato: to play in a very hurried, agitated, restless style
The station is buzzing with activity. The aisles between the desks are crowded with people and cluttered with all sorts of junk--bags, overflowing trash cans, stray papers, snow-crusted boots. The raucous babble of voices fills the air with loud chatter.
Eames stares at the computer screen, her lively blue eyes alert and watchful, as Goren flips through pages in a telephone book. He quickly scribbles down a few numbers--just as everything on his desk is doused in a sudden shower of hot coffee. The detective glares pointedly at the passing officer, getting a dirty look in return. Eames smiles sympathetically at Goren from behind the monitor, rolling her eyes slightly.
Behind them, a squad of policemen drag a struggling suspect into the precinct. The man screams hysterically and writhes in their grasp, the whites of his eyes showing as he weeps with frenzied sobs.
Eames beckons Goren over to her side with a wave of her slender hand; as he leans over her shoulder, she points out the address scrawled across the screen. Goren hurries to get their coats, shoving and jostling his way through the swarm of people, as Eames switches off the computer and goes to inform Deakins.
In a few minutes they have cleared most of the crowd, and head outside to the noisy streets and traffic jams in the cold, bright winter day.
~*~*~*~*~*~