You know Cora, there are times when you are a complete idiot. Cora thought bitterly. In her determination to get the cash, she hadn't really planned out the job. So she was stuck outside a large brick house, trying to placate a large, angry dog.
"Good doggy. Good doggy!" Cora said frantically. The dog growled menacingly. Cora rooted through her pockets, seeing if she had anything to feed the dog. She didn't have anything. The dog seemed to sense that Cora was not only a threat, but she was a threat without food, and lunged at her. Cora flung herself to the side, so that the dog's jaws closed on air instead of flesh. She flung out a hand to desperately search for a weapon or anything. Her hand closed on the ventilation duct cover.
It was loose, and it came free easily in her grip. She threw the cover a the dog in the hopes of slowing it down and slipped into the vents. There, she took deep breaths.
"There's a reason why I'm a cat person." she muttered to herself, Her braid was starting to come loose, but there was no time to redo it. If anyone came to check on why the dog was barking at the top of his lungs, it'd be best to be done with the job and out of here.
Cora climbed though the vents as silently as she could. She was terrified. She had never had a job like this before. It was always just track so-and-so down after work and introduce him to Mr. Dagger. She really was an idiot. She was a teenager, not an infiltrating assassin!
It was too late to back out now, though. With a sigh, Cora began to squirm her way through the vents without trying to rattle around too much. It was cold in the vents, and Cora was starting to worry about getting lost. Finally, she saw narrow beams of light shining through a dusty vent cover. Freedom! She knocked it down quickly and scrambled into an empty room.
For a Mexican house, the walls seemed thicker and more well-made than usual. She glanced around, and then slipped two of the daggers out of their hidden spots up her sleeves.
Cora strode down the hall nervously, trying not to make any noise. She turned around to peer down the hall, when she knocked down a broom that was propped against the wall. It fell with a crack like a gunshot. Cora froze, straining for any sound of activity.
Then she heard it. Footsteps. Someone was coming. She ducked into a doorway, her breathing quick and shallow.
"What was that?!" a man's voice said furiously. Cora peeked around the corner. A large, broad shouldered man was glaring at the broom. Suddenly, a scrawny man with a mop of light hair came running up holding the ventilation cover.
"Look!" the man said simply, extending the ventilation cover. The broad-shouldered man (Cora mentally nicknamed him Angry) glared at the duct cover and then at Scrawny.
"Someone's in here." Angry growled.
"You think it's Copley?" Scrawny glanced around.
"You really think that Copley would do something like this?" snorted Angry. "Copley's a coward. He'd never get his hands dirty if he could help it. It's probably just some fool who Copley bought off."
Cora began to edge down the hall, so that she was further out of sight. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, and she was positive that Angry and Scrawny could hear her heart beating right out through her chest. It was certainly loud enough.
"They can't be too far." Scrawny said. "Let's look for them."
Cora clutched her knife hilts and tensed, ready to lunge and stab the person who came around the corner. Angry stormed around the corner and spotted Cora.
"Copley, you idiot." Angry muttered around her breath. "Using a little girl to get your dirty work done." he started towards Cora, not spotting the knives in her hand. Cora was furious. A little girl, was she? As if she was no older than Amelia! With a roar of rage, she flung herself at Angry, with a knife ready to pierce his heart.
Angry caught Cora's wrist. Cora froze out of panic, staring at the large hand enveloping her wrist. She rose her other knife, but he caught her other wrist as well. There was suddenly a painful pressure as Angry squeezed Cora's wrists, and both of Cora's daggers fell to the ground with a clatter.
"Ow... ow...ow..." Cora whimpered.
"Alright, girl. How many other daggers do you have?" Angry said. Cora had been told that if she was in this type of situation, say nothing, but the pain in her wrists and the fear in her mind loosened her tongue significantly.
"F-five." she stammered.
"Disarm yourself." Angry released Cora, but before she could even think of drawing a dagger from her boot of the nape of her neck, Angry took out a pistol. Cora didn't recognize the make, but she didn't need to know the make of a gun to know that her life was in danger.
"Right." she gave a quick nod. She drew two daggers from either boot and produced two more from her sleeves. She spread her hands to show that she wasn't hiding anything.
"And the fifth one?" Angry pressed. Cora scowled, but she reached and pulled out the dagger hidden behind the nape of her neck. She dropped it with the others. Angry nudged the pile of daggers out of Cora's reach with his foot.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"We'll see." was what Angry said in response. It wasn't a very encouraging thing to say. Cora swooned on the spot, but Angry seized her upper forearm and began to drag her down the hall.
"Where are you taking me?" Cora asked. Her voice was shrill from panic. Angry didn't answer. Cora tried kicking him. "Answer me!"
"Girl, you may be one of Copley's assassins, but that means shit to me." Angry growled, and pressed the gun into the small of Cora's back. "Now, move along, don't talk, don't try anything funny. You got that?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now, march."