Emma had almost missed the job. Some faceless drone, likely one that had only heard the rumors of her, had merely slipped the information on a small, worthless scrap of paper, under her door. She had walked over it, stepped on it, even tracked it into another room before realizing it was there. She made a mental note to tell her contacts that if they couldn't have a messenger call or leave a substantially sized envelope, they best skip her and go on to their number two...no, the number two had been taken out...the number three, then.
~Padparadscha sapphire, 350 carats, in transit Wednesday at 5 pm. Come armed.
Then there were a set of coordinates and those were followed swiftly by Emma's bitter annoyance. The paper must have been sent on Monday but here it was Tuesday night, almost midnight on Wednesday, and she was only now coming into intentional contact with the information. Her anger was palpable as she crumpled the paper and threw it behind her.
Perhaps she was a bit rough with the map when she pulled it out of her drawer labeled "planning". The drawer itself was extremely cluttered and rarely-used. The map was marked in a myriad of places, ragged around the edges, and the only bit of her planning drawer that had ever really been used.
"I think I need a new map, at least get a digital one," She muttered to herself, chewing on her bottom lip, as she scanned the street that the coordinates had indicated.
The only reason she took this job at last notice was of the price tag. The stone was easily in the seven, perhaps even, the eight digits. Getting a cut of a multi-million dollar gem would hopefully be worth the trouble. Though she didn't anticipate much trouble in this job. It was simple. Get the stone and, just as quickly, get out.
Emma loathed working with others. She had done it only a handful of times since nailing the coffin on her so-called partnership with Ravager, that lasted for nearly seven years, just two years ago. Remembering her time with the mercenary made her growl, which in turn made the contemptible coworker perk up and look at her expectantly.
"What's with the growling?" The man, she didn't bother with names, she never bothered to offer hers during any job, glared at her.
"None of your damn business so don't worry about it," Her counterpart frowned and he returned to staring out the cafe window, clearly becoming impatient. She sighed, "Calm down, we've got about," she trailed off, eying the clock on the wall, "Fifteen minutes yet."
He sniffed, raking a hand through his terribly bleached hair, "I hate waiting."
This managed to drive a smile out of her, "Well that is at least one thing we have in common."
Emma shifted in her seat, improving her view of the street. The man across from her shifted as well though uncomfortably. It was rare that people felt comfortable around her anyway, her reputation tended to precede her. The man had been a bit jittery since they met at the cafe; the coffee certainly wasn't helping him.
"The problem," she paused, when he jumped at the sound her voice. Her eyebrow raised by a fraction and she continued, "With these sorts of jobs is that I often feel it would be better if I found a way to fence it myself. More profitable for me anyway."
She said this flippantly, silently gauging his reaction. As she expected, he seemed worried, and she could imagine all of the little voices playing in his mind. An amused smile flitted over her features and she shrugged happily, searching for the car once again. This could prove interesting.
The next twenty minutes were spent in silence. Emma distracted herself with counting cars on the street, judging the distance between where the jewelers' shop was and where the supposed drop off point was. She calculated the time it would take her to walk, run, or cartwheel between them. And then she saw the vehicle.
She tapped the man's leg under the table, causing him to jump nearly a foot, and pointed through the window before standing and making her way toward the door. When he approached her, she spoke to him, not a whisper but soft enough to not be heard, "Clear on the plan? You stop the car and I do the rest."
The man simply nodded. Emma smiled at him, a warm smile, one that said 'of course you do'.
The unmarked, black car approached the cafe, slowing to avoid a car pulling out into the road. At that point Emma approached, striding confidently toward the car and tapping loudly on the tinted window of the rear passenger side. The car slowed further and her accomplice then approached the driver side, similarly tapping, though with a gun.
The driver, as Emma knew he would, hesitated, teetering on stopping to preserve his life or gunning it to preserve his life later. In that moment she opened the door, finding the back to be empty, and her partner did the same with the driver's door. The man pulled the driver out. Emma watched him slide in behind the wheel. Wait a second, that wasn't part of the plan. As he turned around she slammed the door shut and quickly backed away from the car.
The rear window exploded in a shower of glass, just as she ducked behind a nearby parked car. With a second shot fired off, the car sped off. She started counting, knowing that she had only a moment or two before the people in the other car would realize what had happened. The black car turned haphazardly around the corner just as a second vehicle came racing toward the cafe. Emma took a breath, shook herself out, and jumped out in front of it.
The impact was not pleasant. She turned in time to avoid serious injury, of course, but the blunt collision still knocked the wind out of her. She staggered, bent toward the vehicle, and felt her feet leave the ground. She rolled on the hood and she flew forward when the driver screeched to a halt. She hit the ground with a sharp thud, and she heard, more than saw, the driver's door open and footsteps approach.
A face swam before her vision. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was not entirely prepared for that much of a blow. But her senses came back in time. The man was leaning down, asking if she was okay. She smiled, grabbed his tie, and pulled him forward. The driver gasped as a knife contacted with his chest and, if she calculated correctly, into his heart. With her own blood staining things, no one would notice when the driver's spilled over her hand. She staggered up, pushed him in between the two cars she had jumped out from, and also pocketed the switchblade. To any bystander that could actually see anything, it would appear she was simply angry.
She took a quick look around, not even one witness that could clearly say what happened. Perfect. She limped to the car, slid in behind the wheel, and checked the rear view mirror. Her eyes narrowed. Target acquired, she shut the door, and sped off down the street.
"Who...what..."
She swerved around a slower moving vehicle and reached her hand back, palm held up, "Sapphire please."
The man, a bloated, pale, and clammy excuse of a man, stammered at her, trying to question her and refuse her all at once.
She rolled her eyes, looking at him through the mirror, "Really? You really think your pandering will help at this point? You realize I just ran in front of and got hit by a fast moving vehicle to get here, right? You think you have any means of stopping me from just taking what I want? I could just shoot you and get it over with right now."
He started to speak but she held up a finger, wagging it at him, "No! I will finish! The entire left side of my body hurts. I'm pretty sure at least one bone is broken. At the very least I have a dislocation. I am not in the mood to hear you whine about how much you could pay me. Trust me, I know exactly what that stone is worth and I will decide what to do about it. I generally have very little patience so I am asking you politely. Give me the sapphire now!"
At the end of her rant, she narrowly avoided a collision with a vehicle, as she ran a red light, "Oops."
She held her hand out once more and it was only seconds before she heard a case being snapped open. A heavy weight settled into her palm. She glanced back, ensuring it was the gem, then pulled it toward her face to scrutinize it.
"You'd better not have tried to fake me out," she muttered, her eyes flicking between the gem and the road. Her speed had been creeping up and she caught a glimpse of the white of the man's knuckles behind her. She smiled, satisfied that the gem was real, and she pulled over, screeching to a halt.
The man behind her let go of his last meal, the acrid smell of vomit permeating the small space.
"Gross," She grimaced and opened the door, "Nice doing business with you." She hefted the stone in salute, then slipped it into the bag she brought with her.
Emma began doubling back the way she had come, albeit a slightly less public route and with a prominent limp still in her step. She gritted her teeth, determined to work through it. There was one small piece still left to pick up; that traitorous wretch.
The car barreled past her while she was on the phone, giving the word that the job was done and reading some poor sap the riot act about who they hired to help her with these gigs. Her eyes tracked the black car and a growl began in her throat.
The brake lights still worked, she mused, when the car stopped, skidding at the sudden application of them. She started toward the vehicle, reaching into the bag, her fingers curling around the gun. The driver side opened and the young man stood. The fool was slow though and he hadn't even raised his own weapon yet. Emma guessed he couldn't walk and chew at the same time either.
Emma looked down the barrel of her gun at him, "So who do you really work for?"
He laughed in response.
"I just spent almost an hour with you. I know you're not ballsy so let's try again. Who do you work for?"
He was shaking but it appeared he wouldn't talk. Emma shrugged, not in the mood, and shot him square in the head. Must have been his first rodeo, she thought, turning on her heels and walked away, not sparing a second thought.
"They found him dead in the street!"
Emma leaned forward, pressing her palms firmly onto the wood of the desk, "You are kidding me, right? He was going to steal the gem from you. He also tried to kill me."
"He was second best-"
Emma held up her hand to interrupt, "Third best."
Her boss sighed, "Third best fine. Still, you are slowly whittling down the others and that doesn't help us much."
Emma stepped away, the limp still evident, now much worse. She narrowed her eyes, fished in the bag and pulled out the gem, "So if I just walked out of here right now with this, that would be okay because it wouldn't be a challenge to find someone to both replace and go after me?"
She began backing away, smiling when the man behind the desk stood suddenly, flabbergasted at the very least.
"N-no, I didn't mean that. You must know that," he stammered, "I'm very grateful Mr. Powers loaned you to us. You've been an irreplaceable asset for the past month. Most of the things we have done couldn't have been accomplished without your talents."
"Great! Then I expect 25% more than we agreed upon for saving this from the grubby hands of your other employee."
He swallowed hard but then simply nodded. Emma smiled again and tossed the gem. They both watched it sail, a sweat breaking out on her boss's head, and then it landed on the cushioned chair in front of the desk. It wobbled, then settled, and she heard the man let out a breath. Giving him a mock salute, she turned and exited.
The check was mostly worth it. It more than paid the medical bills; there had been a dislocation, severe bruising, and three broken bones. There was a little tension about their number three no longer being available for work but that had been smoothed over with a little demonstration of the weight of a recently procured gemstone.