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The pair of guards ran from the building for the eighth time in a row; their caps pulled low over their faces, each with a bundle of clothes hastily rolled into a ball clutched in their arms. Out the door, into the alley and promptly out of sight. No way of seeing who they were during their escape, just as there was no significant evidence from their trip through the building's lower portion. They had captured the young man's chin and right cheek as he emerged from the storage room on the fifth floor; the change from dark to light had momentarily dazzled him and he had turned his head slightly. Still, it wasn't enough to identify him, at least not well enough to act on.
"You're sure you know who these people are?"
Burgess, seated in a chair against the wall, glanced up. "Absolutely. We've had recent... encounters with one another. The girl, Lawson, is the one from the hotel incident; the other kid is the one my boys saw to in the alley."
"If your 'boys' saw to him, how is it that he's sneaking around our building with his friend?"
The monolithic man ran a finger across his jawline, frowning. "I don't know. I gave very specific instructions to the man I put in charge of it; the kid wasn't supposed to be out of the hospital for a week, minimum. I told him to break some bones."
The figure standing beside the laptop rewound the security footage to show the pair running from the building yet again, but flinched a little at the mention of breaking bones. "He doesn't seem very broken to me, Burgess. Would that really be necessary, anyway? You know how I feel about illegal activities under the company's roof."
The big man stood from his chair, shrugging. "Well, they got off easy somehow, so it's fine, right? Besides, they've broken into my motel room, Giselle, so I consider it open season. Either way, they're amateurs, it's just a matter of time before they slip up. The girl has good instincts for this, I'll grant her that, but the boy's just along for the ride. Maybe he's been helpful to her so far, maybe not, but he's not cut out for this work and that makes him a weak spot for her. One she can't afford to have if she wants to stay ahead of us once that streak of luck she's on gives out."
"All right, have it your way. Could you get the light? I prefer to discuss things when I can see the person I'm speaking to."
A quick flick of his hand found the light switch and the room came into focus; 'posh' was the word that came to mind. Hardwood panelling covered the walls, the sort you would expect of a judge's office or a courthouse. The floor's feather-soft carpet utterly deadened one's footsteps, even for a man as large as Tyrone Burgess, and the wall-sized window at the rear of the office gave them an unequalled view over the city all the way to Parliament Hill. The desk the laptop was set on was hand-carved, as were the seats, and the cushions looked to be some kind of high-quality fabric, though Burgess was no expert on such things. Just to complete the image that the office was intended for the CEO, potted plants had been placed in the corners of the room, provided their daily doses of sunlight by the massive window.
The light also brought the woman he was speaking to into focus; Giselle Fitch, CEO of Icarus Development Incorporated. She was short, but then, everyone was short to Burgess; he supposed she stood at least five foot eight in her slight heels, so she was above average. She had red hair, but the odd strand of grey could be seen when you had the bird's eye view that he did. It was cut short enough to barely touch the shoulders of her suit, which was of the 'immaculately black and custom-tailored' variety that Burgess himself preferred. Of course, his decision to have his clothing custom-made was not entirely voluntary, whereas the woman standing before him had simply chosen to look her best. Fitch's face was fine-featured, if beginning to age ever so slightly, with a fine spray of freckles across her cheekbones; he knew better than to mention these, though. Ever. He was one of the few who knew of her personal distaste for the 'high-brow country girl' comparison; certain parts of him still cringed reflexively at the memory of what she had done to the ex-employee who had voiced it aloud. Fortunately, it was her eyes that drew your attention most easily, making the freckles an easily overlooked afterthought. They were blue and had a commanding, almost haughty, look to them; a look she was now fixing upon him.
"Well, what are you proposing? You know that you can't touch them while the police are investigating you. The company's lawyers are good enough to weave a net of legalities to keep them from arresting you, but they cannot force them to drop the case. After all, the usual rules of detention without charge don't really apply here, seeing as you're not detained."
He growled at the reminder of this nuisance, but took a calming breath. "I realize. But we still have the upper hand. Whatever they were after, they didn't get. I've moved my files into my desk here and cleared the room at the motel of anything they could use, too."
She leaned against her desk, crossing one foot over the other. "Meaning they would have to sneak in here a second time to get at them, giving you a second chance to catch them in the act, which makes them the lawbreakers."
"Exactly."
Fitch smiled approvingly. "You surprise me at times, Tyrone. You're a brute by appearance and a thug by association; yet you've a natural aptitude for strategy that's really quite impressive."
He smiled. "Appearances can be deceiving, right? Sometimes people are overlooked until they discover their talents. Other times nature just plays favourites."
The smile became a smirk. "All men are born equal, but not as equal as you, then, hmm?"
He chuckled quietly. "Something like that."
Standing, she paced around to the opposite side of her desk, closing the laptop. "Well, you've got confidence proportionate to your size, that's for sure. All right. Make whatever changes you need to; I want our security tightened up. I don't want any shady business associated with Icarus Development, but I trust you to handle this the way you want. When those kids try again, I want them caught before they so much as set foot in an elevator."
He nodded, already mulling over the necessary details. "It could be a while before they do, you know. If they're smart, and I know that at least Lawson is, they'll be waiting for us to lower our guard with time."
Fitch smiled back. "Then don't let it lower."
Burgess chuckled again. "Understood."
She walked him to the door of her office, but paused as she held it open for him. "Though, I suppose it is rather late. Your security changes cannot be made until your staff comes in for work. Would you care to join me for dinner?"
"If you can stand my tastes in food."
She laughed quietly. "I honestly believe my maid has been making a list of the ways she can use the ingredients she has on hand for my meals to make ones spicy enough for your palette."
Pulling the door shut behind them, Burgess let her precede him. "Then by all means, let's."
In Icarus' Shadow Page 27
