Conversation · Metal Grille Door

No, that's just slightly burnt coffee. A smell you would recognise anywhere.

"Just look at this pig, sniffing about after-hours..."

"Hey, it's past curfew! Get to bed, Cindy!"

"Go ahead and arrest me, officer. I swear I'll go peacefully." You can feel her smirk through the dark.

The metal grille is cool to the touch.

You notice the lieutenant is looking uncustomarily anxious. His posture is rigid, his right hand hovers near the zipper of his jacket.

He wants so badly to draw his Armistice, but he also doesn't want to want to draw it.

"Relax, they're only communists."

"Something's not right here. The equation doesn't quite balance..." He taps his foot and takes a deep breath.

"Which is just to say: We should be prepared for any eventuality."

"You okay, Kim?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I was practically born to infiltrate underground communist cells..." He takes a quick look over his shoulder.

Say nothing.

"Well, detective. It seems we've located your underground cell..." He looks over the balcony, down toward the water.

"Why didn't you say the secret door was right behind you?"

"Must have slipped my mind. You know how it goes." She gives you a lackadaisical shrug.

(Ignore her.)