[sub][sub][h3][i]Regalia - Rana's Labyrinth[/i][/h3][/sub][/sub][hr]

[indent]
Devi stood up from her chair as the men came in, letting the pen fall to her desk.  There were three of them, tall and shadowy in the dimmed light she preferred for working in the evenings.  A bespectacled man, older, with thinning hair and cold, lifeless eyes, carrying a laptop computer.  A dark-skinned man who took up position by the door and kept his hands out of sight.  And Him.

Afterward, she couldn't recall what he had looked like.  Handsome.  Confident.  Neither young nor old.  His perfect, pressed black suit, his sapphire cufflinks, his expensive, black Italian leather gloves... his voice.  All these things were as vivid to her as the moment she'd first seen them.  But his face.  That would never sit still in her memory.

"I'm sorry, how did you get in here?" She looked from one of them to the other. "Do you have an appointment?"

"My colleagues and I are representatives of your employer, Ms Rana," the well-dressed man assured her, walking slowly around to her side of the desk, unhurried, as comfortable as if he owned the place. "[i]Direct[/i] representatives.  I'm afraid we need to take a look at your records for the last quarter."

The older man had plugged in his computer and was pulling volumes from her shelves.  The man in front of her took the tablet from her desk and handed it to him without a word.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?" Devi chirped, "No, [i]please[/i] don't touch that."  The man in black, the leader, he was standing close to her now, blocking her view, exuding casual, expensive power.  Some deep, instinctive part of her knew immediately that she was badly out of her depth.  Treading water.  Slowly sinking.  "Who... What-- precisely... is...?"

"This?"  The man smiled, patiently.  Fondly.  "This is what I suppose you'd call an 'audit'.  You know what that is, right Devi?  There have been some rumors going around, [i]tenacious[/i] rumors.  And it's fallen to me, and to my associates, to confirm their... [i]veracity[/i]."

His arm was around her, warm muscle tight beneath his impeccable suit sleeve, turning her and guiding her gently toward the full-scale window that overlooked the city.  Devi found herself meekly following along, suddenly feeling like a cowed, obedient child in uncomfortable, expensive clothes, tottering on unstable heels.

"Well.  I should be honest with you.  You see, these rumors...   Really they were more like [i]accusations[/i]."

"I assure you, if there's been some problem with the account, I'm certain I can--"

"Shhh..." One soft, gloved finger touched her lips, gently. "Hush.  Now, for these things to have happened, if they DID happen... there are certain people who simply had to know.  Basic deduction.  I do have colleagues who prefer a more street-level approach.  Canvassing.  Testing links until one of them breaks.  But me?  I got where I am today through knowing how operations like this work.  I know just who to visit.  Just the right places to push."

There was an uncomfortable emphasis on the word [i]push[/i].

"Look out the window, Devi."

She looked.

The city glared beneath them like a fairground carousel, beaming with light and artifice.  She thought of riding painted, plastic horses as a little girl.  As a young woman, drunk.  Cotton candy.  Stuffed animals.  Becoming lost afterwards in the dark maze of sideshow tents, alone and terrified.  The gaudy panorama seemed to tilt, tempting her downward, setting her head spinning with vertigo.  Her stomach dropped.  She found herself blinking back tears, breathing shallowly through parted lips.

"Look at that.  Look at that view.  All those people.  All those moving parts.  All those flickering lights.  That's ours, Devi.  That's what we're responsible for, and that's what we have to offer.  And it's beautiful, isn't it?  Hell, every time I come to a place like this and look out at that fairytale landscape, I can't quite believe just how good we really have it."

His gloved hand was resting on the back of her neck, now, keeping her face toward the glass.  She licked her lips, staring downward. 

"I--"

"But some people, Devi?  Some people can't appreciate what's right there in front of them.  Can't take the longer view."

"I don't--"

"Some people," he murmured softly by her ear, "like the backstabbing [i]piece of shit[/i] who sat in that chair of yours three months ago..."

She made a soft, shaking whimpering sound somewhere deep in her chest.  The man's presence loomed behind her, a shadow reflected in the windowpane, one strong, warm hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.  The other hand pressed firmly against her back, slowly edging her toward the glass.  She could barely hear him over the roaring of blood in her ears.

"...Some people need a [i]closer look[/i]."

	"She's clean."

The elegant gloved hand lifted, paused above her shoulder.  There was a tense silence.

"You're [i]sure[/i]?"

	In the window, she saw the cold-eyed man remove his spectacles and polish them on his sleeve.  "Airtight." he replied.  "Meticulous, even."

"...Finish up." He said at last. "We have another stop to make."

The dark reflections completed their work, replacing documents, closing laptops.  And then they were gone, leaving her alone with the warm presence behind her in the now terrifyingly empty office.  Black-gloved hands came to rest on her shoulders, soft leather creaking as he squeezed, gently, reassuringly.

'Ms Rana," crooned his rich, promising voice, "Thank you for your cooperation, your professionalism, and your continued loyalty to our organization."  

His arm reached around in front of her, offering something.

"The Syndicate would like you to have this.  As a gesture of personal appreciation, and... recompense.  For your time."

It was a compressed brick of fifty-dollar bills, bound tightly with a strip of stamped golden paper.  Devi stared at it as though it were the barrel of a gun.

"Take the money, Ms Rana." the voice advised, soothingly, "I think you'll find it'll be a load off both of our minds."

"Y[i]es--[/i]  Yes.  Thank you," she whispered, hoarsely.  A single tear spilled from her eye and rolled down her cheek as her slim brown hand closed around the bills.  "Thank you.  I enjoy my work, very much."

"I'm glad, Devi.  Because as nice as it would be to see you again..." He leaned toward her, his breath warm against her ear. "...I don't ever want to have to come back here."

Two leather-clad fingertips brushed against her hair one last time.  And then the shadow in the glass stepped backward, and the door to her office closed, and she was alone with the view.

It was a good fifteen minutes before she was able to tear herself away. [/indent] 


[hr]

[indent]
She counted the bills rapidly, neurotically, flicking through the stack with trembling hands, making a note of the amount.  It didn't matter what had happened, everything had to be recorded.  The books had to be balanced.  She was a professional and professionals did not produce sloppy work over one little near-death experience.

Her hand briefly hesitated over the 'deposit type' field.  

After a moment's consideration she entered 'Professional Incentive,' and reached desperately for the phone, punching in [b]Alexander Ariella [Security][/b] on the speed-dial and waiting.

"...Mister Ariella?  This is Devi Rana in accounting." Her voice was shaking already.  [i]God, perhaps try to control yourself, perhaps try to sound like a bloody grown-up for a change.[/i]  "I'm very sorry to disturb you, but I was told that if anything [i]unusual[/i] happened I was to call you at once before I did anything else.  ...Yes.  ...Well, I've just had some people from..." 

Cellphone.

"...from [i]human resources[/i] in my office.  They were very upset about rumors of some sort of under-the-table business transactions and I think...  I think that they were very seriously considering [i]terminating my contract[/i].

"Yes, JUST like that.

"Safe what?

"No, actually I [i]don't[/i] know it."

She walked to a nearby shelf, slipped a white plastic folder from between two heavy, leather-bound books.  She cradled the phone against her shoulder, flipping through it.

"Yes, alright, I see it.  ...Is that really necessary?  ...Yes, no, you're quite right.  ...Yes, I'll be there soon.  Thank you."

She ended the call, took six deep, controlled breaths, fixed her eyeliner, buttoned her maroon overcoat and slung her scarf around her neck.  It was cold, after all.  And she had an unpleasant feeling it was only going to get colder.[/indent]