Wing-tipped clacks echoed from the tiled floor as Maurice made his way down the hall. Slightly more than a stub was smoking in his mouth and the cocksure grin he wore was the sign that he was pleased with himself. He turned into an office on the right and took a seat at the desk at the other end of the room. His chair was big and expensive looking, a byproduct of ascending rank and maintaining the executive image. Everything on the desk itself was meticulously organized, papers and folders neatly placed into a multi-level set of plastic shelves and a phone and computer monitor perfectly centered next to one another—it really was a rather large desk. 

He pulled an ornate ashtray closer to the desk’s edge and set his stub within it before pulling out the hidden keyboard via a tray under the desk. The monitor awakened quickly and just as he was set to begin typing out an email, a knock on the door broke the silence. “Yeah, I’m here,” Maurice answered without looking up. The door creaked open to reveal a shorter man dressed in an off-the-rack suit and a serious visage. He had brown hair professionally styled and was on the younger side—clearly nothing more than a member of the rank and file. He stepped just a ways beyond the door, but made sure to enter no further. “Tell him we’re good to go. Then make the call,” Maurice said, again without looking up. The younger man nodded and quickly shuffled out of the office. 

Maurice leaned back in his chair and exhaled. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but he had been left with little choice. He had always been serious about his position and the organization was the important aspect in his life. He would always do anything for the Syndicate. A palm ran down his face before he straightened up and picked up the phone. Whoever was on the other end seemed to answer immediately. “It’s done,” Maurice said quietly. “I had to involve a second person though… It’s more believable that way. No… No, they’re nobody important. Name’s Mia Winter. She’s new from what I read so it was the perfect opportunity. No, not yet. This is a long game…. Trust me, if we rush this, he’ll see it coming easily. Yeah. Yeah. Alright, I’ll keep you looped in.” 

The phone clicked back into place. Maurice sighed again and turned around to face the window behind him. The view was gorgeous during the sunset.

[center]*   *   *   *[/center]

Alvin reappeared at the bottom of the stairs and stopped just past the stanchions. The posted security still gave him a weird look, but they knew better than to say anything to someone who had been allowed past that point. The man himself surveyed the area as he began a slow walk through the throngs of people. It still didn’t make much sense. He had been sent to The Club because it was supposedly bleeding money, but the crowds told another story. There were way too many people on the first floor alone for that to be true. Then again, he hadn’t checked the other floors, but that would have to come later. Right now, he had to get to the bar. 

Alvin moved past crazed dancers and more subdued alcoholics as he crossed the wide girth of dance floor and flashing lights. Old memories began to return and he recalled his old days managing The Club and how he would slack off from time to time and just enjoy himself. In his earlier days, he had been quite the party animal himself. He was still young by all accounts, but his years working as an executive had given him a new perspective. He silently wondered just how naive he had been back then. Though the music was blaring and the atmosphere was enough to get anyone’s blood pumping, he saw it all as insignificant. How could these people know what they were missing though? They were just drones being used for the money they willingly threw away on booze, among other things. He shook his head as the bar came into view. 

There were several bartenders scurrying around handling requests and doing their jobs in general and in was in that moment that Alvin realized he had never been given a description of his target. Just a name. He sighed, though no one could hear it over the loud music and pushed past more patrons to take a place at the counter itself. None of the staff noticed him. To them, he was just another customer either already drinking or currently holding up the counter because he was too afraid to find a partner on the dance floor. Finally, he stopped a man on his way to give someone else a drink. “Hey, do you know a Mia Winter?” He asked. The man simply shook his head and kept going. This wasn’t going to work. 

Alvin took a quick look around before hopping over the counter itself and heading towards the back area. Things may have changed, but the chiller had to be in the same place, right? Besides, what else would veteran staff have a newbie do, but grunt work? It was obvious. Alvin pocketed his hands and walked straight into the back room, the busyness of the bar covering him from prying eyes. It wasn’t long before he saw a young-looking female unpacking boxes. “Hey,” He started, elevating his voice just enough for her to hear, but trying to keep it calm and kind-sounding. He looked around as if he were lost. 

“I could have sworn someone said the bathroom was back here, but uh… Looks like I was wrong, huh?”