Doors and More Doors
The city's bright lights swirl around you as you dizzily get up from the ground. The man takes off the parachute and starts walking in a certain direction. You look up and there is not one star visible in the sky. The moon propels a white glow that makes the lot a bit more illuminated. Your vision is fuzzy, but you see purple and yellow and orange and blue and red. The man turns around and looks at you. "C'mon," he says. "I have a lot to explain to you." You remain unmoving, however. You demand an explanation. "Do you know who I am? Why am I here?" you ask. He chuckles. "They must have knocked you out cold," he says charmingly and kneels down on the pavement. You hobble over to him and sit close to him. He faces perpendicular to you and takes out a cigarette.
"You're the most well known spy of the 21st century, Amiri Drake." He lights it and takes a long sigh. "I was on an elite task force -- you hear those words far too often these days -- to take you out once and for all." You notice his lips are dry and his bear is badly shaven. His voice is slightly raspy, but you would only be able to notice after talking to him for a little while. He frowns. "You agreed to pay us a sum of money in exchange for your life. To save yourself. A last resort. We were gonna take it and run, use to to buy supply ships or something or other. We were instructed to kill you. Me and a few others on the force are originally from a different sector of the Singaporean government. One that's not... corrupt. Many were caught. Only about 3 from our originally 8 are left. The task force is 17 strong, so... so..." He stops. He's done talking. He shuffles around in his spot, using his hand to lift himself up and then back down. You yawn. "What's your name?" you ask. He gets it out. "Cheejun." He turns his head towards the city. "Shit."
You sit in silence for 3 minutes or so. "What's the plan?" comes from your mouth rapidly at once. "What will we do?" You're nervous. People are on the hunt for you. Cheejun shrugs. His cigarette is halfway done. "The task force is probably out to get you. The city could mean certain death or certain life. You never know. They probably have your face. They've never seen your face before, you know. Neither has anyone, I'm not sure if you remember." he spits out. You stumble over your words in your response: "That's not me. It's not me. He's not me, I mean." Cheejun starts chuckling. He tends to do that. "That's great, isn't it?" he asks. "Yeah," you say.
Cheejun lifts his head and scratches his stubby beard. Then, he clears his throat and opens his mouth. "Who are you, then?" he asks. You shuffle and tell him your name. He looks impressed, for some reason. "Are we running away, or going into the city?" he asks, turning his head to face the neon lights shifting and moving far away.
"You're the most well known spy of the 21st century, Amiri Drake." He lights it and takes a long sigh. "I was on an elite task force -- you hear those words far too often these days -- to take you out once and for all." You notice his lips are dry and his bear is badly shaven. His voice is slightly raspy, but you would only be able to notice after talking to him for a little while. He frowns. "You agreed to pay us a sum of money in exchange for your life. To save yourself. A last resort. We were gonna take it and run, use to to buy supply ships or something or other. We were instructed to kill you. Me and a few others on the force are originally from a different sector of the Singaporean government. One that's not... corrupt. Many were caught. Only about 3 from our originally 8 are left. The task force is 17 strong, so... so..." He stops. He's done talking. He shuffles around in his spot, using his hand to lift himself up and then back down. You yawn. "What's your name?" you ask. He gets it out. "Cheejun." He turns his head towards the city. "Shit."
You sit in silence for 3 minutes or so. "What's the plan?" comes from your mouth rapidly at once. "What will we do?" You're nervous. People are on the hunt for you. Cheejun shrugs. His cigarette is halfway done. "The task force is probably out to get you. The city could mean certain death or certain life. You never know. They probably have your face. They've never seen your face before, you know. Neither has anyone, I'm not sure if you remember." he spits out. You stumble over your words in your response: "That's not me. It's not me. He's not me, I mean." Cheejun starts chuckling. He tends to do that. "That's great, isn't it?" he asks. "Yeah," you say.
Cheejun lifts his head and scratches his stubby beard. Then, he clears his throat and opens his mouth. "Who are you, then?" he asks. You shuffle and tell him your name. He looks impressed, for some reason. "Are we running away, or going into the city?" he asks, turning his head to face the neon lights shifting and moving far away.