They’re of no consequence for what you’re being hired for.” She paused to make sure TJ and Blade were paying attention. “Your job will be to kidnap one Damero Edkos, better know as Darkos Edge. He’s a ..” TJ cut her off. “Darkos Edge?! The guitarist for Cannibal Lighthouse?!” Blade watched TJ’s face. His features had taken on almost a reverence, if such a word could ever be used in a sentence about TJ.
“He has possession a particular item that does not belong to him. I am asking you to kidnap him, retrieve the article from it’s hiding place, and return the item to me. I will pay your normal fee, plus a bonus, incremental to the number of days before next Sunday that you present me with the item.” “So the faster you get it the more we get as a bonus. Nice incentive.” TJ entwined his fingers and rested them on a knee. “What’s the item?”
Irelle glanced at Blade again, who tried to make herself look small. The sorceress smiled then turned back to TJ. “A bell, about the size of your two hands together.” She raised her right hand languidly. “A small straight rod about as long as a index finger, should also be with the bell. And before you say that’s two pieces, it is not. That is the clapper for the bell.” She reached to her waist, and pulled out a small pouch. She dropped a series of data sticks on the table. “Your fee, plus ten percent for travel expenses. Prove to me you’re as good as your arrogance attempts to imply. Bring me the bell, in total, by Sunday next.”
Irelle smiled, then looked over at Blade. “Be careful, he’s a Humanity First sympathizer. His security team is made up of their members.” TJ gave a curt nod to Blade as the sorceress glided out of the room, the missile mages following her. The door floated off the ground, then settled in the doorway, the doorknob, locks, and hinges still lying on the wood floor. Blade got up from the couch, and stalked into her small room. She stepped to the tool kit, and shifted her shoulder. The cables flicked forward grabbing a flat blade screwdriver and a Phillip’s head.
She walked back into the main room, her feet moving in tense, measured steps until she reached the door. Her right hand reached out, grabbing the hole that the doorknob assembly fit, and yanked. The door shifted, then fell flat with a loud bang. Blade savagely grabbed the hinges, her metal limbs working to straighten the bent plates and screw them back onto the door. Her metal appendage stretched out, cables writhing like the heads on a hydra, grabbing the doorknob, disassembling it then threading the two pieces back onto the door, and screwing it in place. Her left arm grabbed the dead-bolt, steel tentacles scrabbling on the metal and the screwdriver removing the screws. It was slammed into position and screwed into place. TJ watched all of this with silence, letting Blade work out her fear and anger on the door.
Blade worked fast and viciously, and the door was soon back in place, with a few new gouges in the wood from flailing screwdrivers and cybernetic cables. She rounded on TJ, then stomped back over to the far end of the couch, and sat down. A shaking hand pulled out a cigarette pack. She tore the foil open and shook the pack, a cable with a small grasper snagged the paper and tobacco tube, and held it to her lips. A small pocket lighter appeared from her pocket. She clicked the electric striker, and a green flame stretched an inch upwards. Blade leaned back and drew deeply. Her head tilted back as twin clouds of smoke issued from her nostrils.