” “motive.” Use the word “motive,” in any form, in your post. ”
Sounds reasonably simple, let’s go…
The Accumulator, part forty three.
Scene: A hospital maternity department. It is forty two years ago.
A man wearing a black trench coat and black leather gloves, holding a tightly furled umbrella, stands at an observation window and watches as a nurse enters the nursery and approaches a pair of cots which are separated from the others by a curtain.
She checks the charts on the end of each and turns to look at the man outside. He nods and the nurse moves to the left-hand cot, gently picks up the sleeping baby and, gathering the blankets around it, carries it out of the room and hurries after the man as he strides down the corridor and through the double doors.
The camera stays on the doors until they swing shut after the nurse, then slowly pans round to the observation window.
We move closer, until we are at the window, then the shot tightens on the only occupied cot behind the curtain and suddenly, by the magic of editing, we are directly above it, looking down at the baby, whose eyes are now open and staring straight back up at us.
And now we move closer, the shot tightening until the baby’s face, then just the eyes, then one, pale blue eye fills the screen. The director holds on this image for a couple of seconds, then the shot slowly widens, soon revealing that we’ve been tricked by another fancy bit of editing.
The blue eyes are now those of the woman who looks like Cathy and who is looking coldly at Dorn from across the desk.
“Judging from your report, it seems that this collection of thugs and criminals have managed to repeatedly outwit and evade your own department, several police forces here and in Europe, Interpol, Special Branch and the intelligence services, did I leave anyone out?”
“No, sir, I think you have the gist of it.” (he had only made the mistake of calling her ma’am once)
“And you understand my motive for wanting these dangerous terrorists brought to justice?”
“Yes, sir, I do, it was just unfortunate that…”
She doesn’t let him finish, her hand suddenly slams down on the desk, she fixes him with those icy blue eyes and speaks in a low, flat voice
“I want the man who murdered my sister, do you understand me? I don’t want to hear about mistakes or listen to excuses, I want you to find them and bring them to me.”
“Of course, I can only apologise for the delay. As I say, we have them now, they will be picked up this evening, a team has already been despatched.”
“Then I need not detain you any longer, unless there was something else…?”
“No, no, thank you, that’s all.”
Dorn stands up and nods respectfully to the woman, who has looked down at a file on her desk and seems unaware of his continued presence. He retraces his steps across the room to the door, which the guard already has open for him and steps out into the concrete hallway. The heavy steel door clangs shut behind him and he lets out a sigh before glancing at his watch and heading for the door at the far end of the corridor and his waiting driver.
“With any luck, I might even make it in time for the end of the shoot…”
To be continued (using next week’s prompt)…