I feel like my style shifts from post to post. I guess I'm still trying to find my narrative voice. :(
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"Towel?" Icard glanced up. His head of security held out the paper product. Icard realized the moisture still clinging to his face and accepted.
ZACHARY COULTON, 42, waited patiently for his employer to finish drying. Decades of serving in the security force of many a high profile client earned him a level of gravitude and poise that even the threat of an explosion at his feet could not shake. Not to ignore the childhood history of trauma and tragedy, but that is a story for another time.
Icard slipped ARKHOS into his lab coat pocket. "Talk to me, Coulton."
"There are two persons attempting to access the restricted corridor, sir. Side door security detail Adrian Bawes and front desk assistant Jessica Narowe."
Narowe? The girl he'd fired earlier. "Go on."
"I've sent ahead men to collect them. I can have them installed in the lower conference rooms if you wish to question them."
Icard felt deeply threatened. First, the restricted corridor actually led to his own private rooms, where he personally programmed the most essential components of ARKHOS. Second, the attempted access by Narowe seemed like vengeful behavior on the part of the probably distressed girl. But that didn't quite make sense. Both Bawes and Narowe were well-aware that no one but Icard could access the restricted corridor (because of this, he ended up having to double as janitor for his rooms). It would be a useless gesture.
"Something is wrong," the doctor murmured and proceeded in the direction of the said corridor, Coulton closely behind. Flickers of shadows chased them as the pair passed under each set of lights. Shouting. A gun shot.
"Sir, stay behind me." Coulton raced ahead, pistol in hand, Icard quickening his pace.
A guard materialized around the corner, running towards them. "Get ba-"
A tremendous gust slammed into them. Coulton somehow turned in that last second and shielded Icard. The sound of popcorn popping magnified a hundred times reached their ears. They hit the marble floor as a cloud of shrapnel, flame, and smoke gushed through the narrow halls.
346 words.
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Going traveling for the next couple weeks. Be back soon!
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