Publicado por: RedClyde | sexta-feira, 19 dezembro 2008

Just Business

It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions for her.

Each person has his or her own endurance when it comes to discomfort, sure. But anybody would be uncomfortable in this position. And if not anybody, she was willing to bet it was pretty damn close to anybody. Vast majority, ninety-nine percent, if you will.

He had her pinned on the small three-foot wall that was all that separated her from a fifty-story drop to hard cement.

From where she was, half of her body secure on the rooftop and the other half dangling over the side of a skyscraper, she could see most of the city. On the streets below there were the lights and honks of cars, mixed in with the buzz of the pedestrians, creating murmuring sea of colors. It was night, making it exceptionally beautiful. The moonlight reflected on the glass surfaces of the tall skyscrapers that were scattered throughout the city.

On any other day she might have stopped to admire the scenery from up here. On this day, she was a bit preoccupied.

“I hope you realize the situation you are in.” He spoke with a calm voice, yes, but she could visibly see he was making an effort not to let his nervousness make him stammer.

“Oh, I sure do,” she responded. She turned her head a bit so that hey gaze rested on the sidewalk below.

“Then I also h-hope,” he cringed at the stammer, but forced himself to continue, trying not to call attention to his nervous state, “that you have reconsidered the deal.”

“Trust me, I have.” she said. “For this little stunt… I’m doubling the price.” She had to keep herself from smiling. Not a good idea to provoke your aggressor, especially when he’s the only thing keeping you from your untimely death. But oh well. She couldn’t resist.

He pushed her over a little more, and she gasped despite of herself. She was keeping a straight face, but it’s not like on the inside she was calm. Far from that, actually. Her heart was racing. But hell would freeze over before she would allow this man to get any satisfaction out of this.

I mean, damn, he seemed more nervous than her.

“I could let you go r-right now!” he threatened. Blood rushed to his face at the outburst, leaving it bright red. “Trust me! I’d d-do it!”

“No, you wouldn’t.” was the simple reply.

The man looked even angrier, but he didn’t scream as loud this time around.

“What?” he exclaimed.

“You wouldn’t kill me. Because you know that as soon as they find my dead body, they’re going to publish those files. They’ll know it was you, and you know that.”

“What files?” There was now worry in his voice. His face became paler and the anger was subdued, if not gone.

“You know what files.” Again, she had to keep herself from smirking. It was so much fun messing with a lower mind that it was almost worth hanging from the side of a skyscraper. Almost. “A-4, two years ago. That Rod case two months ago. And who can forget you and the mayor? There are more, of course. Any of this ring a bell?”

Worry now turned to panic.

“You w-wouldn’t do that, you couldn’t!”

“I’d be dead, but it’d happen. And with those out, your company’s going downhill. I’d give danger of bankruptcy a few weeks, bankruptcy itself a month or two. You yourself will be dead, not from natural causes I assure, and with nothing to will to anybody.”

“If I throw you down there, I’m finished… but if I don’t and leave here, you’ll have me k-killed anyway.”

“That’s right.” Tch. Wrong answer.

“I have no options!”

Uh-oh. Now it was getting dangerous. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone as far as she did. If the man lost all hope and succumbed to despair, knowing he’d lose no matter what he did, he might decide to throw her off. He wouldn’t last long afterwards, sure, but the damage would be done.

However, something that appeared behind the man relaxed her. All worry was gone.

“You bastard…!” there were tears rolling down his cheek. She felt his hands tighten around her neck. Respiration became harder. “You d-destroyed my life. You forced this deal on me, one you knew I c-couldn’t make good on. I wouldn’t be surprised if y-you set this whole thing up today.”

Through gritted teeth, making use of what oxygen she had left, she said: “Trust me, my original intention sure wasn’t to hang from a skyscraper being held on by a maniac.”

“I’m g-going to kill you!”

She knew that was it. That was the last straw. She had pushed him too far. He was going to release her now, and she would plummet, with increasing speed, down towards the cement. If a car were to conveniently place itself on the landing spot, she would promptly crash through it. Maybe not, though. She could just hit the hard cement. With some luck a sensitive area like the neck or back would land square on the curb. That might hurt a bit more.

Or, all of that could have happened, if her aggressor actually had the chance to throw her. From the moment he uttered ‘I’m going to kill you’, a shot was fired. A soundless shot, yes, but a shot nonetheless.

The force with which something hits something else doesn’t depend solely on mass. If that were the case, a bullet would cause no harm to anyone, ever. But that isn’t the case. It depends on a relation between mass and speed. The bullet’s mass may be small, but its velocity, when fired from a gun, is extremely high. The impact it made when it hit her aggressor’s back threw him over the wall and plummeting down the side of the skyscraper. Sure enough, he landed back first on the curb. Damn, that must have hurt.

However, she wasn’t out of the water yet. She was mostly over the wall, and would have plummeted herself had a pair of hands not grabbed her feet and pulled her back up. Finally having a chance to sit down, she did, and sighed heavily, relieved. She looked up at her rescuer.

“Sorry I was late.” Her partner said.

“That sentence is a tad cliché.” she stood up, dusting her pants off. “I told myself this morning that somebody was falling off this rooftop. For a moment there I thought it was going to be me.”

The man walked to the edge and looked down. A crowd had formed, like ants, around the fallen body. There were some pointing up. A police car was pulling up.

“You gave him the blackmail story?” he asked.


“We don’t have any files, do we?”

“We never do.”

“So now their president’s gone…”

“With the confusion that’s going to temporarily overrun his agency, we could force the deal through,” she replied, “with huge benefit to our side, of course.”

He looked up at her.

“The authorities are here.” He warned.

“Let’s bail. I’d rather not explain how or why a man fell from a skyscraper.” She commented.

“We won’t get caught.”

“We never do.”



  1. a pergunta que não quer calar é:

    qual o ponto de escrever em inglês?

  2. Precisa ter ponto? Eu prefiro o inglês ao português, só isso.

  3. I think you repeated plummet a bit too much in the mid-part. Do you think you could substitute one? And “put out of the water” is a new expression. One to the book, I say.

    She’s got such a different personality than your other female characters. That’s nice!

  4. É? Nem lembro. Acho que escrevi isso anos atrás. =P

  5. a pergunta que não quer calar é:

    qual o ponto de escrever em inglês?[2]

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