Two Mercs: Part Three

The TV in the one-room flat was flicking between a webcam porn channel and a live death-match, female screams filling the room whenever the death-match was on. Trying to sleep on the ratty bed in the corner of the rectangular flat Emily rolled over to escape the sounds and light, facing towards the wall and its splitting wallpaper, before sighing in frustration and rolling back over.
"Turn that shit off Dave."
Seated at the sofa facing the TV Dave turned his head to glance at her, switching the channel back to the webcam, and nodded towards the machine.
"Better?"
Emily glanced at the TV, watching some whore fondle herself, before sighing again.
"Turn it all off. We've got lots of things to do tomorrow." She hated how croaky her voice was, even a week after she'd nearly been strangled whilst poisoning a businessman in a backroom of the Principessa Tempesta. Up-city security firms were supposedly searching for her but they were looking for a platinum-blonde they knew only the stage-name of, not a low-city girl with warm brown hair like she was. The room descended into semi-darkness when Dave switched off the TV, now only lit by the lights of the busy street outside, and he rose to shuffle around the flat, moving towards the bed before she shook her head. "On the sofa Dave."
"You shouldn't have accepted that job. You had no problem with me before then."
Emily huffed, spinning to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling.
"We need money, Dave, and this is a recurring client. I had no choice." The man fell silent and Emily glanced over to see him making his way back to the sofa. He was worried about her, and the series of jobs they seemed to have picked up recently, and she could see it in his stance. "We'll make the next one the last we do for our current client."

The deactivation of the neon signs in the street and the plunging of the flat into a deeper darkness woke both Dave and Emily at the start of a new day. Groaning the man rolled from the sofa, falling to the floor with a soft thud, before standing and crossing to the flat's light switch.
"Lights on Em." The switch clicked when pressed but the light above the sofa remained dark and Dave swore, pressing the switch a couple more times before giving up. "Never mind. I'll add the lighting to the list of things we can spend this money we'll be getting on."
Emily rose from the bed, wincing at the bitterness in Dave's voice, and made her way to the kitchenette opposite the bed, going through a cupboard and pulling out a box.
"Just stop Dave. You must have gone through rough patches before."
"Have you High-born? Do you want to feel hungry all the time?"
Slowly lowering the box she'd been eating from Emily glared at where Dave was standing, her artificial eyes easily letting her see through the darkness.
"As I said last night then. This'll be the last job for Mr Shadow."

The pair left the flat as the street below came back to life, the morning traffic appearing only an hour after the night-lifers retreated indoors. The low-city never really slept, unlike the up-city, and only the faces changed as night became day. Walking around the van, checking it for any unwanted surprises, Emily looked up when she heard voices, glaring at the three children looking down at her from atop the vehicle.
"Get down."
She felt pity for the street urchins, having had a better upbringing than they could probably imagine, but it was her van, not their plaything. The click of a cocking gun made two of the children disappear and the remaining one turned to look at Dave and the pistol in his hand.
"You heard the lady kid. Get down." There was a brief pause before the visible child coaxed his friends down and Dave waved the gun at them, scaring them off into the crowd. "We'll have to check the roof at some point now."

---

The roads surrounding the city of London, named generations ago the Great Ringroad, were virtually empty until they rose to the levels of the up-city. Flashing a hacked ident-card at an automatic barrier dividing the two sections Emily guided the van into the morning rush hour. The van stood out among the modern cars, each of which were basically stamped out rather than be lovingly handmade, and both Dave and Emily sneered at the conformity around them. Turning off after rising a few levels Dave pulled a battered map from a compartment, opening it up and trying to locate where they were.
"The tablet's in the back. You'll have more luck with that."
"Modern electronics can be traced. Especially outside the low-city."
"Luddite."

Emily parked the van beneath a mid-sized tower, advertising itself as a location renting out meeting rooms, that straddled the elevated road, resting her chin on the steering wheel and looking at the building's eastern entrance.
"Hamlet Tower Conferences. This is the place."
"You sure? Looks too normal for anything involving Mr Shadow."
Emily thought back to the messages she'd exchanged with their client, from whose contact details they'd got his nickname, whilst preparing for the jobs he had planned for them.
"I'm sure. You were to dead-drop the document folder at the Westminster Ruins. I had to collect the poisoned wine from the Old Bailey estate. And then we were to come here."
Dave frowned, leaning back in his seat, before finally shrugging in acceptance and opening his door.
"If this is what Mr Shadow wants then who are we to disappoint."