"Well, this is embarrassing," said Murray, handing back the package. "I realise you've come a long way, but I'm afraid your journey has been wasted." He semi-shrugged apologetically, rocking on his heels as he looked from one to the other. Corinne frowned, passing the carefully bound items to Donal, and rested a fist on Murray's desk.
"I'm not sure I understand..."
"She's retired," explained Murray. "Long gone, apparently. Your information is quite out-of-date if you were hoping to meet her here."
Donal hefted his shoulder bag and studied the ornate light fittings, deciding to let Corinne deal with this one. He was tired and desperate for a coffee. They'd passed a place on the way there, briefly discussed stopping, but carried on regardless. If regret had a flavour, he decided, it was probably derived from an absence of beans.
"Do you have a forwarding address, or the name of a contact? Anything?"
Murray sighed.
"I'm afraid not. Given the nature of our work here, employees tend not to share those sorts of details." He seemed ready to resume his seat and dismiss them forthwith, but Corinne wasn't prepared to let him do that.
"Listen, Murray is it? Murray. We have come a long way, you're right. I can't even begin to tell you what we've been through just to get this far. It would blow your mind. The petty bureacracies, the data jams, the sheer absolute walls of stone we've had to blow through...to be honest, it'd make a grail quest look like an afternoon spent pursuing a replacement slacks button."
"For a really weird pair of slacks," interjected Donal.
"But we're here now," continued Corinne, "And this is not how it's going to end, do you understand?"
Murray didn't really look as though he understood. If anything, he looked slightly bemused, bordering on perturbed. And when Corinne pulled the dagger from the sheath beside her right hip, he looked downright frightened.
"We need more from you, Murray," said Corinne, slowly waving the dagger in front of the man's face. "More than you've given us so far. Which, to be frank, has been fuck all."
On their way back to the Alfasud 902 in the car park, Corinne wiped the blood off her dagger with Donal's proffered handkerchief, and muttered something unintelligible under her breath.
"Say again?"
"Next time, we really need to consider a combination of torture and logistics courier much earlier in the game. It'd save a lot of time and heartache."
Donal nodded, fishing the keys out of his pocket, and paused to study her.
"Would you like to drive?"
"Hell, no."
"Can we stop for coffee?"
She glanced back at him and smiled.
"Sure."
To be continued.
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