Ficly

Rain

It was raining. Rain was the only time the organization heads met. Too dangerous in clear weather.

Joey was a nobody. Just another grunt hired for security. No one should be bother the organization today, not in this part of town. It would be easy money.

Joey watched from under the doorway as some chick made her way through the rain. A local, he thought. No coat, so she must have been caught outside when it started. She passed him, and he checked her out. There was something written on the seat of her pants, but he couldn’t quite read it. As he glanced away, something else caught his eye.

There was a dry patch on the pavement.

He peered through the rain. He could almost make out a shape being traced by the raindrops. A car-shape. A cloaker.

“COPS!” he yelled, drawing his gun.
It was already too late. The building was surrounded.

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