Everything swung into focus. A chair in the corner. The cedar wood shelving. The portrait of her father. Her small feet covered by the blanket. She sighed. The light seeping from under the door was soft and yellow, and she knew at once they were all there, waiting anxiously for her to emerge from the room.
“Adjust the intake levels, this is mad!” one man said, pointing angrily at the door. “There is no way she could have located this fast. There has to be something we can do.”
Another man hissed curses under his breath, clutching the leather pouch hanging from his belt. The tiny lights illuminating the floorboards hesitated. Someone flicked a switch twice and they steadied, resuming their cold lighting along the edges of the oval room they were in. Isabelle unwound the threads around her fingers, straightened her back and lit a cigarette.
“I’ve located!” she screamed breathlessly. She exhaled. The scanner on her left had gone off the charts once again and she knew her captors would not be pleased. She allowed herself a half-grin, satisfied she had frustrated them. Another drag. A pause. Exhale.
“In light of the current progress, madam, we cannot take her there. She has exceeded our expectations and we simply cannot keep up with her. We have to postpone the location.”
The tall, slender, satin-clad figure standing at the window turned and faced them.
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Thank you for your words. They feed my words, hence everybody's happy.