"Give me the coat," Rory said. A light in his hand, his face glowing vile.

Ramona shrugged it off and immediately Rory was repulsed.

"What horror, girl, you are covered in blood." Rory reached out and pinched her shirt, in which Ramona immediately slapped his hand off. He took his light and let it reflect off all the weapons she had on her person. "You look like death's traveling merchant."

Ramona laughed at that one, feeling oddly proud of that. Admittedly, she wouldn't mind such a nickname. "I think I'll keep the coat on."

"You should give me your weapons."

Reminiscent of the same command she gave Leif, however, she was not a hostage. "I don't think so."

Rory sighed and shrugged. It wasn't a battle worth fighting. Ramona was adamant. "Well, you cannot go in wearing that shirt. I don't believe the prince has gotten surgery, and we would not let the newcomer handle his blood."

What did that mean? She shook it off and buttoned up her coat. "Then what's your plan?"

"You are to be my assistant. I will get you a new shirt and you will change so you do not horrify the rest of the staff. Like your old partner, you will be mute." He grinned.

"I wouldn't count on it."

"I better be able to."

"Oh please," she scoffed. "I won't do anything to damage your reputation. Sadly, the way these fools eyes' sparkle when they see you is beneficial to me as well."

"Fine. But you follow my lead." He wasn't great at winning battles without leverage, she noticed. Surely it aggravated him that she had the crown and now saw the entrance. Theoretically, she could do it alone. It'd be a flash-bang moment, near impossible and surely resulting in her own death, but that didn't mean she couldn't try and just kill him right now.

The curator pushed her in front of him and immediately shoved her to the left. The world went from the dark crags of a tunnel system to linoleum floors and an almost kitchen-like atmosphere. She was pushed into what appeared to be a closet, where plain colored shirts and pants lay - uniforms.

"Change. At least the shirt. And stash the coat and guns and other weapons you have."

With a grimace, Ramona shrugged off the jacket. She didn't want him to be right, but he was. She would certainly seem suspicious walking around with a coat on.

Ramona didn't like changing in front of men. Nowadays, she didn't like changing in front of people at all. She backed herself into a corner and unbuttoned her coat, making sure to keep her eye on him so that he didn't make any move toward her weapons, money, or the crown. Looking at all the shirts, she tried to find one that fit her the way she liked them fit. Most of them looked like tight, starch pieces of crap, then she found a burgundy military looking one that was a size larger than her.

"So, what's the plan?"

Ramona dropped the shirt over her shoulder and slipped out of her old one. It swung like her old blouse, though it smelled like starch and ammonia. She removed her holster and sling, then wrapped it up in the coil, tucking it into her coat. Not comfortable without any weapon, she buttoned the new shirt around her gun tucked into the back of her pants. She left the knife tucked into her boot alone.

Facing away from Rory, she glanced at the crown. Small and delicate, worth a lot on its own. She could have left it with the coat, but he'd likely steal it. "Do you even have one?" she asked, trying to keep conversation while she stashed it. There's an advantage to loose-fitting shirts.

"You are not going to say a word as we go through the department. We're going to act as though nothing is wrong. Then, once we get the prince, we will end anyone who comes in our way." Ramona raised her eyebrows at that. Reaching for her gun on her hip, she brushed the metal coolness. Somehow, this didn't feel like the right time.

"I imagine once we take the prince, everyone will be on alert," Ramona said. Her eyebrows furrowed. "You want to just kill everyone?"

"They'll be chasing us if we don't do something."

She was astonished. This was his master plan? Shoot up the whole joint? It was brash, crass and clueless, painting a target on their back when he had all of these connections.

"What's the point of having the insider knowledge if you're just going to tear the place apart?"

Rory rolled his eyes. "That's for me to know, darlin'. Like I said, you're going to standby and say nothing."

"But -"

"What were you going to do? With the mute boy? What would you have done?"

This didn't feel the same. Ramona would like to think she wouldn't have come to this conclusion, but it was likely that Leif would have decided to kill people, or at least knock them out of commission. But they were both outsiders. Rory was supposed to be running the show, at least in part. That should give him information to not need to do such things.

Though Rory was a hardened criminal, he seemed more high-end clean crime than a guy to commit a killing spree. At least for people like this, less justifiable.

"They have kill-on-sight orders the moment that anyone is shown to have suspicious behavior. The whole staff, either they shoot you or get someone else to. So it'd be better if you keep your shoot-without-thinking attitude."

Ramona almost piped up, "I don't shoot without thinking" but let it go. It was better he thought that, anyway.

The plan still felt suspect and very risky. The place didn't look like a world of violence. "But why are you held to that rule; I thought you were trusted by everyone."

"I handle administrative objectives. I do not deal with the prince directly unless absolutely necessary."

Ramona quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Oh?" she asked. "That important then?" It was sarcastic, hopefully subtly enough that it didn't get noticed.

It did. With a rough hand, he threw her out of the closet and she made way across the linoleum floor. While she was steadying herself, a man popped into the room.

"Rory!" Boisterous in grin but the most exhausted eyes. He was much thinner than Rory, and much younger though his hairline clued otherwise. "Are you here for the meeting? I thought you weren't supposed to come up for another week. We need you around here."

"Micah, I'd like you to meet my assistant," Rory pushed her forward. "This is Agnes. She'll be helping me out with certain affairs."

Micah gave a sharp smile and extended a hand. Grinned happy. "Nice to meet you, Agnes. You're a little late to the game, I'm surprised anyone else is joining us." Then it dawned on Micah and he laughed. "Oh, are you the new nurse acting in his stead? You should see the prince every time Rory enters a room, he goes completely -"

Rory stomped his foot and immediately the laughter in Micah's voice died. "That's enough."

"Oh, I s'pose so. You had to take the bullet for that one though, Rory, someone did. Owain still thanks you, I'm sure."

"You mean the majesty, Owain?" Ramona asked. She tried not to sound bitey, so her voice came off very breathless and stupid.

The tone seemed to ease Micah into talking even more. "That's right. They've got a whole thing going. I'm really not supposed to talk about it, but it's very well thought out. Turns out the son's a bit of a genius. Got a lot of tricks up his sleeve."

"Yeah, well," Rory grumbled. "He's also a real prick."

Micah laughed again and clomped Rory's arm. "That's the truth! However, who am I to say? He gave me a job, I do the work and he pays. That's what counts."

"How -" Ramona almost asked how he liked the job, but grit her teeth. It didn't matter. Instead she decided to remain a dutiful servant. "Would you like me to help with anything?"

"Oh, no, no. I've just gotten off a 28 hour shift. Laurel's sick, and the prince is so small she can't go near him, so..." He grabbed a pot of coffee and poured himself a cup. Then he poured a cup for Ramona. "Rory?"

"No, and really my assistant should be getting that for you."

"It's her first day. You going to introduce her to Gresham?" Then Micah backtracked and waved his hands. "Probably not with your track record with him. Don't want to give Agnes a bad impression." Micah liked to laugh at his own jokes, while Ramona and Rory stood uncomfortable, inching closer to the exit.

For a moment, Micah grew somber. "I'm sure he ends up hating us all, but I want to give you the benefit on being on the lesser end of that scale." Micah gestured to himself. "We, at least, have a decent rapport."

 "I'm sure you do," Ramona mumbled.

Rory got more sullen and dark the longer Micah talked. It made Ramona want to laugh. "Agnes, the meeting isn't for your ilk. I wouldn't mind bringing you to the prince once the meeting is done with what's important for me."

"So within the first five minutes?" Rory asked with a grin.

"Ah, always quick aren't ya, Rory?" Micah set his coffee cup down. "No, but it should get done fast. Then I can get you past all the guards. Till then... well, I'm sure Rory will only show you what's appropriate."

Micah's voice grew ominous and thick like pitch. He was not just a rambling coworker after all. His smile was gone.

"I don't know how much he's told you, but be careful. Between the two of us, you probably know more than the family would like. It took them months to trust me." Micah's smile came back, small and slant. "But I wasn't hired by Rory. Rory's got pull."

"Does he now?" Ramona turned around and eyed him, taking a sip of the coffee. Better than she'd had in years. "It sounded like he had hardly a say before," she said coyly.

"Oh, how humble. Rory's damn well bent over backwards to get their trust."

"That's enough," Rory clipped again. Micah raised his hand up in defense and gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, sorry, right and I was just warning you. Wouldn't want to get you killed so quick, Agnes."

"Micah!"

Micah blinked at Rory, Rory was glaring at him. Ramona looked between the two, suddenly very uncomfortable. Micah was gushing knowledge like a broken dam, like a child who learned something and couldn't stop repeating it over and over. Rory's face turned red and his eyes got sharper, glare unrelenting.

Suddenly Micah gave a girlish, nervous laugh. "It was a joke. My apologies, my sense of humor... My mind is a little scattered after the shift." He began rubbing his face. "Agh, I don't like dealing with transfusions. Me and blood! We don't get along, can hardly stand to look at it."

This guy could not stop talking. It was a wonder he lasted this long. Then again, maybe it was an air Rory gave off. Or perhaps they were so secure here it didn't matter. Whatever the culture was here, it was probably one where loons like Micah thrived in their own odd ways. However, there were obviously deadly consequences to screwing up.

"Then why take this job? Isn't that part of the job description?" Ramona asked. Poking and prodding for information. Rory wasn't having it.

"I think that's enough for today. Besides, I want to get her familiar with the place before I go to the meeting, Micah, so we'll have to go through your life story at a later time," Rory wrapped an arm around Ramona's waist and she elbowed him. They both gave gritted grins to Micah. "Come along, Agnes, you'll have plenty of time to get to know everyone."

His smile faltered and he shrugged. "I should get going anyway. Rory, you best not take too long. But, please, get familiar Agnes, I'm sure you'll find your place here. It's been a pleasure. I know I'm ready for some fresh employees around here. Everyone is so jaded. Understandable, though. Try not to let it rub off on you!"

Ramona nodded, starting to absorb his nervous energy into her own antics. It pooled in her stomach and she let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, well, I'll see you around."

"Ah, she's quiet. That'll change, gotta vent somehow," Micah mumbled as he went his own way. Ramona kept her gaze trained on him until she exited the room.

Once they entered the hallway, that was when Ramona saw what the place really was. There were complex lock mechanisms across several doors, and guards on either side of the hallway constantly walking back and forth. Doors were all made of metal, heavy and looming like a guard of its own. One could not break in without trouble. Above there was various piping, a couple that had obviously been intentionally broken and repaired. If Ramona had to guess, it looked like a sort of gas.

"That damned fool," Rory muttered. Ramona turned her ear and stopped looking around. "Does nothing but jabber on and on, how has he learned nothing?"

Rory was different in here. His big personality with dry wit seemed to be completely kicked down. A chin level with the floor did not distract from the fact that his eyes went downcast in front of the guards, and his hands fidgeted. No, he was nervous in here, and it radiated off of him like it did Micah.

"You going to be able to complete this job?" Ramona whispered. Rory nudged her and pressed his lips together. She sighed and took a few steps in front of him. "So where you showing me first before your big meeting?" she kept talking with her airy voice, giving gritted smiles that hopefully came off less biting than she imagined.

"Well, first I will show you the medical room. Then next I think you will need supplies." Rory pushed open a door, and they were acquainted with yet another closet. This one filled with supplies like gauze, tubes, medication. Equipment Ramona wasn't familiar with at all.

"Micah should be done soon, and he'll get things done quickly. Do you know what to do?"

"Not really." Micah, she imagined, was not to be trusted, and was not a factor in Rory's big plan. However, someone that desperate and uneasy made her feel more guilty to just get rid of.

"You will grab the prince now, and meet me at the front."

"You want me to try to get him before Micah gets out of the meeting? Why don't we use Micah to get past the guards?"

Rory smacked the idea down immediately. "He has made too many mistakes at this job, I severely doubt he will help with another."

"Couldn't that kind of money make him richer than he'd ever dreamed?"

"What would he do with it? His family was killed and he's lucky to be alive," Rory quipped. 

Blinking at that, Ramona wanted to ask questions. Her heart-rate spiked. His whole family was murdered for making mistakes? What did Micah do that they required him enough to pin him down in such a way?

Rory brushed it off and turned around to leave. Ramona wouldn't let him. "Micah is going to be out in minutes. Even you said it would be a quick meeting for him. How am I supposed to remove two guards and grab the prince alone."

"You'll have plenty of time. I'm going to bring up Micah and Agnes' conversation," he became rather solemn. "That should take a while. Fool should not spout such secrets. You're not even supposed to know prince Owain is behind this operation."

That felt dirtier than killing him, if Ramona had to be honest. She began working through what she had to do.

"When do the guards change?"

"Just kill them."

Her shoulders shrugged up to her ears at that. "Are you kidding?" Ramona asked. "There must be surveillance here. Do you know how stupid you sound?"

His suggestions were grossly delusional and ridiculous. Rory must know that Ramona would have never gone for that, but he seemed entirely serious. "There are no gaps for the change out of the guards. At one point, there will be four guards, and then it will go back to two. They don't take bathroom breaks, they don't eat." Rory looked outside the small little window. "They stand there, and they keep watch. They kill anyone who makes a wrong move."

"Well, how do you get rid of them? Surely, there has to be an event that would get one of them to move, buying me a little time to get rid of the other one."

Rory shook his head. Ramona felt like fuming, but she had to guess it wouldn't be that easy. "One guard is not allowed to leave until they are replaced. We have other guards to deal with outside emergencies on the premises. You will have to get rid of both, and quickly."

"I can't just kill them. That will not go well, and you know it."

"There is no documentation of this place beyond what a single woman has named Petra. This place is supposed to be virtually unknown. If there is surveillance, it will be noise, not anything else. That means..." he gestured for Ramona to cut in, as if he were some sort of teacher.

"I got it, fool." Ramona bit her lip. The gun was now useless, except as a power play. Against the guards standing outside however, she felt a gun was going to be close to worthless. She looked around. "These are medications."

"Yes?"

Ramona had a better plan. A quieter plan, if she could potentially swing it. "Anything that knocks someone out?"

Rory eyed her for a moment, then stepped backwards. "Yes, I believe there is something in here that will do that?"

"Let's start there."

--------

It did not go smoothly, the drugging of the guards. One of them was more... choked out of commission.

Coy and cute was not Ramona's game. Her oldest little sister used to be a genius at such acts, able to flirt with the eyes and juggle knives in front of her victims, all the while showing that the danger was not exactly what she was presenting, rather it was an ethereal threat. External, unguessable, unpredictable and wild. She came at her enemies sideways. It was a dishonesty Ramona never learned, both how to deal with and how to replicate.

Still, she tried. Her sister was not the master of it, and Ramona had seen masters now. The smuggler who brought her here, a drug dealer; those were the experts. But Ramona couldn't channel them, not even as Agnes.

It'd started out well enough. Rory left to go to the meeting and distract Micah, never giving her a plan as to when he would be out. She talked at the guards, and it was like talking to a brick wall. So she began making herself busy. Learning the rooms, figuring out where she could feasibly drag work from one end to the other. She walked back to the entry room, pretended to get orders, and came back with a box. 

The box had a bunch of scalpels in them. Whatever they were used for here, she wasn't sure, but she knew what she could use them for in regards to the operation. In the supply closet for the medications, she took a scalpel and cut her forearm slightly, enough to start bleeding. 

It took her a moment to get the gumption to scream. It came out at first like a battle-cry, so she bit on her tongue and yelped. 

One of the guards went to the doorway and broke it open. What he saw was Ramona clutching his arm, a scalpel and a lot of blood dripping down her wrists. It seemed these days she couldn't go long without looking like she'd come out of a butcher's shop. 

"What happened?" The guard did not look panicked at the sight. 

"I dropped the scalpels," Ramona said sheepishly. "It's my first day." She brushed her hair out of her face and began breathing heavy. "I need this job, I can't lose it. Can you help bandage me up?" 

The guard gave her a blank look. "There are doctors all over this building. Find one of them." 

Ramona grit her teeth and thought for a second. "No -- no, no, no, please, I work for them. If they see this, I'll lose my job."

"Not my problem." 

It sounded like something she'd say. The trouble was, Ramona couldn't think of a reason she'd care, either. 

"I'll figure it out," Ramona said. While wrapping up her arm, she moved so that he was in front of the entrance to the closet and she was out in the hallway.

Taking the gauze once she finished tying off her arm, she leaned forward to toss it back into the closet. Once it was thrown, she swiftly pulled back to grab his arm and stuck the needle in and pressed down.

He began flailing and shouting, then he swept Ramona off of her feet. Backhanding her in the face with an iron-hand, her legs gave out beneath her so she couldn't catch her fall. Smashing against the door, she bashed her head against the metal, causing it to ring. The sound echoed in her ears, and she swayed like a ship trying to push herself back up. 

There looked to be two more guards coming at her, but in truth, she could have been seeing double. They were yelling, but her ears rung. Taking a needle from her pocket, she uncapped it with her teeth and lunged. He grabbed at her waist and began yelling for another guard.

Punching him in the crotch — which there was sadly a cup — she forced herself between his legs and then came out the other side. Jumping up, she elbowed him in the base of his neck. Enough to disorient him, he whirled around to face her. She spat the cap back in his eye, and while he flinched, she grabbed his arm and injected him.

However, when she thought she was seeing double, she had not. Another guard had a beat-stick, and walloped her in the shoulder with it. Screeching, she grabbed hold of it, but he quickly tore it out of her hands by pulling towards himself. Noticing that this actually drew her closer to him, she jumped up and bit down on his shoulder. 

He began beating her against her back, and she howled out a cry, but she didn't let go. While he was focused on trying to tear her teeth off of him, she uncapped the next syringe and stabbed him in the back.

A/N

From here on out, I am going to try to update this on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and possibly once during the weekend. Feel free to hold me to the schedule.

Thanks!

_huckleberry