Some Rumors, A Stolen Password, and Crocodile Tears

The door screamed open silently as the clock struck the half hour past midnight. Darkness prevailed all around the business complex as the lone figure, dressed in black put in the password on the security lock on the thick oak door. A faint smile rose on the face of the black-clad person, as he moved in to the well-kept office; and as if knowing the layout perfectly to every speck of dust in the room, the person glided to the safe in the wall. Again putting in the code with perfection, the intruder took out a sheaf of papers from the safe, and the smile intensified.

Whispers broke through the gathering as she entered through the glass door. There she stood, stationary at the door jamb, waiting for the murmurs to subside. But they did not; and as she walked to her desk, the amplitude rose. Throwing her thick blond hair into the air, she kept walking, unaffected by the happenings of the surrounding; she knew what she had to do, and how she would be doing it, and there was nothing which could stop her.

The figure moved to the copier, and shoved the papers quickly into the gaping mouth of the machine as though to speed up the process done by the contraption. Waiting for the machine to spew out the needed papers, the figure strolled to the desk and ruffled aimlessly through the papers on the desk. The ruffle of papers resounded through the chamber, as the movement continued till the pair of brown eyes stopped on an envelope which revealed some of the classified information it held.

Keeping her blue handbag on the desk, she adjusted her spectacles in order to amplify her sweet brown eyes, and with a look of determination and purpose on her face, she walked towards the only barrier between him and her, the oak door; a door which was brown and still brawny enough to keep the entrance to the office safe from all kinds of intrusion, as thought by some of those absent. Her movement was noted by some in the room, and towards her rushed the gossip-queen; with a look of excitement on her face.

Pulling out the classified material, which turned out to be some photographs in high definition, the person was taken over by a look of dread at the sight of the pictures. Awkward, yet moving, the images were very authentic, and the person knew them to be true. The click of the copier signaling its work to be done, violently pulled the person back to the close confines of the room. But there was still some work to be done, and that would be done the next morning.

“Do you know the latest news Mikhaila,” asked Layla enthusiastically in her chirpy voice. Continuing without waiting for an answer, she said,” There was a break-in here in the office! Someone broke into the boss’ chamber and rummaged through all the papers on his desk. Thankfully there was nothing incriminating there for the criminals.”

“Oh my God! A break-in in our office? I always thought this place to be a safe haven, now I will have to lock up my work and leave,” said Mikhaila in a tone portraying fake interest.

“Nothing’s known yet dear. The boss hasn’t even called the police in. This may be a false alarm as well. But, was just passing on what I heard to you, that’s what friends are for, aren’t they,” she replied with a smile on her face.

“Of course sweetheart. Thank you for the news, we will have to be secured for sure,” feigning interest in the rumor, Mikhaila walked off to accomplish the task at hand.

Taking the papers from the mouth of the machine, the black-clad robber arranged them the way they were and kept them safely back in their hide-out. Taking a last look at the pictures in the envelope, the figure gathered the copied documents and deposited them into a pocket in the black clothing. Moving quickly to the door, the figure looked at the room for any left back evidence; and seeing none, moved out like lightning. Racing down the stairs, the figure took off the black mask on the face and shook the blond hair out of their limited space.

Knocking lightly on the door, Mikhaila walked into the chamber through the door, once known well to prevent against breaking and entering.

“Hey dear. What’s about those rumors I heard outside about the break-in here last night? Anything taken from you,” she asked directly.

“Nothing was taken, yet there were some important documents on my desk which lay strewn around when I came back this morning.

The person stopped midway down the stairs. Her brown eyes lighting up with a feeling of anger, fear and yet excitement, she moved back up the stairs; back to the chamber. And this time it would not be for others, it would be for herself, only. She picked up the envelope, and taking out a picture from between, she chose one which portrayed her and the owner of this chamber, and put it along with the documents. And then she moved out, back to her car, and to her home; leaving the chamber intact as it had been when the clock struck midnight.

Throwing down the picture on the desk, Mikhaila looked at her boss in the eye, and stood unmoved. She had known that this moment would come in the future; known from the moment she had been sent to his chamber for a mistake she had made in a project; known from the moment their eyes had met; known from the moment he had made his first move. She had been forced to pretend, to cry, in order to save her job. There was nothing else which would have saved her. And she had let her eyes do their job, all in the name of pretention.

Taking the photos from the desk, Mikhaila moved to the shredder nearby and violently pushed the images through. The violence being just a part of her personal revenge, she had done the job assigned to her by Jon; her beloved Jon.

“You should check on the documents in the safe about the password to the new project. It’s known to too many people already.” And with this, she walked out abruptly, a look of jubilation reflecting on her face.

Shocked and shaken, Mr. James stood in his place through all this. It all dawned on him. The day she had cried to him returned back to him; the moment she had placed her head on his shoulder and caressed him back onto his chair. It all came back to him. Jon’s face and warning returned to him, and the truth dawned on him. He had been used.