Joined: 09 April 2010
The following 6 member(s) liked the above post:
khajju, -SnowKid-, sherma, ...Pwincess..., mazkachazka, Preeti.xo,
Joined: 23 October 2010
The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:
Joined: 29 March 2009
The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:
Joined: 09 April 2010
Mission 1: A Trip Down Memory Lane
A pair of chocolate brown eyes peeked out above the brick fence shifting stealthy to the left and then to the right making sure it was clear before he attempted to complete his mission. His eyes twinkled brightly as he sensed victory was within his grasp. He raised his wooden sling shot; the grip molding perfectly to his hand and aimed carefully. He pulled the sling backwards cupping the stone pebble in its seat with his other hand and let go. Within a matter of seconds the sound of a clay pot breaking and crashing to the ground echoed out disturbing the serene silence of the lazy morning. A muffled yell soon grew louder as a glass door slide open, "Not another one! You!!!" the shrill voiced shouted. The boy knew he was in trouble as Mrs. Henderson had spotted him. She was wailing at the top of her lungs that this time she would get him for sure. He run as fast as his legs could carry him smirking along the away as he cut through a neighbor's backyard and climbed over a chained length fence into the backyard of a red brick house on 1523 Oak Street. It had been empty for months and he knew he could seek refuge within its walls. He took out his pocket knife and used the flat end screwdriver piece to pry open the loose basement window. It was something he had discovered a few weeks back when he was exploring the property. He slide on his belly and crawled into the house. He grinned to himself thinking...I'm just too good. No way Mrs. Henderson can get me now. He happily climbed up the basement stairs and decided to go to his favorite room on the second floor. He often dreamed of one day living in a house like 1523 with a mom, dad, and a dog. As he opened the door and walked into the kitchen he was surprised to see moving boxes stacked everywhere. He cautiously moved to the front of the house and heard voices. He hid behind some boxes and listened as a woman spoke with the moving men. He sighed to himself wondering what he should do next. He turned suddenly when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. A girl wearing a yellow dress with a matching yellow bow headband stood in front of him. "Who are---" was about all she was able to utter before he pulled her down cupping her mouth. Her eyes widen in terror at his action. She didn't know what this strange boy was doing in her house and what was worst his grubby dirty hand was now covering her mouth.
"Sssh," the boy whispered into her ear. "I won't hurt you I promise. I just need a place to hide for a few minutes." His words only made her madder. She wasn't too pleased that he was trying to use her home as some hideout place. It was obvious from his behavior, the scuffed up jeans he wore, and the sling shot sticking out of his back pocket that he had done some sort of mischief and was now hiding instead of taking the consequences of his actions.
"Heer?" the woman at the front of the house called. The boy mused that the woman was most likely the girl's mother. "Heer?" her mother called again. An odd sensation ran through him upon hearing the girl's name for the second time. He kind of liked the way it sounded and thought it was a rather pretty name. The girl fidgeted in his arms wondering if he was ever going to let her go. The boy realized if he didn't let her answer her mother he would be in even bigger trouble. "I'll promise to let you go just don't say anything about me, okay?" The girl nodded her head and he slowly let his hands slip from her mouth.
"Yes, Mama?" Heer answered moving as far away from the boy as she could.
"There you are," her mother said. "So how do you like this place?" A cold sweat broke out as the boy sat crouched behind the boxes realizing all the mother would have to do was to walk over a little more to her right and find him. He really wished Heer had walked further forward instead of off to the side of him.
"It's nice," Heer replied.
"Did you pick out your room?" her mother asked.
"I really like the second room to the right. It has a really big window that has a bench underneath it," Heer said with great excitement. The boy smiled to himself thinking...Hey that's the same room I like too. But wait a minute if these people move in I don't have a place to hide anymore...and I won't be able to go to my favorite room...aww, this stinks...The boy's smile had disappeared and in its place was a huge frown. His ears perked and his body went tense when he heard the familiar shrill voice of Mrs. Henderson at the door.
"Oh, hello. You just moved into the neighborhood?" Mrs. Henderson inquired.
"Ah, yes. We did. Hello, I'm Teji Singh and this is my daughter Leher," Teji answered. The boy sat in his spot a bit perplexed as to why the mother was now referring to her daughter as Leher. He distinctly heard her call her Heer. The boy sat there scratching his head in wonderment not really paying too much attention to the conversation that was occurring. If he had he would have found a way to escape.
"Have you seen my nephew?" Mrs. Henderson asked. "He's eight years old, has shaggy brown hair, and is wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. He loves to play hide in seek I'm afraid. He tends to hide in people's yards or other places."
"I'm sorry Heidi I haven't seen him. We've been here all morning and I haven't seen any boy," Teji said.
"But I have, Mama. There's a boy in our living room," Heer said. "He's hiding behind some boxes."
"What?!" Teji replied.
Mrs. Henderson marched into the house and before the boy could do anything she grabbed him by one ear and began leading him out the door. "Prem Juneja I've finally caught you...thought you could get away didn't you?" she rambled, "We'll just see about thaaa..." and then suddenly stopped in mid sentence as she realized Teji was staring at her strangely. After all she was Caucasian and her so called nephew was Indian. "My sister married a nice Indian boy," Mrs. Henderson quickly explained and pulled Prem along with her out the door before Teji could ask any more questions. "Well, it was really nice meeting you Mrs. Singh. Welcome to the neighborhood. Bye!" She then lowered her voice and whispered to Prem, "You're finally getting punished. You're parents are going to be very upset with you."
"They're not my parents!" Prem huffed. He turned his head back towards the front porch of 1523 Oak Street and gritted his teeth in anger at the girl with the yellow dress. He made up his mind that he didn't like her, whatever her name was and he was determined to make her pay.
The gentle rhythmic swaying of the train cabin crawled to a stopped as the automated announcement system announced to the passengers that they had arrived at their destination. A man wearing all black was curled in his chair with his long black wool coat covering him. He groggily woke up from the sounds of the passengers disembarking. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair wondering why he was dreaming about his past. Prem quickly stood up and put on his coat. He then grabbed the black and grey travel backpack from the over head bin and slung it over his shoulder. He paused briefly to allow a group of chattering girls to enter the exit aisle first. One of the girls with blonde hair gave him a flirtatious smile which he simply acknowledged with his own grin. A few of her friends noticed the interaction and burst into a fit of giggles as they walked out of the train. Prem allowed an elderly couple to pass him before entering the aisle next to exit onto the platform. He turned up the collar of his coat and rubbed his hands together at the chilly weather. He immediately searched for the nearest news stand to purchase a pack of cigarettes and a newspaper.
"Those things will kill you...you know," a man with a red beard said to him. He had appeared out of nowhere and was standing next to Prem looking at various drink items the stand was selling.
"I know," Prem replied as he handed some cash over to the stand owner. He carried his items and began walking away heading towards the exit. Once outside of the train station he stood in the middle of the sidewalk surveying the area around him and looking at the taxi cabs lined up off to the side of the road. He smirked and twisted his right hand to the side holding the rolled up newspaper and cigarettes as an offering to the person standing next to him.
"Welcome to Romanian, son," the red bearded man replied.
"You know that stuff is going to kill you, Peter," Prem said as he watched his friend light up a cigarette.
"I know that is why I'm quitting for Ana," Peter answered.
"Quitting? Then give those back," Prem said as he tried snatching the pack of cigarettes back. "If I had known I wouldn't have got them for you."
"Yes, why did you get them for me?" Peter asked as he dodged Prem's hands.
"I knew if I didn't give you some sort of gift you would complain," Prem replied.
"Gifts are customary afterall...especially if you haven't seen an old friend in such a long time," Peter said. "And so...since you were so generous to have gotten something for me...thank you by the way...the only polite thing to do is to smoke some."
"Don't let Ana see," Prem sighed.
"Maria will be just as mad," Peter replied causing Prem to chuckle. "Come the car is over this way."
Prem sat in the passenger seat taking in the sights and sounds of Bucharest the capital city of Romania. It was like any other city with paved streets, cars, buildings, and lights but yet there was still something distinctly different that made him realized he was in Southeastern Europe. He clutched his coat tightly around him and shivered. He couldn't believe it was so cold then again his body just wasn't use to this type of weather after spending several months in a more humid and hotter climate.
"You cold Prem?" Peter laughed.
"I'm just not use to this," Prem replied with his teeth chattering slightly.
"How long you in for?" Peter asked.
"Two days if all goes as planned," Prem answered.
"Yup, definitely not enough time for you to get use to this weather," Peter said. "Where were you stationed before?"
"Brazil," Prem replied.
"Well no wonder. It's hot and sunny over there," Peter said as he parked his car into a drive way. "We're home Sweetheart." Prem snickered and got out. "We'll get some Tuica in you...that will definitely warm you up if not knock you out!" Peter laughed. The minute they stepped inside the quaint and cozy house a barrage of cheery welcomes greeted them.
"Prem, it has been such a long time," greeted a slender brunette haired woman who gave him the customary kiss on each cheek in greeting.
"You're looking great Maria," Prem smiled.
"Papa!" shouted a little five year old girl with pigtails. "Did you get anything for me?"
"I just went out to the train station to pick up Uncle Prem. You remember him don't you?" Peter asked as he lifted his daughter up into his arms. Ana curiously stared at Prem trying to recall if she had ever seen him before, after a few minutes she gave up and shrugged her shoulders.
Prem chuckled, "You were only two at the time. I don't expect you to remember me. I only saw you for a few seconds."
Ana buried her head against her father's shoulder. "Papa you smell funny," Ana suddenly uttered.
"Just the train station smell," Peter replied.
Maria gave a suspicious look at her husband and then said, "Come Ana let's wash up and get ready for dinner.
Peter put his daughter down but before she could run off he quickly said, "Ah, what is this in my pocket?" Ana looked in delight as her father handed her a chocolate bar. "Thanks Papa!" she gleefully shouted.
"You can have that after dinner," Maria instructed to which Ana obediently handed over the candy to her mother for safe keeping until after dinner.
A few hours later Prem and Peter were sitting at the dining table while the crackling fire in the living room fireplace danced fervently spreading warmth throughout the lower level of the house. Maria and Ana had gone off to bed leaving the two men alone to reminisce and speak privately to each other. Peter handed Prem another beer and sighed, "You can't let these things get you down."
"But it could have been prevented...I could have prevented it...an innocent kid was killed because of me," Prem replied sadly. "If I had just waited a few seconds..."
"Don't kill yourself over the would of, should of, could of...things like this happen in the field," Peter said.
Prem banged his fist on the table in frustration, "It should have never happened..."
"You've always had that perfection streak. Trying to seek that is going to kill you if not jeopardize the mission. Besides you were distracted after hearing about your mother's death," Peter said looking in concern as Prem held his head in shame.
Peter was not just a friend but a mentor to the young man sitting in front of him. He was Prem's field officer when he first entered the academy and had accompanied him on a few missions to show him the ropes. He developed a close bond and affection for the sometimes roguish young agent. But when things seemed at their worst Prem always managed to find a way out of the situation. He was just that good. An excellent marksmen and despite his holds no bare attitude, he still possessed a quiet sophisticated reserve about him that the agency seemed to love.
Prem lifted his head and replied, "But I shouldn't have been distracted."
Peter could see the turmoil in his eyes, "Take a break. Find yourself a nice girl and settle down." Prem stared at him in wonderment at his suggestion. "Look at me...who would have thought a good old boy from New York would end up serving his country as a spy and then ended up falling in love with a Romanian girl...now I'm married and have a beautiful five year old daughter. I'm happy where I am...working at the US Embassy. Dreams really do come true. You shouldn't let your work or your past hold you back on relationships."
"You make it sound like I don't talk to girls," Prem said.
"When was the last time you dated?" Peter asked. Prem arched his eyebrow staring at him like he had said something completely bizarre. "Yes, I know a life of a field agent doesn't give much time for a social life. But seriously, when is the last time you had some relationship with a girl?"
"I'm not like some people...going around having one night stands...if that's what you mean," Prem replied. "But I've had a couple of brief relationships...there was Priya and then Sanjana..."
"Chopra? Sanjana Chopra?" Peter chuckled softly. "Wow, where is that girl?"
"Last I heard somewhere in South Africa," Prem answered. He then shook his head, "It was sort of on and off with her...timing just wasn't right..."
"Well, glad to see you aren't a hopeless case," Peter said.
"I certainly hope not," Prem chuckled rubbing the back of his head.
"You want another slice of pumpkin pie?" Peter offered. "One of the perks of befriending the Embassy chef. I always want pumpkin pie during this time of year...guess that's the tradition of Thanksgiving I've never been able to shake. This year my parents are coming to visit and Maria is determine to make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Are you really sure you don't want another slice?"
Prem smirked at the way his friend's face lit up, "No, you enjoy it. I'm heading off to bed. It's going to be hectic night tomorrow."
"All right see you in the morning," Peter replied and went off to the kitchen.
Prem made his way quietly upstairs and into his room to change into his pajamas. He was unconsciously grinning from ear to ear as his mind continued to think about the word pumpkin. It had been so long ago yet the memory was still fresh in his mind; the day he officially met his best friend.
Prem sat at his desk grumbling to himself that he had lost his favorite eraser. Consumed by his own self pity he didn't hear his friend calling him. "Psst...psst...Prem!" his friend whispered loudly into his ear causing him to jerk back. "Ah, Tony...my ear is ringing!" Prem scowled.
"Sorry, look over there it's someone new," Tony said poking him in the arm. "It's a girl."
Prem shifted his head like all the others in the classroom and stared at the new classmate who was standing next to the teacher at the front of the room. "Class my I have your attention please. Thank you," said their teacher. "We have a new student today. Her name is Leher Singh. Let's welcome her to the class." The teacher paused as everyone in the room mechanically greeted, "Hello Leher." The teacher smiled pleased that they were implementing what she had taught them. "Leher there is an empty seat right next to Prem Juneja. That will be your desk for the rest of the school year."
"Thank you Mrs. Robins," Leher politely said. Prem's eyes widen as he looked at the empty desk next to him and then back at Leher who was walking towards him. His two other deskmates were happy that someone new was joining them completing the table of four.
"Hi my name is Debbie!" greeted a squeaky voiced brown haired girl. Her purple rimmed glasses sat high on her nose as she grinned brightly at Leher.
"I'm Leo," said a Chinese boy with chubby cheeks who was sitting directly in front of Prem.
Leher smiled and politely greeted her deskmates. She then sat down at her desk and opened her school box. Prem turned his back towards her and faced the dry eraser board waiting for the math lesson to begin. Leher narrowed her eyes at his cold attitude. "You're not very nice," Leher mumbled.
"He's never nice," Debbie replied.
"That's not true he's nice to me," Leo said.
"That's because you're a boy. He doesn't like girls," Debbie explained.
"I like girls," Prem interjected. "I just don't like the girls in this class."
"He likes Heather...she's in grade three," Leo divulged with a happy grin.
"Ooo'she your girl friend?" Debbie teased.
"No, Heather likes Vick who is in grade four," Leo explained. "I know cause Vick is my brother."
Prem frowned at his friend who was gossiping too much about his school crush. "Be quiet," he snapped.
Leher giggled, "Awww, you embarrassed?" Prem shot her an angry look to which she replied, "You still haven't said sorry for being in my house yesterday."
"I'm not going to either. Because of you I got caught by Mrs. Henderson," Prem replied. "I don't have to say sorry."
"Yes, you do," Leher ordered.
"No, I don't," Prem answered.
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
Leo and Debbie both looked at each other amazed by Prem and Leher's familiarity with one another. They watched on in curious interest as they continued to fight. Eventually the fighting stopped much to Leo and Debbie's disappointment when the teacher called for the entire class's attention so they could start the math lesson for the day.
A few hours later the class was outside on the playground for recess break. Prem was being harassed by a group of male classmates about knowing Leher. He was trying to defend himself explaining that he didn't like her but they wouldn't believe him. Fed up with their taunting he turned around in search of Leher to prove a point. He found her at the jungle bars playing with Debbie. The girls turned to him wondering what he wanted. Prem smiled as he looked at Leher in her orange dress and matching head band. "Do you like the color orange?" he innocently asked. Leher stared at him strangely, pondering why he was asking such a question. "Orange dress...orange head band...all you need is orange tights and maybe orange shoes...then you would look like a big fat pumpkin," Prem replied moving his arms to the side and puffing out his cheeks imitating a large round ball. "I think I'll call you Pumpkin. Pumpkin, Pumpkin, Pumpkin!"
"Stop that, Prem. That's not nice," Debbie defended.
Prem didn't care and continued to shout, "Pumpkin, Pumpkin, Pumpkin..." Before the girls knew it Prem's friends Tony and Leo showed up and started in on the chanting.
"Stop it," Leher replied.
"No," Prem said shaking his head. "Pumpkin...Leher is a big fat pumpkin...pumpkin, pumpkin, pumpkin!"
Leher was soon left alone as Debbie suddenly ran off. She had no idea that she had actually gone to tell Mrs. Robins that Prem and his friends were picking on Leher. She felt all alone and the three boys were soon crowding around her. She broke out into tears and yelled, "I hate you Prem Juneja!"
Prem just smiled, "I hate you too Pumpkin!"
-----------------------------*~*End of Flashback*~*--------------------------
Prem sighed to himself and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He wondered where Pumpkin was in the world and was she living a good life. Was she finally living the life she had always dreamt of? He hoped wherever she was that she was happy, laughing, and smiling. He wished nothing but the best for her. A pleasant warmth filled his chest and his eyes sparkled with extreme mirth and deep affection as he recalled her sweet childhood imagine. He let out a small chuckle and then wiped his face with his towel. Prem then went back to his room ready to collapse into bed.
Hazel eyes scanned with delight as the familiar buildings, roadways, and street signs passed by her as she drove her blue Honda Civic heading towards her destination, home. The drive from the airport seemed to be taking longer than usual. All she could think about was taking a long hot shower, slipping into some comfortable sweats, and collapsing on the couch to watch some mind numbing television. Eventually she turned the car into her neighborhood and saw the much anticipated view of her home, a brick Colonial style house. She quickly parked her car in the driveway, grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, and made her way to the front door. "I'm home!" she announced with glee.
A woman in her late forties came walking curiously out of the office and broke out in a huge smile. "Why didn't you call? I had no idea you were coming home today."
"I'm sorry Mama. I was able to get an earlier flight. I thought I surprise you," she replied.
"Wait just one minute," her mother ordered stopping her daughter from going anywhere further into the house.
"Mama, I really just want to go upstairs and take a shower," she whined.
"First let me welcome you back home," her mother replied and immediately went and fetched the prayer plate to do aarti for her daughter. "Okay, now you can come in."
She smiled and gave her mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks. I missed you."
"Missed you too," her mother answered. She gently stroked her daughter's silky black hair. "It's getting rather long. Are you going to be cutting it anytime soon?"
"Yes, I'll make an appointment tomorrow. I'm going to go take a shower. Where's Papa?" she asked.
"He had a conference and had to go to California. He'll be back day after next...Saturday," her mother said. "Okay, you go take that shower. I'll make something nice for you. Pakoras?"
"Oh, that sounds great! Pakoras and TV...you're making the potato slices, paneer, and mirchi ones right?" she asked.
"Of course. Go and take your shower and by the time you come down it will be ready," her mother pushed.
"All right," she nodded and hurriedly carried her suitcase up the stairs to her room.
Twenty minutes later she was standing in front of her mirror combing out her wet hair. She toweled it dry the best she could and decided to let it air dry. She could already see it start to form into slight waves. It always did that after getting wet. Her hair had its own natural curl but she always straightened it with a flat iron. She walked back into her bedroom and looked at her half unpacked suitcase. She sighed and decided she would take care of the rest tomorrow. Suddenly remembering something she went to her purse. Her eyes widened in panic when she couldn't find what she was looking for. She dumped the contents of her purse out on the bed to make sure she didn't somehow miss it but the item wasn't there. She then went through her open suitcase hoping it was there. When she didn't find it she found herself on the verge of tears. It was one of the most precious things she owned and she always carried it with her. She silently berated herself for not being careful and that if she had been really smart about it she should have just kept it at home in her jewelry box where it would have been safe. She sighed and went to her backpack to get her cell phone charger out. As she unzipped the front pocket and pulled the charger out a steel chain with a heart shaped pendent came out as well. Her eyes brightened immediately and gave a thankful prayer that she had found her prized possession. Whenever she was feeling down she would read the inscription on the heart and smile remembering the significant meaning the charm had in her life and its message of hope. She held the heart pendent in her hand and brought it up to the left side of her chest embracing it with a relieved sigh. She then quickly placed the chain into her jewelry box when she heard her mother calling her name. "Heer! The pakoras are ready. Eat them while they're hot!"
"Coming Mama!" Heer yelled back and then left her room to go downstairs.
Prem nodded his head and played with his cuff links as he went along with the monotonous chit-chat he was being forced to endure at the party he was attending. He politely bowed as he was being introduced to the wife of the Texas oil tycoon he had been speaking with for the past five minutes. "Jamie, my wife...An---um...Aanu---"
"Anurag Ganguli," Prem quickly replied saving the man from having to recall how to say his name properly. "Very nice to meet you Jamie."
"Sorry there Champ...didn't mean any offense. Please forgive me...I have trouble with remembering names. I sometimes forget what I'm called myself," the man said in his thick southern Texan accent.
"It's quite all right. I'm use to it," Prem said chuckling along with the oil tycoon and his wife.
"Anu-raag's family is in jewelry," the man continued to introduce. "Just moved to Dubai to set up his business."
"Oh, you don't say. I've always told Thomas that we should make friends with a jeweler and look at this," Jamie playfully teased. "I've never been to Dubai before but would love to go one day. I hear it's very beautiful."
"It is. I've only been there for a few months and I'm loving it," Prem replied layering on his fake Indian accent. He tried suppressing the smirk that was starting to form on his face. He remembered during his training days how Peter advised him to be quiet and not attract attention if possible when infiltrating a social gathering like this elite foreign dignitary party he was attending tonight. However, certain occasions forced one to mingle amongst the crowd and when placed in such circumstances it was best to strike conversations with people of the nervous, shy, or displaced nature. It was quite obvious that this Texas oil tycoon had never been to a party of this class and scale. Prem had spotted him immediately and decided to settle himself with him until he was given the signal from his contact.
"The weather here has been extremely cold. We packed for this weather but it is still so unexpected," Jamie said.
"Weather like this calls for stronger stuff don't you say?" Thomas asked. "Champagne can't do nothin' to keep you warm. I'm sure they have some whiskey back in that kitchen of theirs or some of their local stuff...what's it called Tuica? That ther' is some powerful stuff."
"It has been colder than normal...at least that is what I've been told by the locals. Having something stronger would be nice but until then I guess champagne will have to do," Prem replied as he took a new flute off the serving tray that was being offered by one of the waiting staff. The server nodded his head at Prem and then waited patiently as Thomas took another refill as well. "If you will excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Flint I think I see an old friend," Prem said as he politely excused himself.
Prem made his way to the other side of the room effortlessly getting swallowed up into the crowd of guests. He turned down a hallway to his right and entered the men's restroom. He quickly entered the second to last stall and placed the flute he was holding on the ground. Prem lifted the rectangular lid off the tank and placed his hand inside the water cavity next to the water pump and pulled out a plastic bag. It held a Smith and Wesson M&P compact handgun and a small piece of paper that was a map telling him where to go. He took the contents out and put the plastic bag back into the tank and then carefully placed the lid back on. He completed his task just in time to hear the door open and footsteps striking down on the marble floor. Prem quickly picked up his flute and pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and gently doused it with champagne. He then dumped the rest of the beverage into the toilet and began making groaning noises. He flushed the toilet and then came barreling out of the stall in a sick and slightly tipsy state. Prem had his mouth covered with the white handkerchief and purposely stumbled into the man who was in the restroom. The man jerked back muttering something in Romanian as he cringed at smelling the strong alcoholic aroma coming from Prem. The man decided to leave the restroom preferring to wait until Prem had left before coming back in to do his business. Prem smirked and walked to the sink cleaning his face with some warm water and then exited the restroom. He stealthily moved up the stairs to the second floor and crossed the way to the left side of the house. He pulled out the map from his left pocket to check he was heading in the right direction. He grinned and entered the room to his left and found the bedroom study. Prem hurriedly went to the open laptop sitting on the desk and ran his finger along the touchpad. As expected there was a request for him to enter the passcode. He checked the map and found the code written down for him. He breathed a sigh of relief and entered the password. Within a few seconds he had direct access to all the contents of the laptop. He stuck an USB inside its slot and located the file folders he needed. He then copied and pasted the items into the USB. Prem stood tapping his fingers impatiently as he watched the loading bar process his request. His ears strained listening nervously to make sure there was no one coming towards the room. This was probably the most nerve-racking part of missions like theses. It brought him a great sense of excitement but dread as well. Since childhood Prem had always been a bit of a thrill seeker and doing this particular line of work brought him great satisfaction.
Once the progress bar had disappeared from view, he unhooked the USB and logged into Windows Messenger Live to page his contact. Prem freaked when he heard the loud audio coming out of the speakers. He scrambled to find the audio control buttons. He lowered the volume just in time to pick up distinct voices talking near the hallway. Prem typed his command over to his contact on the other line and then swiftly placed a blank screen saver up onto the laptop before hiding underneath the desk as he heard strong footsteps head towards the study. His head had just disappeared in time when the study door was forcefully opened. Prem slowed his breathing down as he heard the soft thud of leather hit the carpeted floor. It moved to the right and then the left before settling right in front of the desk. There was a long silent pause before he heard the shoes move backwards and finally the clicking of the door shutting close. Prem counted to twenty in his head before slowly emerging from his hiding spot. He ran his hand over the touchpad and saw a downloading progress bar up and running. He gently typed, "How much longer?"
A speedy message replied back from Codecracker, "Few more minutes. Can't you read the progress bar?"
it reads 60%.
Codecracker: Well, there you go . How's the weather?
Codecracker: How's the food there?
Hwakeye: Good. Should you be this chatty while this is going on?
Codecracker: Don't worry I always clean up the logs
Hwakeye: Just concentrate on your work.
Codecracker: Yes, sir
Hwakeye: Stop using
Codecracker: But you just used a smiley
Hwakeye: Will you please concentrate? I almost got caught cause of the volume on the laptop. If you compromised this mission...
Codecracker: You can't do anything cause more than likely they will kill you. And who's fault is that? That you didn't check the laptop volume before you started playing around
Codecracker: It's almost done. 10% left. Good luck.
Prem watched with baited breath as the progress bar finally disappeared. He saw a mouse arrow move across the screen to log him out and then the computer shut down and restarted. Prem made his way to the office door and slowly cracked it open to inspect if there was anyone in the hallway. Much to his dismay on the far end stood a man in a black suit talking on his cell phone. Prem knew it was one of the security guards and there was no way he would be able to explain why he was on this part of the house even if he pretended to act drunk. He closed the door and started thinking what he could do next.
The following 24 member(s) liked the above post:
sweetnsourx3, Princex178, sharmeeli, snehasharma, PremeerKash, aaminaman, nspn.92, Gops94, sweetanu2314, shivangi2092, Ilovepie., sweetapple2995, luvharshiti, Aymee, -Garima-, curledup, -SnowKid-, ...Pwincess..., Sukrutha, mazkachazka, Minion23, -Fatima-, AASUS, Preeti.xo,
Joined: 23 October 2010
The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:
Joined: 23 March 2010
Joined: 06 September 2009
The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:
Joined: 07 March 2010
The following 1 member(s) liked the above post:
Worry not when creative Soaps is here
Author: Soaps1 Replies: 35 Views: 3253
|Soaps1||35||3253||28 February 2010 at 12:02am by SwathyS|
To, the creative team - please oblige
Author: confusedsoul Replies: 7 Views: 739
|confusedsoul||7||739||13 January 2010 at 2:57pm by myluv_harshad|
sanchi bawa the most destructive creative
Author: mono123 Replies: 12 Views: 2669
|mono123||12||2669||14 December 2009 at 7:08pm by onegossip|
serious note to creative team of kdmhmd
Author: bussa_sreenidhi Replies: 5 Views: 943
|bussa_sreenidhi||5||943||24 November 2009 at 6:56am by Uzma005|
Creative you owe us an answer!!
Author: confusedsoul Replies: 12 Views: 1268
|confusedsoul||12||1268||05 October 2009 at 8:46pm by blueocean_787|
Disclaimer: All Logos and Pictures of various Channels, Shows, Artistes, Media Houses, Companies, Brands etc. belong to their respective owners, and are used to merely visually identify the Channels, Shows, Companies, Brands, etc. to the viewer. Incase of any issue please contact the webmaster.
Popular Channels :
Quick Links :