Missing Persons Detective Agency

Rockets shriek overhead. The crimson explosions fight with squealing excitement from the barefoot kids lighting fuses. This celebration by the local people is my cover to cross time-zones, borders, and language barriers, all in sturdy boots.

“An easy job, Liz,” Harvey had said, deep in his whiskey. “You’ll be over the border, missing client in hand, no problem”. I was in debt, beholden, and willing to take on any job. Even with that level of readiness, I read the letter twice. “Are you sure about this one?” I asked.

His answer saw me here – avoiding crowds, stray fireworks, and looking for number ten.

A battered narrow blue door between a bottle shop and cigarette stand opens. I slip inside and run into a mountain of a man whose job does not include letting me pass. His mistake is thinking his size is threat enough, when I have steel-capped boots – two. I strike his right knee first, staggering him sideways. I avoid one wild hook and follow up with a solid kick to his groin.

He is crouching on the floor, groaning, as we hear from above – “Bruno, who’s there? Tell them to go away”. As much as I hate to disappoint Bruno’s boss, I climb the stairs and open the door to an elegant room. In the middle is a man posing as a gentleman. To the side is the client. My sister.

“It’s easy,” I say. “Lily leaves with me.”

This piece was written for the first heat of the NYC Midnight Microfiction (250 words) Challenge of 2020.
Genre: Action/Adventure| Action: Setting off Firewords | Word: Threat

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