Working With Red

Animosity and Ambiguity

It turns out this is how I cope with tragedy. 

* * * 

Oliver and Dinah simultaneously stiffened as a bulbous silver SUV rolled to a stop on the street corner. The cafe's storefront loomed just behind them, a perfect mirror image reflected in the car's heavily tinted windows. Dinah grew apprehensive upon realizing she couldn't identify the passengers inside, while Oliver scanned the foreign vehicle, admiring the SUV's next-year design and imagining how you'd be fawning over every little detail with glimmering eyes.

German. He drew in a breath. Of course.

"Not one for subtlety..." Dinah murmured. Customers in the cafe were already turning their heads and peering at the vehicle through the windows behind them. Too much unwanted attention was being drawn; it wasn't the great start they'd hoped for. 

"Hush," Oliver whispered amusedly in an effort to hide his frown. 

The frigid winter air sent the tails of their coats fluttering as the backmost door opened slowly. Without hesitation, Oliver reached for the door and held it open for Dinah to slip inside the vehicle. He followed, sliding into the back seat and pulling the door shut behind him. He hadn't even looked up before the SUV started to roll forward, and by the time he discovered three other figures occupying the seats in front of them, the SUV had merged into traffic. 

The men were all dressed the same, in navy blue button downs, black vests and matching slacks. Each had an earpiece, and the way they periodically glanced at each other without a single word told Oliver they were receiving orders from an absent source. It was clear none of the men had any intention of sparking conversation with the couple, and Oliver took one final cautious look around the vehicle before settling back with a sigh. On his left, Dinah pretended to flip through a stack of papers bound together in a plastic folder. Her attention remained on counting the number of streets and turns in their journey in order to formulate an adequate escape plan, should the situation call for a retreat. 

The trip only lasted a few minutes, carrying them from the cache to the outskirts of Gotham's tourist district. The streets soon became lined with outlet stores, restaurants, and hotels, some of which Oliver recognized from previous trips to Gotham. When the SUV finally rolled to a stop in front of a twenty-story hotel with large glass French doors and a fountain in the courtyard, Dinah and Oliver nervously waited for the men to give them permission to exit the vehicle. The driver remained seated while the others departed, one of which opened the back door for Dinah and Oliver. Oliver readjusted the sunglasses over his eyes before stepping onto the pavement. He then offered a hand for Dinah to assist her out of the back seat. After gathering her things, the car pulled away from the hotel, and the blondes were led to the entrance and through the lobby. 

Oliver was so riddled with nerves that he was completely oblivious to the hotel's lavish interior, overlooking the chandelier dripping with crystals overhead and the pair of spiral staircases creeping up either wall to the upper floors. Dinah was particularly drawn to the influx of guests scattered about, taking note of the line trailing off in front of the reception desk of those awaiting check-in. Despite the hotel being in the tourist district, it was no doubt one of the more expensive establishments. There didn't seem to be many children in the hotel, either, as she hadn't caught sight of a single child yet. Perhaps it wasn't exactly an odd occurrence, but something strange enough to pique her interest. 

The elevator paused at the tenth floor, signaling their arrival with a shrill ding and the parting of creaking metal doors. The pair of men stepped out first, and the blondes followed, down a corridor lined with glass-walled rooms sealed behind keypad-entry doors. These weren't guest rooms; they looked to be conference rooms, most likely designated for certain parties hosting meetings or other business matters. As the group neared the end of the hall, two sets of doors on either side were walled off, shielding their contents inside. The men paused at the first, and after typing in a six-digit code, they opened the door and stepped aside for the blondes to enter.