The Careful Implementation of External Pressure

Case #3: Luther Russo.

Case #3: Luther Russo.
Thursday/February/28/2019/6:12PM

Luther Russo just wanted to call his girlfriend and tell her he was going to be late getting home, that work had piled up and he had to finish these reports for his boss, and that he was sorry.

He finished the report he was working on, taking a large gulp of his now cold coffee, and shaking his head to clear his vision when the numbers began to bleed together. He spun around in his chair, picking the phone off his desk and dialing his long-time girlfriends number, already wincing at the perceived anger and disappointment he would receive in the verbal lashing he would get.

He deserved it, he supposed, working late every night like he was. He sighed as the phone rang, Lilly really was too good for him. He was a lucky man.

The phone stopped ringing, and he didn't even get out a single syllable before a cold voice echoed in his ear, "hello?"

Luther froze, hearing what was very obviously not his girlfriends voice filter through the phone, and he shook his head, giving his cold coffee a side glance... maybe he had been working to much. It's not like this was the first wrong number he'd ever called.

"Sorry, wrong number." he managed to choke out, but in the middle of his sentence there was a loud bang from the other side, so he doubted the person on the other end, who sounded strangely young to possess such a tone, heard what he said.

"Cookie! Watch it! You almost hit me!" The person shouted, voice far away and filled with annoyance, but also exasperation, like whatever caused that sound had happened before. Luther startled to his feet when the words spoken were met with a call of bullets.

The woman in the cubicle next to him looked at him strange, and he gave her an apologetic smile, not sure what to do with what he was hearing on the other end of the call.

"Is that not the point of sparing?!" A second voice added, Cookie, maybe?, over the sound of the gun clicking when the chamber ran out of bullets.

"You're supposed to be sparing with Shwam, not me!" The owner of the phone yelled back, before seeming to remember the phone, and their voice returned to the speakers, "sorry, gotta go." Luther nodded, to shocked to manage anything else, and his hands shook with the strangers next words, "oh, and, call this number again and I'll kill you, okay?"

The echo of the call ending bounced around in his head as it repeated again and again, until he found the strength to lower the phone from his ear and drop it back into its place.

Slowly, the threat still echoing in his head, he turned his computer off, rose from his seat, gathered his things, and went home to have dinner with his girlfriend.

-0-0-0-0-

Ty pocketed their cell phone again, just in time to dodge a strike of lighting shot from the fingertips of Sofi from the other side of the area they were sparing in. They responded in kind by barring a few throwing knives next to the younger's head, calling "good technique, but focus more on accuracy than power," over the sounds of the others sparing battles.

"Who was that?" Sofi yelled in reply, ducking to avoid another one of Cookie's stray bullets reflected off Shwam's swords, charging another spell in her left hand.

"Wrong number," Ty replied, unsheathing their katana and charging across the room. The younger welcomed the advance, and all fighting wore matching wicked grins.