Sebastian Moran (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
precisionfocus) wrote2012-01-19 10:17 pm
precisionfocus) wrote2012-01-19 10:17 pm
< Where there's smoke... >
Sebastian Moran waited.
The faint glow emanating from under one door of the penthouse meant James was at work. Only with express permission or under special circumstances did he enter that room. Even so, he had it memorised.
Three computer monitors-- one at either end and one in the center above another-- showed every move of every room of the penthouse. The monitors one inside ran the news constantly-- one UK, one international. The next inside monitor on the right displayed information on at least forty bank accounts, all of which belonged to the mastermind. On the other side, a constantly updated contact, status, and date tracker ran. The low center screen was used for communicating with clients and arranging immediate plans.
He knew his presence would draw the attention of James Moriarty. Usually, the other man paid him little mind until he got hungry. This time, though, Sebastian had papers spread out over the dining table.
His entire military and psychiatric history. It had been left in his car-- a new car with a keyless entry code-- on the driver's side. Someone was looking into him and telling him about it.
A threat.
The faint glow emanating from under one door of the penthouse meant James was at work. Only with express permission or under special circumstances did he enter that room. Even so, he had it memorised.
Three computer monitors-- one at either end and one in the center above another-- showed every move of every room of the penthouse. The monitors one inside ran the news constantly-- one UK, one international. The next inside monitor on the right displayed information on at least forty bank accounts, all of which belonged to the mastermind. On the other side, a constantly updated contact, status, and date tracker ran. The low center screen was used for communicating with clients and arranging immediate plans.
He knew his presence would draw the attention of James Moriarty. Usually, the other man paid him little mind until he got hungry. This time, though, Sebastian had papers spread out over the dining table.
His entire military and psychiatric history. It had been left in his car-- a new car with a keyless entry code-- on the driver's side. Someone was looking into him and telling him about it.
A threat.