OOC: Drabbling 2
I guess I'm on a roll, today? (That, and I needed to write something cheery after the last one.)
This little drabble is inspired by this awesome little ditty.
"Great Escape"
When he had first joined Katharon Lyle's contact, Ikeda, had told him not to expect anything too exciting early on. At first he would gather information, do a little recon and a lot of paperwork. And, if he was lucky and showed he had the stuff for it, they'd train him on one of their Mobile Suits. It was a little depressing to be told he shouldn't get his hopes up, but Lyle contented himself with the fact that even this much rebellion would piss off the Feddies if they knew about it.
Not long after he mentioned to a fellow operative, off-handedly, that he had a fast car. That unexpectedly opened the door to some of the more interesting field work.
His phone chirruped urgently. It was the tone he'd picked out specifically for 'special business numbers'. He politely excused himself from the nondescript, balding manager he had been chatting with at this Chamber meeting, left the building, and holed up in a nearby alley to take the call.
"Dylandy speaking."
"You still got that car you were bragging about?" a rushed, harried voice breathed into the receiver.
"I wasn't bragging about it, but sure."
"Got it with you? If so, can you get it to the Parliament buildings in five minutes?"
"I'll be there in four."
"...Really?"
"Hell, yes. I owe it to you guys for getting me out of that dull little meet and greet."
Three minutes and forty-nine seconds later, Lyle came careening down the lane in front of the Parliament buildings in the car that his brother mysteriously left him. As garish as the Lancia's paint job was (really, Neil had no taste) he had to admit that the car could move. He fishtailed to a stop behind a nearby pub, threw open the passenger's side door, and watched in his periphery as Ikeda and some guy with scruffy sideburns and a long coat scooted out of the alleyway beside the dive and half-scrambled, half-dove in. He didn't wait for them to close the door before taking off again. That was their problem.
It seemed the guys were, in fact, smart enough to get themselves situated and secure and, once they did, Lyle pulled out into a wider street and really put the car to the test. Swerving around cars on the more crowded roads, then going close to full speed once he hit the little country roads. He didn't even realize that he'd started laughing until the scruffy guy, apparently convinced that no one was around to see him, popped his head up from where he had ducked in the back.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Lyle shot him a smirk in the rearview. Enjoying himself? This was only the first time he'd felt alive in a long time. He could get used to this sort of thing.
"You could say that. So what did you bastards nearly get caught out at, anyhow?"
"Grabbed a few confidential files before they could be destroyed. Really interesting stuff. I'm Klaus Grado, by the way."
Lyle got the impression that Klaus would have shaken his hand if it didn't mean distracting Lyle from controlling his car at the breakneck speeds they were going at. So he simply nodded in the man's general direction, "Lyle Dylandy. Pleasure playing chauffeur to you knuckleheads."
Ikeda was still slouched down in his seat, knuckles white from gripping the armrests. "The pleasure's all yours, Dylandy. Trust me."
Now it was Klaus's turn to laugh.
This little drabble is inspired by this awesome little ditty.
"Great Escape"
When he had first joined Katharon Lyle's contact, Ikeda, had told him not to expect anything too exciting early on. At first he would gather information, do a little recon and a lot of paperwork. And, if he was lucky and showed he had the stuff for it, they'd train him on one of their Mobile Suits. It was a little depressing to be told he shouldn't get his hopes up, but Lyle contented himself with the fact that even this much rebellion would piss off the Feddies if they knew about it.
Not long after he mentioned to a fellow operative, off-handedly, that he had a fast car. That unexpectedly opened the door to some of the more interesting field work.
His phone chirruped urgently. It was the tone he'd picked out specifically for 'special business numbers'. He politely excused himself from the nondescript, balding manager he had been chatting with at this Chamber meeting, left the building, and holed up in a nearby alley to take the call.
"Dylandy speaking."
"You still got that car you were bragging about?" a rushed, harried voice breathed into the receiver.
"I wasn't bragging about it, but sure."
"Got it with you? If so, can you get it to the Parliament buildings in five minutes?"
"I'll be there in four."
"...Really?"
"Hell, yes. I owe it to you guys for getting me out of that dull little meet and greet."
Three minutes and forty-nine seconds later, Lyle came careening down the lane in front of the Parliament buildings in the car that his brother mysteriously left him. As garish as the Lancia's paint job was (really, Neil had no taste) he had to admit that the car could move. He fishtailed to a stop behind a nearby pub, threw open the passenger's side door, and watched in his periphery as Ikeda and some guy with scruffy sideburns and a long coat scooted out of the alleyway beside the dive and half-scrambled, half-dove in. He didn't wait for them to close the door before taking off again. That was their problem.
It seemed the guys were, in fact, smart enough to get themselves situated and secure and, once they did, Lyle pulled out into a wider street and really put the car to the test. Swerving around cars on the more crowded roads, then going close to full speed once he hit the little country roads. He didn't even realize that he'd started laughing until the scruffy guy, apparently convinced that no one was around to see him, popped his head up from where he had ducked in the back.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Lyle shot him a smirk in the rearview. Enjoying himself? This was only the first time he'd felt alive in a long time. He could get used to this sort of thing.
"You could say that. So what did you bastards nearly get caught out at, anyhow?"
"Grabbed a few confidential files before they could be destroyed. Really interesting stuff. I'm Klaus Grado, by the way."
Lyle got the impression that Klaus would have shaken his hand if it didn't mean distracting Lyle from controlling his car at the breakneck speeds they were going at. So he simply nodded in the man's general direction, "Lyle Dylandy. Pleasure playing chauffeur to you knuckleheads."
Ikeda was still slouched down in his seat, knuckles white from gripping the armrests. "The pleasure's all yours, Dylandy. Trust me."
Now it was Klaus's turn to laugh.