Author Topic: "Dear Mr. Fenner..."  (Read 138 times)

Reserve XI

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"Dear Mr. Fenner..."
« on: November 19, 2009, 10:33:12 PM »
    "...about that article you wrote."[/list:u]

    Rennault office was large and richly furnished. The walls were lined with different items produced by Reserve XI, weapons mostly. The northern wall wasn?t a wall at all, but one large window that spanned from the west end of the room, to the east wall. Set in the center of the room was a single, large desk with three computers and monitors set to the right side, a phone beside them, and a laptop generally set to the right. In the center of the ebony wood desk was a screen, set into the wood itself.

    Beside the screen sat the latest edition of the Rhy?Din Post, which was currently opened to an article titled: Reserve XI: The Truest Characters of Ignorance. Rennault Ra'al sat in the leather chair behind the desk, fingers drumming lightly against the picture of Darien Fenner while his other hand tapped the screen set into the center of his desk. He was currently searching the database for a certain phone number.

    Finally finding the number he was looking for, Rennault double tapped the name on the touch-sensitive display screen, and then picked up his phone.  He heard a brief dial tone before the sound of numbers being dialed followed. As the phone rang, he pulled the paper to the side to sit in front of him. Finally, someone answered.


    ?David? It?s Rennault."

    ?Oh, Mr. Ra'al. Hello, how can I help you?? Asked David.

    ?I have a problem that needs taking care of.?

    ?Problems are my forte, Mr. Ra'al.?

    ?This problem?s name is Darien Fenner. Heard of him??

    ?The guy who writes for the Post??

    ?Yes. That?s the one.?

    ?I read the article. How soon do you want it done??

    ?Tomorrow morning.?

    ?Kind of sudden, isn?t it??

    ?Children don?t learn if they aren?t reprimanded quickly.?

    ?Understood. I?ll take care of it.?

    ?Thank you, David. Say hello to the wife for me.?
    ?Goodnight, Mr. Ra'al.?

    ?Goodnight, David.? Rennault hung up and put the phone back down, then leaned back and read over the article once again.

    He left his office a few minutes later, taking the elevator down to the lobby of Reserve XI?s Rhy?Din building. Outside, his car was already waiting for him, with George, his driver holding the door open.

    ?Good evening, isn?t it, Mr. Ra'al?? George asked while the executive of Reserve XI slipped into the back seat of the vehicle.

    ?Indeed it is, George.?  Rennault replied just before his driver closed the door and walked around to slip into the driver?s seat.

    ?Will we be visiting Ms. Sokol this evening?? George asked as he pulled the seat belt across his chest and buckled it.

    ?Not tonight, George. Just home for me.?

    ?Yes, Mr. Ra'al.?

    And then George drove Rennaultl to his apartment, where the executive got out, enjoyed a glass of scotch, and went to bed. He was eased by the knowledge that David, a very competent hitman would be rigging up a way to dispatch of Darien Fenner.

    Darien Fenner

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    Re: "Dear Mr. Fenner..."
    « Reply #1 on: November 20, 2009, 12:17:36 AM »
    It was a brilliant day outside, and Darien was stuck on his cell phone.

    ?No. I want it on page two, or it?s no deal! I don?t care what the editor says. If Michael wants to change up me article, then ?e can find ?imself another journo. No, ya tell ?im that?s what I said. I guarantee ya ?e?ll be singin? a different tune by tomorr?a. Fine. Yeh, you call me back in ten.?

    He grumbled and punched the off button, then shoved it back into the pocket of his khakis as he walked out of the doorway to his apartment. He took the concrete steps by two, finally winding up on the ground with a perfect smile. Keychain jingling on the knuckle of his thumb, Darien practically bounced over to his glorious 2009 Suzuki Hayabusa. Its black and glossy finish reflected the sun magnificently, and the Aussie chanced a loving stroke of the handlebars.

    ?Bet ya missed me, didn?t ya, baby? Let?s tear up this town a bit, yeh? Haven?t seen ya go over sixty in a long time.?

    He swung a leg over the motorcycle and mounted it, gently sliding the key into the ignition and turning. Darien grinned as he felt the engine hum to life between his legs.

    ?Sound like ya need a tune-up, don?tcha babe? Let?s take good care ?o? ya today. Although I?m stuffed if I can find a flippin? mechanic in this dump.?

    He gave a twist to the throttle, revving the engine once. After pulling the kickstand up, Darien paused.

    ?Oh, crap. Me ?elmet. Hang on, baby. I?ll be roight back. You just stay ?eah, yeh??

    Laying a kiss between the handlebars, the journalist put the kickstand down again and swung a leg back over. Once he walked two feet away from the bike, he heard a click.

    The next thing Darien was aware of was a thunderous roar that accompanied a scorching feeling on his back. It was followed closely by a feeling of weightlessness-- right before the ground flew at him full force, and smashed into his skull. Or maybe he into it. Who knew?

    With a groan, the Aussie reached to his head and felt something warm and wet oozing past his ear. His back was on fire.

    No, it was really on fire.

    Grunting, Darien rolled over to put out the flames. That was when he saw it.

    Eyes widened as he stared at the twisted heap of molten metal that his bike used to be. An explosion had scattered its parts yards around him.

    Motorcycle parts. They could have been his parts.

    Things like this don?t just happen.

    Darien Fenner

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    Motorcycle Bombing in Downtown RhyDin
    « Reply #2 on: November 22, 2009, 02:50:41 PM »
    Motorcycle Bombing in Downtown RhyDin

    [size=9]Junior Columnist: Ashley Weatherl[/size]

    One victim was wounded on November 20 when a motorcycle bomb exploded near a collection of townhouses in eastern Town Center, police have said.

    The attack occurred at around 8:30 am in the predominantly modern residential district near the intersection of Olive Street and 23rd. The victim was transported via EMS to a local healthcare facility while the Watch investigated.

    ?The device is definitely man-made,? Eugene Shawl, forensic scientist for the RhyDin Watch, said. ?There is no doubt about it-- this was no mechanical malfunction.?

    No word yet on possible suspects. The victim remains in stable condition.

    Indiscretion XI

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    Re: "Dear Mr. Fenner..."
    « Reply #3 on: November 26, 2009, 02:41:42 PM »
    " Mikhail did what?" Natasha sent Dillon an incredulous look over the rim of her tea cup.

    " Mr. Crowlinn sent David after Mr. Fenner. Celeste appologizes for the lateness of the information. Apparently your brother forced her to take a week long vacation." Dillon had the grace to look sheepish as he served up Natasha's breakfast. "She phoned the first chance she got. "

    " No, no. It's not her fault. I'm sure Mikhail did it on purpose." She waved his concern away and picked up the morning paper flipping through it as she gave the situation some thought. " I don't know what he was thinking though. That is so like something Mama would do that I'm shocked really. I gave Brother Dearest too much credit."

    " Attacking the reporter so shortly after the article came out is not his most shinning moment."

    " I rather liked Mr. Fenner's article. It was almost like a comedy piece. We should send him a gift. One of those ivy things twisted into interesting shapes. Maybe a giraffe. I like giraffes." She put down the paper and looked at Dillon. " Bring the card to me before you send it."


    It took Dillon almost until lunch to find an ivy shaped like a giraffe. Natasha's whims often sent him on wild goose chases.  Seven flower shops later he had it and an appropriately professional, but still personal looking card on her desk.

    "Oh perfect! You found one then?" She looked over the card before picking up the pen and scrawling a message in the card.

    Dearest Mr. Fenner,

       I just adored your article despite the fact that it was less than flattering to our company. That Is probably my fault. Public relations are not my usual field and I was less than prepared for the interview. If you've the time I'd love to have tea with you again an clarify any points you may have had questions on. You have my number.

    Natasha Ra'al

    "Have this delivered right away Dillon."
    "Indiscretion is not the same thing as brain damage."