Plummeting Skirmish

Tired and exhausted, Glen pressed the down button. He groaned when there was no immediate ding. After a lengthy shift, he wanted nothing more than to return home and collapse into bed. Glen stumbled to the folding chair propped against the wall across from the elevator. He pulled it out and sat down while he waited for the old and creaking elevator’s arrival. The elevator bell dinged after what felt like an interminable wait. He rose and repositioned the chair against the wall. When the doors slid apart, Glen noticed a man and a woman inside. He waited for a moment, but neither moved to escape the confines, so he sauntered inside. Glen glanced at the floor buttons, realizing that only the ground floor one glowed. He smiled as he took a position near the rear of the car, to wait for the doors to close and the car to resume its trip towards the lobby. Two floors later, the elevator stopped. When the doors slid apart, Glen glanced up, seeing a man glide into the car. He flashed the newcomer a polite smile. The stranger returned the gesture before spinning about to obscure his face. Glen shrugged, slouched to the wall, and waited for the elevator to resume its march. As the car descended, the new figure pulled something out of his jacket and flicked his wrist. The little tube in his hand extended, and his arm flicked like a whip, smashing the video camera. After disarming the security’s eyes, he spun towards the other man, his lips curled into a snarl. “Kent, I want the key!” “You can’t have it, Jon.” The last figure in the elevator backed into its far corner, wrapping his arms around his suitcase as if it were a diamond. “Please don’t do this.” However, Jon ignored Kent’s plea and struck his arm with the baton. When the rod hit Kent’s shoulder, both he and the woman screamed. Jon turned towards a stunned Glen and the woman, his eyes burning with rage. “If either of you wants to walk away from this, mind your own business...