[Gallagher]

Scene 1

Modern setting, inside a coffee shop at lunch. A character has been implanted with a bomb without their knowledge, which will detonate if the character gets scared or leaves the building before 2 o'clock. Don't let that happen.

---

The day was dreary. Or at least, that was the way Kier saw it. It was altogether too bright for the headache he'd woken up with, and the air too cold for his lungs. It wasn't so bad from inside, but even as he waited in line for his turn to order — there were only three others in front of him, thank goodness — he couldn't help but look out of the large front windows, wondering if anyone else was as underwhelmed by the perfect weather as he.

[Lawtan]

Petra was a top-of-the-line security officer. That she was. Nothing wrong ever stayed that way on her watch - well, perhaps that one time. Petra traced her long scar from the mouth to the edge of her cheek. Coupled with blond hair and her navy-blue uniform and onyx pants, her covered figure stunned people, and she enjoyed that.

Petra walked by her leather rolling chair, cold Earl Grey tea on the cherry desk. A note was on it. Cautiously, curiously she crabbed the letter - a mellow piece of parchment. as she lifted it, a pair of pictures - one of a man...and one of a bomb. Slightly disturbed - her coworker, Dirk, would often pull similar pranks to kill the boredom. Petra finished opening the mail. The writing, a fine, orderly script, was not Dirk's...

Petra read the letter to herself;

[Gallagher]

He wasn't even sure what had triggered his headache, now that he thought about it. Sure, the sun usually didn't help, but it was only ever this bad when he had too much reading to do. Last he checked, labs were definitely not reading.

The line moved, and he shuffled forward.

Maybe the drinks last night had something to do with it. Not that he was too bad of a drinker, but he certainly remembered falling asleep on the sofa because his legs had decided they hated him. How he ended up in bed in the morning he couldn't remember, but worse had happened to him before. That was actually lucky.

[Lawtan]

Slowly, Petra's face began to lose color. Reading down a meshed writing in poor English, squinting till her head hurt, Petra realized a type 44 situation was at hand - an alleged bomb threat. She reread the letter, muttering the stipulations on this threat, if it was real;

"Hmm...If knocked out, frightened, or out of the detonator's range before 2:00 PM, EST, the bomb will detonate a 10 ounce RDX explosive putty."

Petra looked around for a phone. She would have to alert managers who would not panic. Data was needed to determine who was the victim...and if he was...Petra didn't want to think about it.

Grabbing a red emergency line, she dialed...

[Gallagher]

It was already half past one, at least according to the weirdly artsy clock on the wall. He had to be back to work by a quarter after, but at the rate this line was moving, he was starting to doubt whether he'd ever get back at all. Speaking of which —

An impatient sound from behind him made Kier blink. He glanced back (a young lady, looking like she had just rolled out of bed at this time of day, that certainly brought back memories), then towards the front of the line as he shuffled forward once again.

[Lawtan]

"Uh-huh."
"Yes, sir, I have reason to believe it is possible."
"...I sent you a picture of the handwriting, and the other images."
"You think so?"
"Very well. Good luck, sir."

Petra disliked her skeptical boss - a doughnut-eating fellow if ever she knew one - but still, he was reliable at finding the people she needed, and his advice rang true. Following his hunch, Petra brought up the security camera for the coffee shop. Again, Petra paled. People stood in three lines of...many, along with a few full tables. It was the start of rush hour. If a bomb went off...

Petra needed to keep all those people in there for 30 minutes while other authorities tried to trace the note. Briefly, she considered advising her superior that only a select group was able to enter the surveillance area, but dismissed the idea. He already knew.

Donning on civilian clothing, Petra grabbed her Samsung and left the white-grey recording room.

[Gallagher]

If, by some miracle, he ever got out of this cramped little shop (which he was sure was getting more packed by the minute), spending the rest of his break wandering around the streets was sounding like a good change of pace. Maybe, if he was granted an especially good miracle, he'd even be able to pick up that mug he had his eye on.

Though, carrying around two cups would probably look strange.

Of all the things to worry about. He snorted at himself, glanced once more at the clock (it had only been three minutes since he last looked, not the three hours it felt like, but he suspected that it was just running slow), and moved up to place his order.

[Lawtan]

Petra twisted around the back staircase. Flying, she banged her arm against the back entrance. It left a numb central feeling, along with a sharp pain up her arm. Cursing, Petra opened the doorway into the back kitchen. The odor of coffee and fragrance of sweet things filled her nose.

Hmm…food…keep in…people…

Petra saw a posted advertisement for special occasions at the café. A plan started in Petra’s mind. Catching the attention of the cook, she wrinkled her face in a concerned look, easy as there was a real potential for danger.

“Sir, my family has a reunion today, and they booked the entire coffeehouse. I am greatly concerned at the large number of unknown people here today, and the lack of celebratory food…” Petra loved pulling this innocent act.

“Oh…um…madam…I’ll…umm…see to this right away.” The man in a white coat and apron said.

“Perhaps, if you start giving everyone more food…” she offered…

“Oh, of course…I’ll…have something for everyone in a few minutes…you might want to talk to the manager, though.”

With that, the cook sprang back into action, cooking at a furious pace. Petra felt it, and grinned. She headed out into the main area…

[Gallagher]

The wait didn't feel nearly as long when he could finally, finally watch his coffee get made. All the same, he wasn't prepared for how full the place still felt when he moved away from the counter and very nearly walked right into a man examining a pastry display.

Crowds. One of the things he hated most in the world.

Which, he had to admit, was a list that only grew the older he became.

There was no way he would hang around in this... this. So, with thoughts of freedom and mildly polluted air filling his lungs, he headed for the door.

[Lawtan]

Petra felt confident. The doors were being locked for the "party" yet no one seemed to notice. Food was piled onto the customers, and it did not seem anyone was leaving. While overseeing the crowd, she felt a buzz in her pocket. A text message – possibly the information she needed. Looking over one last time, she spotted one man, a scrubby fellow, heading for the door. Pushing and dodging through the crowd, she moved to intercept the man.

Being dexterous and swift, Petra reached the entrance before the fellow. Quickly, she gazed at the white glow of the text message. Black pixels read, “Watch for social anxsy. Annuncd bomb likely = such would be victim.” Perta watched as the guy approached, shoulders tense and looking nervous. Reaching out in a friendly gesture, she said, “Hi, I’d like to talk with you for a moment.”

[Gallagher]

He didn't notice the woman by the door until she spoke, a fact which he blamed on his distracting thoughts. That she had just so happened to stand on his bad side didn't help. He blinked, then offered a slight smile. "Hello. I'm sorry, about what?"

[Lawtan]

Petra noticed something - a trace of a scar, perhaps. Not having really thought this through, she took a moment to think about some way to get the man to sit down with her. Almost...she had an idea,

"I noticed you walk around here, shoulder hunched, like you were nervous. It made me think of my little brother, who had social anxiety - it would travel with him and cause him to mess up with work and procrastinate even on his own enjoyment." Petra took a needed breath.

"I thought that, as I learned through helping him, perhaps we could sit down in a quiet corner and I could offer some helpful advice."

Petra leaned against the door, blocking any polite attempt to open it, and awaited a response.

[Gallagher]

"I, uh..." What the fuck? His brows drew together as, quite unconsciously, he squared his shoulders. "Look, I appreciate that you're trying to 'help'," Kier began, his tone anything but grateful when he uttered the word, "but I have no plans of wasting my entire lunch break being kept in some shoe box store and getting lectured by a woman that I don't even know. I don't have anxiety, I just don't like people. Especially people like you that make assumptions about others. Not that that is any of your business, either."

[Lawtan]

Petra, though surprised at the hostility, was not one to be intimidated. Keeping her head cool...barely...she tried another tactic.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I...just saw you and...really would like to get to know you. Your posture and hurry was shouting anxiety, so I thought I could get to know you by offering help."
Petra preyed this tactic would work...

[Gallagher]

He sighed and shifted his weight, his eyes flicking from the woman's face to the door and back again. "That's... sweet. Really. But I don't exactly have time for this. Maybe next time you should just ask someone for their number. I hear guys are usually pretty eager to exchange them."

[Lawtan]

Petra was nervous. She was sure that this man was the victim r target for the bomb threat. Well, her somewhat odd tactics had delayed a nice portion of the time. Perhaps...perhaps if she just told the truth.

"Sir, I know this may make no sense to you, but I need you to please stay here for 10 more minutes. I can explain why afterwards, but until then, please indulge me."

Her patience and pride wore thin, and she knew that if the guy still walked out, she'd knock the stuffing out of him, bomb or no.