El Corazon 1/10
El Corazon (1/10)
Author: Amy
Pairing: Orlibean
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened. This has been adapted from the movie Romancing the Stone - it does not belong to me no harm is meant and no money is being made.
Warning: There’s a bit of character death in here. It actually happened before the story starts but it’s mentioned a little graphically in this chapter so the warning is here. And yes I really did it…sorry girls...please don’t hate me.
Beta: The lovely giselleslash all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Romance writer Orlando Bloom travels to Colombia to save his sister who has been kidnapped.
Note: This is for the orlibean Summer Movie Challenge. The movie I chose was Romancing the Stone. There are still plenty of movies to choose from so if you're interested in participating please follow the link above and join the fun.
Thanks to cammissbloom for my lovely banner and icon!
The….End….
The words typed onto the ancient keyboard were accompanied by the loud honking of a nose against tissue.
“Oh, God…that’s good.”
Orlando mumbled as he reread the last few paragraphs he’d just completed, he blew his nose again and wiped at his misty eyes. He was dazed and emotional, just as he always was after a marathon 4 hour run to the completion of a book. He quickly reached over and saved the now completed manuscript in two different places and just as quickly printed out the five pages he’d added since he’d last printed. Satisfied that it was safe, laughter bubbled up around the hasty wipes of the runny nose as excitement over having finished another book coursed through him.
He placed the pages with the rest of the manuscript and reached for the box of Kleenex that had been sitting to the side. He frowned when he realized that he’d once again gone through an entire box without realizing it. With a shrug he stood up and headed towards the bathroom where there would be toilet paper and more Kleenex he could use. If he didn’t blow his nose soon it wouldn’t stop running for days, it was a hold over from his childhood.
He’d created his office out of the extra bedroom in his apartment since he rarely allowed himself to have visitors. The furniture in the room was limited to two pieces, the huge desk he’d set up in the middle of the room with a comfortable chair and ancient computer, and a futon. Any guest would be hard pressed to find the futon however it, along with the rest of the room, was completely covered with clutter.
Orlando barely noticed the clutter; to him it was something else entirely. It was storyline, characterization and research. In every available bit of wall space he’d taped, tacked and in some cases, when it was the only thing he could find, stapled, pieces of paper with handwritten notes, articles, photographs and maps. Lining the floor, because he didn’t have any space on the wall, were the framed blown up copies of his book covers that he got after every publication. He couldn’t bear to part with them so he lined them up on the floor next to each other so he could walk past them to make sure he hadn’t already used an idea.
Every other piece of available space on the floor, the futon and the desk was covered with magazines and books he hadn’t gone through yet, notebooks filled with notes and sketches and even rolls of fabric samples so he could best describe the costumes his female lead Miranda and the other characters could wear. He was very much a tactile person he needed to be able to see and touch things in order for the characters in his head to live and breathe.
Since he’d long since run out of wall space in the office the notes and articles had begun making their way into other parts of the apartment, mostly the notes to himself. He had the tendency to think of something, jot it down on whatever was available and then tape it up in the place where he was when he had thought about it. Elijah, his agent, was forever commenting on finding story ideas taped to the inside of Orlando’s fridge. Most of the time Orlando would forget about them until the he glanced at one at just the right time and the idea would form fully created in his head even after looking at the same piece of paper for months and getting nothing.
Reaching the bathroom down the hall near his bedroom Orlando went directly for the toilet paper roll, frowning to discover that it was empty. He glanced over at the sink though he already knew that there would be no tissue in the box there, he’d used that up days ago.
As he glanced in the direction a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the bathroom mirror caught his eyes. He shuffled over to it as he sniffled peering blearily at the words he’d scrawled across the page. “Miranda goes to Paris??” A grin crossed his lips as an idea took shape, it wasn’t fully formed, he was probably a couple of books away from sending her and David to France, but it was definitely starting to take shape. He took the paper with him as he headed towards the kitchen still on his mission to find something to blow his nose with.
In the kitchen he went over to the sink, this time snorting in disbelief to discover that the paper towel roll was nothing but an empty brown cardboard tube. He sniffed again, desperately trying to think of something he could use to blow his nose. The market place was only a short trip down the street but he hadn’t had a chance to work up to the thought of venturing outside so that was out of the question. He wandered back towards the living room area, stopping to tack the piece of paper in his hand to the cork message area near the phone. He would see it again when the time was right. He blinked at the piece of paper that had been tacked in the dead center of the board where it was intended to not be missed. In large block letters the words “Buy Tissues!!!” screamed back at him. He’d even taken the time to underline it. With a shake of his head in disbelief that he’d managed to miss the note, he reached up to remove it from the board pausing only a moment before he blew his nose against the paper and tossed it in the trash can near the board with a shrug of his shoulders.
Nose taken care of for the moment Orlando felt the sudden urge to celebrate. True there was no one to share the moment with but he was used to that. He wandered back to the fridge and opened the door, leaning in to better examine the contents. He wasn’t hungry really since ordering a ton of Chinese food for lunch and then stuffing himself with it throughout the day was part of his routine on the day of finishing up a book. There was a chocolaty gooey desert in here somewhere though, something his landlord had dropped off from his wife because he’d let her get a sneak peak at the book he was working on. He finally unearthed it from underneath the pile of take out containers that filled up the fridge and with a giggle of glee he started to pull it out. As he did his fingers brushed against a cool glass bottle.
His good mood dampened slightly as he pushed aside the containers blocking it and eyed the bottle of champagne. It had been a gift from Elijah after Orlando had won the Romance Author of the Year award for the second year in a row. Orlando wasn’t much of a drinker but after a stern lecture from Lij about how expensive the bottle was Orlando had decided to hold onto it until his sister Samantha and her husband Karl arrived back home from their honeymoon in South America. Sam and Karl both loved the finer things in life and would appreciate the champagne far more than he could. Now they would never drink it together.
With a sigh he pulled the bottle out along with his gooey desert. If it was as expensive as Elijah had said then it would be a shame to let it sit in the fridge going to waste and he did have reason to celebrate. He certainly didn’t want it still in the fridge when Samantha finally returned home, he’d told her that he was saving it for them and seeing it would only be a reminder of Karl.
He grabbed a glass and popped the top of the bottle. A small smile returned to his face as he heard Elijah’s indignant squawking about how you weren’t supposed to do that. But his agent, and only friend, wasn’t there at the moment and wouldn’t know even when he showed up for their meeting the next day how the bottle had been finally opened. Pausing to pour himself a drink and grab a fork Orlando settled the bottle into the crook of his elbow, held the desert in one hand and the glass in the other and made his wobbly way into the living room.
He dumped the food and the bottle carefully onto his coffee table and then walked to the stereo, locating the proper celebrating music, a soft quartet piece from the last CD he’d bought. As the soft strands started up he walked back over the couch and settled down bringing the gooey desert onto his lap. He had the urge to say a toast but there was no one around to hear it. His eyes searching the empty room he suddenly found himself wishing he’d bought the cat that Samantha was always pressing him to buy so he wouldn’t be alone. Just as he was about to give up his eyes settled upon the life sized cardboard cut out of David from the last book signing, Elijah had taken the one of Miranda home for his brother.
With a shrug Orlando lifted his glass in the direction of the cut out. “Here’s to us Daisy,” he said with a slight smirk. “May our relationship continue to prosper and grow.”
Feeling more than a little silly for toasting thin air he downed his glass of champagne and leaned up against the couch. He sighed, suddenly feeling more alone than he had in a long while. He knew he always felt a little depressed after completing a book and passed it off as that. Pouring himself another drink he stared at the cut out, a bubble of longing coursing through him as he took in the artists’ rendering of the shadowy adventurous man that, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit, he was slightly attracted to. But that was being silly. One couldn’t and shouldn’t be attracted to something that was a figment of your imagination. There was a term for people that thought that way…crazy.
He downed another glass of champagne and quickly poured another one. He made a decision as the champagne bubbled through his system.
The next day he was going to get a cat.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was shaking and rocking. For a moment he thought he was on a boat but the thought only lasted for a second before he realized that there was no way he was on a boat when he’d been in his apartment just the night before. So there was no boat. But there was still rocking.
With a groan Orlando forced open his crusty eyes and glanced in the general direction of where the shaking was coming from. He was greeted by a pair of brilliant, and amused, blue eyes. He groaned again dropping his head back down as the shaking stopped. He frowned as he realized he’d never made it out of the living room the night before after downing the entire contents of the champagne.
“Rough night?” Elijah crowed softly at him.
At least he had the decency to be quiet in his amusement. Orlando cracked one eye and watched as Elijah picked up the bottle of champagne and shook it gently. Orlando’s stomach churned slightly as a slightly annoyed look crossed Elijah’s lips.
“If you were going to down the whole thing in one sitting you could have at least had the decency to call me so I could help…” Elijah groused.
“Well I wasn’t intending to drink the whole thing,” Orlando mumbled tiredly pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I just…had…”
“You have…lines…” Elijah pointed helpfully flipping his fingers and Orlando’s face.
Orlando rolled his eyes but dutifully rubbed at his cheek. “I had the urge to celebrate and I started and….well…I don’t actually remember the rest, really…”
“Well at least you didn’t go wandering around your apartment building naked this time…” Elijah said with a smirk.
“That was one time, Lij, and that was *your* fault!”
“So…weren’t you saving this for something?”
“Yeah,” Orlando mumbled softly to himself. “For Sam and Karl…”
“Oh…” Elijah said softly placing the empty bottle down with a frown. He then picked up the now discarded, and almost completely devoured, desert and with a sly grin thrust it towards Orlando’s face. “So a celebration, huh?”
Orlando felt his stomach roll in complaint as the scent of chocolate and whipped cream hit his nose. He opened his mouth to yell at Elijah but he quickly snapped it shut and took off running towards the bathroom. Elijah’s laughter following him down the hall as he just made it into the bathroom in time to throw up.
“Bastard…” he mumbled as he flushed the toilet a few moments later and scrambled almost blindly for something to wipe his mouth with. He frowned when one of his grandmother’s good wash cloths appeared in front of his face. “I can’t…”
“You’re working on a book which means that you’ve barricaded yourself in your apartment which means that you’re out of tissues, paper towels and toilet paper. Isn’t that right?” Elijah asked with a knowing look and pressed the washcloth towards Orlando again.
Orlando just grunted as he dragged himself to his feet, wet the towel and dabbed his mouth with it. He tossed it into the small hamper he kept in the bathroom for towels and then grabbed his toothbrush and wet it under the spray. Elijah watched him for a moment before boredom drove him out of the room.
“So I know the how and the why,” he called out as he left the room. “But how about the *what* you were celebrating?”
“In the office…” Orlando tried to say over a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Spit, Bloom!” Elijah ordered.
Orlando rolled his eyes but spit out his mouthful of toothpaste. “In the office…on the desk.”
He waited a moment and was a little surprised to not get any further response from Elijah. He hurried to finish brushing his teeth, swished some mouth wash and then headed across the hall to the office. Elijah was standing near the desk flipping through the printed pages he’d left neatly on the desk.
“It’s finished?” Elijah asked with a bit of excitement in his voice
“Yeah,” Orlando answered as he entered the room. “I finished it up last night and had the urge to celebrate.”
Elijah just nodded as he turned the manuscript over and took the last couple of pages and started to read. Orlando rolled his eyes, Elijah always read the last few pages before anything else and it drove him crazy. Elijah claimed that was the best way to see if the book was any good because if it was rushed it meant that there were flaws in the rest of the book as well. Orlando thought that was a flawed thought but he just wrote them so what did he know really.
As Elijah read Orlando moved to one of the piles, picking up a roll of brown butcher paper and twine he rolled it out as best he could on the cluttered desk. With practiced ease he cut the twine without even measuring it, he’d done this so many times he no longer needed to. Elijah set down the papers and Orlando waited expectantly for his reaction. It still had to go through the editors and all of that but if Elijah liked it then it was already gold. After a few moments of contemplation Elijah nodded his head and turned to look at Orlando.
“It’s good, Orli, really good,” he smiled. “You did it again.”
Orlando felt the blush touch his cheeks and to hide his embarrassment at the compliment he busied himself in wrapping the manuscript in the paper so that Elijah would be able to easily slip it into his briefcase.
“Stop that,” Elijah said forcefully. “You’re the number one romance writer in the world. You’ve won the Writer of the Year Award twice in a row. It’s time to stop blushing at the compliments. Be proud of your work…”
Orlando’s head shot up and he glared at Elijah. “I *am* proud of my work.”
“Be proud of *yourself*,” Elijah continued ignoring the glare. “You’ve earned it Orlando.”
Orlando just shrugged his shoulders and finished wrapping up the manuscript, handing it carefully to Elijah who was looking at him with a sad look on his face. “Here, better get that back…” he mumbled softly.
“Orlando…” Elijah tried again in a gentle voice.
“Don’t Elijah,” Orlando said seriously. “I’m really not in the mood today.”
Elijah sighed but said nothing for a moment then a grin spread across his face. “Fine then, if you don’t want an Elijah Lecture, patent pending of course, that’s fine but you’ll have to make it up to me by letting me take you out for coffee and a bagel to celebrate.”
“Really Elijah,” Orlando said with an almost whine. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea I really don’t feel well…”
“You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten and have drunk a gallon of strong black coffee just like you always do when you’re hung over,” Elijah said easily, not even bothering to pretend to listen to Orlando’s argument. “And while we’re out we can hit the market…”
“I am capable of going to the store by myself,” Orlando said with a huff even though a slight bit of anxiety was already settling over him at the thought of leaving the apartment, especially alone. “I don’t need a keeper.”
“I know you don’t,” Elijah reassured him easily. “But you’ve made me a very rich man and you’re probably going to do it twice over again so…the least I can do is help you pick up some toilet paper.”
Orlando tried to remain grumpy and hold back the laughter that threatened to escape at Elijah’s proclamation but he couldn’t and it came out as a giant snort which caused Elijah to laugh as well.
“Okay, okay…” Orlando said holding up his hands in surrender. “But since you’re the rich man you can pay for the coffee.”
“It’s a deal…now go get cleaned up,” Elijah ordered playfully. “This rich man doesn’t want to be seen with someone wearing yesterday’s clothing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Orlando said with a roll of his yes. “I’m going, I’m going.”
He walked back to his room intent on doing a quick change of his clothes and running a brush through his terminally long and messy hair. Who cares what your hair looks like when usually the only person that sees you is the landlord checking to make sure you hadn’t died on his property. It was just easier to let it grow and toss it into a messy ponytail then worrying about styling it or whatever one was supposed to do with hair.
As he got ready he could hear Elijah puttering around in the rest of the apartment. Whenever he visited Elijah would often check for new idea notes and try to push the ones he thought had the most potential to bring him money. It wasn’t that Elijah was all about the bottom line, he was far from it, but it was still important to him that he was making money while Orlando was making the world happy.
Their business relationship had begun 8 years earlier when neither was quite sure how they’d ended up in the romance part of the writing industry. Orlando’s first book, and only non-Miranda novel, had been a surprise hit making quite a bit of money and even landing on the New York Times Bestseller list. He’d been working pretty much independently at that point until the company he was currently working for made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Elijah’s father had been in the business and so Elijah had followed in his footsteps thinking he’d be doing big name bestsellers and had found himself unexpectedly aligned with Orlando.
The relationship had worked out well for everyone. The friendship came soon afterwards Elijah didn’t try to change Orlando too much and Orlando allowed Elijah to act like a big shot without rolling his eyes too much. Early on they’d gone on a couple of dates and there had been several times since then that they’d ended up drunk and in bed together but they both knew that was for comfort only and it didn’t affect their working relationship or the friendship.
Orlando chuckled to himself as he pulled on his change of clothes, still marveling over how it all had happened and how he’d ended up writing romance novels. But they were popular and had made him and Elijah very rich men so he wasn’t about to look down on it and neither was Elijah.
He glanced out the window that looked onto the street below as he pulled on his shirt trying to determine if he’d need a coat or not. The city looked grey and busy as it always did and it was impossible to tell from the 3rd floor what the weather was like on the ground. A couple stopped near the phone booth across the street from his apartment and giggled and kissed. He smiled putting the scene away in his head for possible use if he ever got tired of writing Miranda’s adventures.
A second later he was distracted by a man inside the phone booth. It was one of the few times he’d seen someone using the phone since cell phones had erupted onto the scene. But it wasn’t so much the fact that he was using the phone booth that held Orlando’s attention but the man himself. He was dressed in a full trench coat and matching fedora, even in New York where fashion was a thing of its own did something like that stand out. There was also the fact that the man in the phone booth seemed to be staring directly up at him. The skin on the back of his neck began to crawl as the man continued to look up at him.
“Hey, Bloom, get a move on, okay? I’m hungry!”
The annoyed whine of Elijah’s voice pulled Orlando’s attention from the view outside the window long enough to look in the direction of the door and to answer. “I’ll be right out, Lij!”
He turned back to the window and frowned. The phone booth was empty and the man that had been in it was gone. Orlando laughed and shook his head at his silliness. He’d been spending too much time writing his novels his imagination was beginning to run away from him. The man had been using the phone booth and had been looking at the building that was in front of him because that was the most logical place for him to look. It wasn’t like he was casing the place, or casing Orlando.
“Orlando!”
With another chuckle Orlando grabbed his hairbrush and hurriedly ran it through his hair. Then he hurried out of his room and joined Elijah so that they could leave before Elijah went anymore crazy than he already was.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Viggo watched the two men rush from the building across the street. One seemed less anxious to be out and about than the other but both kept up a steady pace down the street and disappeared from view. He was positive that the more reluctant of the two was Orlando Bloom. He had a copy of Bloom’s latest novel that had his picture on the back of it but they had been two far away to tell for sure but he was fairly certain it was the case.
Deciding to wait until he was sure they weren’t going to double back around and return to their building Viggo decided to hold off for a few minutes before crossing the street. He fiddled with his long jacket and looked at the book in his hands examining every detail of the color photograph. Bloom was good looking for an American, very good looking. It was a pity that they’d never meet. Viggo could think of a few things he’d like to do to Bloom whether he was willing or not.
After a few more minutes of letting those thoughts twist around his gut he shoved the book into his pocket and started across the street. Playtime was over, he had returned to this awful country for a reason he needed to find that which was taken from them and the place to start was inside Bloom’s apartment since they were sure that Urban had sent it home to Bloom to keep both it and his new wife safe.
Urban was no longer a problem and neither would be Bloom if he didn’t give Viggo exactly what he wanted.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Orlando smiled as he watched Elijah flirt with the man working the counter of their favorite coffee house. Orlando knew it would probably be a while before he got his coffee and bagel but he was content to let Elijah play. Elijah worked hard and deserved a few minutes of idle go-nowhere flirting every once in a while. To distract himself Orlando opened up his backpack and pulled out the pile of mail he’d grabbed from the hallway table. It had been a couple of days since he’d gone through it so the pile was quiet large. Most of his important stuff either went to his estate manager or the business address so everything in the pile was either junk mail or of a personal matter. Mostly it was of the junk variety.
He sorted through the pile separating the good stuff from the junk and occasionally stopping to read something that caught his eye so it took him a bit to get to the large bulky bubble envelope at the bottom of the pile. As he reached for it his eyes glanced across the return address label and the hand stilled. All the color drained from his face and he dropped his now shaking hand onto the envelope, but couldn’t bring himself to even pull it closer, much less open it.
“What is it?” Elijah’s worried voice drew him from his thoughts as his friend sat down at the table and dropped the bagels and the coffee onto it. “I glanced over and saw you white as a sheet…what’s wrong? Is it another stalker?”
“No,” Orlando whispered with a quick shake of his head. With shaky fingers he pushed the envelope a little closer to Elijah’s side of the table. “It’s this…it’s from Karl.”
Elijah’s head shot up and his already wide blue eyes seemed to get even more impossibly large from shock. “Karl…but…how…?”
“Its post marked from a couple weeks ago…he must have sent it before…before he…” Orlando couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “It must have…just taken a while to get here from Columbia.”
“How’s Samantha doing?” Elijah asked gently.
“I…I don’t know really. It’s been a week since I spoke with her last, at that time she was doing as well as can be expected I guess,” Orlando answered dully.
“Have they….” Elijah started and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Have they found his body yet?”
“Just pieces,” Orlando said in a strained voice.
Elijah blanched and sat back in his chair. “Is Samantha going to come and stay with you for a while?”
“That was the plan,” Orlando said, thankful for the slight change of subject. “But then I haven’t heard from her so I don’t know when they’ll let her leave. You know Sam. She’ll probably just show up on my doorstep unannounced like she always does.”
Elijah nodded and smiled sadly, his eyes traveled back to the envelope on the table. “Are you going to open it?”
“I…” Orlando started and couldn’t finish.
He knew he had to open it. Karl had sent it to him and whatever was inside the envelope was something that his brother-in-law had wanted him to have. That didn’t change now that Karl had been murdered, it only made it that much more important. With a slight nod at Elijah he pulled the envelope back towards himself and finally picked it up. It was flat and bent easily.
With a deep breath and shaky fingers he opened it and pulled out the contents it contained. It appeared to be folded parchment, not too old from the looks of it but delicate enough that it had been encased in plastic before it was folded and slipped inside the envelope. He unfolded it and stared down at the beautifully drawn map. It appeared to be a treasure map of some kind and that caused Orlando to laugh as he flipped it over and then glanced back inside the empty envelope for a note of explanation from Karl.
“What is it, another map?”
“Yeah…he knows I was thinking about sending Miranda and David on a treasure hunt at some point and I think this was his way if inspiring me,” Orlando explained sadly.
Something tugged uneasily at the back of his head despite his rather sunny answer. Karl was always sending him bits and pieces or stuff he found on his travels that Orlando could use as research. However the conversation about the treasure hunt had taken place over a year earlier and since Karl fancied himself as Indiana Jones he dealt with a lot of maps of this kind so what was so different and important about this one that he sent it to Orlando just days before his death with no note of any kind attached to it.
Nervously Orlando refolded the map and put it back inside the envelope and put the envelope back inside his backpack and zipped it up. He knew his imagination was getting away with him again but until Samantha was back home to shed some light on the map he felt it was better to be safe than sorry. He reached for his cup of coffee, relieved that Elijah hadn’t seen his strange actions.
“You’ll have to write that book,” Elijah said softly after a moment of silence. “And dedicate it to Karl. He’d like that…his name immortalized forever like that.”
Orlando smiled as he imagined Karl’s reaction to his name being in the dedication of the book for the world to see. He would have loved it. “Yeah he really would have.”
Whatever Karl’s reason for sending the map Orlando found himself determined to use it in the next book he wrote and not only dedicate the book to Karl but perhaps write a reoccurring character based upon him. Now that Miranda and David were finally together their relationship and adventures would have to be different and something new would need to be added to the mix and the female population of his readers never seemed to turn up their noses at tall dark and mysterious male characters. He’d make sure that Karl was remembered the way he’d always wanted to be.
That was something that Orlando could give back to Karl even if the other man would never see it for himself.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Viggo was practically growling by the time he opened the door to Bloom’s apartment to leave. He’d just gone through it from top to bottom and the map wasn’t anywhere to be found. Either they’d been mistaken in thinking that Urban had sent it here or Bloom had had it on him when he’d left. That might explain the man’s reluctance in leaving the apartment, today had been the first time in the past three days he’d been watching Bloom that he’d actually left the place.
A smirk crossed Viggo’s face as he realized just what this change of plans meant. It meant that he was going to get a chance to meet the delectable Mr. Bloom after all. That made him feel better as he prepared to shut the door behind him, careful to arrange it the way that he’d found it. He’d return to the room he’d rented down the street to figure out his new game plan and call his associates back in Columbia who were watching the sister. They’d already checked her apartment but he needed to be sure she hadn’t given any signs that she was still in possession of the map herself. He’d still make his presence known to Bloom regardless of what happened, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.
“Hey, that’s Mr. Bloom’s apartment,” came an angry voice from behind him in the hallway. “He doesn’t let anyone in but his sister and Mr. Wood…so I’m thinking you don’t have permission to be in there.”
Viggo turned and cocked his head at the annoying American in ratty jeans and a t-shirt standing behind him. He recognized the man as the building’s landlord. He’d seen Viggo and would be able to recall him to anyone who’d listen including Bloom when he returned. With a wide smirk Viggo reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, he watched with amusement as the man’s eyes grew wide and he took a nervous step backwards.
“Hey now, I’m just doing my job…” the man stammered tensely.
Viggo ignored the plea and advanced on him with cold eyes. This man was now a loose end that needed to be taken care of.
And Viggo had always been good at taking care of loose ends.
* * *
TBC
Forward to: Part Two
Back to: El Corazon Fic Index
Author: Amy
Pairing: Orlibean
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened. This has been adapted from the movie Romancing the Stone - it does not belong to me no harm is meant and no money is being made.
Warning: There’s a bit of character death in here. It actually happened before the story starts but it’s mentioned a little graphically in this chapter so the warning is here. And yes I really did it…sorry girls...please don’t hate me.
Beta: The lovely giselleslash all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Romance writer Orlando Bloom travels to Colombia to save his sister who has been kidnapped.
Note: This is for the orlibean Summer Movie Challenge. The movie I chose was Romancing the Stone. There are still plenty of movies to choose from so if you're interested in participating please follow the link above and join the fun.
Thanks to cammissbloom for my lovely banner and icon!
The….End….
The words typed onto the ancient keyboard were accompanied by the loud honking of a nose against tissue.
“Oh, God…that’s good.”
Orlando mumbled as he reread the last few paragraphs he’d just completed, he blew his nose again and wiped at his misty eyes. He was dazed and emotional, just as he always was after a marathon 4 hour run to the completion of a book. He quickly reached over and saved the now completed manuscript in two different places and just as quickly printed out the five pages he’d added since he’d last printed. Satisfied that it was safe, laughter bubbled up around the hasty wipes of the runny nose as excitement over having finished another book coursed through him.
He placed the pages with the rest of the manuscript and reached for the box of Kleenex that had been sitting to the side. He frowned when he realized that he’d once again gone through an entire box without realizing it. With a shrug he stood up and headed towards the bathroom where there would be toilet paper and more Kleenex he could use. If he didn’t blow his nose soon it wouldn’t stop running for days, it was a hold over from his childhood.
He’d created his office out of the extra bedroom in his apartment since he rarely allowed himself to have visitors. The furniture in the room was limited to two pieces, the huge desk he’d set up in the middle of the room with a comfortable chair and ancient computer, and a futon. Any guest would be hard pressed to find the futon however it, along with the rest of the room, was completely covered with clutter.
Orlando barely noticed the clutter; to him it was something else entirely. It was storyline, characterization and research. In every available bit of wall space he’d taped, tacked and in some cases, when it was the only thing he could find, stapled, pieces of paper with handwritten notes, articles, photographs and maps. Lining the floor, because he didn’t have any space on the wall, were the framed blown up copies of his book covers that he got after every publication. He couldn’t bear to part with them so he lined them up on the floor next to each other so he could walk past them to make sure he hadn’t already used an idea.
Every other piece of available space on the floor, the futon and the desk was covered with magazines and books he hadn’t gone through yet, notebooks filled with notes and sketches and even rolls of fabric samples so he could best describe the costumes his female lead Miranda and the other characters could wear. He was very much a tactile person he needed to be able to see and touch things in order for the characters in his head to live and breathe.
Since he’d long since run out of wall space in the office the notes and articles had begun making their way into other parts of the apartment, mostly the notes to himself. He had the tendency to think of something, jot it down on whatever was available and then tape it up in the place where he was when he had thought about it. Elijah, his agent, was forever commenting on finding story ideas taped to the inside of Orlando’s fridge. Most of the time Orlando would forget about them until the he glanced at one at just the right time and the idea would form fully created in his head even after looking at the same piece of paper for months and getting nothing.
Reaching the bathroom down the hall near his bedroom Orlando went directly for the toilet paper roll, frowning to discover that it was empty. He glanced over at the sink though he already knew that there would be no tissue in the box there, he’d used that up days ago.
As he glanced in the direction a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the bathroom mirror caught his eyes. He shuffled over to it as he sniffled peering blearily at the words he’d scrawled across the page. “Miranda goes to Paris??” A grin crossed his lips as an idea took shape, it wasn’t fully formed, he was probably a couple of books away from sending her and David to France, but it was definitely starting to take shape. He took the paper with him as he headed towards the kitchen still on his mission to find something to blow his nose with.
In the kitchen he went over to the sink, this time snorting in disbelief to discover that the paper towel roll was nothing but an empty brown cardboard tube. He sniffed again, desperately trying to think of something he could use to blow his nose. The market place was only a short trip down the street but he hadn’t had a chance to work up to the thought of venturing outside so that was out of the question. He wandered back towards the living room area, stopping to tack the piece of paper in his hand to the cork message area near the phone. He would see it again when the time was right. He blinked at the piece of paper that had been tacked in the dead center of the board where it was intended to not be missed. In large block letters the words “Buy Tissues!!!” screamed back at him. He’d even taken the time to underline it. With a shake of his head in disbelief that he’d managed to miss the note, he reached up to remove it from the board pausing only a moment before he blew his nose against the paper and tossed it in the trash can near the board with a shrug of his shoulders.
Nose taken care of for the moment Orlando felt the sudden urge to celebrate. True there was no one to share the moment with but he was used to that. He wandered back to the fridge and opened the door, leaning in to better examine the contents. He wasn’t hungry really since ordering a ton of Chinese food for lunch and then stuffing himself with it throughout the day was part of his routine on the day of finishing up a book. There was a chocolaty gooey desert in here somewhere though, something his landlord had dropped off from his wife because he’d let her get a sneak peak at the book he was working on. He finally unearthed it from underneath the pile of take out containers that filled up the fridge and with a giggle of glee he started to pull it out. As he did his fingers brushed against a cool glass bottle.
His good mood dampened slightly as he pushed aside the containers blocking it and eyed the bottle of champagne. It had been a gift from Elijah after Orlando had won the Romance Author of the Year award for the second year in a row. Orlando wasn’t much of a drinker but after a stern lecture from Lij about how expensive the bottle was Orlando had decided to hold onto it until his sister Samantha and her husband Karl arrived back home from their honeymoon in South America. Sam and Karl both loved the finer things in life and would appreciate the champagne far more than he could. Now they would never drink it together.
With a sigh he pulled the bottle out along with his gooey desert. If it was as expensive as Elijah had said then it would be a shame to let it sit in the fridge going to waste and he did have reason to celebrate. He certainly didn’t want it still in the fridge when Samantha finally returned home, he’d told her that he was saving it for them and seeing it would only be a reminder of Karl.
He grabbed a glass and popped the top of the bottle. A small smile returned to his face as he heard Elijah’s indignant squawking about how you weren’t supposed to do that. But his agent, and only friend, wasn’t there at the moment and wouldn’t know even when he showed up for their meeting the next day how the bottle had been finally opened. Pausing to pour himself a drink and grab a fork Orlando settled the bottle into the crook of his elbow, held the desert in one hand and the glass in the other and made his wobbly way into the living room.
He dumped the food and the bottle carefully onto his coffee table and then walked to the stereo, locating the proper celebrating music, a soft quartet piece from the last CD he’d bought. As the soft strands started up he walked back over the couch and settled down bringing the gooey desert onto his lap. He had the urge to say a toast but there was no one around to hear it. His eyes searching the empty room he suddenly found himself wishing he’d bought the cat that Samantha was always pressing him to buy so he wouldn’t be alone. Just as he was about to give up his eyes settled upon the life sized cardboard cut out of David from the last book signing, Elijah had taken the one of Miranda home for his brother.
With a shrug Orlando lifted his glass in the direction of the cut out. “Here’s to us Daisy,” he said with a slight smirk. “May our relationship continue to prosper and grow.”
Feeling more than a little silly for toasting thin air he downed his glass of champagne and leaned up against the couch. He sighed, suddenly feeling more alone than he had in a long while. He knew he always felt a little depressed after completing a book and passed it off as that. Pouring himself another drink he stared at the cut out, a bubble of longing coursing through him as he took in the artists’ rendering of the shadowy adventurous man that, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit, he was slightly attracted to. But that was being silly. One couldn’t and shouldn’t be attracted to something that was a figment of your imagination. There was a term for people that thought that way…crazy.
He downed another glass of champagne and quickly poured another one. He made a decision as the champagne bubbled through his system.
The next day he was going to get a cat.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was shaking and rocking. For a moment he thought he was on a boat but the thought only lasted for a second before he realized that there was no way he was on a boat when he’d been in his apartment just the night before. So there was no boat. But there was still rocking.
With a groan Orlando forced open his crusty eyes and glanced in the general direction of where the shaking was coming from. He was greeted by a pair of brilliant, and amused, blue eyes. He groaned again dropping his head back down as the shaking stopped. He frowned as he realized he’d never made it out of the living room the night before after downing the entire contents of the champagne.
“Rough night?” Elijah crowed softly at him.
At least he had the decency to be quiet in his amusement. Orlando cracked one eye and watched as Elijah picked up the bottle of champagne and shook it gently. Orlando’s stomach churned slightly as a slightly annoyed look crossed Elijah’s lips.
“If you were going to down the whole thing in one sitting you could have at least had the decency to call me so I could help…” Elijah groused.
“Well I wasn’t intending to drink the whole thing,” Orlando mumbled tiredly pulling himself up into a sitting position. “I just…had…”
“You have…lines…” Elijah pointed helpfully flipping his fingers and Orlando’s face.
Orlando rolled his eyes but dutifully rubbed at his cheek. “I had the urge to celebrate and I started and….well…I don’t actually remember the rest, really…”
“Well at least you didn’t go wandering around your apartment building naked this time…” Elijah said with a smirk.
“That was one time, Lij, and that was *your* fault!”
“So…weren’t you saving this for something?”
“Yeah,” Orlando mumbled softly to himself. “For Sam and Karl…”
“Oh…” Elijah said softly placing the empty bottle down with a frown. He then picked up the now discarded, and almost completely devoured, desert and with a sly grin thrust it towards Orlando’s face. “So a celebration, huh?”
Orlando felt his stomach roll in complaint as the scent of chocolate and whipped cream hit his nose. He opened his mouth to yell at Elijah but he quickly snapped it shut and took off running towards the bathroom. Elijah’s laughter following him down the hall as he just made it into the bathroom in time to throw up.
“Bastard…” he mumbled as he flushed the toilet a few moments later and scrambled almost blindly for something to wipe his mouth with. He frowned when one of his grandmother’s good wash cloths appeared in front of his face. “I can’t…”
“You’re working on a book which means that you’ve barricaded yourself in your apartment which means that you’re out of tissues, paper towels and toilet paper. Isn’t that right?” Elijah asked with a knowing look and pressed the washcloth towards Orlando again.
Orlando just grunted as he dragged himself to his feet, wet the towel and dabbed his mouth with it. He tossed it into the small hamper he kept in the bathroom for towels and then grabbed his toothbrush and wet it under the spray. Elijah watched him for a moment before boredom drove him out of the room.
“So I know the how and the why,” he called out as he left the room. “But how about the *what* you were celebrating?”
“In the office…” Orlando tried to say over a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Spit, Bloom!” Elijah ordered.
Orlando rolled his eyes but spit out his mouthful of toothpaste. “In the office…on the desk.”
He waited a moment and was a little surprised to not get any further response from Elijah. He hurried to finish brushing his teeth, swished some mouth wash and then headed across the hall to the office. Elijah was standing near the desk flipping through the printed pages he’d left neatly on the desk.
“It’s finished?” Elijah asked with a bit of excitement in his voice
“Yeah,” Orlando answered as he entered the room. “I finished it up last night and had the urge to celebrate.”
Elijah just nodded as he turned the manuscript over and took the last couple of pages and started to read. Orlando rolled his eyes, Elijah always read the last few pages before anything else and it drove him crazy. Elijah claimed that was the best way to see if the book was any good because if it was rushed it meant that there were flaws in the rest of the book as well. Orlando thought that was a flawed thought but he just wrote them so what did he know really.
As Elijah read Orlando moved to one of the piles, picking up a roll of brown butcher paper and twine he rolled it out as best he could on the cluttered desk. With practiced ease he cut the twine without even measuring it, he’d done this so many times he no longer needed to. Elijah set down the papers and Orlando waited expectantly for his reaction. It still had to go through the editors and all of that but if Elijah liked it then it was already gold. After a few moments of contemplation Elijah nodded his head and turned to look at Orlando.
“It’s good, Orli, really good,” he smiled. “You did it again.”
Orlando felt the blush touch his cheeks and to hide his embarrassment at the compliment he busied himself in wrapping the manuscript in the paper so that Elijah would be able to easily slip it into his briefcase.
“Stop that,” Elijah said forcefully. “You’re the number one romance writer in the world. You’ve won the Writer of the Year Award twice in a row. It’s time to stop blushing at the compliments. Be proud of your work…”
Orlando’s head shot up and he glared at Elijah. “I *am* proud of my work.”
“Be proud of *yourself*,” Elijah continued ignoring the glare. “You’ve earned it Orlando.”
Orlando just shrugged his shoulders and finished wrapping up the manuscript, handing it carefully to Elijah who was looking at him with a sad look on his face. “Here, better get that back…” he mumbled softly.
“Orlando…” Elijah tried again in a gentle voice.
“Don’t Elijah,” Orlando said seriously. “I’m really not in the mood today.”
Elijah sighed but said nothing for a moment then a grin spread across his face. “Fine then, if you don’t want an Elijah Lecture, patent pending of course, that’s fine but you’ll have to make it up to me by letting me take you out for coffee and a bagel to celebrate.”
“Really Elijah,” Orlando said with an almost whine. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea I really don’t feel well…”
“You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten and have drunk a gallon of strong black coffee just like you always do when you’re hung over,” Elijah said easily, not even bothering to pretend to listen to Orlando’s argument. “And while we’re out we can hit the market…”
“I am capable of going to the store by myself,” Orlando said with a huff even though a slight bit of anxiety was already settling over him at the thought of leaving the apartment, especially alone. “I don’t need a keeper.”
“I know you don’t,” Elijah reassured him easily. “But you’ve made me a very rich man and you’re probably going to do it twice over again so…the least I can do is help you pick up some toilet paper.”
Orlando tried to remain grumpy and hold back the laughter that threatened to escape at Elijah’s proclamation but he couldn’t and it came out as a giant snort which caused Elijah to laugh as well.
“Okay, okay…” Orlando said holding up his hands in surrender. “But since you’re the rich man you can pay for the coffee.”
“It’s a deal…now go get cleaned up,” Elijah ordered playfully. “This rich man doesn’t want to be seen with someone wearing yesterday’s clothing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Orlando said with a roll of his yes. “I’m going, I’m going.”
He walked back to his room intent on doing a quick change of his clothes and running a brush through his terminally long and messy hair. Who cares what your hair looks like when usually the only person that sees you is the landlord checking to make sure you hadn’t died on his property. It was just easier to let it grow and toss it into a messy ponytail then worrying about styling it or whatever one was supposed to do with hair.
As he got ready he could hear Elijah puttering around in the rest of the apartment. Whenever he visited Elijah would often check for new idea notes and try to push the ones he thought had the most potential to bring him money. It wasn’t that Elijah was all about the bottom line, he was far from it, but it was still important to him that he was making money while Orlando was making the world happy.
Their business relationship had begun 8 years earlier when neither was quite sure how they’d ended up in the romance part of the writing industry. Orlando’s first book, and only non-Miranda novel, had been a surprise hit making quite a bit of money and even landing on the New York Times Bestseller list. He’d been working pretty much independently at that point until the company he was currently working for made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Elijah’s father had been in the business and so Elijah had followed in his footsteps thinking he’d be doing big name bestsellers and had found himself unexpectedly aligned with Orlando.
The relationship had worked out well for everyone. The friendship came soon afterwards Elijah didn’t try to change Orlando too much and Orlando allowed Elijah to act like a big shot without rolling his eyes too much. Early on they’d gone on a couple of dates and there had been several times since then that they’d ended up drunk and in bed together but they both knew that was for comfort only and it didn’t affect their working relationship or the friendship.
Orlando chuckled to himself as he pulled on his change of clothes, still marveling over how it all had happened and how he’d ended up writing romance novels. But they were popular and had made him and Elijah very rich men so he wasn’t about to look down on it and neither was Elijah.
He glanced out the window that looked onto the street below as he pulled on his shirt trying to determine if he’d need a coat or not. The city looked grey and busy as it always did and it was impossible to tell from the 3rd floor what the weather was like on the ground. A couple stopped near the phone booth across the street from his apartment and giggled and kissed. He smiled putting the scene away in his head for possible use if he ever got tired of writing Miranda’s adventures.
A second later he was distracted by a man inside the phone booth. It was one of the few times he’d seen someone using the phone since cell phones had erupted onto the scene. But it wasn’t so much the fact that he was using the phone booth that held Orlando’s attention but the man himself. He was dressed in a full trench coat and matching fedora, even in New York where fashion was a thing of its own did something like that stand out. There was also the fact that the man in the phone booth seemed to be staring directly up at him. The skin on the back of his neck began to crawl as the man continued to look up at him.
“Hey, Bloom, get a move on, okay? I’m hungry!”
The annoyed whine of Elijah’s voice pulled Orlando’s attention from the view outside the window long enough to look in the direction of the door and to answer. “I’ll be right out, Lij!”
He turned back to the window and frowned. The phone booth was empty and the man that had been in it was gone. Orlando laughed and shook his head at his silliness. He’d been spending too much time writing his novels his imagination was beginning to run away from him. The man had been using the phone booth and had been looking at the building that was in front of him because that was the most logical place for him to look. It wasn’t like he was casing the place, or casing Orlando.
“Orlando!”
With another chuckle Orlando grabbed his hairbrush and hurriedly ran it through his hair. Then he hurried out of his room and joined Elijah so that they could leave before Elijah went anymore crazy than he already was.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Viggo watched the two men rush from the building across the street. One seemed less anxious to be out and about than the other but both kept up a steady pace down the street and disappeared from view. He was positive that the more reluctant of the two was Orlando Bloom. He had a copy of Bloom’s latest novel that had his picture on the back of it but they had been two far away to tell for sure but he was fairly certain it was the case.
Deciding to wait until he was sure they weren’t going to double back around and return to their building Viggo decided to hold off for a few minutes before crossing the street. He fiddled with his long jacket and looked at the book in his hands examining every detail of the color photograph. Bloom was good looking for an American, very good looking. It was a pity that they’d never meet. Viggo could think of a few things he’d like to do to Bloom whether he was willing or not.
After a few more minutes of letting those thoughts twist around his gut he shoved the book into his pocket and started across the street. Playtime was over, he had returned to this awful country for a reason he needed to find that which was taken from them and the place to start was inside Bloom’s apartment since they were sure that Urban had sent it home to Bloom to keep both it and his new wife safe.
Urban was no longer a problem and neither would be Bloom if he didn’t give Viggo exactly what he wanted.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Orlando smiled as he watched Elijah flirt with the man working the counter of their favorite coffee house. Orlando knew it would probably be a while before he got his coffee and bagel but he was content to let Elijah play. Elijah worked hard and deserved a few minutes of idle go-nowhere flirting every once in a while. To distract himself Orlando opened up his backpack and pulled out the pile of mail he’d grabbed from the hallway table. It had been a couple of days since he’d gone through it so the pile was quiet large. Most of his important stuff either went to his estate manager or the business address so everything in the pile was either junk mail or of a personal matter. Mostly it was of the junk variety.
He sorted through the pile separating the good stuff from the junk and occasionally stopping to read something that caught his eye so it took him a bit to get to the large bulky bubble envelope at the bottom of the pile. As he reached for it his eyes glanced across the return address label and the hand stilled. All the color drained from his face and he dropped his now shaking hand onto the envelope, but couldn’t bring himself to even pull it closer, much less open it.
“What is it?” Elijah’s worried voice drew him from his thoughts as his friend sat down at the table and dropped the bagels and the coffee onto it. “I glanced over and saw you white as a sheet…what’s wrong? Is it another stalker?”
“No,” Orlando whispered with a quick shake of his head. With shaky fingers he pushed the envelope a little closer to Elijah’s side of the table. “It’s this…it’s from Karl.”
Elijah’s head shot up and his already wide blue eyes seemed to get even more impossibly large from shock. “Karl…but…how…?”
“Its post marked from a couple weeks ago…he must have sent it before…before he…” Orlando couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “It must have…just taken a while to get here from Columbia.”
“How’s Samantha doing?” Elijah asked gently.
“I…I don’t know really. It’s been a week since I spoke with her last, at that time she was doing as well as can be expected I guess,” Orlando answered dully.
“Have they….” Elijah started and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Have they found his body yet?”
“Just pieces,” Orlando said in a strained voice.
Elijah blanched and sat back in his chair. “Is Samantha going to come and stay with you for a while?”
“That was the plan,” Orlando said, thankful for the slight change of subject. “But then I haven’t heard from her so I don’t know when they’ll let her leave. You know Sam. She’ll probably just show up on my doorstep unannounced like she always does.”
Elijah nodded and smiled sadly, his eyes traveled back to the envelope on the table. “Are you going to open it?”
“I…” Orlando started and couldn’t finish.
He knew he had to open it. Karl had sent it to him and whatever was inside the envelope was something that his brother-in-law had wanted him to have. That didn’t change now that Karl had been murdered, it only made it that much more important. With a slight nod at Elijah he pulled the envelope back towards himself and finally picked it up. It was flat and bent easily.
With a deep breath and shaky fingers he opened it and pulled out the contents it contained. It appeared to be folded parchment, not too old from the looks of it but delicate enough that it had been encased in plastic before it was folded and slipped inside the envelope. He unfolded it and stared down at the beautifully drawn map. It appeared to be a treasure map of some kind and that caused Orlando to laugh as he flipped it over and then glanced back inside the empty envelope for a note of explanation from Karl.
“What is it, another map?”
“Yeah…he knows I was thinking about sending Miranda and David on a treasure hunt at some point and I think this was his way if inspiring me,” Orlando explained sadly.
Something tugged uneasily at the back of his head despite his rather sunny answer. Karl was always sending him bits and pieces or stuff he found on his travels that Orlando could use as research. However the conversation about the treasure hunt had taken place over a year earlier and since Karl fancied himself as Indiana Jones he dealt with a lot of maps of this kind so what was so different and important about this one that he sent it to Orlando just days before his death with no note of any kind attached to it.
Nervously Orlando refolded the map and put it back inside the envelope and put the envelope back inside his backpack and zipped it up. He knew his imagination was getting away with him again but until Samantha was back home to shed some light on the map he felt it was better to be safe than sorry. He reached for his cup of coffee, relieved that Elijah hadn’t seen his strange actions.
“You’ll have to write that book,” Elijah said softly after a moment of silence. “And dedicate it to Karl. He’d like that…his name immortalized forever like that.”
Orlando smiled as he imagined Karl’s reaction to his name being in the dedication of the book for the world to see. He would have loved it. “Yeah he really would have.”
Whatever Karl’s reason for sending the map Orlando found himself determined to use it in the next book he wrote and not only dedicate the book to Karl but perhaps write a reoccurring character based upon him. Now that Miranda and David were finally together their relationship and adventures would have to be different and something new would need to be added to the mix and the female population of his readers never seemed to turn up their noses at tall dark and mysterious male characters. He’d make sure that Karl was remembered the way he’d always wanted to be.
That was something that Orlando could give back to Karl even if the other man would never see it for himself.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Viggo was practically growling by the time he opened the door to Bloom’s apartment to leave. He’d just gone through it from top to bottom and the map wasn’t anywhere to be found. Either they’d been mistaken in thinking that Urban had sent it here or Bloom had had it on him when he’d left. That might explain the man’s reluctance in leaving the apartment, today had been the first time in the past three days he’d been watching Bloom that he’d actually left the place.
A smirk crossed Viggo’s face as he realized just what this change of plans meant. It meant that he was going to get a chance to meet the delectable Mr. Bloom after all. That made him feel better as he prepared to shut the door behind him, careful to arrange it the way that he’d found it. He’d return to the room he’d rented down the street to figure out his new game plan and call his associates back in Columbia who were watching the sister. They’d already checked her apartment but he needed to be sure she hadn’t given any signs that she was still in possession of the map herself. He’d still make his presence known to Bloom regardless of what happened, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.
“Hey, that’s Mr. Bloom’s apartment,” came an angry voice from behind him in the hallway. “He doesn’t let anyone in but his sister and Mr. Wood…so I’m thinking you don’t have permission to be in there.”
Viggo turned and cocked his head at the annoying American in ratty jeans and a t-shirt standing behind him. He recognized the man as the building’s landlord. He’d seen Viggo and would be able to recall him to anyone who’d listen including Bloom when he returned. With a wide smirk Viggo reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, he watched with amusement as the man’s eyes grew wide and he took a nervous step backwards.
“Hey now, I’m just doing my job…” the man stammered tensely.
Viggo ignored the plea and advanced on him with cold eyes. This man was now a loose end that needed to be taken care of.
And Viggo had always been good at taking care of loose ends.
* * *
TBC
Forward to: Part Two
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