Ghost paled as he arrived at Ignonivich's mansion.
"Shit." It wasn't often he found need to swear, even on the job. He tried to keep himself as calm as possible. He looked around. "They took a wagon. That's why they got here before me." He paused for a moment. "15. Better move fast and hope none of them see me."
He snuck around to the back of Ignonivich's mansion, where the ground floor window was open--just like Ignonivich had said it would be. "Saves you the effort of hauling yourself up and saves me the worry of some passerby seeing your rope and asking questions," Stephen had said. Ghost clambered through, finding himself in an ornate dining room with silver goblets and candles set out.
"What I'd get pawning this off," Ghost muttered. He shook his head slowly, then walked out into the hallway to the staircase. He sighed with relief, seeing that Ignonivich hadn't let them in yet. If he had, they would've come through here first. It was a long hallway, stretching the breadth of the mansion.
Ghost walked up the stairs, then paused as he tried to remember which way Ignonivich's private office was in. It was the only place he could go to drop off the cylinder without worrying about one of his pursuers seeing him. Ignonivich never took people who just knocked on his door out of the blue to his private rooms.
He nodded, then turned and walked to the right. Third door on the left side. Ghost opened it, and stepped into Ignonivich's office, shutting the door as softly as possible.
The chair behind the desk swiveled around to reveal Ignonivich's smiling face. "I'll assume that since the door opens but there is no one for me to see that it's the Ghost? You were successful, then?"
Ghost nodded, then realized Ignonivich couldn't see his face. He pulled the cylinder out of his bag and placed it on the man's desk.
"The job was completed, but I almost got caught. I thought you said the guards were sympathetic."
"I thought they were," Ignonivich said.
"Anyway, I'll need my money," Ghost said.
Ignonivich nodded, and walked over to the side wall of his office and pulled back a painting. He turned the lock on his safe and pulled out a cloth bag. "Your payment, Ghost," he said. "For living up to your name once again."
"It's a job," Ghost said, giving an invisible shrug. He opened the bag and inspected its contents. "Looks real enough."
"It is real enough."
Ghost nodded. Once again, Ignonivich didn't see it. "Nothing against you. It's a habit." He stuffed the bag into his own pack, then turned the knob to walk out the door.
He found himself yanked out into the hall by one of Ignonivich's butlers. Luckily Ghost managed to avoid crashing into him. The butler walked into the office, completely oblivious to Ghost's presence.
"Sir, there are some guests here to see you," the man said. By his tone, Ghost could tell he didn't mean friendly guests.
Ignonivich pursed his lips. "I see."
Ghost walked down the hall, eyes closed and mind racing. "4 minutes left . . ." He didn't want to take another hour off his life just for this--not in a house full of sympathetic people and only a few easily recognizable people trying to kill him.
He paused at the stairwell, then looked up.
"There has to be a roof exit somewhere," he said.
_________________ I'm too damn pretty to die.
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