They tore down the footpath, wheels spinning in the mud, sending it cascading everywhere. The riders circled the bench, revving the bikes before coming to a screeching stop. The accountant visibly flinched, hunching over even further, clutching the folder to himself like a shield.
When the riders dismounted and came to stand in front of the accountant, I swore under my breath. They hadn’t removed their nondescript black helmets, so we had no way of identifying who they were. Indistinct words filtered through to me, caught on the breeze, but the rain was falling harder, rattling on the hulls and lashing against the churning waters, muffling the sounds of talking.
My phone was slippery in my grip, water dripping onto it from the hedge I was pressed up against, but I managed to type out a text.
Me:
Can anyone else hear anything?
Arson:
Nothing. Rain’s too fucking loud
King:
I’m too far away. This was a bad idea
Me:
Should we confront them?
King:
Not unless we have to. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with yet. Keep filming and taking photos
One of the three riders seemed to be having a discussion with the accountant, gesturing with their hands. The other two stood completely still, arms folded across their chests, facing the entry and exit points. Lookouts, then. I watched as the accountant unzipped the folder, shielding it from the rain. The figure he was talking to peered inside for a moment before jerking their head in a nod. They zipped it back up and then tucked it inside their leather jacket before taking a small backpack from their shoulders and handing it to the accountant.
As soon as the items exchanged hands, the accountant backed away, stumbling on the uneven ground. He turned towards the path, hurrying out of the clearing.
We couldn’t go after him without giving our presence away to the riders, and we were only supposed to be here to observe, anyway. But Nova needed to know.
As I began tapping out a message, a notification appeared on my phone.
King:
Nova. Accountant heading your way. Don’t be seen. Everyone hold your positions
N:
Got it
I continued filming as the three figures huddled together, their bikes temporarily forgotten. It was impossible to get a read on them, in their nondescript black clothes with helmets obscuring their faces. Shifting in mycrouch, I wiped at my phone screen so I could send another text.
Me:
We need to find out who these people are. Can’t hear anything or see anything identifiable
Arson:
Yeah. I can’t pick up anything
King:
As much as I hate to say it, you’re right. Be careful. They have bikes and they may be armed. Block the exit if you can but stay safe. I’ll cover you from the back. Nova, stay in the car no matter what. Everyone got it?
Me:
Yes
