May I Speak with Your Manager?

The car idled while the two women waited on further data.

The duo sat outside Flynt Enterprises in a vintage Corvette Stingray. The Cherry Red ride would draw looks, if this side of the city wasn't already packed to the gills with flashy cars. A tall Black woman sat in the driver seat, eyes glowing a soft violet. A small smile curved her lips as she tapped a hand on the steering wheel. Her passenger was a small blonde woman with a silver bionic leg. Her hands were folded in her lap, green eyes staring directly at the building. Both listened to the radio pound out a hard metal song. Lots of guitars and heavy drums pounded just enough to jolt the car ever slightly with each riff.

As the driver was about to sing along, a chirp came from the dash. The blonde's hand lashed out and grabbed the transceiver. The Black woman gave up her routine and looked over to her passenger.

"Yes?" the blonde said softly. "This is Muse. Updates?"

"Well, senorita, I was hoping Sara would be the one to grab the radio," the voice on the other end sounded. "I should have figured you'd be faster. Would you mind putting her on?"

Muse passed the phone over to Sara without a word. The driver smiled and twirled a finger through her long curly hair. The blonde fixed her gaze back onto the Flynt building after an imperceptible glance at her comrade.

"Heya Smith," Sara beamed. "What's going down?"

"Nothing much, babe," a smiling voice responded. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing much for us, too. Been quiet these last couple hours. To be honest, Muse leaves a little to be desired in the convo circuit. Sorry, sister."

"It's fine," the woman responded softly.

"Anyways," Sara continued," you got anything more to say than hi? Don't get me wrong, love hearing you. But I am getting a bit antsy just sitting here and waiting for something to happen."

"In that case, do I have news for you! She's currently on the move."

Sara could hear a clicking through the phone. Muse's leg started tapping. A few more keystrokes and it stopped.

"She was in the head honcho's office for a while," Smith continued. "Now the signal's headed down through the building. Can't pick anything up now. If you two can get yourselves up there somehow, It would be great recon. Remember, babe. Recon. That doesn't mean smashing skulls and taking names. We sent you ladies out there because Raul knows there's something going on higher than his clearance gets. Don't want you getting caught right in front of him."

Sara rolled her eyes. She loved Smith, but that chair he sat in blocked out the whole world. The two women would be fine. She thanked her comrade and put the phone back in its cradle. Muse, sensing action, began opening her car door. Sara killed the engine and followed suit.

Within a minute, both were inside the lobby.

Black and white marble tiles crisscrossed the massive space. All round were plush tables and chairs for waiting and spontaneous meetings. Off to the right was a themed diner, complete with businessmen on break. Monitors were blaring sports highlights right next to stock prices. Several of the patrons were taking bets among themselves on the rise and fall of said prices. Thankfully, they were too busy to notice the newcomers. Even though Muse had opted for a nice green dress, Sara’s orange parka over jeans was a clear sign she didn’t belong.

Both women headed for the desk at the back of the lobby.

Behind it sat a ginormous mural that rose for several stories. In the corner was a digital clock the size of the sun, beaming down onto the ground. A poor looking man sat under a tree sleeping, while a dozen men were toiling underground. In their minecarts lay glittering gems and crystals, all represented by real precious stones. In the other corner was a quote from the founder of the business.

'Those who fail to toil leave bad soil.'

All in all, the place reeked of old money.

Muse had tried preparing herself. Yet seeing the three Lookalikes was more than she could bear. She began to shake in some emotion that she couldn’t place. Sara noticed and patted her comrade on the back. Muse jumped a bit, then settled herself. Smoothing out her dress, she strode forward to the Lookalike manning the front desk. The spitting image of those in Erik's penthouse, though wearing a business suit with wide shoulder-pads. Her gaze shifted to follow the newcomers.

A plastic smile etched itself on her face as her eyes glowed a deeper green.

"Welcome to Flynt enterprises!" she chirped. "How can I be of service?"

Muse glared at the woman and tapped her leg twice. The Lookalikes' eyes flashed a deep violet. She stood and strode through the door behind her. Sara and Muse followed.

"I still cannot believe you can do that type of stuff," Sara whispered.

"Just make sure I don't run into the boss," Muse replied. "I don't want to run into the boss."

The driver nodded with a smile on her face.

The secretary led them back into a small office all staffed by Lookalikes. Sara's usual smile grew a bit cold at the scene. Raul had introduced the poor girl and explained her situation to the team only a few weeks ago. Sara would have never imagined it being real. Even so, here they were in the belly of the beast.

Each girl, thanks to Muse's intervention, couldn't see them. They were treated as just another part of the working force. Muse said nothing. Her face remained set in a slight frown. Yet it was her unimplanted eyes that showed a hint of something Sara couldn't place. Before she had time to fully study her comrade, the Lookalike had led them to an elevator. She stepped in front of the button and pressed it. Her task finished, she stood as still as a stone.

Sara and Muse remained silent while the lift rose to meet them. The doors slid open to reveal a custom interior. Plush carpeting, soft lighting, and mild rock showed the decadence of the place. A small fridge was even built into the back. Sara shook her head. Even knowing the inside scoop, this still burned her butt. Muse said nothing as she stepped inside. When prompted for a code, she once again tapped her left foot. The Lookalike soundlessly put it in.

Sara watched the doors close silently. It didn't even feel like they were moving. The driver knew where that Friday thing went, so did Flynt. So with them both out of his office, there was nothing preventing them from getting dirt on what the Suits were up to behind the scenes. She leaned against the side of the elevator and folded her arms. Hopefully when they reached the top of the building, Muse would be able to reach Smith with her transceiver. 

The blonde woman, on the other hand, was focused on what could go wrong. Flynt might show back up with an army. His files were all off in some other corner basement of the countless corporations he ran. There would be nothing, and the two woman would be forced to run.

Both were so lost in thought they never realized they were headed down into the bowels of Flynt Enterprises instead of its highest peak.