Inspiration Monday is back, so I am too. Check out this week’s prompt and other responders here.
I used the prompts Canned Music and Sink Chronos. And, not going to lie, I’ve been watching a large amount of Leverage lately.
“Where were you?” The five members of their crew were at the docks. The duffels full of cash were not.
“I know, I know, my timing was off.” Doug stared at his feet, engrossed in his chosen task of scraping sand into a perfect square. Gulls cried overhead.
Miranda snapped her fingers under the getaway driver’s nose to get his attention. “But we synched our chronos for that exact reason! So how come your timing was off? You screwed the entire team over, we nearly got nabbed and we had to ditch the goods!”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘sunk’, M.” Doug smirked. He was always happy to be able to correct Miss high-and-mighty. She was always acting like she was better than him, but really, how could any job go according to plan, no matter how good her plan was, without a good getaway driver. And Doug was great. Most of the time.
“The past tense of sink is ‘sunk’, Miranda. Say what you may about your higher education, but I learned plenty in high school.” He snorted. “Sinked, ha!”
Miranda’s face darkened and Doug gulped. Maybe right after a botched job wasn’t the time to rub it in. “When did I use the word ‘sink’, Doug?” Her voice was a warning, but Doug was riding the high of correcting her, and didn’t hear it.
“You radio-ed in and told us the time was 12:01, and said sink chronos on my mark, 3, 2, 1, mark.”
The rest of the crew’s expressions had become stormy. Miranda’s expression was homicidal. “And you…”
“Threw my watch in the lake.” The entire crew took an ominous step forward, and Doug shifted nervously, adding, “If I’d known we were getting rid of our watches, I’d have made sure the clock on the getaway van was functional. I just had to kind of wing it, y’know? After you guys went radio silent. I really did my best, you guys, but it’s hard to time things without anything to measure off of. I based the 40 minutes off how many songs got played on the radio. Luckily all this canned music they play on the radio is pretty standard at 3 minutes. Though the commercials kind of threw me off a bit. I think that’s where I went wrong.”
Sam, the crew’s heavy, guffawed. Doug was relieved that someone in the crew could appreciate the humour of Miranda’s screw-up.
“I’m going to kill him,” the weapons expert said, drawing his gun and moving forward.
Doug lost his smile and backed away, madly waving his hands in denial. “Guys! Sam no! Isn’t anyone going to stand up for me?”
Miranda folded her arms. The other two took a step back.
Their safe hacker, normally anti-violence, said, “Let me put my ear plugs in first, I can’t afford any hearing loss.” She didn’t even look at Doug as she pulled a box from one of her vest pockets.
Doug burst into tears. Miranda sighed and he felt a brief moment of hope. “You won’t let him do it, will you? I’m so sorry, I don’t know why you guys are so angry at me!”
She stepped forward, her face calm. “We’re not going to kill you, Doug.” She took him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. “S-Y-N-C-H. But I hope you’ll S-I-N-K.”
“Hah, Oh, geez, homonyms, eh? Whatcha gonna d-” Miranda shoved him, hard, and Doug yelped as he cartwheeled over the short curb on the top of the dock wall.
Miranda and the rest of the crew headed back towards the getaway van.
“Guys?” Doug called, treading water with difficulty and trying to find a grip on the tall sheet piling dockwall. “Guys, you’re not gonna just leave me here, are you? It’s not my fault, it was homonyms!”
An engine started nearby and a vehicle drove away.