"Angelina?" a man's voice asks. "What are you doing in here? You're not supposed to be here." He pauses, oblivious to her eyes which dart down to you more than once. "Don't think just because," the door creeps away, but steadies itself again. Suddenly your heartbeat is all you can hear, a powerful percussion through your head. Above, Angelina's face is distressed, almost apologetic. "You don't have any special privileges with me. No excuses." Angelina's fingers flex around the handle. The man inquires, "What's that? What are you doing with that!?"
Angelina readies into firing position, legs firm, arms extended until the muzzle of the device is pressed against the man's chest. She activates the beam and from your low vantage point, all you see is the short beam and the blinding glow before it is all over. Angelina lowers the device to her hip, sighing with a satisfied smile. "Don't tell me what I can't do!" she yells to the floor.
Rolling on your knee, you move around the door and see the man she was addressing. Dressed in formal coat, he must be a teacher or doctor, only an educator several inches tall now, no bigger than your little finger. You look up to your new partner in crime in disbelief. "You really did it." You look back down to the man, who is yelling something skyward. "We had better get out of here!" you decide. "What are we going to do with him?"
Angelina nods and with cold calculation adds, "You go ahead and check the halls, let me know if anyone else is coming. I'll take care of our little friend here." Looking down once more at the miniature man at her mercy, you wonder how it would be if your positions were reversed. You study Angelina's face, a scornful scowl on her dark features, eyes focused on the tiny man cowering below.
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