The FBI was on its way to seize the enterprise's documents and electronics. A few company true believers were busily feeding paper to shredders, but most were high-tailing it out of there--with some detours. Casey caught Mitchell raiding the HR head's stash of European chocolates and alcohol.
"Don't just stand there #gaping, help yourself!" he said. "What did HR ever do for us, exactly, huh? And now we're not even gonna be able to put this crummy job on our resumes."
So maybe that wasn't a bad idea, but chocolates and booze were thinking too small.
I headed for the CEO's office and stared at the #gaping vacancy on the wall where the Rembrandt had been.
Too late.
@NaraMoore π
"No, it was missing when I got here, I swear! No of course I didn't know it was stolen! Though knowing our CEO, yeah, my bad; I should have guessed.
And no, I don't have the faintest idea who might have taken it."
I was exhausted. And cursing the lucky bastard who got to the CEO's office before me...
A week later, I faced an art dealer I'd met. On the table was a small Harrison Bird Brown painting. A lesser artist, but still valuable.
"What do you mean it's a forgery!"
D-mn, I didn't have any luck. It was as bogus as the stock we had been paid with.
Asakiyume
NaraMoore β©οΈπ»ε
«ε°Ίζ§π»β©οΈ at Fedi
Arnim Sommer πͺπΊ