A Money Game.

A couple of minutes passed, and the lady stepped out from the hall which she had disappeared into. The clicks of her shoes on the floor announced her approach.

"Right this way, miss. He's ready to see you," the lady gestured, Ryan and Cecil promptly following behind her.

They walked through a thin hall, the linoleum floors now replaced with creaking wood, each step highlighted by the floor's outcry. To the sides of the hall hung proudly on each side of the walls were paintings, depicting union leaders passed.

They stopped at the end of the hall, a door, peeling grey, stood before them. The lady gripped the handle firmly and swung it open, her head peeking into the room.

"They are here," she informed.

"Send them in," a voice echoed from within the room, hoarse and raspy, like the whisper of wind through a neglected alleyway.