Previously… (1) Imogen
Five pairs of eyes shifted en masse from a map-tacked table, as Imogen pushed Leo forward with the pistol.
“Men’s choir practice?” Imogen said, lips quirking as she looked each over with a dismissive eye. “Quite the crepuscular lair, though.”
Anything but ordinary, the tallest man, with sharp osprey eyes and a wild crest of copper dreads, arched an eyebrow at Leo.
“Bringing the wife to play?” he said.
Leo grinned and mimed playing a violin.
“I doubt you’d enjoy my form of play, Lieutenant Ford,” Imogen said, shoving Leo to his knees. “Now, hand over that map.”
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: ordinary, crepuscular, violin)