The Call - A Little Drabble Do Ya!
Jan. 27th, 2016 08:50 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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section7mfuAlexander Waverly stared unseeing at the newspapers strewn across the conference table. The name he’d expected was absent, yet a sense of foreboding lingered. “Sentimental old grandmother,” he muttered.
His secretary entered, flushed and indignant. “Sir, you've a priority call. She’s very--insistent.”
Satisfaction lit his eyes. “Put her through,” he directed crisply, turning to the microphone. "And trace the call."
He gave his name, and something between a laugh and a sob burst from the speaker. A moment’s pause, then a familiar voice calmly responded. “Uncle Alex, I need you.”
At the long-expected words, his fingers flew across the control panel, setting plans into motion.
His secretary entered, flushed and indignant. “Sir, you've a priority call. She’s very--insistent.”
Satisfaction lit his eyes. “Put her through,” he directed crisply, turning to the microphone. "And trace the call."
He gave his name, and something between a laugh and a sob burst from the speaker. A moment’s pause, then a familiar voice calmly responded. “Uncle Alex, I need you.”
At the long-expected words, his fingers flew across the control panel, setting plans into motion.
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