Sixteenth Hindsight - Unfinished Manuscript

Everyone has one of these, right?

I’m in the midst of a “vacation” week I’m taking for various reasons, but I also didn’t want to skip out on this entirely. So, I hunted down a snippet from the novel I never completed from a million years ago. I was writing this thing in the 90s between living in California and Prague. I still miss these characters sometimes and wonder how they would have ended up if I ever finished this. I’m presenting this without any editing, for better or worse. Enjoy!

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68. Top O' the World, Ma!
Josephine Allan sat in her newly cleaned office, all trace of the recent carnage gone. Laid out on her desk before her were the remnants of Pris' Virtua-film disk and a taped recording of Victoria's confession. Since the two important pieces of evidence had been in Bonner's breast pocket when she had been killed they had been smashed apart by the bullets. Allan steepled her fingers beneath her chin and smiled.
The newly appointed head clerk of Allan & Co. stood before his boss. A slim, quiet man, his deep blue eyes were steely and hard. His thin yellow hair was swept dramatically back from his forehead. He cleared his throat and shifted his spectacles. Ms. Allan looked up from the debris on her desktop.
"Yes, Towns?" she asked expectantly, knowing the man had something to say. He had already taken to his new position with zeal.
"I am sorry to inform you that Dr. C has be reported dead by a Central African operative," Towns barked out in an army sergeant voice.
Jo's eyebrow rose slightly The faint hiss of air being pushed through nostrils could be heard as she laughed lightly at the situation. "Pity," she finally said.
Towns shifted his weight uncomfortably. "There are bound to be some problems concerning this afternoon's events," he stated.
Ms. Allan waved her right hand at her new right hand man. "It's nothing," she breathed. "Issue a press statement. Something along the lines of an assault on my person during a seemingly innocent business meeting between Bonner and myself. The boys down in public relations are good at their jobs."
"Shall I oversee the operation?" the man asked.
Ms. Allan glared at her new head clerk. "No," she drew out the word. "You stay with me, Towns. You and I," she took her middle finger and laced it around her index, "are like this." She gave him a meaningful look.
Towns inclined his head. "On a slightly less important note, a Ms. Kona Carmen called you back. Apparently you rang her..."
"Put someone on a phone," Allan ordered, "Find her."
"Of course," said Towns. "Anything else?"
"I will tell you when there is," Jo said, looking the paunchy, balding man over. "Leave. I'll get back to you."
Towns inclined his head and left the room hastily.
Allan sat back, on top of the world. With the push of a button on her keyboard, she sent an important message to her agents in Prague and Central Africa. 'Bring my girls home,' was the gist of the order. She knew it would be carried out. She was God, her word was law. The sheer power of her position flowed through her.
"You lose," she said to the spot on her carpet where Bonner had lain.