Novel & Cerita What's In The Briefcase In Pulp Fiction

"Come on. Let me show you what I actually brought back for Maureen." He reached into his duffel, pulling out a heavy, matte-silver briefcase secured with a reinforced dual-combination lock. Dropping it onto a nearby side table, his fingers spun the brass dials with practiced ease. With a soft pneumatic hiss, the heavy latches popped open, revealing custom-cut black foam fitted with several gleaming pieces of hardware. Michael leaned in, his expression instantly freezing into speechlessness. Beside him, Ethan let out an audible gasp.

“You would have to get rid of it, while I go see the cops. Anywhere, but far from this place. It doesn't matter if it's later discovered, but it mustn't be found on you.” He walked over to an oil painting of a nude girl, standing on a cliff, looking down at the sea, and swung the painting on its hinges aside. Behind it was a luxury wall safe. He keyed in his password and got the safe open. The top shelf was stacked full of wads of hundred-dollar bills. On the lower shelf was a pistol. He took out the gun and carefully drew out a wad of hard cash. He closed the safe, turned around to face Natasha, who was standing behind him.

It’s a little early for her to be awake, but I need to talk to Angie before I do something crazy like ask Rio Rafe, Mafia lord, if he loved me. I turn off the water, wrap myself in my bathrobe and go back into the room. Rio is still sleeping soundly, so I decide to turn on a bedside lamp and tiptoe around the room to search for my phone, when I accidently tip over the briefcase Rio had left on the bedside stool. “Shit.” I curse when some papers fall out of it. I bend to gather them that when I notice the images on some of them. My body goes tense with shock.

He pointed at the briefcase laid on the floor. "That briefcase. Could it be it?" He added and 'Scar-Face' hummed a reply before going over to check it out. He opened the black briefcase but there was no diamond in it. What struck his attention was that the pouch in the briefcase was specifically shaped like a diamond, that is to show that this briefcase was made to house a diamond but the diamond wasn't in it. Someone was with it and surely that person hadn't gone far. "Empty." 'Scar-Face' said then flung the briefcase away and it flew across the room.

I stood there, panting, my gun useless in my hand. He was gone. And he had taken the briefcase. I didn't know what was inside. But I knew one thing. The Rat wasn't hiding anymore. The Rat had just defected. And he took my secrets with him.

On top of it, inside a thick glass case, sat the matte-silver briefcase. A small amber light on the front of the case pulsed slowly, like a quiet heartbeat. Victoria De Luca stared at the briefcase. A wave of pure, hot anger rushed through her. Her body went stiff under her black silk gown. “There it is.” Her own weapon, sitting under the stage lights like a cheap piece of stolen jewelry, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder in a room full of criminals. Beside her, Giordano Salvatore sat up straight, his eyes locking onto the stage. The playful look on his face was completely gone.

Penelope began, "But now, I want to resolve this without him getting involved. Let's talk things through and have smooth sailing from here on out." "And by that, you mean?" At Roxanne's question, Penelope snapped her finger and the man in black suit who had been standing behind her walked forward with two black briefcase. He dropped them on the table in between she and Roxanne and peeled the lid open. Inside the briefcase were mint dollar bills, all stacked nicely against each other until there was no single space left in the case.

Paper scatters differently when everyone in the room knows at least one sheet can ruin a bloodline. The briefcase hit the stone hard enough for the latch to split. Pages burst across the pantry floor in a messy white fan—typed statements, old copies, notary forms, insurance extracts, one church transfer slip, and the counter-file Hector had come there to protect. Gabriel kicked the case away first. I got to the counter file second. Hector got a hand on my sleeve.

She does not know that her mother is about to sign away half of everything. Harold Finch walks into the living room. He opens his briefcase on the coffee table. The leather creaks. He pulls out a thick document. The pages are crisp, white, covered in small black print. The document is heavy, substantial, bound with a black ribbon. He handles it carefully, as if it is something precious. As if it is something that could change lives.

He stopped at the sight of the briefcase that was on the floor and he turned to face Chloe. “Didn’t expect to see a briefcase did you?” Syke frowned. “Not at all,” Chloe confessed. “Thought that would be a coffin. Let’s check it out at once.” Syke threw the shovel into the sand and Chloe took the briefcase in her hand. They looked at each other for a minute and then Chloe took the shovel. “Let’s do it yeah?” Syke nodded. Chloe hit the shovel on the briefcase with lol the force she could muster and the lock on it broke away and the briefcase opened up revealing thousands of old dollar notes.