Back Alley Dancers
Anya never did enjoy these types of missions, the ones where she could not have her gun or knives at her side. But the building she was in the process of infiltrating had thorough security. If she wanted weapons, she would need to get them as she went. Her mission was to acquire information concerning a certain defector, who had vanished off the radar. The intelligence she sought was in the form of Kris Chomsky, a suspected double agent, who helped his boss, her target, book a secret flight out of the country.
She sighed heavily as she walked up the stairs and thought, 'What a boring mission. Next time, I’m begging for a more enjoyable one.' It did not help that she was already in a foul mood.
When she made it to the sixth floor, she noticed that there was a closed circuit camera on her left. Without missing a beat in her step, she planned out how she could the pick the lock without being noticed. Casually she paused and looked in her purse, where she pulled her lock-pick from the lining. Shielding it from view, she slipped the small contraption into the keyhole and with a slight turn and twitch, the door was open, on the camera it would have looked as though she only had some minor trouble with her key.
'Even the lock was easy,' she thought in disgust. 'Now, to find dear little Kris.'
She stormed down the hall to room 613 and knocked. There was no answer so she stepped cautiously in, the door mysteriously unlocked. Closing the door quietly, she looked around at the papers on the desk and the computer. There would not be time to download files from the hard-drive. The target was leaving soon. Perhaps he was already gone. So she had to work quickly.
Then she noticed it. A phone-book was left open. She grabbed the phone and hit redial.
It rang once and a man’s voice answered. “Kris, what’s going on? Are you on your way yet?” The man on the other line sounded stressed.
Anya slammed down the phone onto the receiver. He must still be in the building!
Kris stroked his sable hair nervously, as he walked down the hall. He only had this one chance to get away. He opened the door into the alley and clicked the button on his key ring to turn the ignition in his white Bimmer. He was about to open the car door when he heard the rattling fire escape from above.
Just as he looked up, Anya pounced from the fire escape to the top of his car, denting the roof. He backed away in fear and ran a short distance, ripped out his gun from under his coat. He spun around and took aim at the approaching woman. He pulled the trigger as she she ducked to the side, and the left headlight shattered. Then as she was right in front of him she high kicked, launching his gun into the air. She slammed her raised leg down on his shoulder, knocking him to his knees. She caught the gun as it fell back down then executed him with bullet to the head.
“Ah...” she sighed in ecstasy. Finally she got to have the feeling of a gun’s recoil in her hands. She searched his pockets and found a flight ticket.
“I suppose this means I’m done.” She said, grabbing her cell phone.
The sun had long set as Aleksei tread down the quiet streets. He had gone to a dozen large open venues in the city, and still no one was following him. How else could he have attracted attention? He had thought of several things he could do, but anything that would get him noticed would also have him arrested. And he decided it would be unwise his ability in public. That could get very messy. Maybe he could have worked his way in front of a news camera, but it was a slim chance to just happen to come upon a newscast. As the night grew darker, he sought a place to sleep for the night, a youth hostel or a shelter.
But there was no great sense of urgency. Even with the darkness, he kept a near invisible layer of vapour along the ground so he would be alerted to any movement. Furthermore, he did not seem to be bothered by the cold night air. Somehow temperatures did not have any effect on him. He always felt comfortable, like his body was adjusting for the temperature changes.
Aleksei stopped momentarily. Someone was following him. He smiled, 'At last!'
He walked into an alley. Fortuitously, there was a long puddle running down its length.
'This could work,' He considered. 'But he probably has a gun.'
He sat in the shadows and made a thick column of steam suspend itself at the opposite end of the alley. It was thick enough to leave a shadow from the streetlight shining behind it. He strained to give it the approximate shape of a man.
The agent stepped into the alley eagerly. Now was his chance to finally graduate from internship. He almost shook in excitement, but remembered to keep his cool. He glanced cautiously around and then noticed the dark figure in the alley. Then a swirling torrent of fog started to rise from the puddle and move towards him, from the figure. He raised his gun quickly and shot. Direct hit.
Aleksei felt how the projectile travelled through his decoy and realised it was too slow and large to be a bullet. The information travelled to him through the vapour along the ground, like tiny lightning bolts hopping from one water particle to another.
'It must have been a dart… probably. This means they want me alive, I think.' He gave a hesitant sigh. This made his predicament a little less dangerous, at least he hoped so.
The agent saw the figure fall to the ground. He started to run forward when he noticed a stream of fog speed toward him like a snake from where his target fell. He dodged too quickly and lost his footing, falling to one knee. The next thing he knew, Aleksei was standing in front of him with his hand resting over the agent’s eyes. He raised his weapon to put him to sleep.
“I would not do that.” Aleksei warned him confidently, “Otherwise, I will evaporate all water from your eyes. They will shrivel like raisins, and all I have to do is flick my fingers.”
The rookie agent’s imagination caused his stomach to twist in disgust and fear.
Aleksei’s tone remained ominous, “Now, you are going to tell me what I want to know, or you will never see the light of day again. Where is my sister being held?”
The man shook, words spewing from his mouth. “T-twe-twelve blocks down to the left, into the industrial district. It’s a white, four-story building with barbed wire fencing around it, and a big iron gate. There are woods behind it.”
“So, does this building have a name?” Aleksei prodded.
“Rus Technologies Inc.,” he answered quickly.
Aleksei did not know if he was telling the truth or not, but it was the first plausible hint. “Do you have some sort of pass card to get in?”
“Yes, right pocket.” the man nodded.
Aleksei had fog gather behind the man. When the agent heard the buzzing sound, he cried out, “Please, don’t!”
The vapour slammed into the back of his head, knocking him out. Aleksei prodded his side with his foot to make certain he was unconscious then reached into the man’s right pocket and where he found a card. Turning it towards the street light, he saw that it did indeed read, ‘Rus Technologies Inc.’ It even gave the address.
“So far so good,” he muttered.
He heard something and looked over to see a bum, who just started to rustle under a pile of cardboard. He had not noticed him there before. Judging from the look on his face, it seemed he had seen at least some of what had transpired.
Aleksei smiled cordially and said, “You did not see anything, did you?”
The bum shook his head vigorously.
“That’s good.” Aleksei replied. Then he walked away into the shadows.