Downtown Street Corner

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Downtown Street Corner

Post by The GM on Tue Nov 18, 2014 2:35 pm

Igna's hands wrapped around the beige mug.  Her cold digits embraced the warmth coming from her beverage as vapor danced into the air.  She closed her eyes and brought the mug to her lips.

Igna Petrov had been running around Singapore for over a month now.  She was weary of the traffic, the city streets, and most of all the people.  So many people.  She had a new appreciation for her holding cell, and how the agents never bothered her until needed.  That kind of lifestyle was easy enough for her.  What she was doing now was totally out of her element.

After taking a sip of coffee, Igna placed the mug back onto the little stained saucer and pushed it to the side.  The table she was sitting at was a small, run down booth in the corner of a small, run down coffee shop.  It was very uncomfortable and wobbly, but also very isolated from the rest of the shop.  The chipped wooden tables had scribbles all over them and a few crumbs still dotted the other side of the booth.  She brushed off all the debris on the table and then pulled out a worn vanilla folder from her book bag.

There weren't too many people at this time of day, so Igna didn't have to worry about someone walking over and snooping around.  She carefully laid out documents and photographs on the table.  She had done this many times, and gradually the little stacks of evidence she had been compiling were growing.  After laying it all out, she began to flip through a few pages of notes.

The coffee shop was situated on the corner of a much larger downtown area, one of the few places that still had regular business from commuters.  It was carved into the first floor of a larger building, which held some other manner of businesses.  There were only a few, still-waking customers dotted around the place.  The only employee present was cleaning up a glass behind the counter.  The whole place was really quiet save for the shuffling of a few forks and a small radio which broadcasted pop songs at a low volume.

A car passed by and made a few thuds as it drove over the poorly maintained road.  Igna was flipping through a few pictures and shuffling documents.  Her mind began to wonder as she gazed into the sea of papers before her.

About two months ago, Igna Petrov witnessed one of her superior officers participating in a back-door operation with some other organization.  Igna didn't pay much attention to CIS affairs beyond her own duties, but had recalled a few rumors about the CIS being infiltrated with agents of the international black market.  Apparently it was starting to become a huge problem and the CIS was purging itself of anyone it suspected was involved.  When Igna caught her superior officer, she simply said nothing and went back to her cell.  She figured that it was the auditor's job to catch these miscreants, not a dog of the CIS.  Much to her dismay, the officer realized that he had been caught by her and quickly made moves within the agency to tie up loose ends.  He had her framed for the very crime he was committing.  Since the CIS was increasing their efforts to oust these moles, they jumped at the opportunity to discharge one of their more reputable dogs to make an example to the rest of the super humans working under them.

Fortunately, the other agents that worked closest with Igna knew she was innocent.  Their efforts to downplay the punishment for her were not totally in vain - as the agency decided to simply terminate her service and access instead of outright kill her.  Stripped of her duties and forced under a watchful eye of the CIS for the duration of ten years, Igna was technically free.  Yet, instead of joy - she felt anger.  She had never felt a particular loyalty to the CIS or her caretakers, but rather she was angry because that officer framed her.  She had every intent to kill that man, but understood that simply attacking outright would probably just get her killed instead.  In a vow of spite, she wanted to ensure that his reputation was pummeled into ground, as well as all the pencil pushers back at central that were so gleefully ready to terminate her so they could claim they were worth their paychecks.  It was not enough that he died, he had to die without a shred of dignity to his name - and those internal affairs agents had to be shown that a dog could do their job better than they could.

... And so that is why she is here.  After being terminated, she began investigating the black market debacle on her own accord. She hopes to find the connection these black market dealers have to her ex-officer.   She had never played detective before, and so she had spent the former part of her vacation chasing red herrings.  After much painful searching, she finally found a solid clue that conveniently led her away from The US.  The CIS is much stronger there than in Singapore.  Slipping by surveillance, Igna boarded a plane for Singapore and has been here ever since.  Keeping a watchful eye - she lays low within the crowded city until she has accumulated enough proof to approach the CIS with confidence.  She knows how the CIS tracks and neutralizes super humans who have run away from their required surveillance, as she used to be one of tools used to kill them.

...

Igna pulled back her black wool overcoat's sleeve and checked her watch.  It was about time to commit to her daily patrol.  She wolfed down her coffee biscuits then finished her coffee.  Filled with vigor, she swept her files back into the book bag and walked over to the counter.  The employee was used to seeing this foreign girl, as she had been showing up on his shift for the past few weeks.  Changing hands of money, the employee smiled and thanked her, reminding her to be safe out there.  As Igna stuffed change into her wool pocket, she asked casually, "How's Miss Joaquim?"  The employee stared blankly for a second before remembering what she meant. 

"Oh", the employee lazily wagged his finger at the bright pink flower on the counter and said "Good and healthy.  It's really bloomed beautifully which is odd considering the season.  I didn't know they grew so fast." 

Igna looked up at the flower and smiled.  "If anything happens to it while I'm away I'm going to hold you responsible" she said half joking.  The employee laughed half-heartily and waved as she left the coffee shop.  As Igna stepped outside, she embraced the lifeless cold weather.  The air was crisp and still.  The winds hadn't picked up yet, so everything seemed muted.  She rubbed her hand around her neck, feeling her soft skin perk up from the stingy weather.  It was a tick she had developed after escaping CIS control, as her neck felt odd without the collar on.  After walking a few steps on the sidewalk, she hailed a cab going to the shopping district.

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