Post by Avian Morrison on Oct 21, 2014 20:23:06 GMT -5
Careful what you shoot
because you might hit what you aim for
-Linkin Park, “Keys to the Kingdom”
because you might hit what you aim for
-Linkin Park, “Keys to the Kingdom”
This was not a first. Avian had spent quite a bit of time at clubs not so long ago. Since becoming a co-director of the Company, however, she had kept her life quite tame. No late nights, no heavy metal types, nothing to land her in the tabloids - or the news. Oh, she did not mind the attention afforded her as a Company director, and she took any moment she could to get the Company - the part the public could see, at least - great publicity. But there were some things she had to do under the table.
She knew that Helena Rahal, her co-director, did not trust her. Well. If the woman knew she was an ex-bank robber, then maybe she would be justified. But she did not, and so there was no reason for the woman’s distrust. At least, that was how Avian saw it. Avian, for herself, had plenty of respect for Helena. The woman constantly took what life gave her and made the best of it.
However, Avian knew that Helena’s distrust of her had led the woman to secure the Company’s secret special operations arm, the Elite, as her own personal security should Avian make a move against her. Did Helena think Avian did not have ears and eyes everywhere? Did she think Avian would not find out? Avian fully expected Helena to figure out what Avian was about to do herself; the woman would be a poor intelligence operative if she did not.
This was where Jade Alastair came in. The woman was an excellent assassin and came highly recommended. The young woman had also been a member of the Elite for a while, but had resigned. One member against the Elite’s few? Avian felt comfortable enough. She did not think she and Helena would ever come to blows, anyway. Avian’s past was hers to keep to herself. Gabriel Constant had seen to that.
There was no such thing as overpreparedness, however. This was why Avian was meeting Ms. Alastair at one of New York’s more exclusive clubs. Avian had to take precautions, however. She parked her Vespa a good distance away and walked confidently on her four-inch heels. She was dressed in a gold halter top and black pencil skirt, both of which hugged her plus-size frame just enough to show off her figure. She had tucked her hair under a purple wig that fell over her shoulders and had bangs that nearly covered her eyes, just to ensure that no one recognized her.
She only had to nod at the bouncer to be let into the club. Such places were poor, volume-wise, to hold a proper conversation, really. Avian had solved that problem by buying out the VIP room under an alias. Over the phone, an associate of Avian’s had instructed Ms. Alastair to meet Avian there.
Arriving, Avian had a seat in the plush sofa and accepted a drink, a nicely made Crown Royal and Coke. She crossed one leg over the other, dangling one of those shoes off the ground, and waited for her guest to join her. Hopefully she would appreciate the setting, although it might be more to Avian’s taste.
She knew that Helena Rahal, her co-director, did not trust her. Well. If the woman knew she was an ex-bank robber, then maybe she would be justified. But she did not, and so there was no reason for the woman’s distrust. At least, that was how Avian saw it. Avian, for herself, had plenty of respect for Helena. The woman constantly took what life gave her and made the best of it.
However, Avian knew that Helena’s distrust of her had led the woman to secure the Company’s secret special operations arm, the Elite, as her own personal security should Avian make a move against her. Did Helena think Avian did not have ears and eyes everywhere? Did she think Avian would not find out? Avian fully expected Helena to figure out what Avian was about to do herself; the woman would be a poor intelligence operative if she did not.
This was where Jade Alastair came in. The woman was an excellent assassin and came highly recommended. The young woman had also been a member of the Elite for a while, but had resigned. One member against the Elite’s few? Avian felt comfortable enough. She did not think she and Helena would ever come to blows, anyway. Avian’s past was hers to keep to herself. Gabriel Constant had seen to that.
There was no such thing as overpreparedness, however. This was why Avian was meeting Ms. Alastair at one of New York’s more exclusive clubs. Avian had to take precautions, however. She parked her Vespa a good distance away and walked confidently on her four-inch heels. She was dressed in a gold halter top and black pencil skirt, both of which hugged her plus-size frame just enough to show off her figure. She had tucked her hair under a purple wig that fell over her shoulders and had bangs that nearly covered her eyes, just to ensure that no one recognized her.
She only had to nod at the bouncer to be let into the club. Such places were poor, volume-wise, to hold a proper conversation, really. Avian had solved that problem by buying out the VIP room under an alias. Over the phone, an associate of Avian’s had instructed Ms. Alastair to meet Avian there.
Arriving, Avian had a seat in the plush sofa and accepted a drink, a nicely made Crown Royal and Coke. She crossed one leg over the other, dangling one of those shoes off the ground, and waited for her guest to join her. Hopefully she would appreciate the setting, although it might be more to Avian’s taste.
