New York City, New York
"Some people ask...what's it like to kill a man. Well I don't have to worry about that question, I'm a doctor...well a scientist really.I have a normal office, its plush, its simplistic, modern yet tasteful. Yet the majority of my work is in the lab...and in the examination rooms...yet you see, I maintain a very important part of structure to the United States. Consider me one of the few great balancers of this great nation. I balance to amazing, outlandish, and revolutionary with stealth and secret."
The woman speaking smiled, she was a young woman maybe pressing towards her late twenties though her appearence didn't show this. Her skin was a sunkissed gold framing two emerald eyes. Her hair was a deep hershey chocolate pulled back into a messy bun, a few strands of hair hanging down over her face. She was speaking to a person via web camera. The person on the other end looked back at her, he was just a young man, a reporter eager for his next big scoop to give to his editors.
"And what specifically are these outlandish and revolutionary projects that you are working on? Does the company you work for fund these projects or are they on the goverment's pay roll?"
The doctor pursed her lips as they tugged back slightly showing a frown, her brows dipped. "Im sorry I'm not at liberty to discuss that but what I can tell you is that what our company is currently working on is going be so revolutionary it could bring an end to war before it even starts." Her voice grew excited. "We must end war, before war ends us!"
The journalist scribbled furiously. "That's quite brilliant Doctor, that quote...whats that from?"
"H.G Wells," she smiled. "I am a learned woman in more than just science, biology, neurology, and eco-chemistry." She said rattling off the subjects as though they were second nature. The journalist paused and looked at the woman, as if he had either misheard her or hadn't heard everything. He opened his mouth to say something but the woman glanced over her shoulder, her face contorting for a moment to display fear and uncertainty but she steeled herself and faked a smile.
"I'm sorry James, I have to go, I've already told you more than I should but I just wanted to make sure that if....if anything were to happen, you would be the first to know who I really was. And perhaps you could follow the trail of bread crumbs I have left." she cut the video feed before James could say anything more. His heart was pounding in his throat, his eyes were wide. If something happened, did the doctor know something... was she in danger, was someone after her? He swallowed and looked to his notes. Bread crumbs? He thought reading back through his notes.
N24 53.869 E32 38.120 (Egypt)
Blue eyes....was that all people thought of him? The thought had came to him when he had read the pyschologist's notes. It was the first thing he had noted. 'Piercing blue eyes' He curled up in the shade of an abandoned building catching his breath and trying to cool off. He could hear the rustle of dead or dying plants from what had probably been a garden of some long dead or long gone family. Standing he sighed, dusting the sand from his tan cargo pants lined with multiple pockets. A pistol strapped around his leg, for quick access and to take out stray dogs or the occasional goat herder.
His shirt was a standard off white cotton shirt, with a black bullet proof vest, though he wore a traditional gallebaya (a traditional mens' full body dress, typical to the area)over top both of those. He also carried a small assault rifle with a collapsible stock, ammunition, and clips which was stored in a small pack he carried on his back. He looked like a traditional man trying to walk his way across the desert. His goal... dropped in the middle of the Egyptian desert, he had to treck across the sands towards the nile to the city of Markaz Edfo, in the Aswan province.
There he was to find a man by the name of Albasi An Wair, Albasi had been a black market weapons dealer to some home grown terror cell that had been wreaking havoc on American Allies; The British and Germans. Why they targeted merely those two countries only Abasi would know. Moving across the sand, he followed an old truck path. Walking in the heat, he was already drenched with sweat uncomfortable but his eyes were steely, focused and clear like crystal.
It was about an hour before he reached an actual paved road, it was a sad excuse for what one would call a highway but none the less he walked, waving at any vehicles that passed. After the tenth car passed, he assumed he'd be walking the entire distance but finally a turquois rusted out car slowed and pulled behind him shuttering and purring in a sickly fasion. The man driving looked young, educated, probably from one of the larger cities... Cairo perhaps.
"Where are you going?" He asked in Arabic, seeming quite friendly.
"Markaz Edfo." Mihkail replied back, his accent sounding more middle eastern than Egyptian but that wasn't quite his fault. He'd been deployed to Afghanistan and had learned their intonation of speaking. The man nodded and gestured to the car, letting him get in.
"I'll take you, considering I'm heading there too." Pressing on the gas, the car whined and pulled back onto the pavement. "So you must be heading to visit the Temple of Horus also, am I correct?" Mikhail nodded, not really trusting the man to begin with. The man rambled on about the temple, its spinx, and all the great treasures to egyptian history it held. The man also mentioned he was a professor on leave from some university to see this temple. Mikhail listened halfheartedly, staring out the window as nothingness and desert passed by. It was about an hour and a half and there was they were.
The streets were choked with carriage drivers urging horses to and from the warf moving passengers from the ferries towards the temple at the far end of the cities outskirts. Mikhail had the man stop and got out of the vehicle passing the man a few bills for his trouble, turning and heading for the cities market. He knew that the man was holed up in a local sheikh's house.
He pushed through people on the side streets as more and more people began to cluster and group. Shouts of vendors from the sides of the streets echoed between the sounds of men and women, horses, hoking cars. The stench was enough to make Mikhail's stomach clench but he pressed on. Pausing every now and then to listen to the talk at each stand.
"Not true! I heard the rat has been all over the world and Shufrik is hiding him!" Mikhail stopped and turned his head, as if absentmindedly looking at the cloths the man was selling. Two women were leaning close to the man nodding and looking through their veils, their burkas covering their body from any wandering eyes.
"Nazir, you know.... why does Shufrik hide the man, he is a murderer and a thief!" One of the women accused, the other nodded. The vendor, presumably Nazir, held his hands up as if to show his innocence.
"I only tell you what I know, stay away from Albasi and Shufrik! They are just going to cause trouble, mark my words!" The vendor nodded as he looked into the crowd, he thought he had seen someone staring at him from the center of the street...blue eyes...He shivered, the gaze he'd seen the ice within. God help the man, who ever he was, with eyes so cold.
Mikhail moved a bit further towards the opposite end of the market where the lighting was blocked by tarps attached to the buildings roofs and spanned the width of the street. It was nice for shade, and perfect to pull a man to the side for a bit of questioning. A young man, who looked around 19, was leaning on a buisness wall. He had a cigarette between his teeth, white smoke rolling smoothly from his chapped lips...that was his target. He moved like a ghost, in measured steps, his eyes focused...zeroed.
But it all happened so very fast.....