A needle in a haystack.

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A needle in a haystack. Empty A needle in a haystack.

Post  Daleka on Sat Mar 08, 2008 9:37 pm

A needle in a haystack.
Six days after the showdown in the cemetery/shelter.

Detective Elizabeth Daleka was walking in the icy streets of Saint City, more specifically in the downtown neighborhood. She set up a meeting in a neutral territory with the person that her guy mentioned when she beat him up, a few days ago. The person she was meeting was a police officer and when Ray mentioned that, she didn’t know if she should be surprised or disappointed.

That person could help her go back to the source of the murder she was investigating – a young girl found dead in a gutter, which, sadly, was not uncommon in Saint City. Her client was well-paying, providing her with the latest technology, such as a bug device or disintegrating bullets and, in return, she’d accomplish specific tasks for him.

With that, she arrived in front of the coffee shop and stood there for a few seconds, while she was rubbing her hands together in an effort to get the blood moving to warm them up, and also to get a good look at the customers – there was no potential threat, so she thought – so she continued on her way to find her contact. She glanced at her watch - it only 9:03 in the morning, still early yet it was already well below minus 10 degrees Celsius, and it was going to be even more cold, according to the weather forecast she heard on the radio earlier.

She was a little bit late for her appointment, but she didn’t bother with small details like that. At least like that, she’d be sure that nobody was setting her up because she had enough time to check around the building for unwanted visitors or spies. She consulted her GPS-watch again – which proved itself to be a very useful tool, thanks to her anonymous contractor- and decided to push the door to enter the place.

She glanced around; looking for her contact, but it was her contact who found her. A smiling brunette with piercing green eyes came to her.

“Hello. I am Tatiana, but you can call me Tanya. And you’re Elizabeth, right?”
“In person.”
“Then come with me. I already got coffee for us.”

Elizabeth smiled back at her, the woman’s Russian accent showing slightly in those few words, although she knew perfect English. She followed Tatiana - or Tanya – as she sat down in a box. The Detective knew that in Russian, it was common to use the pet name form of one’s first name, as a form of friendship. By allowing Daleka to call her Tanya, the Russian woman granted her her friendship, which was not to be neglected. But still, the young woman learned not to trust somebody too quick. Such thing, you learn from personal experiences.

As she took place in front of her contact, Daleka noticed the two smoking black coffees already sitting on the table. Tanya waited for her to sit down to talk.

“My contact told me you were a police officer, right? Can I see some I.D.?” The detective asked without furthermore introduction.
The other woman smiled and nodded, as if to say ‘of course’, and reached inside her jean jacket. She then showed Daleka her I.D., which seemed to be valid, the black-haired woman smiled, and reached for her own private eye identification badge, in her rear pants pocket.

“I like your last name. It sounds slightly from Russia.”
“My father was from Russia… And my mother was… Hum… Enough small talk, okay? I’m running out of time and if someone sees us together, it might compromise the mission. I need serious information. Now please…”
“Of course; of course…” said the European woman.

She reached in her other pocket and took out a white letter-format envelope. She set it on the table and keeps her hand on it.

“Here’s all you’ll need to find your man, but if I can do something else, let me know…”

She lifted her hand: a business card was under it, on top of the envelope.

“Thank you. I must go now.” Elizabeth said as she grabbed the stuff and got up. “Thanks for the coffee…” She let out as she quickly walked to the rear exit.

Arrow Fisher's shack

Characters: Daleka | Dante

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