Deformare

Prolog: Headphones

II like this resonance

It elevates me

I don't recognize myself

This is very interesting/I

She had been in this situation before. Perched somewhere, gun in reach, a wire plugged into her neck, awaiting the signal..well a lot of times she didn't bother with the signal. Signals were for gutless rookies or people too anal retentive to go without a plan. She was more the kind of woman who reacted on impulse. She liked to think that she had a sixth sense about it all, but that would be taking it a little too far, it almost seemed rather vain.

"Hey Eve, what's with all the noise?" a sharp and familiar voice cracked through her brain.

Race..that man was something else.

"Seems our John is having a little party," she answered, her voice playful but her lips never parted for the words.

"How's it look?"

"The deal looks like it's going down, but no one's really made much of a move. Give it a little while longer and I'm sure I'll have just cause by then."

Bannon leaned backward in his chair, a smile creeping over his handsome older face. He'd have to admit, he taught the girl well, or at least, he taught her to work his way.

"We have guys waiting as back up. Just let me know of things get out of hand," he urged, but he already knew how Eve would answer. She'd scoff and tell him to stop pretending he was her dad. Or something like that. He had to hold back his own amusement when he heard a throaty grunt break over the COM.

"Right.. So..tell me, what has the Doc got us chasing after this time?" she asked through her neural link.

Race absently tapped on the keypad in front of him.

"Simple smash and grab."

"No shit Sherlock, but any clue as to what's on the disk I'm swiping?"

Her comrade bit his bottom lip. Any kind of curse from her was like acid to his brain. Hell, it came with the trade, they all had mouths that should stay away from their mothers, but with Eve it was different, different to him anyway.

"Some sort of virus the syndicate's cooked up. It seems they have plans to use it against rival cybernetics companies to slow production and sales. Though I have to say, no one's got anything on what the Doc delivers."

"Charming," the young woman replied with a hit of childish humor.

Eve ran a hand through her short, chopped red hair before she allowed her arm to drop back down to her side. Waiting was so damn boring. Patience was supposed to be some sort of virtue, though what the hell it was supposed to bring you was beyond her. But then again she never thought herself to be a very virtuous person. If she had been, then she wouldn't be in the line of work she was in. Line of work, she found that concept rather funny, not because it was humorous, but more so because she couldn't remember what other jobs she had held in life. Actually, she couldn't remember anything before her training with Race for that matter. It bothered her a little, but not enough to go asking. If she were supposed to know, then she would remember it, right?

"Don't worry about it my friend, everything you need to ensure your company's future is right here on this little disk."

Eve darted her green eyes to the right as the conversation she was eavesdropping on suddenly grabbed her attention.

Bingo.

She reached around behind her and tore the cord plugged into her neck free and stood up. Her red hair caught up in the wind from the considerable height she was at. Standing on the roof a large building before doing something rather dangerous always gave her a sort of rush that she couldn't explain, like it was a part of her life long ago, the life she couldn't remember. Eve adjusted the straps on her soft bullet vest and took a hold of the gun in her thigh holster, which was wrapped tightly around the tight black jumpsuit she wore. She stepped over toward the skylight in front of her, her excited green eyes probing the forms below her.

"Party time," she spoke, this time mouthing the words instead of only saying them with her brain.

* Ohohoh, what the hell is going on here? Well, I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out.

Deformare: Deformed, distort. (Italian)