Helix, Part One
NEW YORK CITY
The Haitian stood in the darkness of the alley, waiting for the all too recognizable face to pass by. He couldn't risk the possibility of her manipulative nature. He had told her to meet him at the diner down the street, but was now waiting in the shadows. Like always. Then she came.
"Mrs. Petrelli", he called out. The figure stopped and turned suddenly.
"Jesus, was that necessary?" she asked, infuriated.
"Yes", he replied blankly. Angela rolled her eyes and walked towards him, observing the depths of the godforsaken alley before slipping off her gloves and throwing them into her purse. The Haitian stood quietly, hands in his pockets of his tan trousers, watching her as she rounded him.
"So, what is this all about?" she asked.
"Me", he explained,
raising an eyebrow.
"That's a bit selfish, wouldn't you say?"
she asked, staring intensely at his eyes. The Haitian shrugged.
"I'm asking you to release me", he explained further. Angela seemed surprised by this comment, and looked even more intensely into his eyes. It was so hard to tell what Angela was thinking. What she was feeling. The years of the Company had worn down her once smooth skin and had dabbled the color in her eyes. Lips pursed, she flicked her head to the side and walked back towards the street.
"Listen, there never was any commitment I forced you to make to me. It was you the whole time", she told him. The Haitian remained unaltered.
"You know what you did. I owe you everything. And now I'm asking that you allow me to go..." he found himself stuttering, and Angela was once again surprised.
"Do what?" The Haitian paused.
"My brother. He's dead because of me. You asked that I do that. I need to take care of things in Haiti, Mrs. Petrelli. But I do in fact have commitments to you, and if you see they haven't been fulfilled"-
"Go home. Have fun", Angela exclaimed sarcastically. "There's nothing I need done. Me, of anyone would know that." The Haitian gave a faint smile.
"Thank you Mrs. Petrelli", he said.
"Thank you, old friend", she retorted, hugging him. "When you talk to Noah, tell him to go to Room 234b." The Haitian moved away.
"I don't think I'll be contacting him soon." To this Angela cocked her head and shrugged.
"Sure", she said, before making her way from the alley, leaving the Haitian with one thought. That bitch.
AN: Okay, basically the setup for the Haitians story throughout Volume Four. I have a clear direction for this story, and I think it has potential. Hope you enjoy!