It was nice to be out of the service, even if it was only temporary. Even if you'd handed in you resignation you'd always be considered for a job. It was just how the CIA worked. Of course, the downside of resigning from the CIA was the constant check ups. I knew they were having me followed; I had spotted him on several occasions. Tall, white male, brown hair, brown eyes, average uptown Gotham-ite. So far, I had played along allowing him to follow me inconspicuously, but today I drew the line. It was time for the follower to be the followed.
Losing him had been easy enough. It seemed they always applied the newbie to follow the veteran. Why, don't ask me, but it just was. A quick series of turns and blending into the right crowd (a group of obsessed Bruce Wayne fans screaming and pushing to get a better view) and I was gone. Now I was glancing at a store window, watching him from the reflection as he passed me by, my plain red hair covered by psychedelic hot pink and black very temporary die and my blue eyes covered with mud brown contacts. The key to becoming completely unrecognizable to a tail is to become the exact opposite of yourself, in my case, a scene teenager. Tugging at my oversized black jacket, courtesy of my roommate, Gina, I began following him again.
Following him had become relatively uneventful. Frantically, the man had traced to my favorite hang outs, the small bakery I had taken a job at (where I stopped to buy a bagel and leave a large tip for Gina), and even to my little apartment. As he had come up empty handed (no duh) he began heading back, not dejectedly, as I would have assumed, but down right terrified.
When we entered the Narrows was when I started getting iffy. I had tailed several people and unless they lived in the backstreets, the CIA never placed me in the backstreets. But, as the dutiful spy I am at heart, I followed him. After about ten minutes of walking with him he stopped and grabbed a bus, thank God ((my feet were beginning to throb by this point, the converse that I hadn't worn since high school were beginning to take their toll)! Carefully placing myself a few people behind him I got on the bus and sat up front. It was on the opposite end of the bus, so he wouldn't get too suspicious if he wasn't a trained agent (which I was beginning to suspect he wasn't. He made too many mistakes, even for a newbie) and I would be able to see him getting off the bus.
I pulled a Harry Potter book out of my bag, another addition so he wouldn't see my face too obviously. Each time I would turn a page I resisted the overwhelming urge to read it and counted to a hundred. I think I had counted to a hundred a hundred times before the man go off of the bus. Again, I counted to a hundred before placing my book away and standing up, now acting anxious to get off, like a normal person would when on a bus in the Narrows.
He walked for a good ten minutes (God, would he ever stop walking?) before he entered into what looked like an abandoned hotel. "The Desmarais" the sign read, but I walked by it, planning on sneaking in after counting to a hundred for the thousandth time today. It wasn't until I heard the familiar beeping of a security alarm that I freaked out. Quickly diving behind a trash can, I waited until he had opened the door and slid my hand in the door. Now I counted to hundred, praying silently he had at least turned a corner, before opening the door and slipping in. Whoever this man was he was definitely not a spy. A spy wouldn't have just let the door swing closed. A spy would've shut it quick and hard.
There were voices, somewhere. All I needed to do was to find out where they were coming from. Tiptoeing, I turned a corner, praying no one came around a corner quickly. There was no denying now, this place was a hotel. The main lobby was huge, a beautiful brown marble flooring which, sadly, echoed my every footstep. Behind the dark oak counter was a beautiful red and yellow stain glass window. I felt myself drawn to the antiquity of it all. If I had spared the time to look, beneath the counter were old fashioned room keys, each with little room numbers attached them. As I walked by the cream colored couch, I ran my fingers along it, the familiar rough material that was standard issue for every lobby scratching my fingers. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I ran ahead.
As I followed the voiced down a hall, I again was reminded that I was in an old hotel. The doors lacked the familiar card slots, but had key holes. The flooring was a dark greenish brown paisley carpet, another common element in hotels. I began running, trusting the plush carpet to cover my footsteps. I turned, the voices echoing from up the emergency stairs, made of wood as I quickly found out. How old exactly was this hotel? I'd have to see if there was a date anywhere on the front when I got out . . . if I got out. Deciding it better to slid down the railing, I raced down quickly, reaching a tall door that I could clearly hear the voices behind.
"You . . . . ah, you lost her?" the voice was high, nasally; each word carefully chosen to incite fear. Dear God, I knew that voice. Who in Gotham didn't? It wasn't like he was afraid to publish it on TV.
"I-I'm s-s-s-s-sorry, b-b-bo-boss. Th-there wasn't – wasn't any-anything I-I cou-could – I could do!"
"Ah, let me . . . think. You, ah, you could have actually DONE YOU F_CKING JOB!!!" he roared. Why wasn't I running? The most powerful criminal in the world had sent a tail on me, and I was sitting here calmly waiting for him to walk out. Well, not calmly . . . actually, I was frozen with fear.
"I-I'm sor –"
"Why so serious, Buddy?" At least I got to know my tails name before he died. Thouggh I doubted it was his real name. There was no reply. "ANSWER ME!" I heard a scream that was quickly cut off. The picture was easy enough for me to form in my mind. The dark crimson splattering across the basement; blood gurgling out of his mouth, possibly even a red bubble forming at his mouth as he tried to breath one last time. It was really sickening. The onlye good thing that came from it is it gave me the sense to leg it to the door.
I had barely made it to the next landing when the door burst open and their was the Joker in full get up. "Look what we have here?"