BIRDS OF PREY
Years ago, they knew each other well – now, she is an elusive thief and he is the agent assigned to capture her. It's a deadly game of hide and seek that spells disaster for them both. In a world of lies, deceit and ulterior motives, who can you trust? "I will make you sing like a bird, Nightingale." "You'll have to catch me first, Li."
-x-
"You're sure this is her?"
A man – tall, a wiry but solid build, brown hair and eyes – stood facing another, who had just handed him a blurry, blown-up photograph of a barely discernible face: all that could be made out was a pair of dark sunglasses and a head of blonde hair.
"Yes," replied the second man, even taller than the first, with jet hair that offset his pale skin. His eyes were dark and piercing behind thin, wire-rimmed glasses. "Tech department just got around to detailed analyzing of the security footage from the bank she hit last year in Chicago. No one noticed the frame until now – it's a two-millisecond shot from just after tech managed to undo her programming on the cameras."
The first man remained silent, eyes grazing the glossy photograph in his hands. The face inside it looked up at him, her gaze somehow seeming to penetrate through the dark sunglasses like a taunt.
"Li," started the second man with an air of impatience, "I know you're new to this case, and I don't mean to break your confidence… but you need to know."
Li looked up from the photograph with an air of reluctance.
"It's been three years since this case was opened and we're practically nowhere closer to catching her. They chose you to replace Bertram because you're young, you're promising, and, frankly, because you're a longshot. People are losing faith in the system. Every one of her heists pushes FBI reputation lower down. You are the radical solution that they have proposed and I urge you, Li, to take it seriously. There's a lot more riding on this than your own promotion, and you'd do well do keep that in mind."
An eerie stillness swirled for the span of a few seconds as each man stared carefully into the face of the other. Breaking a silence that seemed much longer than it was, Li spoke.
"Thank you for your input, Hiiragizawa, but I find it to be relatively unnecessary. To start, I know exactly what I'm going into, so forgive me if I find your remarks to be a tad impolite. And just so you are aware, I am your equal, not your inferior, which you'd do well to keep in mind."
The second man, Hiiragizawa, widened his eyes momentarily before he broke into an unexpected smile and gave a short burst of laughter.
"Indeed, Li. I retract my earlier insolence, and I'm sorry that we had to start off that way." He extended a hand to a now equally surprised Li, the same smile still on his face. "Welcome to the team."
-x-
'NIGHTINGALE STRIKES ART DEALER,' read the headline of a newspaper held by a young woman on a bench. She was sitting in the park, dark sunglasses perched on a faintly freckled nose and blonde hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail. Her green eyes, though rendered unseen by the lenses of her wayfarers, flicked across smaller articles inside the newspaper – house fires, political affairs, sports victories. A commentary on a set of valuable jewels appearing in a museum exhibit sat tucked against the centre fold of the newspaper, a black-and-white image of a fist-sized, pear-cut diamond to its right. Her roaming eyes paused on this image, stopped for a fraction of a breath to consider, and then moved onwards to the next article.
After some time she folded newspaper shut and she stood, rolling up the paper and tucking it under her arm as she strode toward the busy street. The city hummed around her, cars going past like pieces of one great river, tires hitting the asphalt with the rushing sound of water. She crossed several intersections before she reached a building of red brick and black window frames, with rusted emergency staircases crisscrossing the side walls. She lived here; the fourth window from the left, six floors up, belonged to her, the small apartment with its white blinds drawn loosely shut.
When she reached the room she set the newspaper on an empty table and carefully tore the front page article out, the tail of the N on NIGHTINGALE coming off. Holding this, she strode into her bedroom and stood at the doorway, quietly observing.
The wall was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, still-shots from news broadcasts. Pages overlapped and edges were tattered, older things worn and yellowed by time.
MUSEUM'S PRIZE GONE MISSING
MYSTERIOUS THIEF STEALS $250K
DETECTIVES REACH DEAD END
The young woman stood still, quietly admiring the wall, eyes roaming lazily. Finally, she strode forward and took two tacks from a small cluster stuck into the upper left corner of the wall, using them to pin the new article in place. The addition seemed almost unremarkable compared to the hundred-odd pages tacked to the wall, headlines cutting each other off like angry politicians vying for the last word. The wall was plastered with years of history, with the faded chronicles of her own timeline of crime.
A mobile phone buzzed from the other room and she was forced out of her reverie. She strode from the room quickly, allowing herself only a small smile and a few whispered words.
"Ready or not, here I come."
-x-
A/N: new story! please do review, as it helps the author tons: motivation, suggestions, etc...