Author: So, now (and maybe for the rest of the story; I don't know yet), I'm going to write in the perspective of the person who seems like the bad guy at this moment. But, nothing is for sure...

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I sat in the back of a car, driving through the city. I had just done the most dangerous thing ever: I just stole records from the supposedly 'fake' IMF, and then blew it up. But I hadn't meant to blow it up. I hadn't even known there had been a bomb in my bag, until I dropped it during my escape, and, when I later went to retrieve it, watched as it blew up. Fortunately, I didn't have the records in my bag. I was still holding them now, in a black suitcase. I know, sooooo classic.

The car screeched to a halt, almost flinging me forward. "Albert, what was that?" I shouted at my driver.

"Sorry Miss Scarla, the light turned red all of a sudden, and I couldn't run it." Albert answered. I sighed. "Ok then, just try to pay more attention next time." I said. "How far away are we?" I asked, curious.

"It's on the next left." Albert said, moving forward again since the light had changed to green.

"Ok." I said. I leaned back in my seat and sighed. I was meeting the man who had asked me to steal these records. He gave me all the information, whereto find IMF, how many guards there were, etc., etc. He was probably also the bastard who put a bomb in my bag.

"We're here." Albert said, stopping the car smoothly in front of an old, abandoned warehouse. I ran my hands through my blue hair. "Let's go." I said, stepping out of the car.

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" Ah, Miss Scarla!" Solomon Lane said, sounding equally surprised and impressed. He sat in the middle of the warehouse behind a table, with two other men with him.

"Mr. Lane." I said, walking over to the table. I took a seat on the opposite side of Solomon, and placed the suitcase on the table in between us.. Albert stood behind me.

"I see you have my files."

"And I don't see my money anywhere."

Solomon Lane smiled, and placed another black suitcase on the table. He slid it over to me.

I opened it. Inside was 15,000 American dollars. I looked up at Solomon. "This is real, right?" I asked him, suspicious. Solomon Lane doesn't usually follow through with his bargains.

He laughed. "Would I really cheat you out of your end of the bargain?" He asked me, smiling. I looked at him. "Is that a rhetorical question?" I asked him.

He stopped smiling. "How come you don't trust me anymore?" Solomon asked me, sounding hurt now.

I looked at him. "You were surprised that I walked in here, weren't you?" I asked him, changing subjects. "And unhurt, as well." I said.

I had caught him by surprise. "Why... Why would I be surprised?" Solomon stammered.

"You knew there was a bomb in my bag. You put in there, because that's what you do. You clean up all of your evidence, then throw it in a trash bag. And I was evidence that needed to be cleaned up." I said. I leaned back in my chair, and looked at my nail. "Its just a good thing that when the bomb detonated in my bag, I didn't happen to have it, because I had dropped it while running away from IMF." I said.

Solomon Lane looked at me, speechless. But he quickly recovered. "Perhaps I did, but that was before I realized how useful you could be to me." He said.

Ok, that's kind of creepy...

"What do you-." A gun shot interrupted my thoughts.

Albert had just shot one of Solomon's men who had been pointing a gun at me. That man was now dead.

Solomon and I both looked at each other, then at the two black suitcases in front of us.

We lunged for them at the same time Albert and Solomon's alive henchman started shooting at each other.

I grabbed the suitcase closest to me, then started running. I heard Solomon shout something, but I ignored him. At this point, I was leaving with either the money or the files. I was ok with either one. Then I remembered.

Albert.

I turned around to get Albert. "Albert!" I shouted to him. He turned to me and mouthed something. I watched as a bullet hit him in the stomach. He collapsed to the ground.

I didn't have anytime to think about what Albert had shouted, or about the fact that I was going to kill Solomon Lane the next time I saw him. I just turned and ran to the car.

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I started the car quickly and slammed my foot down on the accelerator. The car sped off at a high speed. I slowed to the speed limit as I entered traffic. I didn't know if Solomon was following me or not, but I wasn't going to take any chances.

I pulled over on to the side of the street and into a parking spot. There was a pay meter, but they could tow the car for all I cared. It was a rental, and was checked out in a fake name.

I sat in the driver's seat of the car, and stared at the road in front of me. I felt like sobbing. Albert was dead. He was my one friend in the world, and now he was dead, all because of me.

Why did this have to happen to me?

I reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed the suitcase. I placed it in my lap, and fumbled to open it.

Inside were the files from IMF.

I slammed the suitcase shut, and threw it back on the passenger seat. I hit my hand against the driver's wheel. The air bag didn't pop out fortunately, but I didn't care. I felt tears starting to go down my face.

No, you can't start crying now Scarla. That won't help you.

I took a deep breath in, then breathed out. I grabbed the suitcase, along with a:

Hat.

Gun.

Sunglasses.

Jacket.

Wallet I'd grabbed from someone while I had run by them.

I put the hat on to cover my hair, and the sunglasses on to cover my eyes. I tucked the gun into my pocket, and then took all of the identification things out of the wallet. Then, I got out of the car, and slammed the door shut. I started walking down the street towards a café on the corner.