Rey could see the giant smokestacks in the sky and the looming skyline from the factories from above, there was endless gray, blemished with murky smog. The streets were filled with a foul order that permanently seeped into her clothes by the end of the day.

It'd been sometime mid-October and the frost crept on England far too early for this time of year. One would think such frosty air refreshing, yet all she could taste was the pollution, thanks to the city's industrial factories. She longed a peaceful city, one not diseased with crime and poverty, but she knew such a fantasy would not possible. Not after the war.

No gloves.

She'd realized too late as she felt the tips of her fingers grow numb. She rubbed her hands and puffed heated pockets of breath into the small sphere formed by her palms. Thankfully, a pelted trench coat and three woolen scarves would be enough to keep her alive by the end of the day.

As she made way to the station house, she would catch sight of little ones scrunched from shoulders to knees in a pitiful attempt to keep themselves warm. And if not, they were begging and panhandling every capable person they could find. Little beggar boys who hadn't made enough for their families, no families at all. They were roaming the streets with soot and grime on their faces. Her heart felt heavy, as she wondered of the little girls and what terrible fate had become of them as well.

When she would come across little ones just waiting there at the corner, helpless and waiting for a savior, she would hand out anything she could offer, be it a coin or scrap of food. All three scarves were given to three deserving young 'ins as she feared hypothermia might claim their lives by next morning. Coldness did not treat her as unfairly to those that were strapped to the streets.

"There you go." Rey gave a boy, rail thin and bit too scrawny for a boy his height. "Go on. Share it with your family."

He nodded with beady eyes and raced into the back alleyways of which she assumed he was living. ]

"Remember to meet here tomorrow." Rey shouted into the back of his head, forming a cone around the shape of her mouth. "I'll 've plenty more bread to give!" She watched him disappear and veered onwards with droopy eyelids. The sluggish woman decided to make haste to the station, or the chief inspector would have her head.

/

Where are you?

Mister Solo watched from the seat of his automobile. He leaned against the crook of his fingers, and in turn, the base of his elbow pushed against the armrest. With a steely gaze, he glared at the station's entrance through the peaked shadow of his cap and dared not blink as he imagined her coming through.

He readjusted his posture and went for the miniature metallic casket that held his cigarettes. He picked one out, lit the end, and blew with a sultry heave into the hull of his chest.

He was about halfway with a burnt-out roll before he began noting the details of the establishment. It was a solid chalk-white brick building lodged into the endless line of other buildings. Not a breath of space in-between any of them. No windows either. A solitary door and the only person that had come to out was her. He imagined her looking side to side as she adjusted her black-brimmed hat and went off into the dirty streets that ran along the buildings.

What a liar you are.

Miss Rey Kenobi.

An interrupting knock on the passenger door almost startled Ben. He saw a lanky looking boy looking at him with naïve eyes and a watering mouth. He gave him a signaling nod that it was alright to speak.

"Done what ya asked sir." His lisp was apparent and words slightly rushed. "She's been meetin' with me under the bridge past couple a'days. S'pose she's got a big yapper when you 'syoung as me."

"Soft spot for the little ones. Eh?" His soft snort barely audible. The end of his fag was burning orange cinders as he inhaled. He puffed out again before asking. "Let's have it then."

"Well she goes on givin me bread and talks 'bout her dead grampy. Doesn't let me say a damn word—no nothin'." He folded his arms on the open sill of the passenger window.

"And that's all she talks about?"

"Yep." He nodded, pursing his lips. "You know he's some Kenobi?"

"Already knew that." His eyes danced on the dashboard of his 'mobile. He'd already made that connection not too long since their encounter and wondered more. "I don't pay you to tell me what I already know."

"Mister Solo I got a big feeling about somethin'." The kid spoke to the side of Ben's face, as he'd been staring through the front windshield. His sight found a focal point with a far window 'cross the town square. "Been following her down to the train stations. Looks like she's been goin' places. Far places. Ya know?"

It's been about a week since their first encounter and he'd been dead set on finding out about this woman. He wanted to know if she really was the "mastermind," as Mister Alvey would say. Could've very well been a lie, but he'd know better to trust a man's words when dire circumstances held the reigns.

He wanted to know if she was the one that could completely ruin him if given the chance.

If.

But he wasn't going to give her a chance.

"She comes back with suitcases and I can damn well tell ya' they look heavy."

He nodded in contemplation. He held his hand up to his mouth and used the back of his other as support for the suspended elbow. His lips sucked in again and puffed out the smoke.

The boy leaned in through the empty space of where a window would be and turned an ear to him. In a tiny whisper he began, "I'm bein' honest sir. I think the Coppers are plannin' somethin'. Somethin big."

"Are they?" He asked hypothetically.

"Think they's packin' the big guns, ya know? Heavy one's like the gats… can't tell ya what's gonna happen. But it's gonna happen."

Ben flung the butt of his cig out his driver side window and cleared his throat, straightening his sunken form. "You've been a good boy for speaking up. This, Charlie," He pressed a shilling between his index and middle finger and held it to his out splayed palms. "This is for doing the right thing. Go on. Keep doin' your job and I'll double it up tomorrow. Aye?"

"Aye sir." He took it with an enthusiastic nod and went off into the crowd of passersby, not to be seen again until the scheduled time.

He resumed surveying the station house with an unsatisfied stare. It'd been a few days and he had yet to see someone that looked like her. He had to see her come through that door. Or walk into it. Whichever came first didn't really matter. His eyes narrowed and he bit into the skin of mouth.

Come on.

Where are you.


Let me know what you think! Or what I could add! Appropriate for the era of course. Thanks guys.