Monte Carlo. 2012.
I stroked the rich fabric that covered my skin in a soothing fashion. I enjoyed the feel of it as it fell through my fingers like water in a stream. The dress was a deep navy that almost looked black under the dim lights. It was scattered with crystals that made it look as though I was draped in the night sky. I had spent the past hour sipping on the same vodka martini and gazing up at the expansive ceiling of the Casino de Monte Carlo. Great crystal chandeliers gave off light enough for the gamblers to see their cards at the blackjack tables and their chips at the roulette wheel. They also allowed me to keep my trained eyes on the man I was trailing.
Frederick Dubois was dressed similarly to every other man in the room. A well-tailored black suit and a matching bow tie with a glass of port in his hand – he was undeniably handsome. His dark hair was neatly combed backwards, and his facial hair was neatly oiled – he exuded wealth and I had learned long ago that wealthy people tended to not question how other wealthy people obtain their fortunes. I knew better than that and had learnt to question absolutely everything. Two blondes had been trailing after him like obedient dogs all evening, waiting silently whilst he played his games and fetching him fresh drinks whenever he clicked his fingers. I arched an eyebrow as one of the girls approached the bar for the third time, her dress had looked expensive from a distance but upon closer inspection, it was clear it had been cheaply made. There were unfinished hems and sequins that hung loosely from threads, the red lipstick that had been applied to make her lips look bigger was beginning to smudge and wear off and the low back of her dress exposed her spine, jutting out through her skin. Her complexion was pale with a sickish green tinge that no amount of bronzer could conceal. It was obvious that Dubois was trying to make her look healthier than she actually was, most likely to another potential buyer. The girl stared at her splayed hands on the oak bar top whilst she waited for the drink and nodded silently when it was handed to her, rushing back to her owner who was making his way to the private poker room. I quickly got up from my seat and followed, slipping around the other gamers and waiting as he handed his ID to the two security guards on the door. They laughed at something he said but I couldn't make it out over the sound of the slot machines in the next room and people laughing as they cashed in their winnings.
I dipped my hand into the small clutch bag I was carrying and removed the false ID before offering it to the Security Guard. Eliana Maddux was the first different identity I'd used in twelve years. It had felt comforting being me for so long, but I had found it equally exciting when I'd been offered the chance to yet again become someone else. I was waved through the velvet rope and picked up the skirt of my dress as I stepped down the carpeted stairs into the quiet room with a large poker table in the middle. I smiled slightly to myself as I felt his attention turn to me and I made my way to the bar where I flicked my hair over my shoulder. Before I'd had a chance to order he was at my side and ordering a drink on my behalf. I grimaced internally at the fruity cocktail I was handed but put a smile on my face and sipped it as he watched my face closely.
"I haven't seen you around here before." His previous glasses of port were beginning to slur his words and a single bead of sweat sat in his hairline.
"I'm not from here," I replied simply. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but I cut him off before he could try and uncover any information about me.
"Where are you from?" I asked quickly, taking an innocent sip on the sugary cocktail in front of me. He smirked slightly before sighing.
"Avignon." I nodded and arched my eyebrows as he let his eyes wash over the dress I was wearing. The gesture may have made anyone else feel uncomfortable, even more so if they knew the kind of man he was, but I was numb to it.
"What about you?" It was my turn to smirk as I tilted my head to one side, exposing a delicate diamond earring that brushed my jawline. I saw his eyes flit to the jewel and then to my mouth before he met my eyes again.
"I live just ten minutes away." I purred, he smiled and arched an eyebrow.
"I would love to see your apartment."
"Would you?" I slipped off the bar stool and glanced over my shoulder as he remained leaned against the surface, watching me. I sighed and gave him my best bedroom eyes.
"Come on then." He rubbed his hand over his finely groomed beard before I turned my head and heard him follow. He willingly abandoned the girls accompanying him and I felt them watch us as we left the casino, but I did my best to pay them no attention. My orders had been clear, I was here for them, but was not to interact with them in anyway.
This is always my favourite part. The shift of power. Just when they think it's all in their control, I snatch it away so quickly. It's a thrill that others might find on a rollercoaster or from driving a car too fast – I find it pressing guns into the flesh of my targets and watching them shake like a deer in headlights.
"You must be stupid or arrogant. Do you know who I am?" He snarled at me, exuding confidence despite the gun in my hand.
"It's definitely arrogant. And to answer your question, Frederick Dubois. Born in Avignon, France like you told me no less than twenty minutes ago. You had a pretty normal childhood despite the beatings your mother subjected you to. But you got even with her for that, didn't you? Masqueraded as the perfect son in the last of her years, visiting her every day for a daily cup of tea, laced with undetectable amounts of Arsenic. Supposedly it's a very feminine method of murder, poisoning your victims. But your past is of little interest to me. Your latest business venture is why I'm here."
"You'll have to be more specific dear, I have so many you see…" He smirked at me, the sweat on his hairline was dripping down his face and onto the collar of his shirt.
"The girls." I cut in. "Like the two you have trailing around after you inside. Your hate for your mother over spilled to all women, something tells me your mother made money from you so now you do it with them. I have no doubts you planned to do the same with me, but you really should be more careful with your potential victims. Where are they from? The U.S? The U.K? Avignon? How old are they? Your blonde one doesn't look much older than sixteen, but then she's so underfed she could be any age."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about and I have very good lawyers who will see that whatever you're accusing me of never makes it to court." I laughed, letting the cold night air fill my lungs and cool my flushed cheeks.
"What part of me holding a gun to your head has led you to believe that I want to see you in prison? I know how many connections you have, and I believe you wouldn't ever be found guilty in a court room. Luckily for me, my employer doesn't normally condone this course of action, but we can't convict you and we can't let you go."
"So…we're at an impasse then?" he questioned, stress finally beginning to show on his face. I smirked.
"No. I always do my job. This is only going to end one way, it just depends on how much you fight it. But you won't win – you don't get to walk away from this. We all make choices on how we let our past define us, you made the wrong choice."
I adjusted my grip on the handle, briefly tuning my attention to the street of passing people just over the brick wall we were hidden behind. The rushing water of the river to the side of us was splattering droplets of water against my bare arms.
"I have powerful friends, they will notice I'm gone and they'll come looking." I shrugged my shoulders.
"I'm sure they will and if they ever find me I'll be sure to share this same hospitality with them. Though I hate to admit it, we do share one trait in common."
"Oh?"
"No remorse." He ran his hand through his hair and bit down on his lower lip, his eyes darting to the brick wall and back to me as if he was searching for words that would get me to change my pre-decided course of action. I flicked my eyebrows up as if I was waiting for him to offer a plea for his life that I might genuinely consider.
"Do you think killing me will save those girls? There's always another buyer."
"I'm giving them a chance, what they do with it is up to them…" I was cut off by a phone ringing in his jacket. He glanced down at the pocket and back up at me. I nodded allowing him to answer it. After a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed, and he held out his hand.
"It's for you." I held it to my ear and remained silent.
"Agent Marakova." I heard Nick Fury's voice.
"Yes."
"We need you in New York, wrap it up and get on the next flight out. There's a jet waiting for you at the airport. Coulson's contacted Romanoff and she's bringing in the big guy. It's time." He ended the call without another word and I sighed whilst feeling adrenalin rise in my system.
"Sorry," I apologised mockingly "My schedule has gotten a little tighter than I expected. As much as I've enjoyed talking to you, we need to wrap this up."
His chest began to heave heavily as panic finally set in. I dropped his phone onto the phone and pierced the screen with my Louis Vuitton. I once again shook my curls over my shoulders and pulled the trigger. The silencer on the barrel of the gun made a small sound that wouldn't be heard by any of the passers-by and his body slumped to the ground, the small bead of blood falling from the wound in his forehead. I had chosen this location carefully, there was no street CCTV and the river was tidal, it would wash his body out to sea where it would be devoured by the wildlife. There was CCTV in the casino, but I'd always made sure to keep my head down and out of direct view of the cameras though I doubt anyone would be looking for him.
I picked the sim card out of his phone and bent it in two, breaking the small metal plate before I tossed it into the river alongside him.
I slipped back onto the streets of Monte Carlo entirely undetected and quickly called for a cab. As the driver headed back to my hotel where I would once again don a new identity, I found my mind wandering to the call from Fury. He never sounded stressed but the tightness to his voice led me to believe that something must have happened in New York whilst I'd been gone. Especially if he was going ahead with the initiative despite the blatant 'no go' from the board of directors.
I closed the hotel door behind me and slipped out of my dress, dropping it into a bin bag with all the other clothes I had worn during my stay. I put it into the suitcase I'd flown into the country with and slipped my own possessions into my small black bag. I pulled out the new passport and shrugged my black coat over my shoulders, my hair was pulled up into a ponytail and I left the room with my suitcase in tow. It was passed on to another undercover SHIELD Agent who would keep up the charade that Eliana Maddux had not gone anywhere when Dubois was missing. She had been in the hotel bar wearing an identical dress and multiple witnesses would corroborate her story.
I wandered into the hotel car park and located the sleek black Maserati I'd been left to drive myself to the airport.
The streets of Monte Carlo were the same as when I'd arrived. No one was aware of the events that had unfolded earlier in the night and as I passed the doors of the casino I saw the two girls who had been accompanying Dubois waiting on the side of the road, their thin arms around each other as their eyes searched for him. I ignored them as I drove past, but I couldn't help hoping they'd do something with the opportunity I'd indirectly offered them.