The tan colored scarf whipped around her head in the desert wind. A single
strand of deep reddish brown hair blew in her starry blue eyes. She hurried
towards the marketplace, where the sounds of the crowd assaulted her ears.
She slipped past the dense crowd with liquid ease, slipped down a small
alley, and entered the shabby building. Inside she flashed her badge to the
armed guards posted at the door before rushing up the stairs. On this
mission time was crucial. Twenty-four hours to decide which informants got
to go, and which would be forced to stay in this place. Not one second
could be wasted. She was unpinning her scarf when she observed two people
in what seemed to be a deeply personal conversation. They immediately
stopped when they saw her, and separated slightly. The man was in his mid-
forties, with sandy blond hair, wire glasses and a sheepishly nerdy look to
him. The women had her hair in a low ponytail, and her crossed arms gave
away her fear of some unknown evil.
" I'm sorry," softly murmured the one who had interrupted, " That was
terribly rude of me."
"Not at all, " said the man extending his hand, " I'm Jackson Haisley. This
is Terri Lowell. I believe you are the Agent we are taking back to the US
with us?"
" Yes that is that's right. I'm Lizabella Stiles, " Lizabella responded,
taking his hand. Terri immediately jerked to attention when she heard
Lizabella's last name.
