Meeting Agent Smith
Two nights ago........
It had been an especially bad day at work, and at long last her shift was over. After clocking out, she was anxious to get home, put her aching feet up and maybe watch some TV before she fell asleep.
However, after leaving the club, Rumors, where she worked as a cocktail waitress, she found that her usual shortcut home was blocked off by numerous police cars and uniformed officers everywhere. Curious, she pushed her way through the throng of onlookers until she got to the barricade the police had put up.
She recognized the officer in charge, for as a matter of fact, many months ago he had been the last one to arrest her for solicitation, when she tried to pick him up in some dive bar not far from where they were now.
She caught his eye and he grinned at her. "You're not still in the trade, are you Ronnie?" he asked her.
"Nope. I quit that a long time ago, Greg. What's going on over here?" she asked.
He sighed and spat on the ground. "There's a suspected terrorist in the Heart O' The City hotel over there, and we've sent some uniforms in to apprehend her. They should be bringing her out soon."
Her attention was distracted by the arrival of a black sedan drove up to the front doors of the hotel, and she noticed three tall men in identical black suits get out of the car. Bronwyn didn't recognize the men, but she did remember seeing similar men in suits when she lived in New York, a lifetime ago it seemed.
Why do these guys always wear sunglasses at night, she wondered. What are they trying to prove?
"When these boneheads in black show up, weird shit always happens", she muttered to herself. She was surprised when the man who appeared to be in charge turned his head and looked at her. What the hell, she thought, how could he hear me from way over there?
He continued to stare at her, and a perverse desire to show him he wasn't scaring her, made her brazenly stare back at him. She looked him up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance, then scoffed at him, before returning her gaze and attention to the officer she had been speaking with.
Smith narrowed his eyes and looked at her in disdain. How dare she dismiss me like that, he thought in annoyance
The night air was suddenly disturbed at gunshots rang out. A sudden flurry of movement on the roof caught the attention of everyone. From where she stood, Bronwyn saw a tall, slender woman in black race across the rooftop and jump to a neighboring roof, with the youngest of the three men in the car in hot pursuit behind her.
Some of the onlookers gasped in amazement at the woman's daring, but Bronwyn did not. She knew that the woman was running for her life and that if the man in the suit caught her, he would certainly kill her.
"Jesus H. Christ," Greg stated as he saw her continue running to the end of the roof. "She's not gonna jump that, is she? That gap between those buildings has gotta be at least 30 feet—she'll never make it!"
"Yes, she will. And the moron in black following her is going to make it too, unfortunately. Don't worry, Greg, she's not going to fall".
She was too preoccupied with the drama unfolding on the roof to notice as Smith jerked his head around to listen to what she was saying. How did she know about us and our abilities, he wondered. Clearly, this woman knows quite a bit about the Resistance, and he received instructions through his earpiece to take her in for questioning.
He had no time to wonder about Bronwyn then, for he saw Trinity sail horizontally into a window and because of the insider's information, the only exit that she could get to was at Wells and Lake, only a block away.
He saw a city dump truck nearby and ran towards it, then yanked the door open, started the ignition and drove it so that it was less than 20 feet away from the phone booth that was her exit and waited.
Oh my God, he's going to ram that truck into that booth, thought Bronwyn, horrified. She saw the woman get in, and then moments later heard the sound of shattering glass as the booth was completely destroyed. Smith rejoined his two companions and they started walking toward their car.
"Good for her. She got away, didn't she?" Bronwyn raised her voice so that the 3 agents couldn't choose to overhear her. Smith came towards her, followed closely by Jones and Brown.
"Something I can help you with, pal?" she sneered.
"The name is Smith. Agent Smith."
She scoffed. "Smith, huh? Yeah, right buddy."
He still stared at her.
"Haven't seen a woman before, Agent Smith? Or did you just get out of prison?"
Greg whistled soundlessly. "C'mon, Ronnie, back off, will ya? This guy is not somebody you want to fuck with. Seriously."
"No kidding, Greg." She blatantly stared at Smith. "What kind of monster would drive a dump truck into a phone booth, anyway?" She turned to leave, but Smith grabbed her by the arm before she could leave.
"What do you know about the woman?" he ordered.
Bronwyn tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was too strong.
"I don't know anything about her. And even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell a dickhead like you, Agent Smith." She laughed harshly in his face, enjoying the idea of insulting this irritating, self-righteous man openly, in front of his subordinates.
Jones and Brown exchanged a look between them. No one, let alone a woman, ever spoke to their superior like this.
What should we do with her? asked Jones via his earpiece.
She knows about us and probably the rebels as well. I want her for questioning. Find out who she is and pick her up the day after tomorrow. came Smith's reply.
"Let go of my arm," she demanded. Without a word, Smith let her go and walked abruptly away, Jones and Brown following dutifully behind him.
Sitting in the backseat of the sedan and being driven by his underlings only reinforced Smith's knowledge of his superiority over them, and the elevated status as the most dangerous and efficient Agent the Matrix had ever produced was not something he took lightly.
To lose the esteem and fear of his two colleagues, even for a moment, was completely unacceptable. I will enjoy making her pay, Smith thought to himself, on the drive back to the Agency headquarters. She will regret ever having crossed me and I will enjoy humiliating and degrading her by any means necessary in the presence of Jones and Brown, to reinforce to them that I am not to be trifled with, by programs or humans alike.
The idea of this assertive, arrogant and confident woman being broken mentally or physically, appealed to everything dark that made up Smith's nature. To be made a fool of, to be openly laughed at by a human, especially a woman, in the presence of his subordinates was not something that Smith would ever let go unpunished.
He leaned back in the seat and recalled her to his mind. Small stature. I doubt if the top of her head would come up to my chin, he thought. She had a shapely ass, decent legs and more than enough cleavage to appeal to the baser aspects of any man's nature, especially mine, Smith smirked to himself in the dark car.
Even though he was a program, Smith was man enough to appreciate the human female form, and had experienced much pleasure at their expense during his years as an Agent of the system, for rape was his preferred method of interrogation with women, and to inflict that on this female he had met tonight would undeniably bring him much pleasure indeed.
Two nights ago........
It had been an especially bad day at work, and at long last her shift was over. After clocking out, she was anxious to get home, put her aching feet up and maybe watch some TV before she fell asleep.
However, after leaving the club, Rumors, where she worked as a cocktail waitress, she found that her usual shortcut home was blocked off by numerous police cars and uniformed officers everywhere. Curious, she pushed her way through the throng of onlookers until she got to the barricade the police had put up.
She recognized the officer in charge, for as a matter of fact, many months ago he had been the last one to arrest her for solicitation, when she tried to pick him up in some dive bar not far from where they were now.
She caught his eye and he grinned at her. "You're not still in the trade, are you Ronnie?" he asked her.
"Nope. I quit that a long time ago, Greg. What's going on over here?" she asked.
He sighed and spat on the ground. "There's a suspected terrorist in the Heart O' The City hotel over there, and we've sent some uniforms in to apprehend her. They should be bringing her out soon."
Her attention was distracted by the arrival of a black sedan drove up to the front doors of the hotel, and she noticed three tall men in identical black suits get out of the car. Bronwyn didn't recognize the men, but she did remember seeing similar men in suits when she lived in New York, a lifetime ago it seemed.
Why do these guys always wear sunglasses at night, she wondered. What are they trying to prove?
"When these boneheads in black show up, weird shit always happens", she muttered to herself. She was surprised when the man who appeared to be in charge turned his head and looked at her. What the hell, she thought, how could he hear me from way over there?
He continued to stare at her, and a perverse desire to show him he wasn't scaring her, made her brazenly stare back at him. She looked him up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance, then scoffed at him, before returning her gaze and attention to the officer she had been speaking with.
Smith narrowed his eyes and looked at her in disdain. How dare she dismiss me like that, he thought in annoyance
The night air was suddenly disturbed at gunshots rang out. A sudden flurry of movement on the roof caught the attention of everyone. From where she stood, Bronwyn saw a tall, slender woman in black race across the rooftop and jump to a neighboring roof, with the youngest of the three men in the car in hot pursuit behind her.
Some of the onlookers gasped in amazement at the woman's daring, but Bronwyn did not. She knew that the woman was running for her life and that if the man in the suit caught her, he would certainly kill her.
"Jesus H. Christ," Greg stated as he saw her continue running to the end of the roof. "She's not gonna jump that, is she? That gap between those buildings has gotta be at least 30 feet—she'll never make it!"
"Yes, she will. And the moron in black following her is going to make it too, unfortunately. Don't worry, Greg, she's not going to fall".
She was too preoccupied with the drama unfolding on the roof to notice as Smith jerked his head around to listen to what she was saying. How did she know about us and our abilities, he wondered. Clearly, this woman knows quite a bit about the Resistance, and he received instructions through his earpiece to take her in for questioning.
He had no time to wonder about Bronwyn then, for he saw Trinity sail horizontally into a window and because of the insider's information, the only exit that she could get to was at Wells and Lake, only a block away.
He saw a city dump truck nearby and ran towards it, then yanked the door open, started the ignition and drove it so that it was less than 20 feet away from the phone booth that was her exit and waited.
Oh my God, he's going to ram that truck into that booth, thought Bronwyn, horrified. She saw the woman get in, and then moments later heard the sound of shattering glass as the booth was completely destroyed. Smith rejoined his two companions and they started walking toward their car.
"Good for her. She got away, didn't she?" Bronwyn raised her voice so that the 3 agents couldn't choose to overhear her. Smith came towards her, followed closely by Jones and Brown.
"Something I can help you with, pal?" she sneered.
"The name is Smith. Agent Smith."
She scoffed. "Smith, huh? Yeah, right buddy."
He still stared at her.
"Haven't seen a woman before, Agent Smith? Or did you just get out of prison?"
Greg whistled soundlessly. "C'mon, Ronnie, back off, will ya? This guy is not somebody you want to fuck with. Seriously."
"No kidding, Greg." She blatantly stared at Smith. "What kind of monster would drive a dump truck into a phone booth, anyway?" She turned to leave, but Smith grabbed her by the arm before she could leave.
"What do you know about the woman?" he ordered.
Bronwyn tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was too strong.
"I don't know anything about her. And even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't tell a dickhead like you, Agent Smith." She laughed harshly in his face, enjoying the idea of insulting this irritating, self-righteous man openly, in front of his subordinates.
Jones and Brown exchanged a look between them. No one, let alone a woman, ever spoke to their superior like this.
What should we do with her? asked Jones via his earpiece.
She knows about us and probably the rebels as well. I want her for questioning. Find out who she is and pick her up the day after tomorrow. came Smith's reply.
"Let go of my arm," she demanded. Without a word, Smith let her go and walked abruptly away, Jones and Brown following dutifully behind him.
Sitting in the backseat of the sedan and being driven by his underlings only reinforced Smith's knowledge of his superiority over them, and the elevated status as the most dangerous and efficient Agent the Matrix had ever produced was not something he took lightly.
To lose the esteem and fear of his two colleagues, even for a moment, was completely unacceptable. I will enjoy making her pay, Smith thought to himself, on the drive back to the Agency headquarters. She will regret ever having crossed me and I will enjoy humiliating and degrading her by any means necessary in the presence of Jones and Brown, to reinforce to them that I am not to be trifled with, by programs or humans alike.
The idea of this assertive, arrogant and confident woman being broken mentally or physically, appealed to everything dark that made up Smith's nature. To be made a fool of, to be openly laughed at by a human, especially a woman, in the presence of his subordinates was not something that Smith would ever let go unpunished.
He leaned back in the seat and recalled her to his mind. Small stature. I doubt if the top of her head would come up to my chin, he thought. She had a shapely ass, decent legs and more than enough cleavage to appeal to the baser aspects of any man's nature, especially mine, Smith smirked to himself in the dark car.
Even though he was a program, Smith was man enough to appreciate the human female form, and had experienced much pleasure at their expense during his years as an Agent of the system, for rape was his preferred method of interrogation with women, and to inflict that on this female he had met tonight would undeniably bring him much pleasure indeed.