Chapter 13 - "Mia Andrews"

Mia Andrews jogged along the park track, keeping a steady pace as her red hair, cut in a red bob, bounced around her neck. She glanced slightly to her side, and whistled. "Come on, Gunny," she said, and the German shepherd followed closely, his tongue flapping in the wind. Mia couldn't help but grin every time she saw that goofy grin on her dog's face. She had always doubted that dogs actually smiled, but when she first saw Gunny that changed her mind.

Mia finished the lap, slowing her jog and striding to the sedan she used to ferry about Gotham. She opened the passenger door, and Gunny hopped in obediently, sitting down like dogs always sat in seats with proper manners. He was a trained dog, but Mia had never seen any dog—no matter how well-trained—act like a person and sit down in a seat.

As Mia moved to the driver's side, she popped the door open and climbed inside, letting out a deep sigh as she uncapped the water bottle in the cupholder beside her. As she gulped a mouthful of the refreshing liquid, she poured a bit in a metal bowl she kept under the passenger seat and sat it beside Gunny, who drank ravenously.

While the dog slurped down his water, Mia capped the bottle and sat it down again. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead, and reached for the ignition, starting up the car. At twenty-nine, Mia had already lived a full life, working as a CIA agent before retiring from the stress, moving to her current job working for a local analytics company in Gotham.

Part of her CIA routine involved her relentlessly working out and staying in shape. While she specialized in such skillsets as espionage, decryption, and other assets important to being a spy, she still made sure to be physically fit. As Samuel White, the agent who had employed her, said, you never knew when a diplomatic situation would take a turn for the worse.

There were only a few occasions when things had gone south, and she had a reminder of one such incident—a scar below her right ear. She had tried to decrypt a code when she was ambushed by a few foreign agents. She had easily dispatched two with her adequate pistol training, but the third converged before she could train her gun on him and he disarmed her. A hand-to-hand bout followed, in which Mia had been cut by the man's knife before she turned the tables and wound up sticking him with his own blade.

To this day, Mia made sure she still was in shape, despite working in a less physically strenuous field. It was a habit that she thought she would never lose. She still kept her field pistol, but rarely used it. Guns added to the reminder of the strains and life-or-death situations she had been involved in—and the lives she had taken.

Yes, the people she had killed were threats, but that didn't make it any easier.

As Mia maneuvered the car onto the roadway, she heard the telltale buzz of her phone ringing. She glanced at the caller ID before picking up and answered with a, "Hi, Veronica. How's it going?"

Mia's best friend, Veronica Haverson, spoke up on the other end. "Couldn't be better!" Uh oh. When Veronica said, "Couldn't be better," Mia usually knew what it meant.

"Not tonight, Veronica. I'm not up to it."

Veronica groaned. "Mia, you never go out when I invite you somewhere. It's just a small get-together with some friends." Then, the age-old add-on: "You might find someone you like."

"Listen, Veronica—I've been over this time and time again. When I get ready to settle down with someone, I'll do the looking. I don't need a matchmaker!"

"And by then you'll be an old maid who won't have any experience." Veronica was a social butterfly, always had been since they were kids. She had a budding career as a singer but had yet to take off—but that couldn't be attributed to a lack of effort. Veronica was as hard a worker as Mia knew, and she had enough connections to make a phonebook all her own.

Just not the right connections, it seemed.

"Thanks for the thought, but like I said, I'm gonna have to pass. I was gonna hang out with Mom, Everet, and Mirrah tonight. I haven't been able to be with them for a bit."

"Well, as long as it's a family situation, I'll let it slide—this time," she added with mock frustration. Then she burst into laughter. "All right, I'll let you go, Mia. If you happen to change your mind, just call me up. You're always welcome."

"Thanks, Veronica. Talk to you later. See ya." Mia hung up the phone and placed it down, glancing to Gunny, who was watching her with big eyes—and a big smile. Mia couldn't help but brighten whenever she saw the German shepherd. "So, Gunny, you excited for tonight? You'll get to hang out with your aunt, uncle, and grandma." She affectionately thought of Gunny as her little baby, even though he was technically the man of the house.

The dog just kept on smiling and watching her. Mia kept smiling as well as she turned back to amble down the road. Within a minute, she had pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex. After opening the door, she led Gunny out and made her way to her apartment. Had to clean it up before her family came over. Her mom, Chelsea, had planned to come over that night at six, which gave Mia two hours to get showered, dressed, and clean up a bit. Her mom was going to bring Mia's younger siblings, sixteen-year-old Everet and thirteen-year-old Mirrah, with her. It had been at least a week since Mia had seen any of her relatives, not counting the oldest of her siblings, twenty-three-year-old Hannah. Mia and Hannah didn't hang out as often as they used to, as Hannah was married and was supporting her husband through college. Because of the hours and constraints of married life, Hannah had been unable to meet with Mia as often. Their only interactions really came in the form of meetings for lunch or dinner, when they were both free.

Mia led Gunny into the apartment, closing the door and locking it behind her. She unlatched Gunny's leash as the dog tore off, certainly to find one of his misplaced toys. As his claws padded on the tiled floor of the kitchenette, Mia walked towards the bathroom. After flicking on the light and closing the door, Mia stripped off her clothes and took a quick, refreshing shower.

Once she finished, Mia dressed in some casual attire—a comfy T-shirt and some jeans—and made her way to the kitchen. Gunny was curled up, gnawing on a bone he had found somewhere. Mia scratched him between the ears before she moved to the sink, washing her hands.

As she dried them, Mia heard her cell phone buzz and she quickly moved towards it. She answered the call and held the phone to her ear. "Hello, this is Mia Andrews." The voice that answered her on the other end was one she hadn't expected to hear—she hadn't heard it in a long, long time.

"Hello, Mia. How's the simple life keeping you?"

Mia grinned. "Sam! I haven't heard from you . . . what's it been, now? A year? Two?"

"One and a half," Samuel White's smooth, calm voice replied. Mia could picture him now, seated behind a desk somewhere in the depths of secret office, his gray hair combed neatly.

"What's up?" Mia asked. While she and Sam had grown to be dependable partners and even good friends while working together, she knew something had to be beneath the surface to make Sam call her up out of the blue.

A sharp inhale sounded on the other end of the line. "As you know, the CIA works in conjunction with governments from all across the United States. Well, recently we were called in to help out in Gotham."

Mia chuckled. "Gotham? What's in Gotham that could be attracting the CIA? I mean, the crime is pretty bad, but that's a given in life, right?"

"A given, yes, but one that could be helped. You see, the Gotham politicians and other higher-ups have pooled their resources to contact the federal government and ask for aid in fighting the crime. It seems something big is going in Gotham, a lot more than the proper authorities there can handle. I saw a couple papers come across my desk, and I knew how capable of an agent you were. Still are, if my hunch is correct."

"You haven't lost your touch, Sam. How'd you guess?"

"Just my knowledge of who you are, Mia. You kept a pretty tight schedule and were set in your ways; if there was something you did regularly, you did it regularly. And I don't think six and a half years' worth of training just disappears, even after a year and a half."

Mia felt her smile creep back up. "Tactical and clever as always. You haven't changed a bit, Sam. So, anyways, what else is there on this government-funded project in Gotham?"

"Well, I knew how capable you were in the CIA, so I contacted a couple of people in Gotham and told them about you, your skills, and your background. You sounded like someone they could use, I was told." A brief pause, then, "What do you think? Would you be up for another bout against crime?"

Mia sighed. "I appreciate your thoughts, Sam, but as I said when I left the CIA, this entire lifestyle just wears you down. It wore me down—hard. I don't know if I have what it takes to get back into again. When you fight for people as a whole, you can often go unnoticed and you feel burnt out. I don't want to feel that way again." A moment's silence crept in, bringing back feelings that Mia had tried to quell, tried to do away with when she retired from the CIA. In truth, she lacked the emotional attachment to people that she had once had. In the grand scheme of things, she viewed people as pieces in a large puzzle.

"Look, Mia—I know you enough to know that deep down, you don't mean that. Sure, living the life that we live—or lived, in your case—means sacrificing a lot. You aren't the kind of person to just give up everything, I knew that then. And I still do. But just remember, you're still young, you've got a whole life ahead of you. This project could help shape Gotham into a place where you can live without any more fears. You would be able to build these attachments that you've longed for."

Silence filled the air again, and Mia mulled over her thoughts. Answers of varying capacity filled her head, and she juggled them back and forth. Deep down, she knew that Sam was telling the truth. If she fought back against organized crime, Gotham would become a better place. It would be safer for Hannah as she started a family, for Everet to become a cop, for Mirrah to grow up—and for her to finally find the life she had spent years searching for.

Mia exhaled deeply, and then pursed her lips. "I'm in. Give me the details."

Harvey Dent entered Arthur Reeves's office, and immediately wished he hadn't. "Oh, dear God—what's that smell?" he spat, reaching for his nose.

"Come now, Harvey," Reeves murmured with a smile as he brushed his coal black hair over. "It isn't that bad."

"You're right, it's worse," Harvey muttered, removing his hand to reveal a disgusted face. "What is it? Some kind of bug repellent?"

"No, Mr. DA, it's the best cologne money can buy."

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Oh," he said, as if he had to guess. With Reeves, pretty much everything outside of a press conference involved preening himself. "What, do you have a date or something?"

"A date with the most gorgeous girl you could ever meet, Harv. Long, flowing scarlet hair, the body a model would dream of—"

"Look, Arthur, I didn't come here to discuss your love life," Harvey muttered. He had grown up with Arthur and had learned to put up with the man in the past, but now he was almost unbearable. Whenever anyone attempted to discuss something important with him, he always shrugged it off in favor of his looks or something else. "We have that press conference coming up, and I thought we had better lock down a few details."

"Please, Harv, we can discuss this later. I've got more important things to worry about." Reeves finished at the mirror and turned back around. "How do I look?"

"You look fine, but your smell is questionable. You sure this stuff isn't gonna scare your date away?"

"Of course not," Arthur countered. "It's just that it's all trapped in this stuffy office. Once I get out and on the move, it'll settle and just linger on me, for us to enjoy." As he made his way towards the office door, he planted a friendly hand on Harvey's back. "Drop by my office tomorrow. We can discuss the press conference then. Sound good?"

Harvey sighed. "Sure, Arthur. Tomorrow."

Reeves clapped his hand on Harvey's back. "Good! I'll see you then. Take care, Harv." With that, he exited the office and slammed the door behind him, leaving Harvey to stroke his forehead.

"Of all the friends I had growing up, why was Arthur Reeves the one who decided to enter politics with me?"

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay, but here's chapter 13, where you get introduced to our second-to-last character, Mia Andrews. What'd you all think of her and the chapter itself? The story is shaping up, and we have just one more intro to go. And then it's the meeting. I look forward to the adventure that's to come! Hope you all enjoyed it, and as always, leave your thoughts in the reviews. Until next time!