The overcast clouds had grown to block out the midday sun, which brought with it an uncomfortable humidity. Despite the sweat on her invisible brow, Charlie moved with purpose through the city, quickly checking off street after street in the center of the town. She was grateful to Cassie for providing her with a pair of comfortable black soft canvas shoes. They helped to muffle her quick, precise steps, especially since she was in her demon form and her cloven hooves would have clicked loudly on the cobblestone sidewalks and asphalt streets. Frustratingly, the tourists and vendors were everywhere, and moving through them presented a challenge. The overabundance of smells and sounds created a sense of white noise, so she had to rely mostly on her eyesight. Yet again, she cursed her lack of wings. Why did so many human stories give those demons wings if it wasn't possible? She imagined soaring above the crowds, hunting her prey with better precision. Shaking the thought away, since it was useless and distracting, Charlie honed her senses the best that she could and turned a corner, stopping short. Ahead of her, three FBI agents were scouting a couple of abandoned properties. Quietly stepping towards them, she listened in to their reports and frowned after deciding they'd reached a dead end in the area.

Sighing internally, she checked off this section as having been covered by the authorities and moved east, heading towards the outskirts of the town and a warehouse district. As she found a spot where she could stop and rest, she drew her arm across her forehead to wick away some of the sweat and clicked a button on her earpiece: "Charlie to Angel, do you copy? Over"

A short bit of static preceded his calm, cool voice that she loved to listen to: "Go ahead. Over"

"I've cleared the grids in the middle of town, skipping the ones cleared by the FBI. I even saw Amanda in one of the northern sections. She's very pretty, Angel. I listened in, and they've not had any success. How's your research going? Over."

"It's frustrating," was Angel's response. "We're hitting dead ends left and right when it comes to this Bible character. I'm thinking he has someone high up in the government on his payroll, because the dead ends I'm hitting are obviously erased data from the internet. Cassie is communicating with The Frequencies but has had as much luck as I have. What's your twenty? Over."

Charlie was down about the lack of leads Angel and Cassie had found. She looked around to size up where she was: "East of the French Quarter, along the river front by the rails. Over."

"I recommend you run the tracks east to north along the river. Those areas house industrial parks, warehouses, and factories. Some of them could be abandoned and would afford someone privacy. So far, the FBI has been moving west and south, thinking Bible's gang may be in similar zones. Since they went one way, you take the other. Over."

"Roger that. Please hold." Charlie found herself enjoying the lingo he'd taught her, how it made this feel professional, and how she could control her emotions more easily. Checking to see no one was around, Charlie left the cloak of invisibility and pulled a map of the area out of her pocket, set with grids marks made by Angel. She conferred with it for a moment, "I'll report again after I clear up to the Florida Avenue bridge. Over."

"Excellent." Angel's voice was full of pride and affection, and Charlie warmed a bit, "Be careful, Charlie. Over and out."

Folding the map back up and slipping it into her pocket, Charlie felt her power warm around her as she faded out of site and took off at a sprint along the railroad tracks. Now that she was away from the sounds of the city, she could use all of her senses to their full potential, and she hoped to pick up something soon.