Despite Sean's reply, Carson's face scrunched. The malice that radiated from the khata in front of him caused his hair to tingle. Having spent years around demons such as these agents, Carson always reminded himself to stay on their neutral side.
"Uh... Sean... where did you...?" Carson scratched for clarification. Sean dismissed his caution with a wave of his hand.
"Like I said... it's not important." His tone brooked no argument.
"We don't have time for high school drama." Sean pointed at the laptop screen. On it, the map of the entire city's streets was exhibited.
Some areas were highlighted green; others mixed with yellow. Particular streets were overlapped with yellow and red. Two streets specifically were a dark red. A simple crime map.
In a miniature window, Sean also had a news article visible. It was about a confrontation between the Golden Pythons and the Neon Nobles. From the brief, the Neon Nobles were formed in the last five years. Their recruits came from younger generations and often had more adolescents than their rivals.
"... so, I'll take a wild guess and say finding and subduing them shouldn't be difficult." Carson queried.
"To an extent." Sean concurred partly.
"But the last thing we need is for any gangs in the vicinity to know about us. Finding the person connected to this supplier is the first step. I'd also rather not get the police involved and have them searching for us, too. Until we have all the intel, we shouldn't conduct any big moves."
Glass explicitly alerted Sean to any confrontation with law enforcement. No doubt, the Enlightened Agency had connections that'd offer leeway, but the police department as a whole wasn't an insider. Any regular man or woman in uniform would enforce the consequences of what they perceived as vigilantism.
"I'm not planning to be here for more than a couple days." Carson complained.
Forgetting her spite for an instant, Zuri snorted.
"As much as I'd rather not be here any longer than I'd have to... we can't rush this. If we blitz recklessly, not only can our targets vanish, but one or both of you could get hurt or killed."
As Zuri spoke, Sean inferred a lightness that arose at the notion. Almost as if she were obligated to state the risks. You don't seem to mind if that happened.
"Also, the Agency doesn't care about either of them. If we can get the name of the supplier and unless they've determined them to be a future snare, we have no reason to interrupt their activities." Sean added.
"True." Carson accepted the nuance.
"In the same breath, we need to imagine ourselves on a timer. I just don't want patience turning into procrastination. And whatever the supplier is doing, they aren't waiting for us."
Carson made known a counterargument.
Set on agitating, Zuri sat a few inches from Sean, watching him closely. "What we need is the gang scrambling, rushing to maintain their power and influence. Why not use the gangs against one another?"
"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Carson preemptively distrusted any ideas Zuri presented.
"Ever heard of the term, fog of war?" Zuri didn't look at Carson, keeping her eyes on Sean so as to not miss any discomfort.
"We will not do that." Sean asserted sternly.
"They're already at one another's throats. Adding a couple of matches is just cutting the time to the destination that they'll inevitably arrive at.
"And they're too selfish to unite or coordinate while we sneak around." Zuri smiled. An all too familiar smile.
"No." Sean retained his position.
"Constructing a war leaves a trace. I know you believe that you're an expert in this, but there are detectives with plenty of experience decoding causes. Eventually, they'll trace it back to the Agency. Even if it's just suspicion, we can't risk that."
Also, a war affects the innocent. There's plenty of children there, wanting to grow up and be someone important and meaningful. The last thing I want is to be responsible for snuffing out lives. Deconstructing Zuri's scheme practically, Sean gave another reason in his head.
Furthermore, Sean eased Zuri away as far as he could considering he could barely move her.
"Alright, so what's first?" Carson asked.
"Live. Don't think it about too much and don't get in any trouble." Showing up in the city uptight and appearing to hold secrets wouldn't be a good look. People aren't as perceptive as they think, and at the same time, they are more perceptive than they think.
"Let's wait about three or four days. If anything out of the ordinary happens for any of us, everyone needs to know."
Sean scrolled up on another article.
A picture of the suspect who escaped a shootout and seriously injured two officers in a brawl wore a yellow shirt with basketball shorts and a gold chain.
~
The walls were bare, except a TV that hung a few feet from the brown leather couch. Past the TV, the miniature kitchen existed across from the bathroom that had a shower.
On a wooden coffee table, springs and a pistol barrel laid on a small towel with splotches of black grease and shiny residue. Abby carefully wiped the gun barrel with the cleaning oil.
The stairs echoed as Azhir descended. His hair was tied back, eyes cold as usual. He stopped and sat on the arm of the couch, studying the parts on the table.
"You aren't going to tell campus security, are you?" Abby dryly joked.
"Do you already have a lead?" Azhir asked.
"There's been shady interactions at a house on Collins Drive. I'm curious if our target visits that location often or if it's where he holes up."
"If he were to hole up anywhere, it'd most likely be in a five-star hotel." Azhir paused in thought.
"If he had the proper funds." He finished.
"I saw one of the khata half breeds." Abby began reassembling the pistol.
"Compared to you and your associates, they are inferior. However, I'm not taking a risk in facing them alone.
"They're more durable. Making dents in cars. Lifting strength is probably one hundred pounds more than normal at the least." Abby racked the slide a couple of times before holstering her weapon.
"Do we know if the representative is human or...?"
"Whether he's human or not... I just know he isn't like the half breeds. I'll be heading out to investigate. Since this is just scouting, you can stay here if you want."
Abby turned to Azhir.
"Also, we need to rehearse the story you made without consulting me first." Abby jabbed a finger into his chest.
"I see no disadvantages. Did I give her the wrong impression?" Azhir sighed apathetically.
"... so, what exactly did you tell her?"
"A distant cousin who values family. Anything else after, I talked about myself, so you don't have to concern yourself with my the details of my lie."
Abby clicked the magazine into place. "If either of us have to make up an event or interaction, we let one another know."
Since you're a 'distant cousin,' I doubt people will fish for much in particular. Azhir thought over the reason he framed the story in that specific way. Therefore, if anyone questioned their familial status, the explanation would eliminate doubt.
Abby motioned to the trash.
"Be a gentleman and take out the trash for me." Abby smiled.
Azhir obeyed as he tied the strings and pulled the scented bag out of the plastic can.
Outside, Azhir tossed the bag into the green dumpster.
When he turned, he heard a car's engine. The mechanical sound came from a blue car parked a way off from Isha's back door. From the vehicle, Isha herself stepped out, checking her body for something.
She was in jean shorts and a long sleeve black oxford blouse, buttons closed. Her lips were colored with a light brown to match still eyes.
Where is she going? Azhir couldn't help but be curious. Nevertheless, he continued back to the apartment dorm.
"Hey..."
Azhir stopped and peered at Isha. She waved at him.
"... what's your name?" Isha asked.
"Azhir." He answered concisely.
"You don't seem to be doing anything. Am I wrong?" Isha walked out a little more.
"... why?" Azhir searched for a motive. Isha took a couple steps to prevent herself from yelling.
"I'm doing a favor and I'd rather not bear it alone. And you don't look like you've ever been to a bar."
I'm underage. Azhir shrugged.
"Maybe in three years."
"Oh. Sorry. Usually everyone who lives in the apartments is around twenty-one." Isha snickered as she apologized.
Azhir walked to the back door as he listened to the blue car drive off. Once his hand wrapped around the doorknob, he recollected Isha's expression. He scoffed to himself as his mouth twitched.
~
As usual, the grocery store played dated music. Some of the songs matched the atmosphere of purchasing food and detergents. Other songs seemed to belong in a party or club.
The employees pushed carts and stocked the dank shelves. Unless their hair was long, anyone could spot the wireless earbuds they wore.
Derek stopped in the spice aisle.
We're out of cumin and paprika. Aisha does love that sweet tang. Never thought her tastebuds would become so complicated at such a young age. Examining each spice shaker and bottle, Derek ruminated over what flavor his daughter loved.
His phone buzzes. Derek glimpsed the contact and answered.
"Yeah. I'm back in town for a couple of days." He picks out the cinnamon and paprika containers. Tossing them in the basket, he pushes the cart with one hand.
"These people... did you...?" His expression displayed suspicion, but it gradually faded as the voice over the phone explained.
"Alright. Let's push the meeting till next week. Keep 'em off your ass. In the meantime, I'll be settling some things with my boys."
Preemptively, Derek hung up and continued his shopping.
He made his way to the meat section. Passing seafood, he browsed ground beef and ground turkey. A little further down, he searched for sandwich meat. Honey roasted turkey was a favorite, but recently he developed a craving for honey ham.
"Stocking up on lunch for the week?"
Derek looked over to the source - a smiling fair skinned male. The atmosphere around him that emitted a mature vibe contrasted his soft features and frame. His emerald eyes were relaxed, yet exhausted. Derek wasn't sure whether he was a young-looking man or a sophomore aged boy.
"Pretty much. My little girl told me that food at the cafeteria tastes like uncooked paste." Derek chuckled.
"You doing the same?"
The man shook his head. "Just came from living out of state for a year. Wanted to come back to my home city." The man gestured outside the store. "Place doesn't look like it's changed too much since I last came here, unfortunately."
"Well, hopefully you'll get settled back in. And be careful." Derek grabbed five pounds of beef and rolled away. The man went back to choosing his own meat.
~
Traffic moved at a constant comfortable pace. There were a couple of slower than normal vehicles, but they were at the speed limit.
Eighteen wheelers were slightly under considering the large trailers they had to haul.
In the driver seat of the patrol car, parked in a hotel lot, Eirene watched. Her hair was tied in a bun and she wore a dark blue law enforcement uniform.
On her chest, the portable radio remained secure. Her handgun rested visibly in an open holster. Three pouches holding her magazines covered a fraction of her utility belt.
Damn. I'm so hungry. I should've told Karl to make me some breakfast this morning. Her eyes checked the time. Twenty more minutes.
As she exhaled, her eyes caught a sports car weaving through traffic and roaring its engine.
Seriously? Eirene flicked her emergency vehicle lights on and pulled out of her concealed spot.
In ten seconds, she closed in on the speeding sports car. Thankfully, the sports car slowed down and eased to the shoulder of the road. At least this won't be too dramatic. Eirene maneuvered behind the sports car then exited her vehicle to approach. Whether she'd issue a ticket or a warning all depended on the driver's demeanor.