The Kingmaker

6 - Unusual

Half-illuminated by streetlights and far too crowded. There were enough warm bodies hurrying to and fro along this street to lose herself, which was exactly the point. She didn't have far to go. A hundred more paces and she would be in position. There were a few key blind spots in the city not covered by CCTV, but that one had been the one she had chosen. A short pedestrian crossing that connected two corner shops, it was the densest pocket of foot traffic in the immediate area. There, they would make the swap. It would be over in less than a second, and no one around would ever care enough to notice much less bother to remember anything.

Fifty paces.

There was no one to ask Eden if she was sure about this, to tell her that if she crossed over that threshold, there would be nothing she could do stop what she put in motion. There was no one to tug at her elbow and ask if maybe she had chosen the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong way to do all of this. But it was better this way. Eden had no doubt about that.

Yes, things could go wrong, and yes, if they did, she would never get another opportunity like this ever again. And yet that was a risk she had no choice but to take because she had waited long enough. Too long. More than three thousand days of letting someone hold onto their victory far longer than they should have been able to keep it. Three thousand days of drowning quietly in her thirst for blood, letting it mature and blossom in the dark while she lay leashed in the doghouse.

Twenty paces.

In the end, this would get her killed. She knew it. She'd been warned as much when she first began reintegrating into the public, when she had finally earned herself a quasi-independence minus the nonstop surveillance (that was a given, she had no complaints about it): don't do anything stupid, and we won't have to clip you. And so she had stayed obediently within the confines of her suburban life, had given herself over to the good work and applied her talents in emerging defense technology for God and country (God being the president as far everyone wanted her to believe), and growing up the way they wanted her to. Talented, intelligent, diligent. Useful.

Until now. Because yes, nearly a decade had passed, but she had never changed. Not really. She just got better at lying, better at hiding, better at convincing everyone that she had been all but tamed and declawed. All wrong, all of them - the last eight years might as well have been been a single day to her. Because underneath the facade, she was still the same, still furious, still burning. Still itching to carve her pound of owed flesh from those who had wronged her and more.

Ten paces.

Someone had looked out for her all this time, so-called friends in high places who had tried to keep her out of trouble until now. All for her mother's sake, or so she had been told. Well, it was good that her mother had suck loyal friends willing to look out for her child even after her passing, but it - and they - had nothing to do with Eden now. She didn't care about their consciences or their debts, didn't care about their connections. All of that predated her concerns, and she had only ever possessed one desire, one object. One vendetta. She would find the ones responsible for taking everything from her and make them regret it.

For what they had done, she would pay them back tenfold and more. No one won against her without losing something even more valuable in the process. An eye for an eye? Please. Maybe if she intended to play fair, but that wasn't going to happen. She pressed her fingernails into her palms, breathing in the cold night air and imagining, dreaming of all the ways she could gouge and m**m everyone who had ever crossed her, all the ways she would revel in their pain.

Five paces. Three.

One.

The appeared in front of her in the thick crowd traversing the crosswalk, a young woman hanging onto the arm of her boyfriend as they put their heads together and giggled under their heavy, fur-lined hoods. Cute, Eden thought, but she didn't have the time to admire her doppelganger any more than that. Just as they passed each other, Eden spun about as did the other woman, and for the split second that they caught each other's eyes, a sharp understanding crackled between them. Their hands moved in a flash. Eden's double whipped off her detachable fur hood and handed it off to her, who slid it onto her own head and hitched the collar of her matching black jacket over the bottom of it.

The next second, Eden was the one hanging on the man's arm instead, pressing her head against his and both of their faces half-covered under the edge of their hoods. She didn't look back, but she knew her double was now the one who had taken her place, long black hair streaming behind her and her hands in her pockets as she disappeared down the street. She would have entered CCTV range again by now. So had Eden.

Two seconds, three paces of anonymity. That was all it took to throw away her life, just one little blind spot in the city's surveillance. The crowd would have seen nothing, would forget it in seconds even if they had. They had more important things to worry about, after all, and she could relate. These last eight years had passed in the blink of an eye, a blurred memory that remained only because it had been time spent nurturing and cultivating her quiet fury, her patient blood lust. A blurred memory only recognizable by the deep scores she had gouged in her soul to count every passing day.

It was done. She was going home.

And she was going to make them all burn.

---------

"Something's wrong with her."

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit tonight, Zero. Get what you came for and go. Don't bother me."

"Sure, sure. She up to anything strange yet?"

"No. Got home late and she's passed out on the sofa again, barely makes it to the bed these days. The usual."

Zero chuckled and pointed at the second monitor on the top row, which was currently showing the view of half of a living room and part of a kitchen. A woman lay sprawled out on a plush loveseat, one arm thrown over her face as she dozed under a dim light. "The usual," he said mockingly. "The only time you pay attention to her now is when she puts on some show you're missing, you wouldn't know 'usual' if it bit you in the sack. How long have you had eyes on her, did she get in late tonight -"

"For two years, that's how long. So I sure as hell know better than you about what I'm doing."

"Yeah? You sure about that?" Zero leaned back, and the other man gave him a cold glare before spinning his chair back around toward the monitoring rig.

"Why are you here again? Who keeps sending you? I'm doing fine on my own, I don't need some asshole half my age telling me how to do my job."

"Relax, Ray. I could do that, but that's not what I'm here for. Just came to check something..." He began inspecting the monitors one by one with a close eye, peering at each one for several seconds before moving on to the next. "I knew it, something's wrong," he said again, although he was mostly murmuring to himself this time. "She's..."

"God, give it a rest. Piss off and leave the job to the actual experts." Ray waved a hand in Zero's face with a sour grimace and then pointed him in the direction of the door. "And you can stick to the field where you belong."

"You know, I heard there was a time when being a desk jockey wasn't a good thing."

"Times have changed, and that was long before you pulled your first trigger, kid. Everything runs on a good chip and lots and lots of 'desk jockeys' to keep everyone's asses alive now, so don't try that with me."

"Thanks," said Zero. "I appreciate all your hard work."

"Oh, nor your ass. You're just a mercenary, I don't give a s**t about you. 'Private security contractor,' my left nut."

Zero turned to gift the older man with a wide grin, who responded only with an extended middle finger before sliding his headset back into proper place over his ears. "Alright, you don't like me, but I like you more and more. You got any plans this weekend? Wanna grab drinks?"

"Shut up and leave me alone if you're done with whatever you came here to do. I'm going to have a talk with the director and make sure you can't scoot your ass in here anymore. For f**k's sake, you're barging in every night now."

"Then if tonight's my last night here, maybe I should make it worthwhile." Zero ignored the man's exasperated groan and leaned over the desk again, eyes fixed once more on the monitors before him. "You sure she didn't do anything unusual when she came in? Look at her. There's something different about her legs -"

Instead of replying, Ray reached over to turn off the screens one by one with deliberate movements, going so far as to jostle the younger man's elbow to get him to move out of the way. Zero's bright blue eyes flickered down to stare at him, but he said nothing and simply watched until Ray leaned back in his chair with his hands laced behind the back of his head. With a distinct air of smug satisfaction, he then swung his legs up onto the desk, crossed his ankles, and stared up at the mercenary.

"Get out of here, kid," he said. "I've only got room here for one."

Zero grinned again. "I remember when you used to have to do your surveillance from inside that old van. You remember, right? Just after she'd moved out to this neighborhood. You all hadn't managed to secure this unit yet, and God, that van smelled like burnt popcorn for that entire summer. And hey, it was a lot more cramped in that van, you know, and we used to get along alright."

"Yeah, before I realized you've got a fixation on her and you're just coming by every night to get your rocks off."

"I'm just doing my job. How am I supposed to watch over her without watching her."

"Yeah," Ray snorted. "Like when you try to watch over her every time she's about to get into the shower."

Zero shrugged, not even bothering to defend himself. "She might get jumped in there."

"You'd be the one doing the jumping."

"Could be. I wouldn't mind."

At the young man's flippant admission, Ray gave him a disgusted look to let him know exactly what he thought of his shameless habits. "Get out of here. "

"I'm just saying. If she didn't want someone to try to see, she wouldn't leave her bathroom door half open while she's taking off her clothes. And she always stands just off to the edge so that the camera can't catch her through the mirror over the sink, either. She knows someone's watching, knows exactly where the camera is. But she does it anyway. She's a f*****g tease is what she is, and if I stick around, she might even show me a little ass one of these days."

"Director's gonna love hearing about this."

"Yeah," agreed Zero. "But in the meantime, do me a favor and watch her a little more closely. She's acting off. Might be planning something."

"Been surveilling her long enough to be able to tell that myself, if it ever happens. So go on. Get out."

Zero tossed him an impudent wink, and then did as he was told.

...No one saw the smirk disappear, replaced by a cold impassivity in the next instant.