I sat at the Café Angevin in the heart of Paris; a cappuccino firmly in my hands and a book of love poems propped against a vase of daisies on the table. In the reflection of the glass, I could see myself the way the outside saw me: a dark, artistic looking girl with long black hair. They didn’t know it was a wig. My black beret and beatnik clothes made me look like an art student in France, enjoying a mug of coffee and the crisp, autumn weather.
For the last 6 months I had been in hiding, doing odd end jobs and listening for any word of Company or Ghost or even John Smith. I had forged a passport and got a ticket out of the country knowing that the authorities would be looking for me. I had been traveling across Europe, never staying in one place for too long and never leaving a trace of my existence behind. I hadn’t heard anything about my old life with Company until about a month ago.
Marcel Le Blanc and his men were some of the most notorious thieves in France. If you wanted something to disappear for one place and reappear in your possession, he was the one to call. Priceless artwork, government documents, candy from a baby, you name it, he’s probably stolen it at one point or another.
My targets were his sons and his best men: Oliver, Jean and Warren Le Blanc. Each had their specialty. Oliver was one of the best hackers in the business. He’s been known to brag about how he hacked into the Chinese government in thirty seconds flat, twice. Jean was a lover of the theatrics, disguising himself as anyone he can for a job. I hated to admit it to myself, but, having seen him in the costume over the course of my month of surveillance, he didn’t look half bad as a woman. Then, there was Warren, the oldest of the three and also the biggest. He was the muscle, but he was also surprisingly light on his feet. He was the one that got the job done.
The three brothers, together, were a force to be reckoned with and were Marcel’s crowned jewels. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice about the men and would let the government authorities handle them. That was before I had caught wind that Company was out for them after they stole the wrong information….my information.
I tilted my head to the right, toward the nearby playground where a mischievous four-year-old, blonde boy was kicking down the ill-constructed sand castle of a three-year-old girl in pigtails across the street. The focus of my eyes, however, was drawn to the undetectable reflection of the mirrors on the outer edges of my glasses. They were juvenile spyware, sure, but they were effective and passed for four hundred dollar designer sunglasses, which I appreciated.
On the opposite corner of the small café, the three brothers dressed dark suits congregated around a tall, iron lamppost. To the rest of the bystanders, they looked like three businessmen, stopping to have a chat on their way from their lunch break, but I knew better. I knew all too well who those men were and what they were capable of.
They were just wrapping up their conversation when the handsome young waiter walked up to my table, nervously wiping his hands on his white apron.
“Is there anything else that you would like, mademoiselle,” he asked with a heavy accent. I turned my head toward the waiter and eyed him up and down. He was seemingly harmless with his hands wringing in front of him and a nervous smile on his handsome face. I took one more glance at the brothers as they strolled down the street before taking the glasses off their perch and smiling up at the waiter.
“The check would be lovely, thank you. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
Ten minutes later, the three brothers were making a turn past a newspaper stand and disappearing into a damp alley hidden from the eyes of their fellow pedestrians. They paid little attention to the blonde with the large, blue hat, chewing away at her bubblegum and flipping through the latest fashion magazine. I smirked from under my wide-brimmed hat as I watched them turn. I thanked the elderly newsstand owner and followed, singing quietly to myself.
“She was trained like one of us. She defied her fate. An assassin, she might be. She’s no killer, she’s top rate. Jane Doe of Company. She chooses her path. Look to her and you’ll see, you’re no agent of death’s wrath.”
My cerulean heels clicked quietly against the pavement as I made my way deeper into enemy territory. I could feel the tension in the air, the gut feeling telling me that something here was dangerous.
The buildings on either side of me were high; at least ten stories each, with minimum windows. There was a door and a dumpster on my left and two doors on my right. My voice ricocheted off the graffiti covered walls.
“Jane Doe of Company. She chooses her path.”
“Look to her and you’ll see, you’re no agent of death’s wrath,” a deep, accented voice behind me sang, finishing my song as a spun to face him.
There in front of me stood Warren, all 6’3” of him. Behind him, I could see his brothers standing in the shadows.
“What a lovely little ditty,” Jean chuckled. “And who might this Jane Doe be for all of her accolades and songs?”
“According to Company, you would know,” I retorted.
“Ah, I see we have a Company cutie in our midst gentlemen,” he said. My mood instantly darkened.
“Let me get one thing straight before we go any further. Call me that again and I’m afraid I’ll have to use this.” I pulled a small handgun from the thigh holster that was barely hidden beneath my skirt. I pointed it at Jean, showing him that I meant business.
“No, Jean. She’s can’t be a Company girl,” Oliver stated. “Look at her! She’s obviously a little Ghost girl now.” A silencer dulled the sound of the gunshot as I aimed for Oliver’s knees. He crumpled to the ground in a whimpering heap.
“I wouldn’t call me that either.” I pointed the gun at Oliver’s head. “Now, shall we get down to business or would you like me to shoot again?”
Warren laughed darkly. “You forget, Miss Doe. That we’ve read your file. We know that you wouldn’t kill.”
I smirked and for a moment, I thought I saw doubt in Warren’s eyes. “That may be so, but that won’t stop me from making sure that your little hacker can’t type another code. So, I’ll ask again. Business? Now?”
Warren looked as if he were about ready to kill me where I stood, but I stood my ground. Jean at least had the decency to look scared as he approached me.
“I take it you would like the file, Miss Doe?”
“If you mean that file that contains information that’s rightfully mine, then yes.”
“Well, I’m afraid Miss Doe that we no longer have such a file in our possession.”
“Really?” I shot again, this time at Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver howled in pain and it was just enough to put Warren over the edge.
He charged right at me and while he might have been known for being fast on his feet, I was faster. I leaped into the air and captured his neck between my thighs. With a flip of my body, he was down on the ground with me standing over him. I put the tip of my heel to his neck, pointing my gun at Jean in case he dared to try anything.
“Like my shoes, Warren? Designed them myself. The edges of the heel are as sharp as blades so I think it’s best that you don’t try and get up. They might slip and accidently cut someone.”
Warren’s face began to turn red with anger and I smirked over him. He knew that one wrong move and he would be dead. “I’ll repeat my question one more time. Where is the file?”
No one moved. I’m not sure if anyone even breathed in that moment.
Then I heard someone applauding and a familiar voice came out of the shadows.
“Well done, Janie.”
I turned my head, frantically looking for John Smith’s annoying smirk, but I couldn’t find him.
“Smith?”
“Hmm, I see that my reputation has preceded me. It has certainly preceded you. It gives me pleasure to finally meet such a legend.”
I froze, confused by his statement. Had Ghost….no, they couldn’t have.
“What are you playing at Smith? If memory serves me correctly, you were the one that helped me in my hour of need.”
A movement caught the corner of my eye as John Smith walked out into the light. He looked the same as he did the first day I met him, smirk firmly in place, but…his eyes. They were stone.
This was not the John Smith I knew.
“That, my little Company cutie, is impossible.”
He came closer and I felt like I couldn’t move a muscle to stop him as he grabbed ahold of my arms. He pushed me into the shadows and up against the rough brick wall.
“Now, I hear that you are looking for a small file that I have recently come into the possession of. Maybe, we can make a little deal?”
A dirty rag covered my nose and mouth and I didn’t fight it as I breathed in the chemical.
The last thought I had before everything went black was that Ghost did exactly as I feared.
They erased his memory.