Identity - Rewritten

Chapter Six

July 2009

Abby's eyes are trained on the man. His blue ball cap is facing backwards on his head, light hair poking out from underneath, blond moustache trimmed over an unsmiling mouth. Even from the reflection in the small mirror, she can identify him as the man she came to follow. His name is Peter Evensen, and he's a small pawn in a much larger game.

After a moment, she hops from the cab of the truck. Abby crouches down and ties a shoe, pushing some hair behind her ear once that's done and casually pressing a finger to the comm inside.

"I have eyes on the target," she says quietly, eventually turning to walk toward the crowd the man is standing in. In the summer heat, no one takes any note of her slipping on a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap.

"Copy that, Agent Hammond. Proceed as planned."

Abby doesn't waste a second, slipping her way into a spot a few people behind the man. The ticket line is doing anything but dwindling in the heat, and no one pays attention to a young teen on her phone. Abby looks over the screen the stare at the man, as he buys his ticket and walk into the carnival.

"He's going in," she says, shouldering last a few people to make her way inside, not bothering to buy a ticket. No one stops her, or even seems to notice.

"Do not lose sight of the target, Agent. I repeat, do not lose sight of the target."

"Copy."

Abby follows after the man, making sure to take her time at stalls and allow plenty of distance between them. The last thing she needs is to spook him– this is the best lead they've gotten in weeks.

Her mark comes to a stop by a small carnival tent after a few minutes, looking around nervously. There's something shifty in his disposition, and Abby gets a feeling she can't ignore– that whatever they're waiting for is about to happen. She looks over to her partner, Grace, then, making the first contact of the op. The other girl, standing inconspicuously in line for a booth, has her eyes on the mark, unwavering, but she's too far away to engage if he runs for it. Abby curses, pressing at her comm again.

"Control, I think the deal is about to happen," she says, biting her lip. Something about this is wrong.

After a moment, her mark leaves the tent, striding along a narrow pathway by the side of it with fewer people.

"The mark is on the move," she says, following behind. Abby glances at Grace to see the girl disappear around another tent, most likely getting in position to cut him off if need be. "Permission to engage?"

"Negative. We need to see who he's meeting."

"But the package-"

"Is not as important. Don't argue with me, Agent."

Abby lets out a deep breath, eyes still locked on Peter Evensen's back as he strides away from her. She knows that whatever's in that package could be evidence enough to put some bad people away, but of course control wants to hedge their bets and let those people roam free on the hope that they can make more connections and take down others as well. The sake of a few for the good of many. She's not sure how she feels about that.

Keeping her footsteps light, Abby follows the target around another corner. It's deserted, other than the man himself, and Abby drops back behind some crates on instinct. A second later, Peter looks back in the direction he came from. Satisfied, he turns back to the dirt road in front of him. Abby breathes a sigh of relief.

They're in a far part of the carnival– no regular person would venture this far from the festivities. She has to admit it's a good spot for a meeting. Secluded, but with a crowd close enough that one party could go back and blend in if something were to go wrong. An easy getaway.