Broken

I

Thursday. 06:15. New York, NY.

As New York stirred into wakefulness, rousing itself from under a blanket of snow, a man and a woman met on the corner of 96th and Lexington. There was nothing particularly interesting about the pair, which comprised a woman and a man.

They stood close to each other in the darkness, just beyond the periphery of a flickering lamp post. In the shadow of winter, all that could be discerned of the pair, was that the man was on the wrong side of forty. His companion was young enough to be his daughter. They both wore monochrome coats (his the colour of damp coal and hers a pale, visceral white) their collars raised against the brittle breeze, hands deep inside their pockets.

The few commuters that had braved the bitter sting of frostbitten air were more interested in getting to their destinations: work, home. Their heads were lowered against the chill, and the only times they lifted their eyes were toward the swollen snow clouds that scudded ominously over the jagged Manhattan skyline.

If they'd spared a glance at the two strangers congregating outside Starbucks, they'd have noticed that there was nothing normal about the meeting, after all. There was a tangible distance between the pair, despite their physical proximity to each other. This was conveyed by their flat and almost mechanical conversation.

The man was alert and on edge as he said to the woman, "there were no complications?"

"My flight from DC was uneventful," was the woman's response. She had startling cerulean eyes that darted about as she spoke. They took in every detail of her surroundings, before returning to her company. "But I'd rather skip the pleasantries if you don't mind."

"As you wish." He looked relieved, hand moving to the inside of his coat. He withdrew an envelope, glancing about him as he handed it to her. "The details of your assignment are all here. Head for Park. You can familiarise yourself with the particulars on the way."

As he held out the envelope, he asked sharply, "do you have any questions?"

"None." She accepted the proffered envelope and dropped it into her leather tote. She shifted the bag on her slender shoulder, before returning her gloved hands to be pockets.

"You know how to reach me, then. Good luck, Agent Drew." With that, the man wheeled about and disappeared into the crowd of pedestrians waiting for the walking green. It was almost like he'd never been there. Even as he strode away, a faint wind erased his footprints from the snow.

For the first time in 24 hours, Agent Nancy Drew was alone. She took several deep, steadying breaths in the wake of his abrupt departure, as she attempted to compose herself.

Coffee. That was a good start. She entered the shop and ordered a beverage. Then, cradling the cardboard cup, she returned to the street. Taking tentative sips from her drink, her strange eyes searched for the electric yellow cabs that crawl by the curbs of New York City.

It did not take her long to find a ride. A cabbie quickly noticed the attractive titian haired individual and pulled alongside her shivering form. He noticed that while the city rushed, she stood stationary despite the blistering conditions. She was an ivory silhouette in her pale wool coat, standing still against the silent snow.

"Where to today?" He asked as she stepped into the warmth and established herself on the back seat.

"Park, please. Let me just find the address."

She crossed long, slim legs and rearranged her coat to cover them, then busied herself opening her envelope. Her eyes moved rapidly as she read the single page of typed notes, then she examined the glossy photograph that had come with it. Closing the page in her fist, she directed the driver to a hotel in East Harlem, that advertised 4 hour stays for $65.