A Dime a Dozen

A Fitting End

The girl sat out side the coffee shop, sipping from a cup. She seemed relaxed, resting casually in her chair, leaned back, one arm laying across her stomach, the other up and holding her cup. One foot sat on the ground, its leg supporting her other leg which was crossed over it, it's own foot gently and slowly bouncing. Her eyes glazed over the morning traffic. One might take her for any other coffee drinker, enjoying a drink peacefully in the morning traffic, but on closer inspection, one would notice that the peace in her eyes was not one of calm, but resignation. Her lips were not set in neutral, but had a slight hardness and downturn that matched the subtle resignation in her eyes.

A man in a dark coat walked out of the parking garage across the street and began to walk towards her. He only paused to wait for the signal to cross at the cross walk. His pace was calm and untroubled, but his eyes were set, only leaving the girl to glace around up at the sky. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, hiding his white knuckled fists from the others on the street.

If the girl had noticed him, she didn't let on. She continued to watch the morning traffic with glazed resigned eyes. A breeze comes by, ruffling her hair. Her resting hand comes up to tuck it back behind her ears.

The man reaches her table and stands at her side. She continues to sip her coffee.

"Lovely morning," the man comments.

The girl once more remains silent.

The man walks to the opposite side of the table and sits in the empty chair, blocking her view of the street. It takes a second, but her eyes focus on him.She finally straightens up, setting her coffee down on the table, resting her arms on the table around it, intertwining her fingers. She studies him for a minute, then tilts her head to the left. "What took you so long?"

The man crosses his arms. "Why did you lie?"

"I didn't lie."

"You had nothing to do with the events that transpired in half the locations you tipped us off to."

She girl is silent for a second before she exhales a small chuckle, closing her eyes and smiling. "Is that right?"

"What I can't figure out is why?"

She opens her eyes again. "I told you, I didn't lie to you."

"Hong Kong, April 2000. You weren't there. At the time you were in London. The kills were too close together on the time line for you to have done both. Los Angeles, December 2001. Completely different M.O. You expect me to believe that someone as precise as you just decided to change everything about how you operate for one instance then go back to normal? Britain, July 2002. You were playing mental patient in Georgia at the time. Shall I continue?" The man challenges, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow.

The girl nods. "Fair enough. How many am I going to be charged with?"

The man watches her for a second be fore replying. "Thirty-three."

"Capital punishment, I presume?"

"Surprisingly not. They want to put you in maximum lock up and study you, with your permission of course."

The girl frowns slightly, looking down at the table. "And if I say no?"

"There's at least three agencies that have good chances of getting custody of you. They want to see if they can actually reach those above you."

The girl continues to study the table. She slowly lifts her head to the sky. "And if I were to tell you I'm armed?"

"That wasn't the deal."

She lowers her head to look at the man. "How long before your men pick me off, hm? Once I draw? Or will I actually have to take someone out first?"

The man shakes his head, looking at her incredulously. "Why? You purposely point us all the way to you, lie to us about just how many incidents you were involved in, and arrange a white flag meeting to turn yourself in, only to go down in a blaze of bullets?"