The Rose of Flames: Rising Tides

Chapter 5

August 6th, 2047

12:30 P.M.

Switzerland

The cowboy followed behind the hooded figure he'd seen just now; they were following some Overshadow agents, and he wanted to know why. He took note of their odd appearance: about 5'7", pale-skinned, and rather calm. He noticed the torn black gloves and the rather unkempt state of her clothes and guessed that they might be homeless or a beggar.

Ugh, they don't need someone in that state following them, he thought as he tailed the four, able to hear the agents talking but not quite able to make out what they were saying. He tilted his black cowboy hat quietly, his right hand hovering near his hip where his Peacekeeper revolver sat waiting in its holster. Better keep an eye on this one.

Continuing to follow behind, the cowboy sighed, not wanting to deal with this. His black outfit was better for the night and he stuck out like a sore thumb in this crowd, as did the hooded figure that he was watching. They seemed to be shifting their head from side to side as if looking around at the city but must have been checking for if someone was following them. The cowboy blinked. What the...Do they have experience with counter-surveillance tactics? He wondered, spotting the figure's face turn over their shoulder. There was no way that they didn't see him, especially with how their jaw clenched and their face turned around once more, evidently keeping an eye on the Overshadow agents.

Stunned, the cowboy decided he needed to confront this conspicuous intruder, but not yet; he'd do it when they were alone. He resumed following them, surprised to hear a female's voice come from the figure in front of him. "You need to get better at being a tail. Now leave me alone. I won't hurt them. I just wanted to hear something."

Amazed, the cowboy responded, "that isn't much better, you know. Why are you following them? What are you trying to hear?"

The figure shrugged and kept walking, the cowboy following her. "Arthur Belgard. He died, no?"

The cowboy blinked, shocked that this intruder would know about that. "Yeah. Why?"

A gentle chuckle reached his ears. "I found a little something about that in Thorn's files. Said his wife killed him," she informed the astonished outlaw, who gaped behind her. "I assume you're about to ask how I got into Thorn's files?"

"Y-Yeah," he said, his cowboy accent slipping out. "You going to tell me or are you going to leave me hanging?"

A small laugh came from the figure. "Let's just say I have training in skills that Overshadow doesn't have, either entirely or to some extent. Thorn probably knows I'm not with Overshadow, so they don't suspect you, I believe."

The cowboy blinked as he saw her look over her left shoulder and smile at him, a long scar running down her pale left cheek. "Now, mind telling me your name?"

-=#(+)#=-

Catherine watched as the cowboy in front of her gawked at her, either in shock about either her question and the info she'd supplied, her face, or both. It amused her greatly to see that she'd surprised him. "Why do you need to know?" he asked after a pause.

She shrugged, now paying full attention to the black-garbed cowboy. "I'm curious, and I don't like to refer to someone if I don't know their name," Catherine told him, a hand in her pocket and the other at her side, brushing the holster hidden beneath her sweatshirt; she'd seen the cowboy's hand near his revolver and decided it was best to play it safe.

Not realizing what was beneath her garbs, her tail sighed. "The name's Creon. James Creon," he stated, tipping his hat. "You are?"

"Sorry," she said quickly, "but unlike you, I'm not always comfortable with giving out my name," she told him. James opened his mouth to speak, but Catherine beat him to it. "You can call me C, though."