J. Edgar Hoover Building (Years ago)
It's eleven pm in DC, one of the few busiest cities in America. I sat on my chair while the encryption network goes through the security programming on the tablet I managed to recover from the apartment. If I shift my attention to Suleiman the terrorists might have gotten away scot-free. Part of me believed that Suleiman Abbasid wasn't behind all this, but the second part of me believed the opposite. "Hey, I heard that you nearly got blown sky-high." said Amir, who is staying late for his own case. "Sorry man."
"I have military experience, it's really lucky that I wasn't blown to kingdom come." I say. "How's your case?"
"Uh... don't mention that." he said with a shrug. "I'm still tracking down the target."
"You're reassigned after the case?"
"More like put to a halt." Amir explained.
"Really?" I asked, turning in my swivel chair.
"Yeah, Ryan put me off once I went through the shipping manifest. It's up to you to track whoever this guy is down."
"Once the decryption is complete, you can bet that I'm going to." I say. "And there we go." I added after hearing a beep from the program.
"I've gotta go home. Nice talking to you Isa." he said. I smiled and waved at him. Amir is new to the game of counterintelligence, having joined the agency a few months ago, and as both a Special Agent and a soon-to-be husband. He's a Pakistani-American, a friendly one to everybody's relief. One of his not-so-secret job here is being an IT analyst for us if he wasn't that pre-occupied with cases of his own. I know it's already late and I have to do my work. But his tablet yielded little results when I looked into his files, which to my dismay, wasn't his work tablet. Dropping off the tablet in a clear evidence bag I sealed it and locked it in my drawer for safekeeping and packed up my things.
My handphone rang once I took the elevator down to the parking garage. The number is from the United States, I answered the call despite not knowing who the caller is. The call connected and the voice of a woman, drunk at best, is on the other side. "Is this Wayne Manor?" she asked, in a giggle, but it set me on fire. Enraged I disconnected the call and gunned the engine to life.
"Socialites and their prank calls." I muttered to myself. Either she has Bruce's phone or she found out my number and called me, to try and maybe warn me off. Before I could leave another call buzzed and to my relief, it's from the UK, the London area to be specific. "Uncle Roland." I say, switching the call to my earpiece.
"I tried to call you just now."
"Hmm... the harassment call got to you first."
"What harassment call?"
"One of his... lady friends, I think." I said with a sigh.
"Who would want to harass Lady Isabella, of all places?"
"Let's just put that thing out of the way first." I say. "Why would you call?"
New York City (The next day)
A sedan stopped at the entrance of a hotel and the porter opened the door. I gave the man a smile before stepping out of the sedan and he closed back the door of the sedan. Climbing the steps I entered the building and took the elevator to the top floor where the private party is being held. The party is hosted by the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and also my godmother, Madeline Gray, hosted in private to meet with her family members staying here and friends alike. Uncle Roland is also present, for an unknown reason. Stepping onto the terrace where the party was held I saw a lot of familiar faces, including James Collins, whom I last saw during my military career. Not to my surprise as due to the nationality and purpose of the party most of the guests hail from the United Kingdom. "Isabella!" a voice called out to me. "It's so nice to see you here." the voice belonged to Helen Wentworth, a close friend of mine as well during my stay in the United Kingdom with my mother.
"Helen!" I greeted with a smile. "It's so nice to see you here."
"I'm so sorry about your mother Isabella." she said. "James told me what happened."
"It's okay Helen." I say. "It's okay."
"Hello ladies." the man himself approached.
"James." Helen smiled. "Quite odd, due to the fact that you don't enjoy coming to parties like this."
"I represent my father." he said. "Well... according to him, it's time." the two of us laughed. Helen and I shared the same tutor, Alice Montgomery, hence our friendship. She took out her folding fan and held it in her hand.
"You still have your own fan right?" she asked. I removed an ivory white folding fan from my purse and showed it to her. "If not for your nationality I would've taken you to be British by birth." she said with a sigh.
"How's your father?" I asked. "I hope that he is well."
"My father is well, thank you for asking. Oh, and, my father also wished the same thing to you along with his condolences upon your mother's passing."
"Since when did the prime minister invited Americans to the party?" James murmured. Confused we turned and saw more guests entering the party scene. Most men came with ladies in their arms, which we frowned inward.
"I told you, you're very different." Helen remarked, unfolding her fan to shield herself from the view. I smiled and held my fan unopened in my hands.
"I'd rather join the tea party." James said. He walked off while we giggled in reply.
"You have friends here?" she asked.
"No, not much." I say. I saw Bruce standing at the steps, staring at me with yet another socialite in his arms. "Helen, can we walk around first?"
"Thank God, I hoped you asked." she says. "Shall we, Lady Isabella?" she asked. We giggled again and moved away from the scene. As we walked past the guests the ones hailing from Britain greeted me in the title of Lady Isabella. The four years I spent in Britain are mostly attending social events with my mom besides studying while she on the other hand, is also well respected in the English high society. People called her Lady Alice. "Marvelous display isn't it?"
"Overlooking the river." I say, hiding my smile behind my fan. "Dinner party."
"Finger food?" James popped out of nowhere, nearly causing Helen to drop her fan.
"Oi." she glared at him.
"Apologizes, may I borrow Lady Isabella for a while?" my uncle's voice cut through our small circle. James and Helen shrugged and my uncle nodded at me to go for a more private place for a conversation. "Did you see him?" he asked. I nodded and folded the fan back. "Vladimir asked me to pass you this message : SV is hiding in Paris, I will call when the time is ready." I nodded in reply.
YOU ARE READING
Russian Roulette
Misterio / Suspenso"This is a crossroad Isabella." he said. "There will be no return if you were captured." "Can I even turn back?" I asked.
