The Most Dangerous Woman

      She was the world's most dangerous woman. Wonderfully, nothing of her apperance held with the sensual physicality of many femme fatales. She was a true mistress of cameflage, easy to miss, and easy to forget. She had no need of those poisons that must be administered to allow for memories of her to disappear. No, she had such a quiet apperance that it was so marvelously easy to miss her even if she were standing alone in a black room wearing white. She had certainly worked hard to become this way, never being documented in any way on a social networking website, always being homeschooled by herself as to avoid documentation or photographed. She had gone unnoticed under the eyes of the pointiest noses of eldery female neighbors when silently slipping outside to fetch the Sunday post. Only a few persons with incredible detection skills had ever caught a glimpse of her, and 7 out of those 10 were now sleeping eternally in marble coffins six feet underneath the Earth's soft brown body.

         She herself went by so many names, in fact,  that she only remembered a name for as long as she used it, afterwards disposing of it from her memory like Christmas trees to the curb. A one-night stand had known her as Mary. The credit card service she used mailed to her as one 'Jane Doe'. No matter her name, the facts were the same: she could cause the demise of anyone, start World Wars Three and Four, purge or surge a nation's economy, make  car crash look like a terrorist attack and so forth. She only needed the whim and the mood. Money had whatsoever nothing to do with it.

         On this particular day, at this particular moment, she was standing at the corner of a small cafe in New York. She didn't live in New York. She wasn't a member of any nation, having been born on international waters near Antartica to a couple who had been recently deported with nowhere to go. But she was so marvelous at being undetected by anyone, it simply didn't matter. She was sipping at a cup of hot chamomile and delicately, quietly eating a slice of carrot cake. Her head was covered by a simple hat and her face by a knit scarf. She wore sunglasses over her eyes  that seemed pitch black to someone looking on, however she could see clearer than if she had them off. Her eyes flickered up to a clock every once in a while, waiting for the clock to strike the proper time. Eating very slowly and reading that morning's newspaper, she ensured that she erased all suspicious behavior. After all, she had been there for an hour. Her eyes flickered to the time on the wall again. Exactly one minute ago, a very important decision was made in a very important world organization regarding a very important decision whether or not to bomb a certain city or start a certain war. 

Everything she did was out of her empathetic knowledge and fierce opinions. Imagine her how you will, but everything she does will effect you and everyone you ever meet.

Within two hours, a strain of virus she had planted would leak into the water suppliers. It would effect only men with ultraviolent tendencies. The day before, a powerful mobster and terrorist leader had died of natural causes after being served dinner by a forgettable woman. Several years prior, several countries declared a truce. She had given them the will, impersonating their daughters, their wives, their friends, their people, until they realized that the war had been stupid. A few hours before, a powerful man had left his wife for a younger beatnik, a species of fish had gone extinct. All seemingly entirely unconnected, all miniscule and major alike. 

Call her a spy. A traitor. A witch or a  vixen. But never a terrorist. The one thing of which she was most proud was her complete lack of terrorism. She had started small tribal wars in Africa, completely deprived a political official of his identity so that even his own wife no longer knew him. But she was not a terrorist. A terrorist is someone who seeks to terrify others, often such attacks are seen as desperate. She knew the fate of the world. She didn't care. Everything she did was out of whim and spur-of-the-moment. And that made her dangerous.

You can't tell where she will be, who she will be with, or what she will look like. She is the world's most dangerous woman. And you will never know who she is.