Eyes

1. The Assignment

I quickly and quietly made my way down the street. Well, as quick as one can be walking through a city like this on a rainy day, and as quiet as one can be whilst surrounded by all the people and traffic and just general busy big-city noise.

And it doesn't get much busier, or as big-city as New York City during rush hour.

I walked at a reasonable pace, matching those of the people around me. I was in a hurry, but it was extremely important that it didn't appear that way. People who look like they're in a hurry are more likely to draw attention than those who walk at a more leisurely pace. Besides, I didn't have a deadline, which was just as well. At my current speed, I wouldn't have made it.

But the busyness and congestion which was the ground of New York City was also a blessing. People are so busy, they don't notice you.

And why would they notice me? I was just another girl, another face in the crowd. Neither gorgeous nor ugly, fat nor thin. Tall or short. I was perfectly neutral. Nothing special in an either good or bad way. And that just made my job a hell of a lot easier.

And though the rain wasn't great, it too helped me that little bit more.

I sighed in relief as I reached my taxi. I knew it was my taxi, because I had kept my eye on it for four blocks, and it hadn't moved. Also, the number on it was 247, which was the number of the taxi I'd been told to take.

I pulled open the door, the handle slick with rainwater, soaking my glove. I didn't care though. I was almost home free.

"Drive." I said to the driver, who wasn't really a driver, but a driver from the agency. But for the sake of this moment, we'll call him a driver.

"Did you get it then?" Asked the driver, who was younger than expected. A newbie. I don't usually see a lot of newbies. Not at my level.

"That's classified." I said in a neutral tone of voice. I wasn't trying to be a snob, it was true. I couldn't tell anyone.

"Ok, sorry." He said. I saw him roll his eyes in the rear view mirror, but I let it go. He didn't know who I was, what I'd seen, so he didn't know to give me the respect I was due. He didn't have the clearance.

"How much longer until we get there, do you think?" I asked him after a few minutes. The sooner I turned over the information, the sooner I could go home.

"About another minute." He replied.

"Thank you." I said, readying myself. As soon as the taxi stopped, I needed to be out.

The taxi slowed and stopped. I said a quick thank you to the driver, and exited the taxi swiftly.

I was in a less occupied street now, and it was far more dimly-lit.

No, that's not cliché, not at all. I thought to myself sarcastically. But then, clichés were clichés for a reason.

My heels made sounds like gunshots, echoing through the night. I kept a tight grip on my shoulder bag. To lose the information now, would be absolutely catastrophic, not to mention extremely annoying.

I walked until I found the number I was looking for; 9475B. There.

I trotted up the steps to the door, and lifted the old brass eagle knocker, and let it fall with a resounding crack. I did this twice more, and then waited.

There was movement inside the old brownstone, and then the sound of a series of locks being turned. 1,2,3,4.

The door was carefully inched open, barely, with the safety chain still in place.