BLEUDARK

A.A.D.A.A.M.

"I do not wish to be a coward like the father of mankind and throw the blame upon a woman."― Ouida, Wanda

DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT- WASHINGTON D.C.

The 747 touched down a little after three in the afternoon. It had been a particularly turbulent flight for Ms. Allen, not in the literal sense but emotionally. She was only a week removed from seeing an entire foreign police force get gunned down and the best and worst thing in her life get swept away, the man she thought to be the love of her life taken out by an assassin's bullet.

An annoying stewardess that took her job way too seriously prodded Dia to remove her headphones. She did so begrudgingly whilst getting all of her other belongings together.

She had been expecting to get called back to D.C. after the incident but not this soon. It seemed like every national police agency in Spain wanted to question her on the accounts of that day. Her answers were still the same as the day she showed up at the scene; she still didn't know what the hell killed all those people or who the masked vigilante was that gunned down forty-seven well trained officers and civilians.

Even Inspector Anibol Sanz and his partner had fallen victim to the masked assailant, dying later from what initially seemed to be superficial wounds. She had been hoping to get someone to give some testimony on what had transpired that day but every professional law enforcement personnel that was in the square that day died in the line of duty. The only people that could corroborate Dia's story were a few CSI experts and spectators but most of them took off and ran for cover when the first shots rang out.

Dia disembarked the plane. After she cleared customs, there was a man holding a sign with her name on it in the greeting area. Did Livebriik have a god damn doppelganger? Surely God couldn't be this cruel. The man had warm eyes, an athletic build and curly blonde hair. She walked up to him mimicking his warm grin. "Hi, I'm Ric. Ric White," he said.

"Hello Ric."

"The lady, the myth, the legend, Ms. Dia Allen. It is so good to finally meet you. I've been trying for damn near two years to live up to the folklore that you left behind. And I say folklore because they are such tall tales. Are any of them true?

"It depends on which stories and your definition of truth."

"Well one story goes that a superior officer, not to be named, had an issue with lets say hygiene and you took it upon yourself to show this person the error of their filthy ways. The story goes that you came into the building that nigh and filled this persons office with a thousand or so of those pine tree shaped car air-fresheners, along with a can of deodorant and typed instructions on how to use it."

"I'm sorry sir but I cannot confirm nor deny my involvement in that endeavor," beamed Dia. "Well Ric it is finally nice to put a face with the voice after our conversations over the past couple of days."

"Same here, even though I would be disappointed to say the least if you hadn't done your research yet to have seen what I looked like."

"Ok, you got me. I knew what you looked like long before I got to D.C..

"I knew it," he chuckled.

They walked out of the airport and up toa blacked-out SUV that was sitting on the curb in a no-parking zone. Ric grabbed Dia's bags and put them in the back and they both jumped in. They pulled of into the busy mid-day traffic.

"A rule breaker I see."

"I prefer rule circumventor. Don't you think that the people that make the rules and put their lives on the line day in and day out should be able to sidestep them every now and again? It's just one of the perks of being law enforcement, you know what I mean? Being able to park wherever the hell you want should be inherent to the job don't you think?"