Anya knew what to expect.
...kinda.
Okay, not at all.
When the director said she was going to a club where several crime families were meeting up, she didn't really know that meant.
She imagined a club house in a tree, thinking it'd have to be pretty big to fit that many people.
This was starkly different.
She thought, as they descended a staircase leading below ground level. A man stood guard at a door.
He raised an eyebrow at the kid standing beside Fisher, receiving an icy stare from the agent in response.
He asked for a password.
She gave it.
They entered a world new to Anya, who curiously absorbed it all.
Jazz played in the background, yellow lights strung on the walls. Low tables set up in front of cushy benches to lounge on. People were dressed in fancy clothes, drinking and laughing.
So many people.
It hit Anya like a brick.
She hadn't read anyone's minds in a little over two weeks. Static and garbled nonsense every time she tried. But now they were crowding for attention. Loud and obnoxious. Ever present and swarming.
Their faces were calm, and smiling so perfectly. Talking peaceably and stoically, their thoughts suspicious and sneaky. Speaking friendly to people they did not trust.
Agent Fisher moved among them with ease. Smiled pleasantly to people she passed as if she knew them.
A smile Anya hadn't ever seen in her life. Anya didn't know the agent could smile.
Fisher had never looked so refined. Walking confidently. Slowly. Appraisingly. As if this was her life.
She demanded respect with every step she took.
"Ferrah!" A woman's voice called happily in their direction. Her red dress swishing about her legs. Wavy blonde hair pinned in braids about her head. Her hands held out as she approached.
The client.
"Kiara." Agent Fisher cooed back, accepting her hug, like two best friends who hadn't met in a while.
"It's good to see you, dear." Kiara feigned.
"It's been a while." 'Ferrah' agreed.
They chatted for a couple of minutes to keep up pretences, before Kiara claimed she had other guests to tend to.
Fisher nodded at Anya to start gleaning information.
For the next two hours, Anya paid close attention to who Kiara spoke to. Listened to their thoughts. Who would betray her. Who were her friends. Schemes against her family or syndicate.
She was one of the most influential people in the underworld, and as such, had many enemies.
Enter Anya.
Mere child's play for an esper who could easily weed out her foes.
Literally.
So Anya did her job and found them.
Kai was pleased.
He left Noah alone.
The dye rinsed out after a wash.
A week later, there was another job.
An event for political families to meet other political families.
Her job was very similar to the last. But on a larger scale.
This was not just within Ostania. Politicians from other countries came together to speak to one another. Preserve peace. Keep alliances.
Essentially, Anya was here to destroy them. Or more specifically, seek out the secret plots already in motion that would betray their alliances.
It may not be the underworld, but people were still people.
Agent Fisher's fake identity was a diplomat representative from a foreign country. Anya, her daughter. Hair dyed once more.
Anya did as she was asked.
And again when a couple days later, the director brought in a dead body.
—————————
Nothing.
No records. No name. No clues whatsoever.
Loid had checked in with every single hospital and mental institution he could find over the past three weeks.
None of them had heard of a girl named Anya with pink hair, green eyes, and horns.
Loid was at a loss. If her clothes weren't hospital clothes, or pyjamas than what were they? The boy said they were a little different, but he didn't know what that was supposed to mean.
He considered trying to talk to him again, but he knew Sam had given him everything he had on the subject. He'd be running in circles.
It frustrated him to no end that this was all he had to go on.
He let out a growl of a sigh, plopping down on the couch. A list of crossed out hospital names tossed on the table. He went over what he knew, listing things off in his head:
She was found hiding from bad guys. Who though?
Wearing hospital-like clothes that weren't hospital clothes. He'd double checked
She didn't appear hurt or sick.
She was dirty and scared.
She was specifically targeted at her school and kidnapped with no trace left behind.
And he suspected Anya knew what was going on leading up to the kidnapping.
Loid ruminated, rubbing at his temples, turning it all over and over again. His thoughts starting to beat to the ticking of the clock.
Scared. Hiding. Her clothes. Not sick. Aware. Kidnapped.
Again. . .
And again. . .
And again. . .
And again. . .
Until it finally hit him.
The clothes. Scared. Hiding.
Horrified, his head snapped up, eyes wide.
"No....." He breathed. A long shot he hoped couldn't possibly be true.
Loid shot away from the couch, snatching up the phone.
—————-
He'd had trouble pinning someone down before, but not like this. Not since the last time he went looking for 'Susan Hopkins'.
He interviewed anyone he found who came in contact with her past identity 'Lucy Fig'. The fancy woman, who wore fancy clothes. Her glasses more a fashion choice than a necessity.
Everyone he interviewed seemed to know something about her. "Grew up just North of here", "Inherited her families wealth", and "Moved back from abroad."
Yuri already knew these things. Had followed this case until she disappeared to the wind, never to be seen again. Until the kidnapping.
He interviewed anyone related to Sarah Hopkins the nurse. Similar assurance in the people who thought they knew her. She seemed like an open book.
This lady's ability to fully immerse herself in a role so convincingly, enabled her to evade any suspicion that might be thrown her way.
Resulting in futile interrogations.
But after three weeks. Three weeks! He found traces of a fake identity left behind. Followed them dutifully, until he found a thread he could pull on.
He relentlessly followed any crumb, any speck he could get his hands on.
She was nearly impossible to track down, but he'd done it.
He stood proudly outside a large building where he'd tagged her to be. A few towns over from home.
He tugged at his sleeves. Straightened his tie. A self-satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Signalled to his team.
'For you, sis. Here goes nothing.'