The Soldier flipped open her silver compact, checking her lipstick before shutting it and dropping it into her black clutch. She knew she looked like something straight out of a 1940's makeup advertisement. Her huge sunglasses shielded her lightly shadowed eyes from the glaring noon sun, and her raspberry-red lips popped against her powdered skin. The powder covered the burn on her cheekbone, as well as the matching one on her forehead. Her hair was perfectly crimped and pinned to the side, her white streak dyed.
Her dress, however, was modern. A classic black sleeveless sheath that stopped right above her knees. Her heels were chunky little pumps with a bow, to give her a girlish spin. She sashayed forward to the door of the little cafe, Pierre Chocolaterie. The Soldier held her head high and ignored the way the buzz of conversation in the cafe lulled. And the soft catcalls. And the whistling. She marched through the cafe to the little courtyard, eyeing her target in the corner, right outside of the security camera's vision.
She'd been here for two days, following the man around to see his routine. The Soldier would have preferred to have a few days more, but she hadn't had a choice. She started approaching the man.
Henri Malevet. A Sokovian council member. Now retired, due to the fact that he didn't have a dumpster fire of a country to rule over. He was a little man, broad in the shoulders with a graying mane of auburn hair. He wore a neat blue suit, and looked as if he was on his way to a meeting. Too bad he was never going to get there, it looked important. He sat at a table for two, but didn't seem to be waiting for anyone.
The Soldier smiled and stepped lightly over to the councilman. His eyes lingered over her for a moment, and he smiled broadly, "Well, hello, darling. Just who might you be?"
The Soldier giggled and took in more minor details. He had a ring on his finger. She'd have to notify her handlers of that fact. "I'm Rebecca. I saw you and I thought, ooh, he's an important man. He must be soo interesting!" She chortled again, touching her lips with her free hand. It was amazing how many men fell for the bimbo act.
"Hello, Rebecca. Would you like to join me for lunch? I find myself needing company," he motioned to the empty chair.
The Soldier sighed dreamily, looking over her sunglasses at him, "You're such a gentleman! I bet the girls are all over you!"
He chuckled, "Nope. My job doesn't allow for that sort of thing."
She gaped in false surprise, "Truly? I can't believe that, a handsome man like you... What do you do?"
Really, Malevet wasn't that bad looking. He was just old and short. And of course, she already knew what he was doing for a living. He was one of Anthony Stark's lawyers, due to his previous experience in law he was hired by Stark after Stark blew Sokovia sky high. Malevet wasn't even that good and lost almost 29% of his cases.
Malevet leaned forward, and she did too. "I work for Tony Stark. Therefore, all the girls go to him, unfortunately." He leaned back with a sigh.
The Soldier smiled and leaned her chin on her palm, "Tony Stark! You must be a very rich man too..." She let her eyes trail from his watch to his tie pin. With him distracted she unclipped her clutch and felt around for the pill and the ball.
Malevet sipped his tea, then folded his hands over his paunch, "I suppose I am, in some respects."
The Soldier laughed, "How so?" She leaned down as if to straighten her bow. She scanned her surroundings and found a young waitress who looked unsure of herself. She calculated the angles, then let the ball roll toward the unsuspecting girl.
She straightened up as Malevet said, "And I have a house in England, although I rarely visit it." She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her lips, slipping the pill in her mouth. That's where his family must be. England.
She nodded, holding the pill in between her front teeth, as if she'd been listening and looked behind him to the waitress. The Soldier saw it happen perfectly. The waitress, looking at the tables and obviously trying to remember who she was waiting on, stepped on the ball and, plates and all, went down on the floor with a great clatter.
The Soldier exclaimed, "Oh!" Trying to keep the pill between her teeth.
Malevet twisted to see the commotion, and while everyone was distracted by the humiliated girl, the Soldier grabbed his cup, bit the capsule in half, and let it fall into his tea. She set it down as Malevet turned back toward her.
"Is the poor girl all right?" The Soldier asked. The special gel capsule would dissolve in one minute.
Malevet shrugged, "She seemed to be."
The Soldier took the fake phone out of her clutch and gasped, "Oh, I'm so sorry, mister, I have to go!"
Malevet looked at her hopefully, "Can we meet here later, darling?"
The Soldier smiled graciously and stood up, "How does five o'clock sound?"
"Perfect. It was nice meeting you, Rebecca," Malevet said.
The minute was over. The Soldier smiled and walked back through the courtyard and cafe. She pushed her sunglasses up and waltzed down the avenue like royalty.