After The Rain (closed)

[zydrate]

It was over. At least she hoped it was.

Nicole lay on the ground of the empty warehouse, the rain falling hard outside.

Her breathing was fast and it seemed as her adrenaline wore down, the pain in her ribs increased. There were a few cracked but thankfully, none felt broken. The gash above her right eyebrow was starting to clot...leaving a drying out trail down the side of her face.

With a groan, she rolled onto her side, her weapon never leaving her hand. As she stood, she could see Carter laying in a heap not more than a few yards from her.

She wouldn't bother checking his pulse. The double tap had been center mass, the third had gone between the eyes. Carter wasn't getting back up.

That was why they called on her.

Was she bad?

Was she good?

Hell, she didn't know... the only thing she did know was that she was done. Done with this life. It had brought her good money but she was getting tired of it. And, although she didn't want to admit it, she was getting old.

Sure, 30 years old wasn't old to some but in this line of work... she was way past retirement. Her body couldn't do it anymore and, she didn't want to do it anymore.

As she thought that, she grabbed her phone and called the only number she had memorized. Her handler.

The other end only rang for half a second.. no greeting... just Nicole saying, "I'm done."

The reply "The job is done, you mean?"

She gasped silently, as a wave of pain vibrated through the side of her head.. fucking migraine, "Yes. And so am I."

They had discussed it before. But only in jest... at least that's what he thought. No, she was done. She heard him start to say something but Nicole ended the call. She quickly opened up the phone and took out the sim card, she flicked the SIM card into the darkness and tossed the phone into the air.

Bang.

Plastic exploded into glittering pieces before it ever hit the floor.

She watched the fragments scatter.

"Guess I can still shoot."

Was all this really done? The job.. yes. Her commitment to the agency? Who knew...

*****
Nicole disappeared.

For weeks, she kept moving. Cheap motels. Anonymous apartments rented by the night.

Small diners where no one asked questions. Every morning she expected to wake to a pounding on the door. Every night she slept lightly, a pistol within reach.

But no one came.

The silence was the hardest part.

No coded messages.

No burner phones.

No handler telling her where to be next.

For the first time in over a decade, every decision belonged to her.

She wasn't very good at it.

One evening, after wandering the city with no destination in mind, the smell of buffalo sauce and grilled food drifted from an old neighborhood bar. She stopped outside, staring through the rain-speckled window longer than she cared to admit.

She wasn't meeting anyone.

She wasn't watching anyone.

She wasn't there because of a mission.

She was just... hungry.

The realization almost made her laugh.

Nicole pushed open the door, found an empty stool near the end of the bar, and after a quick assessment of the bar, sat with her back to the wall out of habit.

"Can I get you something?" the bartender asked.

She glanced at the menu for barely a second.

"Twenty hot wings," she said. "Extra hot."

"And to drink?"

For a moment she almost answered with water.

Then she remembered.

There was no mission.

No call coming.

No one waiting to send her somewhere.

"A beer."

The bartender smiled and walked away.

Nicole sat in the unfamiliar quiet, realizing this was the first meal she'd chosen for herself in years.

 

[1Beachbum25]

Anthony Miller was a 31 year old journalist who struggled to keep a job. It wasn't that he was bad at his job. Actually, he was very good at his job. The problem was that he insisted on just dealing with the facts and telling the story. He did not editorialize. He did not choose a side to slant his stories to.

He believed that it was the job of a journalist to just report, and let the viewers/ readers make up their own minds. The problem was that the media changed. Every network... every newspaper had their own viewpoint that they wanted to promote. Anthony couldn't conform to that.

That was why Anthony had decided to go out and become an independent. He would report on situations, he would write stories and then he would try to sell them to a variety of news sources locally, nationwide and internationally.

It was not the easiest way to make a living, but he had to be true to himself. He truly believed in journalistic principals that he had learned in college and was going to hold true to what he believed.

It did not allow him to live the high life, but he was able to make a decent living.

Staying true to himself often left Anthony dreaming of that one big story that would put him over the top.. make him famous... and lead to news agencies around the world clamoring for his service. Of course, it was just a dream.

Due to his modest income, Anthony did not frequent fancy bars or restaurants. If he went out, he tended to stay rather lowkey and usually would find a nice corner bar to have a couple of beers and some bar food.

Tonight he found himself sitting just inside the front door of a small bar just down the street from his apartment. It had become his go-to bar if he was sitting at home and wanted a drink. There were never a lot of people there, but there was never any drama... no fights, no arguments.... just quiet.

Normally, it was just a regular crowd. In fact, when he walked into the bar a few months prior, he was one of the last "strangers" to enter. That was, until tonight.

Anthony was sitting with his beer and a pad of paper sketching out a few ideas he had for articles to write and jotting down the sources he would need to support those articles when the door opened and a woman entered.

He did not know everyone that frequented the bar, but when a regular entered someone said something to them. When this woman entered, the few people in the bar turned to look at her, but nobody said anything.

Watching as the woman moved to the far end of the bar, Anthony wondered what would bring her in here. She sat down and Anthony saw Pete, the bartender, approach her.

While watching, Anthony started making notes about her. He wasn't sure why, but he made note of her physical features, her demeanor, and he also noted that she made sure to sit with her back to the wall. On his notes he wrote, LEO?.... Military?.... Spy (lol)?

Picking up his beer, Anthony kept watching the woman. He wasn't sure why she had captured his interest, but there was something about her.

He was careful to not stare.. at least he thought he was. If he felt her looking in his direction, he would look down at his notpad, and he wouldn't look up until he felt certain she wasn't watching him.

 

[zydrate]

Pete laughed.

"He's harmless."

Nicole shrugged and kept eating.

"They usually are."

She reached for another wing, never once looking toward Anthony, though she remained aware of him.

She didn't bother trying to be ladylike. She knew how to navigate fancy restaurants and embassy dinners because of her job. She knew which fork to use, which wine to order, and how to disappear into a room full of diplomats.

But she was just as comfortable in a quiet neighborhood bar with a basket of extra-hot wings and a cold beer.

Then she caught herself.

Was.

She wasn't on the job anymore.

Her attention returned to the food in front of her. She'd already decided the man scribbling notes from across the bar wasn't a threat.

He was just...

A guy.

Not bothering to wait for the total, Nicole pulled two crumpled twenties from her pocket and tossed them onto the bar.

"Keep the change."

She wiped her hands with a napkin, then, almost absentmindedly, wrapped it around the beer mug and slowly turned it once before setting it back on the bar.

She gave Pete a quick nod.

"Thanks."

Pulling on her jacket, she headed for the door.

 

[1Beachbum25]

He saw Pete look in his direction and then turn to the woman and say something. That told Anthony that the woman had noticed him looking in her direction.

Realizing that the woman knew he was watching her, didn't stop Anthony. He continued to take notes.... "comfortable in a bar where she knows nobody...... obviously doesn't care about what others think...... very self-confident."

Anthony stopped. "Why am I bothering? There is no story in her. Am I focusing on her because I find her attractive?"

He went back to his notepad and started looking at all of the notes he had for stories. He thought he had a few good ideas. There a couple of local stories.... a local councilwoman who apparently had some family members in no-show jobs (that needed some confirmation, the local baseball team looking for a new stadium or they were going to relocate. Local stories didn't pay much though.

There was a national story that he had a lead on from an old source. It would take a lot of work to gather the information, but if it worked out, it could pay big dividends. It had to do with an agency that was responsible for black ops and had quite a few people eliminated.

The more he thought about that story, he believed there could be an international component to it, which would lead to a mega payday.

He thought about the work it would take to get all the details and to find the right sources. It might take a year... probably longer to be able to pull it all together and write that story..... but it would be well worth it.

His train of thought was broken as he noticed the woman at the end of the bar get up, put her jacket on and start heading for the door. He watched her closely; once again noticing her confident demeanor. There was something about her that captivated him... actually there was a lot about her that captivated him.

As she approached the door, he looked right at her and said, "Have a great rest of your night."

 

[zydrate]

"Have a great rest of your night."

Nicole paused with one hand on the door.

She looked at him for the first time that evening.

"You too."

With that, she left the bar and headed home.

Once home, Nicole entered her empty apartment.

Well, it wasn't exactly empty. It was just, person empty.

She had the basics, a couch, coffee table, a TV mounted on the wall... a small round dining table with two chairs.

The things probably missing? Pictures, wall decorations... maybe a small plant for the dining table...?

But none of that bugged her as she entered, quickly surveying the small hall, stopping and listening for... for what? Nicole sighed as she closed and locked the door behind her. She set her keys on the keyring by the door and hung her jacket on the hook in the hall.

She had no weapon on her. Usual for her. She had felt naked without it for the first few days when she got this place but after a while, she decided it was best to not carry any weapon on her.

Her night ended like most had these past few times, showering and getting ready for bed. Reading a book she had found in the little library in the lobby of her apartment buidling.

Tonight, as she was reading, her mind wandered back to the man in the bar. She smiled faintly as she pictured him thinking he was being sneaky after stealing glaces in her direction and writing something in his notebook. She wasn't sure why she was thinking of him. She had only sized him up like she did anyone else.

Was he a threat? No.

At least she didn't think he was. He didn't appear physically threatening but yet, neither did she.

No, no, she had to get it in her head, not everyone she encountered was a threat. This was just a guy. Just like the bartender.

But he had said to have a great rest of her night. It wasn't flirty, just a genuine suggestion.

Had she had a great rest of her night?

In her mind... yes, she did...? She got home in one piece. No one tried to kill her on the way home. Day by day, she was starting to relax...kinda, and shaking the feeling that she was being followed.. a hazard of her previous job, sure...

And she was truthful in her response of 'you too.'

 

[1Beachbum25]

Anthony smiled and nodded to the woman when she responded "you too."

After she left, Anthony went back to his notes. He needed to come up with a good story; something that would bring him a big payday. That would give him a cushion to work on the huge story that he had a lead on.

He had Pete pour him another beer. "one more Pete and I am finished for tonight."

Anthony went back to his notes about the upcoming mayoral election. The incumbent had been a heavy favorite early on, but the challenger was closing the gap. The challenger changed his tactics a little and was now campaigning on making things more affordable.

Affordability was an important topic, but the challenger provided no specifics. Every speech was just generalities, but the people seemed to be buying into it. Maybe he could get an interview with him and narrow things down.

Putting his pen down, Anthony shook his head. Picking up his beer, he wondered if it would even be worth it to try to interview him. Would the challenger risk it when he was cutting into the incumbent's lead.

Finishing the beer, Anthony left the money he had sitting on the bar as a tip for Pete. "Night Pete." He picked up his pad and pen and made his way home. It didn't feel like he accomplished anything tonight.

As he walked, his mind went back to the woman in the bar. There was something about her. Well, yes, first of all she was very attractive, but there was more. There was something about the way she carried herself. She had an air of confidence about her.

Walking into his apartment, she continued to be on his mind. He shook his head. "Forget about her dummy. You will never see her again, plus, she didn't even really notice you. She only spoke to you because you told her to have a good night. She was just being polite."

Anthony undressed and got into the shower. After being in the bar, he always felt the need to shower; not that it was dirty or scummy, but it was just a habit he got into.

While in the shower, his mind went back and forth between the woman and what story he needed to focus on. He tried to forget about her, because the story was important. Yet, she had him captivated.

After the shower, he went to his desk and looked at his notes. He crumpled up the paper, and tossed it in the trash. "Start over and find the story. You know you can make it work."

He sat for a moment, and came up with nothing new. In frustration, he threw his pen down and walked over to the sofa and put on the television. Flicking through the channels, he stopped at a movie that followed a CIA operative working in a Middle Eastern country in an attempt to kill the country's military leader.

Anthony watched for a while. "Why couldn't I get my hands on a story like that? Interview someone who led that kind of life. That would be a career-making story."

 

[zydrate]

The next morning came without alarms.

Nicole opened her eyes and simply lay there for a moment.

No briefing.

No flight to catch.

No encrypted messages.

Just sunlight slipping through the gap in the curtains.

It still felt... strange.

After showering, she wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

Eggs.

Butter.

Half a carton of milk.

Tea.

She frowned.

"I really do need groceries."

A few minutes later a saucepan sat on the stove, water coming to a gentle boil. She dropped in a packet of ramen before carefully lowering an egg into a second pot.

Completely unnecessary.

Which was exactly why she liked it.

While breakfast cooked, Sarah Brightman's voice drifted softly through the apartment from a small speaker resting on the bookshelf.

Nicole found herself standing at the counter, mug of tea warming her hands, simply listening.

No destination.

No deadline.

No mission.

She wasn't entirely sure what people normally did with mornings like this.

After breakfast she washed her dishes immediately, dried them, and placed them back into the cupboard.

One bowl.

One mug.

One saucepan.

The apartment was beginning to feel less temporary.

She grabbed a small notepad from the counter.

Groceries.

Coffee.

A plant... maybe.

She paused, tapping the pencil against the paper.

Books.

She smiled to herself.

The apartment building had a small shelf in the lobby where tenants left books they'd finished. The novel she'd picked up a few days ago had nearly reached its end.

Maybe she'd finally visit the public library she'd driven past twice already.

A library card.

The thought made her smile more than it probably should have.

She slipped the note into her pocket and reached for her jacket.

As she locked the apartment door behind her, her eyes automatically swept the hallway before she caught herself.

Old habits.

One day at a time.

Nicole headed downstairs, grocery list in her pocket, quietly determined to learn what an ordinary Tuesday looked like.

She had a feeling she was going to enjoy finding out.

 

[1Beachbum25]

Very early the next morning, Anthony got out of bed and went to his desk. He had decided, while laying awake most of the night, that he would write the story about the baseball team possibly relocating if they did not get a new stadium. He had already done a bit of research on it, so, he was able to get started on it.

He wrote the introduction to the article. He included some information that he was able to get from a couple of sources inside the city government.... friends of his that fed him information that others did not have access to.

Anthony used that information to tease the readers.... motivating them to read further.

Once he had the opening of the article written, it was late enough to start making phone calls to try to get information from team representatives and to try to get city officials to go on record about their feelings on the way negotiations with the team were going.

Team officials were willing to talk in vague terms about how things were going. City officials were not willing to go on record... yet.

Feeling good about where the article was going and how it was progressing, Anthony decided to go for a run.

Heading out, he started toward the park. Running through there now would be good, because it would not be crowded, yet. If he went through the park on the return part of his run, it would be packed with people on their lunch break.

With his earbuds in, and the music playing, Anthony was enjoying his run. He felt good about the article, and the run had him feeling even more energized.

After leaving the park, he made his way through city street; dodging pedestrians, bikers, and cars.

As he turned up another street, Anthony noticed a woman carrying a couple bags of groceries. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place where from.

As he got closer, he realized it was the woman from the bar the other night. He smiled at her as he approached. Then, he stopped a couple steps in front of her. "Hi. Can I help you with your bags."