Conspiracy

"All agents report status on pick up site locations; report suspicious behavior in sector, and suspected counter measures if any. Ack"

I flicked the note out of my hands with a small measure of disgust, down into a oil soaked mud puddle beneath my feet. Suspected counter measures? The entire city conglomerate had become such a cluster-fuck that Division One had us agents pursuing ghosts from the "war that never happened". In short, I was stuck doing bullshit work, on a bullshit detail.

"Agent two two zero report in, sector bravo. No targets identified, out."

My mesmerizer glimmered with a small green light, indicating that some key-masher up at Division had received my notification. Whoever it was probably had their head wrapped around a glow-box, not even paying attention to field agents reporting in. Such was the perspective of the time.

I was taught in the old ways of field work. No high speed devices, no target location satellites or meta data analysis. Was I ever issued a data collection node? Of course. Do I care to know every intra-net access of my targets? Why would I even bother when every target spills their guts when they're staring down the wrong side of a standard issue departmental pistol? I'm speaking figuratively, not literally. I digress...

I was standing outside my favorite noodle shop, underneath the incessant and delirious glow of the neon lights that hugged the street like sickened eels. The slick dark glass across from me highlighted my gaunt, handsome face; my brown hair was shaven close at the sides of my head and combed over where it grew long on the top. I smiled an easy smile at myself as I noticed how well I blended in as a civilian. My street clothes were much different than my defense force fatigues. My gaudy attire of a dark jacket, somewhat faded jeans, and dark black combat boots fit right in with the style of the time. As I checked myself out in the window,I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye.

"Agent two two zero, in pursuit of likely non-conformer. Moving southwest from last known ping".

I looked down at my wrist display to check the time for my report that was probably going to be written here very shortly. The time read ten seconds to midnight. Fuck.
 
I didn't even bother to stop and wait for an acknowledgement. The "fantastic females" group who perform their midnight dance for the glow-box worshipers had probably just popped up on screen, and I wasn't likely to get any support from Divison for a while.

I stepped down off the curb and made my way towards a darkened alley. The smell of the city streets changed in accordance with the different niche's dispersed across the landscape, probably in the exact opposite way that it naturally occurred in nature I supposed. For instance, if you were walking through the woods and you passed the mouth of the cave, you might be met with the smell of moss, stagnant water, or more interestingly, the smell of some animal who made the cave it's home. Here in the city, small holes or alcoves were home to degenerates, drug users and thieves. They pervaded the small spaces and made everything reek with decay, with filth. But what the fuck did I know, there were no naturally occurring green areas on the planet when I was born. I had only heard stories.

As I was musing about all the things I had never experienced before, a very beautiful woman stumbled into me on purpose.

"Check your right pocket. Follow me in 30 seconds". She said, her ice-blue eyes burning into me like a rocket fuel pod bursting through the atmosphere into space.
I watched her blonde hair twinkle and shimmer in the neon light as she winked at me and walked into the darkness of the alleyway.

I had been led into ambushes before. Both during ground engagements with the defense force, and while committing to field work with the agency. It's never nice walking onto a shooting range where people are shooting from both ends. I always ended that pretty quickly though, and that tended to be very bloody.
The situation before me seemed to require a little more finesse. Or quite a bit more if I was lucky. You know what? Never-mind that. I was the luckiest man alive.