Martini & Salsa

Cynthia frowned when she saw the man. She knew too well who he had to be from, but more importantly she knew that there was no point in ignoring him. Closing the door on him would only delay this little meeting she was sure.

"Come in," she said softly and let him come into her apartment. It was a small studio apartment. It was about all she could afford on her wage. Should could have gotten a bigger one in a worse part of town, but Cynthia felt she lucked out with what she had. Her work uniform was draped over a chair and the TV was atop a book shelf. The current program seem to be a PBS special on the US Mint and how money was printed.

"Sorry about the mess. Would you like some tea?" she asked as she quickly took a few books off the couch. She was obviously nervous from the way that she was acting, but that wasn't very surprising. The last time she had talked to these people it had not been pleasant at all.
 
The man smiled and entered, behind the dark glasses his eyes took in everything. "Thank you Cynthia. Though I won't be staying long enough for tea." he sat on the couch and leaned forwards taking off his glasses and stashing them in his breast pocket under his jacket. "You don't seem the kind we usually employ, even on a temporary basis...." he looked at the titles of the books and their subjects, the layout of the apartment, the view from the windows, the type of clothing piled in the laundry basket, the kitchen knives. Everything was taken in and a conclusion reached. "Though given your.... credentials I wouldn't be surprised if we found future work for you, would you be interested if that were the case?"
 
Something was off. Cynthia was very aware that she was no spy, and that the only reason she'd been involved in that horrible incident was because Daddy seemed to have felt she was between a rock and a hard place. In a horrible way Cynthia was even glad she had gone. Not only because it was obvious had Martini gone alone he'd be dead, and while she had no love for the man, she respected him, but she would still be under a misguided belief that Lena was still alive. Cynthia had gotten over the guilt of that, though not the memory. When she thought about Lena there were too many mysteries, and that bothered Cynthia greatly.

Now another mystery was sitting on her couch and refusing her tea.

"I think that depends on a few things," she finally said. She had been fussying with cleaning, or so it looked, but she had slipped her car keys, cell phone, and wallet into various pockets in her slacks while she'd been moving around. Cynthia needed him to keep on talking so she could figure out what his story was. She felt like she was at a disadvantage, which was not something she liked in her own home.
 
The man hid a smile "So you're not sold on your heritage, I can understand why you'd fell that way." he stood and put his hand into his pocket and brought out a golden crucifix exactly like the one he wore. "Take my calling card if you need me I'll find you." He placed it on the table and walked towards the door, and tell Martini I said hi."

He opened the door and let himself out, his footsteps receding down the corridor pulling out a phone and pressing the speed dial. "No, I didn't. She may still be of use."
 
Cynthia stared at her door, then looked down at the crucifix. "What the hell just happened here?" It was times like these that Cynthia wished she was a smoker.

Regardless, she went to open an window to hopefully, if the winds were blowing from the right direction, get some fresh air. What did the man mean by heritage. Did he know something that she didn't? Was he messing with her? No, he said that like he expected her to understand.

Something else about the whole thing wasn't right though. Granted the crucifix was tacky and she wasn't very interested in the lot of them, but should she dismiss him out of hand.

And what was that last bit.

"Martini? Oh shit!"
 
As the man's car pulled out of the apartment block's lot there was a soft sound from the living room. Then the table was obliterated by an expanding shock wave that destroyed everything it it's path. The bomb was small but it still gutted the living room and the open plan kitchen as smoke filled the room and the front door was cracked.

As the entire building shook Martini stopped in his tracks. Then broke into a flat out run. "Cynthia!" he called out, opening the door and looking at the devastation his face fell. "Cynthia!' he called out again moving though the shattered room covering his moth with his jacket to avoid the choking smoke. "Nooo."
 
There was the sound of creaking metal outside apartment. The sound was partly masked by the sound of dropping debris and the structure settling after the blast. Then there was a slightly louder thump and the crystal sound of glass being broken.

Cynthia had jumped down to the lower fire escape, with every intention of making a leap of faith from there if she had to. Instead she climbed back up to the landing of her own fire escape and crawled back in. She surveyed the damage with a blank expression. Then she saw Martini.

"He said hello," then before Martini could recover from the shock that she was not only alive, but very much whole and unharmed, she walked passed him, and out the door into the hallway.
 
Martini did a double take, it wasn't every woman who took her home being blown up in her stride "Who said hi?" he asked running after her "No, it doesn't matter who, you need to come with me right now." he caught up with her and fell into stride. "We'll talk once you're back at the kreme."

He took her arms protectively and his hand hovered near the collar of his jacket where his gun sat in a shoulder holster as he escorted her to the parking lot.
 
Cynthia didn't shrug Martini's arm off, but instead just walked a normal pace as they headed out of her building and into his car. It took up an instant for Cynthia to see which car they were going to. Not only was it a lot nicer then most the cars in the area, but it was the one that Martini had taken her out on that little mission.

"Brought Melissa with you again?" There were of course more important things to talk about, or she could have just said nothing at all until they were under the donut shop, but Cynthia had recalled how much Martini seemed to like the car and she wanted to acknowledge that spark of humanity in him that she had seen. It would have been very easy to blame everything on Martini. Since the moment he picked her up at the airport her life had been unrecognizable, even with nothing happening since that day until now. In fact there wasn't a positive emotion she felt around Martini on that faithful day.

The taste of the blast was still in her mouth, and the air felt stale. In the distance sirens could be heard, though Cynthia knew they'd be gone before they arrived.
 
He hurried her to the car without answering. He felt she was trying to comment but every fiber of his being was focused on getting her to the car quickly and safely. Once they were in he reveres out of the spot and quickly drove off taking an earpiece from the dashboard of the car and fitting it to her ear. "I'm bringing her in, they tried to kill her. Get our people there first."

His voice was not the usual monotone Cynthia had heard up until now, but was touched by what could only be called concern. As they pulled into the underground parking he noticeably relaxed, "Cynthia, I'm sorry that happened, I was on my way to check on you when it happened, we should have kept a closer watch, but you're difficult woman to find.
 
That's when it hit her. Until she heard those words Cynthia was able to not think about it. Now there it was staring at her. That blast could have killed her. Cynthia found herself shaking from the shock, but she kept from crying or blubbering by watching the city until they got to the parking garage.

Concrete was not a good distraction, so she looked over at Martini as he spoke again. Then she found herself laughing. There was a slight hysterical edge to it, her nerves being shot as they were. "I know, I don't like my information out there."

"Sorry," Cynthia took a deep breath to try to calm down, though there was still a slight chuckle coming out. "I think he was just lucky. Damn it." Once more she tried to take a deep breath and even rubbed her cheeks.
 
Martini looked at Cynthia for a second then shook his head. "I don't believe in luck." he confessed before opening the door and getting out as Daddy ran up to the car and greeted Cynthia. "Are you alright?" she asked looking from Martini to Cynthia. "We have a private room for you with a shower if you need it. She led the way out of the parking lot and into the hidden door. "Then we'll need to know everything you can tell us about whoever spoke to you." she was speaking in her usual quick and direct manner but then when she stopped and gave Cynthia a quick hug. "Its a good thing Martini was there to bring you right here. Though we never though they'd identify you."
 
"Thank you," Cynthia said, failing to know what else to say as Daddy hugged her. As she was lead to the private room, Cynthia realized the shower did sound like a very good idea. She had jumped around like a little kid and she was sure her muscles would be protesting that sort of activity before too long, never mind the fact that she was gritty and smelled like dust and explosives.

Once she was alone in the room, Cynthia quickly changed out of her clothing and was soon under the nearly too hot of water. When she started crying, Cynthia wasn't sure, but she didn't try to bottle it in. As the water was washing her body, the tears were washing her emotions until both were in better state then when she had walked in.

With damp hair, Cynthia opened the door from the private room and looked around. "I'm sure everyone's impatient. Let's see how little I can help."
 
She was met in the corridor by Doctor Winestein she hurried her to Daddy's office. When they entered Daddy was sitting behind her desk with Martini opposite, a tray of tea sat on the desk along with a plate of scones. There were a couple of empty places among the scones and they were each holding a mug, though after Cynthia entered Daddy placed hers on the tray and motioned them to the two empty seats.

Doctor Winestein lifted a clipboard and checked the hastily scribbled notes on the page and Daddy's attention was firmly fixed on Cynthia as Martini leaned forwards to pour her a mug of tea.

"First question is pretty obvious." she said "We need to know everything you can tell us about your visitor.
 
Cynthia of course was expecting this. She had been trying to keep every detail that she could remember fresh, without embellishment. Giving a quick smile to Martini once she sat down, for she was very thankful for the tea as it gave her something to look at besides the three others in the room, Cynthia began to tell her story.

For a civilian her details were very precise. She referred to the man as, that Catholic, and implied strongly that unless he had been just very lucky, and Martini at least had stated his disbelief in such a thing, that someone must have told this man something about her for him to want to pay a call.

"And then he left and I think you can piece together what happen after he left." Cynthia put down her cup and looked over at Daddy Dearest. "So you tell me, what happen."
 
Daddy leaned forwards, she wanted the full impact of what she had to say to hit Salsa who seemed to be taking this in her stride, or at least as well as it was possible to take your home being blown up in her stride.

"You are dead." she said "At least for now. You'll stay here under our protection, the man who impersonated one of our agents, judging by your description was an assassin whose been methodically killing our agents."

She pressed a button and the screen behind her lit up displaying a grainy photograph and a short paragraph of information. "He goes by the codename 'The Cardinal' and hes killed everyone we've sent to try and stop him. He seems to think you're enough of an asset to us to want you gone. That means he succeeded, its the only way he'll stop trying."
 
Cynthia frowned and shook her head. "And do what, just wait around? I understand what you're saying, but I can't do that. There has to be another way." It was a bit unnerving, knowing that the best way to stay alive was to be dead and she almost was killed tonight. At least it seemed that way.

The young woman went from fretting about her safety to looking at the photo and descriptive paragraph. That was indeed the man that came into her apartment. The man that blew it up, and tried to destroy her life and in a way it seemed he succeeded. That pissed her off. She wasn't sure how, but she wanted to bring that man down.

"History is repeating itself," Doctor Winestein started until Daddy cleared her throat stopping him from what was likely to be a long rambling musing on who's history he was talking about.
 
Martini turned his chair and placed his mug on the desk looking Cynthia in the eyes, his own without his glasses were a cool blue. "Cynthia, I got you into this. He only went after you when you proved useful to us. We will rebuild your apartment, our people are there now searching for clues and we have found the landlord and are arranging to buy it, its the least we can do. Without you I wouldn't be setting here, we believe the cardinal to be the same sniper that put a bullet though my leg."

"Good job fixing that." Daddy cut in looking at Winestein who smiled and looked at the floor, but Martini continued. "I feel personally responsible for what happened."

"We all do." Daddy agreed.
 
Cynthia found herself holding her breath as Martini talked to her. It was something to do with how close he was while looking right into his eyes. She was grateful for the spell to be broken by Daddy's next comment.

"Look," she started hesitently. "I don't want anyone to feel responsible. It's done now, and dwelling on it won't fix anything. Don't get me wrong, I do want to see my life get back to normal and not have to be looking behind my back, but until then," Cynthia took a deep breath. "I can't just be waiting around, fiddling my thumbs. Let me help lure this guy out so you can take him finally."

Her fists were white knuckled. What she just asked was dangerous, she was very aware of that. Despite that though, she didn't regret asking and only hoped they understood that she wasn't being naive or foolish.
 
"No we tried that. Twelve agents dead, our second best man one of them." Daddy responded immediately as Martini looked away for a brief moment.

"Look Cynthia, you don't have the capability or training to deal with him. I know you have a personal reason for wanting to do this but we can't let that get in the way of keeping you safe. We already made that mistake once with your fa...."

"MARTINI!" Daddy cut in just in time making everyone loo at her. The Agent's face dropped into its usual mask as he realized his near mistake. He met Daddy's eyes as she scowled. "You know you're not meant to discuss that." her face was near livid "I thought you could be trusted to keep your concerns in check....."

"Dearest..." Winestein began but stopped when he caught his share of the glare. "No one... No. One. Brings..... wait wheres Cynthia...?"
 
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